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KYBER-PUNK 22BBY Ch.20
🕑 Added 2025-02-03 18:17:12 +0000 UTC— Sasha —
Sasha felt… so, so, fucking raw… But at least she wasn’t numb anymore. When Atom challenged Smasher, it was as if her whole world was raised up onto a cliff and left to fall. Nothing she could’ve done but watch.
Of course, she never lost faith. But even faith had to contend with reality. Smasher was… Adam Fucking Smasher. There wasn’t a more dangerous man in Night City. Or Nar Shaddaa. Or even Hutt Space as a whole, if Sasha was being honest. The thought of her man, her baby, her savior and other half going up against that monster had been… frightening, Sasha would readily admit.
At the same time… Sasha knew it was inevitable. Atom was Atom and Smasher was Smasher. Night City wasn’t big enough for both of them. She wouldn’t interfere, not even when she desperately wanted to.
Now, the eerie grin she’d forced onto her face had been replaced by an honest one. Her man had won. Dismantled the Chrome Rancor. Cemented his Legendary status for all of Night City to see. Watching the fight had been horrible, but now, it was all worth it to see her man rise to the place he always should’ve been.
Sasha knew in her very bones that Atom was special. That he was Legendary. Now, righteous satisfaction filled her heart as he proved it to everyone else. To the rest of the fraggin’ galaxy. It was only right, only proper. Even at her most fearful, Sasha knew it was coming.
As raw as she was, Sasha was also… giddy. Oh so fucking giddy. Seeing her man return to her with Smasher’s head on his belt had Sasha about ready to fly. And fly, she did. Straight into Atom’s arms.
She leaped. He caught her. Her man. Her baby. Her Atom. He was everything that made her whole. He was a Legend and the galaxy deserved to know. Sasha’s arms and legs wound tightly around Atom. In the process, she unceremoniously dislodged Smasher’s head from Atom’s belt. It crashed to the ground, and Sasha didn’t pay it a moment of mind.
“You did it, you did it, you did it! Oh, baby, I was right~! Always right with you~… This is fine. It’s fine. I knew it would be fine. It’s fine. You’re fine. I’m fine. Everything’s perfect. You’re a Legend. The Legend I always knew you to be!”
Her rambles came between kisses galore. She peppered them on every inch of his face that she could reach, could touch to know it was real. She didn’t care about the blood trailing down his face. No, it only made her kisses better. Sweeter. Proof that her Atom survived and thrived and overcame everything thrown at him.
On the ground, Smasher’s head began to growl up at her, “OI-…-!”
Sasha cut him off with an utterly dead, utterly cutting tone, “Shut up.”
Instantly after, her mood swung back and she returned to kissing and kissing and kissing her Atom, “You did it, you did it, you did it! I love you, Atom, my Legend!”
Atom chuckled — honestly chuckled. And though Sasha could hear the strain in his voice from the intense fight, it still sent her heart fluttering, “Good to see you’re back with us. You were gettin’ creepy, Sash’. Good creepy, but still creepy with that grin of yours.”
Between more kisses — slower, sweeter kisses — Sasha’s rambles transitioned to pouts, “It’s your fault, Atom-baby. You glorious, glorious gonk. I already KNEW you’d come out on top, but I was still scared for you!”
Atom gave her a smile, shockingly soft compared to his usual expressions, and Sasha fell in love all over again, “I’m sorry for making you worry, love.”
That soft smile made Sasha pull back and look him over from skin to core, “… This was good for you. You’re… already more solid. Something inside isn’t as loose anymore.”
Atom blinked, “Huh… Yeah, I guess you’re right. That fight… It did more than just forge my Legend.”
Sasha grinned and when she did, it was wide as fuck~! “Count on me to notice before you did. Do I know you better than you know yourself, baby~?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Atom rolled his eyes so fondly that Sasha’s heart leaped in her chest. “I suppose you do in some ways. Don’t let it go to your head.”
“I will. I absolutely will let it go to my head.”
“You’re terrible.”
“You love me.”
“I know.”
From Atom, that might as well have been the most romantic confession in the galaxy. She was practically vibrating in his arms. Her smile would never fully leave her lips again. She bowed her head, clutching Atom’s face as she pressed her forehead to his.
“I love you,” She repeated. “And you love me.”
“I know,” Atom repeated as well, saying nothing more. He didn’t have to. Not for Sasha.
“FRAGGIN’ LOVEBIRDS… SOMEONE PICK ME THE FUCK UP!”
Without moving from her position, Sasha drew her pistol and let off a single shot into the interrupting head. It didn’t do anything, of course. Even beheaded, Smasher was Smasher. But it shut him up for another moment.
“You know~…” She purred to Atom. “With everything you put me through these past two days… I demand comfort.”
“Comfort?” Atom asked, audibly amused.
“Comfort,” Sasha confirmed, nodding against his forehead. “A bit of this, a bit of that, and a whole lot of you in my life-…”
She was interrupted. Again. This time, the interruption came from the rest of the crew joining them. And V, that stupid, sexy skank… She crouched down over Smasher’s head but noticeably didn’t touch what Atom had claimed.
