Alexander Shepard Interlude -
Alexander stood under the light of two slowly shifting moons. They appeared close together, one colored a light reddish brown, while the other was predominantly white, similar to the moon on Earth. Unlike good old Luna, however, the pale white moon was colored, with a large portion of its surface reflecting light from its smaller sibling, casting a pinkish glow across a wide swath of one side.
With the stars behind them, it was a captivating image, well worth the cold, crisp air surrounding him. It may make his nose smart with every breath, but the millions of stars and the brilliant moons were breathtaking. In fact, overall, he hardly even saw the cold air as a negative. It was honestly amazing just how much of a difference breathing fresh air could make in someone's quality of life.
Before he had moved into the Campground, before he had been promoted from the second in command of one of the largest Aldecaldos groups to the leader of a much smaller, but no less important group, breathing was never something positively locked into his mind. Air quality was always bad, it was always a danger. Dust storms, acid mists from rain, surprise pockets of radiation or contamination, all things that could restrict a group to using rebreathers, or sealing themselves into their cars for long stretches of time. He had driven through all of them, both as a driver and a passenger, and it was always nerve-racking.
Would the seals hold? Would the filters they bought do their job? Would a gust of wind carry just the wrong bits of sand into their intake and clog them? Would this breath be his last?
If all went well, they would survive, but people were hacking and coughing for days afterward, recovering from breathing in whatever horrible crap that was choking the air. It wasn't uncommon to lose a few people if the conditions snuck up on them.
Then he had moved to the Campground and experienced truly clean air for the first time in his entire life. It wasn't stale or processed, and it wasn't tainted by unpleasant smells or chemical cleaners. Taking a deep breath didn't make you cough, nor did you go to bed with a sore throat and sinuses from working around dust. You breathed, and it was clean. He had thought that was the pinnacle of healthy breathing.
Stepping into the world of Avalon had shattered that thought.
On Avalon, the air was alive. He could smell the trees, the pollen, the rotting leaves on the ground, and everything in between. It was the scent of a living world, and it healed his heart in a way he didn't know it was damaged. It was enough to mesmerize him sometimes, pausing for a moment just to breathe, just to experience natural air. Not just clean, but alive.
It made everything better, even the not-so-fun parts of repairing to explore a new, alien world.
Of course, this was after Jackson gave his people booster shots for their immune system, jump-starting them and cranking them up to eleven. They would need them every six months if they wanted to live in the living world, or accept a small but permanent piece of bioware.
A small price to pay for the opportunity to explore a whole new world.
Before they could start their exploration and finally leave what they had come to call the Hub, they needed to learn every inch of their new equipment. A good chunk of their new kit were simply more advanced versions of what they had before. Water purifiers, portable equipment, tools, and transportable infrastructure. Unfortunately, despite their familiarity, the whole group still needed to learn how to use them.
There were also several large changes they needed to adjust to, the largest of which was the shift from ground vehicles to flying ones. Sure, they would leave with half a dozen ATVs and a few larger vehicles so they could explore on the ground, but primarily they would now be traveling by large flying transports. Some of them hauled cargo, some had people, and some were a mix of both, but every single one of them could carry a ridiculous amount of all of it.
Flying them was actually pretty easy, despite their size and cargo capabilities. According to Jackson, the controls were simplified on purpose, with a good chunk of their internal systems run by complicated programs. Considering they each had a fully functioning autopilot, one that flew considerably well, even compared to some of those in the group who were taking to the lessons particularly competently, Alexander had to agree.
Panam, one of their best fliers, was already chomping at the bit to start their journey. She knew they had to wait until everyone was competent and ready, but that didn't mean she wasn't excited to explore.
In fact, almost everyone was looking forward to it, with the group's first destination already selected. Just under a hundred miles away from their current location, there was a large river that cut across almost the entire continent. From the images Jackson had given them, taken from space, the river looked incredibly wide. They were going to fly to it, scanning as they went, before landing beside it and investigating the area. They even had drones to scan the river and see what sort of wildlife lived in it, if there was any, which there likely was. When they finished at their first landing spot, they planned to go upstream or downstream, whichever seemed more interesting when they arrived.
