Chummer, not Choom 5 (Shadowrun/Cyberpunk Multicross, OC-SI, Chaos Gacha) (Patreon)

It wasn’t the last time they’d managed to go on runs with Panam, though not all of them were all that exciting. Sometimes a Shadowrunner’s job was far more boring than the Trid or Matrix would have you believe. In fact, much of it was groundwork, or sitting around waiting for something to happen. When they needed to do their part as hired guns, it wasn’t as if Becca and Jack didn’t get off their asses to move…

… But it wasn’t that uncommon for their Hooder jobs to be relatively easy. However, while they did pay on the lower side of things, they were a bit common. So that did help offset the time it took to make a few hundred nuyen here and there. More importantly, though, they had more opportunities to learn a bit about Panam.

Distantly, the man understood that she was a character he’d once glimpsed in a video game. Yet that was an artificial reality, and one that didn’t have the weight of the Sixth World on top of it, making the waters more muddled. Some things did become clearer about her actual personality, though, the longer he got to observe the dusky-skinned roadster.

She was a woman who, in a world where the options for the common man grew ever slimmer with each passing year, wanted to carve her own path through it. That much, Jack could respect. It wasn't as if he was exactly a fan of megacorps himself, and there was no small amount of other conspiracies that he was quietly paranoid about. Any number of them could have been the one that'd thrown him into a situation like this.

Ancient Elves, Elder Dragons, Atlantis Cults, Insect Spirit Cultists, the Black Lodge… The list really did go on.

Maybe that personal drive was why she got on so well with him and Rebecca. Then again, Rebecca was just a hard person not to like. She was friendly and vivacious, and wherever she went, the pint-sized runner couldn't help but make friends.

"So what's it like bein' a Nomad?"

"What's it like bein' from the city?"

"Rough," Becca stated, shrugging softly. "But that's life everywhere, ain't it?"

In the back, head against the headrest, Jack kept his eyes closed and his ears perked for danger. “I’m guessing you were always a nomad."

“You guess right,” Panam stated, smiling wistfully. “I was born into the life. My clan’s ridden across most of the NaN’s, the UCAS, and CAS. Mostly below the snow line, and far away from the truly wild areas, though.”

“Too many paracritters?”

“Don’t let national geographic fool you,” she grumbled, eyes steely on the road ahead. “Out there, away from civilization, it’s beautiful. Nature’s bounced back in a lot of places, especially in NaN territory, where there are rules about exploiting the land. And a lot of animals, especially the Awakened ones, never really had a fear of people to begin with.”

There was no small amount of actual danger in the countryside of Shadowrun. As much as people liked to clown on sprawls for being unnatural, they did exist for a reason. A good reason, when paranatural fauna and mutants roamed the wild stretches of the world that used to be more widely inhabited.

“I’ve never been out of the city,” Becca admitted. “I’ve always wanted to see a real, big forest, up close and personal.”

“When the cloud cover’s gone and you’re far enough from the city, looking up at the stars at night is an experience I can’t describe,” Panam described, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I remember being a kid and lying on the hood of my parent’s car as we stared up at the sky. Might be the closest thing to a spiritual experience I’ve ever had.”

“...Aren’t you Native American?”

“So? I’m supposed to what, dance under the moonlight to drum beats or something?” She asked, looking back at Jack with a gimlet eye.

“No, it’s just… Well, I thought most of them joined the the NaN’s after the Great Ghost Dance.”

“If you listen to them, that’s what they’d like you to believe,” she drawled, voice thick with exactly what kind of derision she had for that idea. “That it was one big happy family. Far as I know it, my grandparents and parents didn’t quite think of themselves as natives anymore, even if they could pass a blood quantum. But being in the UCAS after the Treaty of Denver was…”

“Complicated,” he finished for her.

“That’s an understatement. So many people lost a loved one during the Awakening, and then the Great Ghost Dance and war after. Not a whole lot of love for anyone that had native blood, so they hit the road with other people that felt the same way.”

“Which is how the Nomad clans got started, right?” Becca asked.

“Some of them. Some of them, like Raffen, are just assholes who didn’t fit in anywhere else and bound themselves together to continue to be assholes to everyone else.”

A lot of the conversations are like that. Points where the world begins to feel open and wide. Jack didn’t know how to feel about that. So much of what he recalled about this world was at a remove, or at least parts of it, the fusion with other stuff notwithstanding. In the end, he relied on the things he knew were real.

From there…

Well, how you describe a friendship growing? Bit by bit, day by day, shooting the shit over text and hanging out when you don’t actually need to. It was nice. It helped Jack feel like he was getting settled in a different way, having the voice of someone who wasn’t an insane, pint-sized gun-bunny in his life.

Mostly because while Panam did share a lot of similarities with Becca, she didn't exactly find herself at odds with Jack, either. Most of their discussions mostly revolved around him asking questions about her own experiences, and the world, while also trying to keep his specific circumstances to himself.