“Hanging tight, big guy?”
“V-BRAT… PICK ME UP.”
“No way!” V laughed. “I’m not pissing off the new Legend who tore you apart. These are the consequences of losing, and you’ve gotta deal with ‘em.”
Shaitan’s head in V’s arms spoke up, “Vengeance is sweet… If only I was not now matching Smasher.”
“We’ll get you a new frame, old friend,” Maine said. “Might take a while, but we’ll get you up and killing again. Can’t say the same for Smasher, in all likelihood.”
Atom sported a vicious grin as he addressed Smasher’s future, “Nah, he’s going to be riding shotgun on my belt from now on. A violence belt buddy. And a herald. If anyone asks why I’m a Legend, he’ll tell them himself.”
“Hard-fragging-core,” V whistled. “He’ll love the violence but hate that he can’t do it himself.”
“… I’M LIVING VICARIOUSLY NOW. COULD BE WORSE,” Smasher grunted.
“You’re not angry about your charge being reduced to a head and some bits?” Aayla curiously asked V.
Smasher’s (former) handler just shrugged, “Not particularly. The execs won’t be happy one bit, but it was a fair fight. Smasher accepted the challenge himself. He’s big enough to handle the consequences on his own. Reaping what you sow, and all.”
“I’VE GOT ENOUGH BALLS TO ADMIT I BROUGHT THIS ON MYSELF,” Smasher agreed. “SO I’LL GET OUT OF IT BY MYSELF, TOO.”
Aayla visibly paused and digested that information in her pretty blue mind, “… Night City really is something else.”
Atom snorted in good humor, “That much has always been true.”
He moved to set Sasha down, but she wouldn’t let him, clinging tight. Then, Becca — bouncing around without pause — began climbing him like a tree. With a sigh, Atom resigned himself to his fate, standing straight as Becca clambered up his back and plopped herself on his shoulders. Sasha giggled and helped balance her there.
A manic grin took over Becca’s face as she leaned even further into Atom and Sasha’s space, “Check out the stream’s live chat, choom~! It’s going wild! ‘New Legend’! ‘Atom Smasher’! ‘Ripped his fraggin’ head off’! ‘The galaxy really has gone kriffing bonkers’! They’re still going! And I’m already bringing in the scratch with all of the bets! Best! Fragging! Day! Ever!”
David all but appeared at Atom’s side, clapping their hands together in a firm, brotherly handshake, “You’re a proper Legend now, bro.”
“Give it a few months and I’m sure you’ll join me,” Atom asserted.
“Good lookin’ out there, Atom,” Lucy praised. “You had us worried for a bit, but you came through. Stars-damn, you came through.”
“You came back to us, mijo,” Gloria seemed to finally breathe the sigh of relief she’d been holding for the entire fight. “You came back better than ever. But now, I really, truly hope we can have a little break from… everything. Force knows I need one…”
Unfortunately, Atom shook his head, “We can’t afford a break, any breaks. I’m sorry, Gloria, but I’ll be relying on you. All of you. There’s still too much shit to be done to rest now.”
“LEGENDS DON’T GET PUSSY-ASS BREAKS.”
“Atom could take a break if he wanted to! He can do anything!” Sasha snapped back, defending her man.
Atom shook his head again, “If only it was that easy, Sash’. I’m still needed. Hell, we’re all still needed. There’s a cartel to run and a war to win. Becoming a proper Legend is just a small part of… well, everything.”
“No, I have to disagree,” Thankfully, Gloria put her foot down. “I recognize that there will always be more work to be done. But you have to recognize that you’ve earned a break. That no matter how big you get, you’ll still need breaks. Atom… you’re still bleeding.”
Joining forces for Atom’s sake, Sasha wiped blood from his chin to show him, “You are, baby.”
“WEAK. REAL CHROME DOESN’T BLEED. THAT’S A POINT OFF YOUR WEIRD NOT-MEAT,” Smasher rumbled.
Atom glanced away and grunted, “… Just a flesh wound. I’m still just as much ‘Living’ as I am ‘Beskar’. But I’ll heal quickly.”
Sasha felt herself scoff even as she worried, “Stubborn-ass lover… Just let yourself sit still with us for a few hours, Atom. We all need this.”
Atom grumbled wordlessly for a few moments. Sasha could see him about to give, though. It set her heart at ease. Until…
A whole fleet of transport speeders swooped in overhead. Each one proudly bore Arasaka’s corpo logo. Immediately, Sasha saw all the work she’d put in reverse. Tension returned to all of them, and for a moment, Sasha HATED Arasaka…
“CAVALRY’S HERE, NOT-MEAT,” Smasher laughed from the ground.
“Ah, kriff!” Lucy swore suddenly. “I’ve had nightmares about this exact scenario…”
Sasha glared at V, but the corpo handler just raised placating open palms, “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t call them. Fair fight, deserved consequences, all of that, remember? This has the higher-ups written all over it.”