Of course, some had been interested in staying and exploring the area around the Hub. There were already reports of animals in the area of the Hub, which made some curious about what lived in the trees. Still, the river had called to quite a few members, so they would be heading there first.
Alexander was already curious about whether they could do some fishing and whether anything in the water was edible or worth catching for food. They already had equipment to determine whether something was safe to eat, but they would still have to taste it the old-fashioned way.
A good-sized chunk of his family was not nearly as eager to try the local food as others, especially after Jackson had overheard a discussion about it. He explained that the fruit and vegetables would likely not be very good, since most human food had been the result of hundreds of years of domestication and breeding. Even discounting the fact that what they had been eating recently, the indescribable food Jackie had provided, was actually artificially created, even the flavors they were familiar with now were very different from their natural sources.
Apparently, these ancient vegetables wouldn't have even been considered edible by most people's standards. The untouched state of this world meant the plant-based food would be in a similar state, technically edible but lacking the thousands of years of slow domestication and guidance.
Even some meat felt the effects, with wild animals being too gamey for most people to enjoy.
Alexander himself was still interested, despite the warning. While they were still being spoiled by the incredible food made by Jackson and Jackie's hard work, the idea of eating real food, which they hunted for and gathered themselves…
He couldn't help but look forward to it.
Thankfully, he wouldn't have to wait all that long, as the time to leave was quickly approaching. The next group of nomads were ready to take their place, and they were quickly becoming proficient in Jackson's tech. By his estimation, it would only be a few more days before they could finally leave and begin exploring the planet.
A whole new planet to explore, and his people were the first to step into it.
Alexander took a deep breath, letting the cold crisp air fill his lungs, a smile on his face. After a while longer of watching the moons, he headed back into his cabin. It was late, and he needed all the rest he could get if he wanted to keep up with Panam's flying.
Wakako Okada Interlude -
Despite the suddenness of the attack, Wakako Okada had known it was coming. The entirety of the Tyger Claws knew it was coming.
What most of them didn't know, or didn't understand, or maybe even pretended not to know, was how utterly outmatched they were. Even those who did know, those who did realize their demise was imminent, did nothing but prepare beyond arming their underlings and digging in. Some even poked at the resting dragon, despite knowing that it would eventually wake and clear the vermin around it from its new den.
They had too much pride, too much honor. They could not abandon the stations they had built, no more than Wakako could leave her pachinko parlor.
She considered running, considered grabbing all of her saved money, cashing in all her favors, and burning her life in Night City. She could be anywhere she wanted, and she had just enough influence to start off in relative comfort, foot already in the door for whatever she wanted to do next.
But she was old, stubborn, and could not bring herself to leave her empire behind. She would not leave her throne.
Because make no mistake, that's what it was. It might not have been defined by grand walls, nor was it as shiny and prosperous as the golden empires of old. But Wakako was the Empress of her territory all the same, from the shadows, from behind closed doors. The men upstairs, playing at being samurai, all while being peddlers of drugs, women, and suffering. They pretended to be noble, pretended to have the power.
That's really what had always set her apart. That's why she had always been in control. Because while they liked to pretend they were honorable, noble, she knew she wasn't
She knew her rule was one splattered in blood. She knew she handed out death, sitting in her throne and sending out dangerous people to hurt the innocent. Fixer neutrality was a lie, because while they may work with anyone, everything they did involved death. Maybe not directly, but it all boiled down to the same blood.
And she had refused to flinch from that.
Even now, as her bodyguards shouted at the approaching threat, firing their useless guns, convinced they could stop the inevitable onslaught, she sat there, behind her desk, her pistol sitting within reach, loaded and ready.
Idly, the thought of taking her own life first, dying by her own hand, crossed her mind, but she immediately stomped it down. The make-believe samurai might believe that mutilation and taking the easy way out was noble or honorable, but she refused to die by he own hand.
She was under no illusion that her stand would mean anything. She had seen the footage, seen that the soldiers, these so-called Spartans. They could walk through a hail of bullets from anything short of a full-sized rifle, and even then, it often didn't make it through their armor. She knew her pistol would do nothing.
But she would do it anyway.