Arasaka samurai began to dismount from the transports in force. Easily a few dozen of the top-tier corpo soldiers. Immediately, they were moving to surround the group, blasters drawn but not pointed. The crew, Jedi Knights, and even V began reaching for weapons of their own. Quickly, the tension in the air became thick enough for Sasha to cut with her cyberclaws.
But before the situation could break down dramatically, Fay stepped forward. The gorgeous gothic goddess zeroed in on the leader of the samurai and stepped between them and Atom. Every eye there focused on her in turn. Fay held out a ‘stopping’ hand to either side and made one hell of a statement.
“No. I would have peace here. PEACE!”
Her voice rolled over the whole arena, and her will rolled with it. It was a thing of imparted empathy and harmony. Somehow more than simple words, Fay’s declaration shook the world. Arasaka and Gonk alike stopped in their tracks. Her desire for peace was palpable. No one could resist. Sasha found she didn’t even want to when Fay was the one to speak.
Seeing everyone pause, Fay nodded with satisfaction, “Good. Very good. Now, children, let us use our words.”
Even Smasher’s head seemed to flinch when Fay called them ‘children’. She didn’t act with anger, didn’t speak with sharpness. Just… disapproval and disappointment that enforced stability and civility. No one sought to disobey the suddenly descended Goddess of Peace. Instinctively, they all knew that Fay’s displeasure would cut deeper than any wound.
Both sides — Arasaka and Gonk — exchanged glances and found themselves on the same page there. Still, they all hesitated. V was the first one to step forward, caught between loyalties as she was.
“Isla, babes, what’s up? We good?” V asked.
The samurais’ leader stepped forward at the question, taking off her helmet to reveal an attractive, feminine face with hair in a swept bob and duty set in her dark eyes. And though they were ‘concealed’ there were still plenty of curves under that Arasaka uniform. ’Not bad,’ Sasha thought. ‘Not bad at all~…’
“Commander V,” Isla greeted. “It pains me that we find ourselves on opposite sides after we worked so well together only a few days ago.”
V rolled her eyes, “We’re not on opposite sides. I just happen to be standing over here.”
That seemed to relax some of the tension out of Isla, “That… is good to hear, Commander. Regardless, I have my mission. Please, step aside. I don’t wish to fight you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” V agreed. “Especially since I was planning to ask for you to be my second in command from now on. Let’s not let this little misunderstanding ruin that, neh?”
Isla nodded curtly, “Of course, Commander. But I’ve still been tasked with taking you in. All of you.”
“WHOSE ORDERS?” Smasher demanded.
Isla’s answer chilled Sasha to the bone, “The Emperor himself, sir. He wishes to see you, Commander V, and… the new Atom Smasher. The rest are… invited. If they know how to hold their tongues, that is.”
“Shit…” Atom muttered to himself. “There goes any chance for a break.”
Sasha’s heart rose in fury at that. And her course of action was set in her mind. Arasaka’s Emperor was the exact opposite of a small fry. At the same time, Atom was the one going into their meeting with the real power. Sasha was suddenly determined to exploit that power for every concession it was worth and then some. The Emperor wanted to politick now? Sasha would rise to match the old dragon.
“Let me handle this, Atom-baby,” She whispered to him. “When we get there, just sit tight and look pretty as you always do. I’ll be your voice.”
Atom seemed amused by her enthusiasm and willing to indulge her as he whispered his reply, “Go for it. Aim for an alliance with Arasaka in the end, but I don’t mind if you take ‘em by the balls to get there.”
His faith in her was encouraging. Sasha wouldn’t let him down. It’d be her first dip into the pool of politics (and into the deep end, at that…) but she’d been learning under Suunri and Gloria. It was meant to be a surprise. A way for Sasha to be useful to Atom in more than just netrunning, as significant a field as that was.
She’d always planned to be Atom’s voice. But the initial reveal was supposed to come with a project that was still in the works. It seemed she’d be getting a headstart, though. The planned reveal — an all-out propaganda campaign for Atom and the Gonk Cartel… — would have to come later.
To Sasha’s disappointment, Atom finally set her down and stepped onto the initial negotiating table. Becca tried to stay on his shoulders, keeping quiet and utterly still so she’d be ‘invisible’. Sasha rolled her eyes and pulled the rimbo down as well. Becca pouted for just a moment before the expression changed into a goading grin.
“Sooo~… ready to talk your shit to the Emperor~?”
“For Atom?” Sasha set her shoulders. “I was born ready.”
IIIII
They went peacefully with the Arasaka samurai. Fay kept that peace alive and well the entire way, even when the Gonks refused to relinquish their weapons. When an eternal Jedi Master promised to ensure talks remained just talks, it meant something. Both sides listened. No one wanted to be the first to earn her ire and disappointment.
The whole crew ended up coming along. But that wasn’t much of a surprise to Sasha. The last thing they were going to do was leave their new Legend out to dry. Even Kiwi — easily the most unattached member of the crew — was loyal to everything Atom had brought them. The money, the power, the prestige, the opportunities — none of them were willing to turn their back on all of that or Atom himself just because Arasaka’s Emperor had come calling.