The idea of running or, even worse, surrendering, was unconscionable. Bowing down to Jackson and his army would tarnish the empire she built, and while it was already splattered in blood and corroded by immorality, it was still hers. She would not give up her life's work just to survive. She would not sacrifice everything just to spend what little time she had left in this life submitting to the whims of that bastard.
The sounds of approaching violence got closer, her guards going silent one by one. Some of those boys had worked for her for years. She had raised them from simple gang members to her personal guard, and she spent those lives easily, without a flicker of care. She watched the door, hearing the whipping thumps of the smart guns that the soldiers of Tinkertech used. She counted the seconds, knowing it was only a matter of time.
She had spent her whole life building her blood-stained empire, forging a foundation from the bones of her enemies, of the innocent, and the guilty.
And she would be damned if she outlived her empire.
The door to her office was kicked open in one solid blow, the door bent around the impact as it slammed against the wall, broken and half torn free. Two of the armored soldiers burst in, immediately shouting for her to put her hands up, to surrender immediately, to step away from the desk and the weapon. But Wakako ignored them, the sound muted in her ears.
With speed that was surprising for her age, she reached out and grabbed her pistol, raising it up and aiming at the closest soldier.
Even as she pulled the trigger, the soldiers did as well.
A dozen solid rounds hit her center of mass, tearing through her kimono, spattering the wall behind her with blood, as her thin, aging body did very little to slow them down. Meanwhile, she kept firing, managing seven shots in total, all of them hitting her target.
None of them did a damned thing.
She tried to fire again, but as her blood poured from her body, so did her strength. With a thump, the pistol hit the desk, and her arms sagged by her side. She did not slide out of her chair. Even as the light slowly faded, as the darkness began to close in around her, she sat there, staring at the soldier she had shot at, as if she could kill them with her mind, or lay a curse on them with her death.
Instead, all she did was slowly die, finally slumping forward slightly, still sitting in her chair. The Empress's throne, once again splattered with blood.
But now it was her own.
Judy Alavarez Interlude -
It had been a long while since Lizzie's had felt this empty. This cold.
The Moxes, most of them at least, had always prided themselves on supporting each other, something Judy greatly appreciated. Sure, she had joined because she needed work, but she could have just stayed on the outskirts, not gotten involved, not made friends with everyone. Instead, she found herself feeling more at home here than she did in her apartment.
It was certainly a toss-up as to where she spent most of her time.
Now, everything had turned on its head, and it left everyone, including herself, reeling.
Susie leaving them for a briefcase of eddies had been… bad, but almost understandable in a twisted, broken way. It was a lot of money, and Judy could admit, she wasn't sure if she would turn it down either. She would almost certainly regret taking it pretty quickly, but she couldn't say she wouldn't take it at all.
What really hurt was how quickly it was revealed how bad things had been behind the scenes.
Within a few days of the Moxxes agreeing to work with Jackson, things had been looking up. That was when Rita, who had really stepped up to fill Susie's shoes, started finding issues. Quite a few people, almost a dozen, had disappeared not long after Susie had. All of them had been working closely with her, spread across all their operations. After realizing that, Rita had poked into their roles, quickly finding the truth.
Susie had been stealing from them for a long time.
She and her cronies had been misreporting numbers, helping things disappear, and using Mox resources, as little as they had, to make their own money. It wasn't millions, but it was certainly enough to explain why they had been struggling so much.
All by people who were supposed to support each other, who had called each other family.
It was enough to make her sick. In fact, it had made her sick.
If Rita hadn't stepped up and wrangled everyone together, as horrible as it sounded, Judy wasn't sure if the group would have survived. Worse things have broken up groups like theirs, and while the Mox would have probably continued to exist, it would have likely been in name only. Thankfully, Rita had managed to get everyone together, and with a few pointed words, steeled everyone to focus on the next step. Yes, they had been betrayed, but that didn't mean it was all for nothing.
She had likely saved the group… But Judy was having a much harder time moving past it. It reminded her, at least in spirit, of her last relationship, cutting her deeper than the other. Maiko changed once she started climbing the ladder, her priorities shifting. Work became about money and power, the reason, not a means. In the end, Judy had become a secondary thing, something she juggled with her work, not something she prioritized or even focused on.