To the crew, Atom was many things. A choom. A protege. A brother and son. A boss. A lover. And now more than ever, a Legend. They would ride and fucking die for him, just like he would do for any of them.
So when the transport speeders landed just below the peak of Arasaka Tower, the crew stepped out as one with Atom. The Jedi were behind them, but not by much. Supportive, but not ‘ride or die’. Except for maybe Fay. Sasha couldn’t help but completely trust the thousand-year-old Master’s ‘calling’ to aid Atom. It was a level of unconditional devotion that she could very much empathize with.
The Arasaka samurai followed them as they took the short elevator ride to the Tower’s peak. A kingly greeting was already waiting for them. Saburo Arasaka didn’t seem the least bit phased by the crew coming in full, coming in force.
On the surface, without any additional context, he looked like a small, weathered, but dignified old man. With context, he became something truly frightening. A man who held the Arasaka Megacorporation in his iron grip for more than a hundred years. A man who had monsters like Adam Fucking Smasher at his beck and call. But not anymore…
When he spoke — there at the top of the moon, at the peak of his power — everyone listened, “Atom. Greetings. You and yours are welcome here. V, do not worry. You haven’t disappointed me. But Smasher… you’ve put me in a difficult position.”
“GET OVER IT AND WORK AROUND IT, OLD MAN,” Smasher scoffed. “I WAS WELL WITHIN MY RIGHTS TO DUEL THE NOT-MEAT.”
“Perhaps,” Saburo allowed. “Losing, however, is another story.”
“… I’M STILL KICKING,” Smasher grumbled.
“You’re a head and nothing more,” Saburo shot back. “I’ll be taking the cost of your frame out of your stipend. And that is only the beginning of your woes. Perhaps mine as well…”
The samurai lined the edges of the room. They were led to sit around the table that Saburo sat at the head of by V. She seemed… respectful, more so than Sasha had seen from her so far. V left them after that, joining Saburo’s side of the table. Atom sat directly across from the Emperor. Sasha and Gloria sat to his right. Fay sat to his left. Everyone else was left standing, trying to give Atom the same visible backing that Saburo enjoyed here in his place of power.
“For real, Emperor? I’m in the clear?” V asked softly.
“You are. I can recognize something Smasher had brought upon himself after all these years of him in my service,” Saburo deadpanned. “So, sit straight, child. You will be taking his place for this meeting.”
“Yes, Emperor,” V bowed her head slightly. “Of course, Emperor.”
“Now,” Saburo turned his attention back onto Atom and the Gonks. “What will convince you to return my Smasher to me?”
Atom didn’t reply, allowing Sasha to speak for him like he’d promised, “Nothing. Atom’s keeping him. For the foreseeable future, at least. Payment for defeat. The conditions of victory.”
Saburo raised a single, imperious eyebrow but accepted her taking the forefront role, “I see. And will I receive compensation for this appropriation, Miss Sasha Yakovleva?”
A part of her stiffened at the Emperor knowing her name, but Sasha didn’t let it show, “In a way. It’s plain to see that we have the leverage here. We’re not going to just give that up at the first request.”
“If you won’t, how do you plan to use that leverage you claim to have?” Saburo asked.
“The Gonk Cartel has needs that Arasaka can fulfill for us,” Sasha answered. “But I’m not going to pretend to be skilled enough to beat around the bush with you, Emperor. First and foremost, the Gonk Cartel will be getting Arasaka onside.”
Saburo sat back slightly and really looked at her, “… I’ll admit, I did not expect this from you, Miss Sasha. I know all of your crew by name and deed. But seeing you take this role is… pleasantly surprising.”
“She’s been learning from the best,” Gloria put in, smiling fondly Sasha’s way.
“And yet, there is a long way for her to grow.”
“Isn’t there always? I’m lucky enough that she can see that fact for herself.”
“Indeed. Overly ambitious students never truly prosper.”
Something unspoken seemed to pass between the two of them — Saburo and Gloria. An understanding and the ghosts of smiles. A mother. A grandfather. Two political Legends, one of the streets and one of the boardrooms.
“It’s never the ones we think will continue our legacy, is it?” Saburo asked conversationally.
“No,” Gloria agreed. “It’ll always be something they have to choose for themselves.”
“Oh my,” Fay tittered to herself. “I can certainly empathize with that. I’ve found few others willing to walk my path.”
Sharing a small smile with Gloria and the Master Jedi, Saburo shook his head, “We are straying off the topic at hand. You imagine an alliance of equals between the Gonk Cartel and Arasaka, Miss Sasha?”
Sasha could admit to smirking slightly, “Maybe slightly less than equal. Our Atom almost flatlined your Adam, after all. That’s gotta count for something or we might be seen as pushovers.”
“It brought me to the negotiating table. Is that not enough?”
“Not quite. Let’s talk concessions, Emperor.”
“Concessions…” Saburo seemed to turn the word over on his tongue. “How novel. I’m rarely put in this position these days. However, Arasaka cannot be seen as weak, either. You gained a Legend. I lost a Legend. That is enough to put us on equal footing, no? In any alliance going forward, we will be seen as equal partners or I will cut my losses here and now.”
Immediately, Sasha knew he was serious, and she knew he wouldn’t let her press too hard here, “… Equals, then. That’s still in our favor. A partnership between the old corpo giant and the rising cartel.”
Saburo nodded, “I find this agreeable. Of course, Miss Sasha, your true test shall come… in the details.”
“Oh,” Sasha winced, knowing she was in for it now. “Oh, joy…”
“You do realize we’re going to call you into our war, right?” Atom asked, speaking up for the first time in the meeting.
“I was counting on it,” The Emperor smirking was a… worrying sight.
Atom raised an eyebrow, “Fuck a Hutt?”
“I wouldn’t put it so crudely,” Saburo demurred. “But essentially, yes.”
“I WILL,” Smasher interjected. “FUCK A HUTT.”
“It’s amazing how I will both miss you dearly and not miss you at all, Smasher,” Saburo sighed and shook his head. “Still, I believe this calls for a toast. A beginning. To… war and profit.”
“And new Legends,” Sasha shot back.
“To war, profit, and new Legends,” Saburo agreed. “Smasher, coach V through brewing the tea. Once we’ve all partaken in that ceremony, the real work can begin.”
“We’re… going to be here a while, aren’t we?” Becca asked Lucy and David in the background.
“Oooooh, yeah…” Lucy sighed.
“Maybe we should’ve chosen to sit instead of stand,” David muttered.
“Too late now, chooms,” Maine chuckled. “We’re committed.”
Sasha resolved herself to the negotiations to come. They would, in fact, be there for a while. But just like Maine said, she was committed as well. She’d work her way through all of the nitty gritty and earn her role as Atom’s voice. At the very least, it’d help give Atom the break he needed but would never admit to needing…
As the Gonks settled in for the long fight, they were treated to… a strange sight, “DAMMIT, V-BRAT, NOT THAT KETTLE! AND WHY’S YOUR WATER FRAGGIN’ BOILING?! YOU’LL SCALD ALL THE FRAGGIN’ LEAVES!”
“Then, you do it!” V snapped back at Smasher’s head. “Oh, wait! You got your fucking ass beat and now you can’t!”
“Smasher. V,” Saburo said, utterly calm and composed. “Watch your language in my presence. Please.”
“Yes, Emperor. Apologies, Emperor.”
“… MY FUCKING BAD, OLD MAN.”
Saburo didn’t even sigh, just locked eyes with Atom and said firmly, “I’ve changed my mind. You couldn’t pay me to take him back.”
“Honestly?” Atom chuckled. “I don’t mind him all that much. He’s the most appropriate herald I could ask for, for me and my Legend. I think we’ll do good work together.”
“Then, I wish you the best of luck retaining that optimistic opinion. With Smasher, you shall need it,” Saburo deadpanned.
But if Sasha listened closely, she could hear fondness in the Emperor’s voice and a sort of regret to be parting with Smasher despite his words. In his own way, Smasher was loved. But the Emperor didn’t let that love stop him from passing the torch onto Atom. A new Legend, incorporating an old. Only the future knew where they’d go from here. But… if this meeting was anything to go off, the Emperor wouldn’t let Arasaka be left behind.
IIIII
— Aurra Sing —
Violence — real karkin’ violence — and plenty of profit to be had. Truly, what more could a girl ask for?
War had come to Nar Shaddaa. With it, opportunities came as well. Aurra Sing couldn’t let herself be too far behind. While all-out war was somewhat foreign to her, she was well used to fighting for her livelihood. These days, freelance fighters could make some pretty profit on the Smuggler’s Moon. And Aurra’s loyalty could always be bought for the right price.
How much longer this gig would last, Aurra didn’t know. Word of… something concerning… had been spreading through the usual bounty hunter channels. It was being said that the Clans weren’t nearly as stable and ‘winning’ as they made themselves seem. And that even the masses were steadily turning against them, gaining the courage to fight back and break chains.
Among bounty hunters, Embo started the first rumor, claiming that the pay could dry up at any time. That silently dangerous motherkriffer was usually worth listening to, and Aurra certainly took his word to mind. And she’d seen the second bit with her own eyes. The Hutts were looking less and less invincible by the day.
The writing was on the proverbial wall. But until the full sentence showed, Aurra had decided to maintain her course. She enjoyed getting her hands dirty, and the war between the Clans and the ‘Gonk Cartel’ was a good experience to have under her belt. Of course, that only mattered as long as the credits kept flowing. Once it truly dried up, not even the love of the game could keep Aurra on board a void-breached ship.
Until that happened, though, her services were in high demand. The Clans had grunts aplenty. Droids, slaves, and mercenaries that couldn’t call themselves bounty hunters. What they needed most was competent, experienced, and sharp lieutenants to lead their forces. By fulfilling that role, Aurra had been able to secure herself a very nice payday. Already, her bank account was 30k credits larger and all she’d had to do was kill a few mutts.