Susie had done something similar, coming into their family and turning it into a power game. A way to make money. She had smiled at their faces and used them to pad her accounts.
Judy let out a sigh, turning to look out the door of her space. She supposed that the club's silence didn't help make it feel any less empty. Rita had taken the money Jackson had given them and immediately spent almost every ennie on fixing everything that Susie had let fall apart. The club was shut down for a few days while the builders worked, cleaning and refurbishing the whole place. Every once in a while, she would see someone walk by carrying tools, materials, or even a clipboard as they worked.
After a few moments of looking out the door, Judy stood and left her room, making her way up the stairs. She skirted past a few workers, waved to Mateo as he cleaned out his workstation behind the bar, before finally stepping into the office. Susie used to have the room locked, but now the door was gone completely, removed and thrown in the dumpster by Rita.
A promise of openness and transparency that had settled some of the still-burning nerves of the others.
As she turned into the doorway, she stopped, surprised to find that Rita was not alone. Becca, or Rebecca now, was sitting in one of the chairs by the desk.
"Oh, sorry," Judy said, not sure how to react. "I'll… I'll come back later."
"Nah, it's fine, choom," Rebecca said, waving her in. "I'm just checking in. Saw how screwed up this place had gotten, wanted to make sure it was all getting done right now. Shouldn't a worried about it, honestly, not with Rita stepping up."
"Right… Actually, could I ask you a question?" Judy said, sitting across from Rebecca, Rita rolling her eyes and leaning back in her chair. "How exactly did you get involved with Jackson. Is he… Do you really think he is trying to help?'
"Judy…" Rita said with a warning tone, not one of anger but of sympathy.
"No, it's alright, Rita," Rebecca responded, shaking her head before looking back at Judy. "You remember my last crew? Well, Maine, he chromed too deep and snapped, ended up getting Doria killed, which only broke him into going full psycho. We were on a job, so… it didn't go well. Jackson just happened to spot me after Militech dumped us, recognized me as a potential hire, and fixed me up."
"So he just wanted you to work for him?" Judy asked with a frown, only for Rebecca to wave her off.
"Nah, honestly, I don't work with him that much. He's got a ripper friend, Vik," She explained. "I'm Vik's guard most of the time. Vik… Vik is good people. He helped me a lot when I was still putting myself back together afterward."
“So… he fixed you… just so you could protect a friend?"
"Kinda, yeah. He didn't trust me at first, not that I could blame him," she admitted with a frown. "I had a reputation, not a good one either. Vik volunteered to vet me."
"And you… Like working with them?"
"It took some getting used to, but yeah. Like I said, Vik is good people, and not the usual 'good for someone in Night City,' either. Jackson… He has a vision, and honestly… I believe in him. He hates what Night City is... I mean fuck, he hates what the whole world has become. Wants to fix it all."
"From the goodness of his heart?" Rita asked, having been listening to the conversation the whole time.
"Kinda? He isn't a bleeding heart, killed too many gangers to be called that," she pointed out. "It's more like… disappointment. He knows we can do better, somehow, and he wants to give us the chance to do it."
Judy leaned back in her chair, digesting what the one-time member of the Mox said. Her heart still ached from Susie's betrayal, and she still felt stupid for not having seen it coming. But it was impossible to deny that Jackson felt different in some way.
She didn't trust him, not while the memory of Susie walking out the door with a briefcase in hand still flashed in her... in all of their memories. But she was willing to give him a shot, because while he heralded a dark moment, he also offered more than anyone else ever had.
Judy sat there for a while longer, talking with Rita and Rebecca. It was clear there was a lot she was keeping to herself, but the shorter woman happily shared some of her experiences with Jackson and his group. The more she talked, the better Judy felt about working with the man.
Isabelle Torres Interlude -
Isabelle woke up in her new bed and couldn't help but smile when she didn't immediately jump out and start rushing around. It was a strange sensation to have a few slow mornings a week, but she had come to love them immediately. Being able to get up slowly, to actually taste her breakfast, to shower after the water turned warm, rather than before. She could even afford to make breakfast for her two children.