Well… kill a few mutts and put up with the slugs. Even if she was used to dealing with them, working directly under the Hutts always ruined her mood. She much preferred them to be seen, not heard — to leave the actual jobs to her and just pay up when they were complete. Taking orders from them for an extended period of time was… straining, even for a professional like her.
Other than the profit and opportunities, Aurra found she couldn’t care less about the war she fought. It seemed to center more and more around Night City, and if anything, she actually liked that slice of Nar Shaddaa. Good culture, interesting people, and they respected bounty hunters just as much as their edgerunners. She’d even visited the Afterlife once or twice, though not nearly as often as Bane did.
But practicality would always come before sentimentality for her. Night City and their Gonks weren’t paying her. The Clans were. It was as simple as that.
The Hutts were certainly trying their damnedest to make the situation less simple for Aurra, though…
One — Dakka — chattered, cackled, and chortled in that disgusting way only a Hutt could, “Hahahehehehurghurghurgh~! It is BRILLIANT! Good old brute force! Nothing beats brute force!”
Another Hutt — Kakka — joined, “Of course, brother! Finally, the usurper will crumble! Our mission is righteous to the core! We have the numbers, the firepower, and the Will of the Slime on our side! They are stuck in place! All we have to do is crack them like a Shell Hutt!”
Aurra struggled to school her expression. This… This was easily the worst part of her current gig. Hutts — twin Hutts at that — who felt the need to insert themselves into the action. Their arrogance and inexperience were offensive. Their enthusiasm would’ve been somewhat admirable… if Aurra wasn’t in the line of fire by association. Yet she was stuck with them for this mission. They wouldn’t hear a single word of advice or criticism, determined to go ahead with their plan, their way.
“Mr. Kutz! Your aid has been invaluable. Are your forces ready?” Dakka asked.
Frank Kutz — Militech man through and through — presented a blank, soldier’s face as he answered, “The Militech samurai merely await my command, sir.”
“Good, good,” Kakka smiled an ugly, Huttish smile. “Your corporation’s loyalty to Nar Shaddaa’s true masters shall not be forgotten. Once this is finally over, we shall personally hand Night City and so much more to Militech.”
Kutz gave a salute that only Aurra saw the truth of. It was a half-assed gesture. She could tell he hated taking orders from the Hutts just as much as she did. But his corporate masters must have bid him to listen, and he did. Aurra took solace in the fact her fellow lieutenant seemed to be as professional as they came.
“And what of that ‘Legend’ you boasted of?” Kakka continued, and the utter dismissal in his voice was clear. “What did you call him? Blackfist?”
Aurra saw Kutz flinch in offense but he maintained his composure to the Hutts, “Blackhand… sir. He has… continued to refuse Militech’s call to arms.”
“Ah, no matter,” Dakka waved. “Like all pathetic pinkskins, he’ll be forgotten in history. We don’t need him.”
“Against Arasaka, we abso-fucking-lutely do…” Kutz’s cutting comment was barely a whisper. Again, only Aurra caught it.
“Indeed, brother!” Kakka continued with his twin without a care. “Our true invasion into Night City will come hard, fast, and they won’t stand a chance! We shall flood the streets and this ‘Corpo Plaza’, overwhelm their ‘Limits’, and seize the orbit above so we may rain down fire and fury!”
“Yes, they have no fleet to contest our dominance! Dakka and Kakka shall win the day!”
“Wrong…” Kutz muttered under his breath. The twin Hutts, of course, continued without hearing the word.
“Arasaka and their Emperor shall fall with the usurper and his dogs. We cannot have megacorporations thinking of allying with them. An example must be made.”
“Arrogant,” Aurra joined Kutz in sniping at their shared bosses where they couldn’t care to hear. He shot her a glance, and she returned a smirk. The twin Hutts, of course, simply continued.
“Gah, a mere Human calling himself Emperor on Nar Shaddaa?! He is almost worse than the usurper! The berserkers our Lord lent us shall make quick and messy work of them both.”
“Worrying…” Aurra and Kutz muttered in perfect, subvocal synch.
Mirroring them, Dakka and Kakka both exclaimed, “We cannot lose!”
Without even acknowledging them, Dakka and Kakka slithered off to do… whatever twin Hutts did. Aurra very much didn’t want to think about it. Their high spirits and utter overconfidence didn’t say good things for the coming mission, but at least she could find companionship in the Militech leader.
Once the bosses were gone, Kutz sighed and seemed to deflate on the spot, “… No Blackhand, taking orders from Hutts… I hate that this is where we ended up.”
Aurra shrugged, “So long as you have an escape strategy in mind, you’ll live to see it get better.”
“After allying with the Clans, Militech might not, though,” Kutz grumbled.
“… For someone so similar to me, you have strange priorities.”
“I work as part of a better whole. You work for yourself and only yourself. We couldn’t be more different.”
“Keep telling yourself that, handsome.”
“… It’s going to be completely up to us to make sure this whole thing doesn’t go to shit, isn’t it?”
“Was that not obvious from the start?”
“True enough,” Kutz grunted before hesitating. “But… berserkers…? Those berserkers…?”
“Exactly the ones you’re thinking of, I suspect,” Aurra confirmed with a nod. “And they likely freak me out even more than you. If they’re the way this war is going, I’ll be making this my last gig for the Hutts. Maybe forever.”
“Frag…” Kutz swore softly. “All we can do is look out for us and ours. Let the slugs dig their graves. It might just be time I joined Blackhand in retirement. I’m getting too old for this…”
“The feelings mutual,” Aurra agreed. “I think I’ve milked this bantha for all its worth. Best get out and onto simpler jobs, before the creds dry up and the going gets real tough.”
Kutz eyed her, and said more than asked, “You already have a plan.”
“I always have a plan to make myself scarce,” Aurra chuckled.
“Does that plan involve throwing me and mine under the speeder?” Kutz asked.
Aurra shrugged, “Not particularly. But it’s flexible.”
“… Flexible enough to include me?”
Aurra looked him up and down, her gaze languid and greedy. He wasn’t terrible on the eyes. Big, burly, and bluntly appealing in that way soldiers tended to be. She’d certainly had worse. And it was pleasing to see that he wasn’t so stupidly devoted to his megacorp to ignore himself.
She hummed, “Impress me, and we’ll see. I might just be the one to deliver you to your retirement, veteran.”
IIIII
— Morgan Blackhand —
His comm rang. Militech again, Blackhand already knew. He ignored it like the last dozen calls. His old corp was never the kind to take refusal easily.
But… Blackhand was reTired with a capital ’T’. He was old and comfortable and absolutely not going to let himself be pulled back into solo bullshit. If he did, it’d never let him go again.
The Solo’s Solo was no more. Now, he was just an old man with a pleasure yacht and all the vacation time he could ask for. And he liked it that way.
Fuck the action, fuck the chrome, fuck the pay, and fuck the glory. He’d had enough of those things for half a dozen lifetimes. All of it was a young man’s game, and Blackhand was old. Old in a profession where men die young. Like so many old men before him, it was his time to do abso-fucking-lutely nothing.
He spent his days in utter peace and relaxation. A drink in hand, girls on each arm, and recently, the happenings of his old stomping grounds to keep him entertained. Blackhand kept himself up to date with the entire galaxy. But as it tended to do, Night City had grabbed his attention again.
History was being made. Blackhand was merely along for the ride as a witness. With his reTirement, he liked it that way. Let the youth turn Nar Shaddaa on its head with freedom and righteous crusades. He’d be watching from afar, cheering the kid on. Never let it be said that the Blackhand was a friend of the Hutts. But his time had come and gone. And that was okay.
Even just watching was certainly entertaining. Enough so that Blackhand had parked his yacht in orbit around the Smuggler’s Moon so he could get updates as they happened. A view of the stars and the lit-up moon. Stocks to keep him fed and tipsy until the end of days. And now, primetime seats to watch the galaxy go even more mad from.
“A massage, Morgan?” Rozy asked.
Lirya was already moving into a position to follow through on the offer. The two of them were good women, good companions for an old man like him. Both Zeltrons with their pleasantly pink skin and curves and natural empathy. They addressed him by his name, not by his title. Something almost unthinkable when he was still the Solo’s Solo.
They didn’t need to stay with him. But after he’d freed them from an unfortunate case of chains and bondage, they’d all but sworn themselves to him. Blackhand still insisted on paying them for their time. It wasn’t as if he’d ever lack funds to do so. But even without the pay, they were loyal and comforting. He was the first thing on their mind, and their company was certainly appreciated by an old, reTired solo.
“No need, girls,” Blackhand said. “Just having you two at my side is enough for my old bones.”
“Not enough for us, Morgan,” Lirya insisted.
“A drink refill, then?” Rozy pivoted.
Blackhand hummed, “So long as you get yourself one while you’re at it.”
Rozy giggled, “I think I can bear that indignity.”
“Join me, girls,” Blackhand suggested, not ordered. “I already feel like watching Smasher get himself torn apart again. It was a long time coming, and I can’t see myself growing tired of the show anytime soon.”
Even with the suggestion, his voice was gentle. Pheromones, trauma, and all, they were his girls. Not claimed through slavery or anything so vile. It was a bond formed in companionship and something akin to fatherhood. If they merely asked, Blackhand would adopt the girls in a heartbeat, just as quickly as he would set them on their way and ensure they thrived.
Simply put, he was painfully fond of them. So young, so much potential, and they’d offered themselves into his service freely. Blackhand would’ve ensured they could do anything they wished. But all they wished was to keep an old man company in his twilight. Of course, their relationship wasn’t quite that simple…
“If not a massage, perhaps I can comfort you… another way~…” Lirya purred, plying him with pleasant pheromone scents.