It wasn't every day, she still had morning shifts after all, but it was frequent enough.
In all of her dreams from the last few years, she had never considered the concept that she would be able to drop her third job, never mind half the hours of her second as well. And yet that was exactly what she had done, something only possible because the rent for her new apartment was so low.
She had been apprehensive at first, tense as she walked her kids through the halls, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And yet, every day, it seemed less and less likely to come. Something about the entire building seemed… calming, like a home, not a death trap waiting to suck the last of her money away and dump it into some corpo account.
Isabelle slowly slid to the edge of her bed, her own actual bed, one she didn't have to share with her sons like she did before. Her sons shared a room, but it was large enough for two beds and more, so they would be fine.
It was five days into her living in Artemis Towers, the silver-themed building named after some ancient old-news goddess, and she was already hopelessly in love with their apartment. Closets, extra space, a living room, its own kitchen, even a built-in washer and dryer.
Every time she pulled her laundry from the dryer, she swore she could feel the warmth of her clothes in her heart.
All for less than she had been paying for her old crappy, run-down apartment, which didn't even have enough room for multiple beds.
Once she had put on some simple clothes, she headed out to the main living area, pausing by the door to the boys' room. Quietly, she peeked inside, watching her two sons as they slept. The two had fallen in love with their new apartment even faster than she had, spending each night looking out their window at the Night City skyline, as if their new home made the whole city look different.
She couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of their happiness, letting them stay up a little bit later so they could enjoy the view. They would have had to use up energy to sleep, and they could afford to sleep a bit later now anyway.
After closing their door softly, Isabelle made her way to the kitchen, taking a moment to look over the space, a luxury she didn't think she would ever get to enjoy. It had a cooktop, a built-in microwave, a small oven, and even a large refrigerator and freezer, all covered under the apartment's insurance, so if they broke, she wouldn't have to pay to get them fixed.
Granted, she was still working out the whole cooking thing. She had never had the means, the time, or the energy to learn, but that was a problem she was happy to have. She opened the fridge and poked around at the food inside. All of it was bought from one of the tower's shops, which was in the mall two floors above them. Isabelle hadn't bought much, waiting to get a feel for it before she filled their cabinets, but it had been so cheap that dropping just thirty eddies had gotten her so much more than she expected.
Just seeing the Welles Family Meals logo on most of it had gotten her excited, as everyone in Night City had heard of the food company and had done their best to get ahold of its food. Apparently, the grocery store, which was supplied with artificial but delicious and cheap food alternatives, was exclusive to people living in Artemis Tower, at least for now.
Most of the residents didn't seem to bother, since there were so many cheap food options that served already finished meals, but Isabelle couldn't resist the idea of feeding her boys food she had made herself.
After pulling a few items out of the fridge and the cabinet, the single mother of two began preparing a batch of pancakes according to the recipe on the flour bag. When she was done, she had made a dozen pancakes as big as her hand, with her fingers all spread out, as well as a pile of bacon.
It was far from perfect. The batter had been a bit thin, and several of the finished pancakes were a bit dark around the center, but Isabelle was still proud of what she made, which was a new, warm feeling that settled in her chest. Usually, she was too busy and tired to feel proud, her mind lost in a spiral of drowning in debt.
She looked over her shoulder to check the time on the stove, smiling when she saw she still had around an hour before she would finally have to start getting ready for work. After pulling out a few other things from the fridge, she headed back to the second bedroom to wake up her kids, a smile on her face.
It was hard not to get excited about everything. The food was amazing, the room was more than she ever thought she would be able to afford, and being able to get up at her own pace, at least a few times a week…
The feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop had quickly faded from her mind. Now, it was replaced by a growing warmth, one she felt every time she saw her kids playing in their room, every time they visited the tower gardens or explored the large mall two floors above them.
Before, she could scarcely put a label on the feeling, even though she had started to enjoy it even more than their new and amazing access to food.
Now, though, after having settled in, having felt it as she met her neighbors, realizing that there were no nearby gangs or drug dealers, that Jackson had vetted every single person in the tower, the friendly armored security people were walking every floor, she realized what the growing warmth in her chest was.
It was hope. For tomorrow, for her children, and even for herself.