Blackhand saw himself as a father figure to the girls. He was certain they saw him the same way. But that didn’t stop them from doing… more. Zeltros was a bit, ahem, ‘special’ like that. Zeltrons would do as Zeltrons did. Who was Blackhand to refuse their freeing culture?
After all, they weren’t actually father and daughters… The girls would never let him see them that way, not completely. He was more of a… what had Rozy called it? Sugar Daddy? Taboo. Kinky, even. But if the glove fit…
Zeltrons were sexual creatures at their core, and the girls never forgot that aspect of themselves. They’d been forced to serve sexually once. Now, they did so of their own free will and no one else’s. It was an odd situation old Blackhand found himself reTired to… but he liked to think he could adapt to anything.
Rozy swayed off to fetch them all more drinks, Lirya sank to her knees between his, and Blackhand’s comm rang once more. He almost ignored it again. But there was something about that ring that tweaked a sixth sense he’d learned to trust over his long solo career. Lirya pulled him out and into her lovely mouth, and Blackhand answered his comm.
He recognized the voice on the other side in an instant. ReTired he might’ve been, Blackhand was never without connections. A long, long life had taken him all over the galaxy. He knew spacers and street gangs, pirates and politicians, and many, many more. It was well-known that the Blackhand never forgot a friend.
As recognition hit, Blackhand flicked the comm to projection mode. His side transmitted his grinning face and his bare upper torso beneath an open floral shirt. Lirya and the magic she was working was left off the holo-projection, and the other end of the call was none the wiser.
The dignified visage of an older man — not quite into his twilight yet — appeared before Blackhand. He was long-faced and stern. In his reTirement, Blackhand rarely saw a sight so sweet and nostalgic.
“Dooku! As I live and breathe! How’s Seranno treating you, whippersnapper?”
“Well,” Dooku gave a curt nod. “As always, there is much to do. In the near future, however, certain… business… will take me away from my domain and into your sea of stars. Considering that, I thought it a good idea to check back in on my best source in Hutt Space before he finally croaked.”
Dooku’s amusement was barely more than a twitch of his lips, but Blackhand grinned enough for both of them, “Don’t give me that! I’m gonna outlive you, youngin.”
“Hmm, I doubt that. You were old and decrepit when I was still a young Knight.”
“And I’ll be old and decrepit when when you’re laid to rest. But still kicking. Always kicking.”
“We shall see.”
“I suppose we will. Now, what’s this about you coming around my way?”
“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how interesting things have gotten there,” Dooku deadpanned.
“No,” Blackhand chuckled. “I’m watching them for myself in real-time, after all.”
“Then, you know what has called for my attention,” Dooku nodded.
“Interesting, interesting times we live in.”
“Indeed. Your tip-off about the ‘kyber-spice’ was invaluable. I feel that it and the man resisting it require a more personal touch from me.”
“That junk? It waned but it’s coming back strong. Word around all of that isn’t looking good, Junior. But the Atom kid hasn’t stopped fighting for a moment.”
“The former… is troubling. But the latter is exactly what I wished to hear. I am willing to listen to your thoughts on the situation if you are willing to give them.”
Blackhand clicked his tongue, “Tsk, where to even start…? The war on the Clans? The uniting of Night City? The kid’s new Legend? The worrying things one of the leading Hutts is up to in the shadows? The turning public sentiment and the revolts from the masses the Clans are starting to face? Or maybe even the Jedi showing their faces, including a woman you’d consider a Living Legend? Pick your poison, my young friend.”
Dooku stared, and Blackhand could practically feel his deadpan as it came over the commlink, “Yes, quite… Begin where you wish. Just… give me a moment to sit down. I have a feeling I’ll need to before this call is done.”
Rozy returned with drinks and laid a kiss on his cheek before joining her sister below. Blackhand chuckled and raised a teasing toast, “You just might. But since you’ve given me the choice… I think I’ll start with the orbital strike that rocked the moon a few weeks ago. It only gets better from there-…”
IIIII
Isla bonus pics
Bonus Pics (sauce below)
Comments
Ryan Helmbold
Gotta say this fic is great, and far far better than that disgusting slaver/rapist fetisg waifu catalog trash. This fic I can actually get behind
MercerV12
With pictures like that I am damn hopeful we’ll have an Atom x Isla scene later on, cause gawd damn! At least as Thiccccc as Master Faye if not more so, and that deserves some thigh clapping attention!
jp9901
This is the truest headcanon of them all!
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter
Sebastian
Will the count turn 🤔 😏 on the sith with atom ⚛️ 🤔
Dragon of Kyushu
Very nice, we gonna get a PHO interlude? Also I like to pretend this is one of the early lives of your Deaths Consort story
dryskies_btb
Sauce Isla: Hel by ickpot (I wasn’t planning on using so many images but I found the sauce and DAMN!) Bonus 1: kuuroishi 2: Leticia Shirayuki 3: _aozora_x 4: vladochka 5: cosplaybabeshae 6: Louisa Khovanski 7: bishoujomom + fayedawnx 8: leighbunbun