Rebecca barely chose to believe his story, because they were friends. He didn't feel like his tale that sounded like it came straight out of a bad Hollywood trid' should get spread around too far. Especially when he knew so little about his situation.

All things considered, Panam was refreshingly simple to deal with in a lot of ways. You were either in with her, or you were out. That sort of awkward, in-between point with the girl didn't really exist, at least not for long, when it came to how she felt about people.

The moment Jack knew he was in was when he showed up to a run, and she was standing next to an unfamiliar car.

As he approached, she threw him the keys. It was a small miracle that he managed to make his fumbling look intentional, as he arched a brow her way. "What, am I driving this clunker for the job?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "It's also yours."

Jack blinked. "What?"

"It's not much, a pretty beat to shit Ford Americar, and frankly I'd say it's seen better days, but I set up the Grid Guide override and a morphing license plate, just as a matter of principle," the woman continued, moving past his confusion with ease.

"Wait, wait, wait, stop," he emphasized, trying to cut her off. "I…I can't pay for this, Panam, I'm broke as hell."

She looked at him in confusion, as if something wasn't clicking, before realization dawned across her features. "Oh, no, this isn't something you have to pay for. It's a gift."

"… Wait, really?"

"Really," she nodded. "It was something that's basically a shitbox, but what kind of man doesn't have his own car?"

"Not much of one," Rebecca commented.

"You don't have a car either, you little brat!"

"We weren't talking about me, though, were we?"

Holding his instinct to violently and aggressively correct her, he instead turned to face Panam with a smile that was entirely genuine. "Thank you. I appreciate it, really. I'm… not really sure how I'll manage to repay you, but I will."

If there was nothing else, he wasn't the type of guy who forgot his friends. Not when they helped him like this.

"It was nothing," Panam spoke, glancing away briefly, just the faintest hint of something red against her dusky skin tone. "Just make sure you won't wreck it or something immediately. I'm not puttin' in the work again."

"I won't," he promised her. "So let's get this run going, eh?"

It wasn't the most complicated effort, just helping to shepherd some donated organs to a clinic. While he didn't quite think it was difficult, the token effort required to fend off gangoons made it so it was still worth the effort involved. As well as the rewards, as the work came to a close, that was when he took the time to look at some of the things that he'd earned.

-PERFORM TEN SHADOWRUNS-

You're becoming a known name. Try not to choke on your success.

Rolling 1x Silver Trait Gacha Ticket…

[Iron Fist]

|Uncommon Trait|

Your fists are like iron, enhancing the power behind your unarmed strikes and fist-type abilities.

-GET SOME WHEELS-

Pity has been taken on you by a woman who feels sorry for a man with no wheels. Try not to cry. At least you know you're friends with her.

Rolling 1x Bronze Item Gacha Ticket…

[XI - Justice]

|Rare Item|

Tarot Card - Clears all abnormal status effects such as disease, poison, curses and charms Epic rank and below in a 10-meter radius. Cooldown: 120 hours.

-EARN 10k NUYEN-

Money makes the world go round, baby.

Rolling 1x Silver Item Gacha Ticket…

[Guardian Shield]

|Uncommon Item|

God of War - An extremely durable bracelet that can unfold into a supernaturally durable shield faster than the blink of an eye. It can also serve the duty of a bludgeon if need be.

The first was a trait that took effect almost immediately, as he felt his body shift. Not a transformation, mind you, but the quiet hardening of his fists. He knew now that his punches would just flat out hit harder. Unfortunately, it was also a quiet reminder that he'd actually have to keep training with them.

"Goddamnit…" Jack grunted, as he sat behind the wheel of his car. At least he'd have a ride to and fro to getting the stuffing beaten out of him by Dorio and Maine.

As for the second result, it was a bit of a curveball for him. Because, theoretically, Jack suspected that he might have a cure for HMVV sitting in his inventory space. That…

That was a problem for another day, he decided, as he headed out onto the road. Instead, Jack chose to focus on how nice it'd be to have something that would allow them to not worry about infections, poison, curses, or being mind whammied by basically anything in the Sixth World now, short of a Great Dragon or Immortal Elf bringing all of their force to bare.

He'd take it for the win that it is.

The last result from his weeks of effort was a welcome one, even if it wasn't tremendously complex or fancy. A nice, straightforward shield that could unveil itself in the blink of an eye. Probably bulletproof, too, seeing as it could take literally divine blows in the God of War video games. Not a bad result at all.

“Master! You’re home!”

It was always a little jarring to be greeted like that, especially since Jack had always assumed it’d be a cute girl in a maid outfit doing the greeting. However, reality was very underwhelming at times, and he had to make do with what he had. No matter how much he was personally disappointed by the matter.

His B-1 Battle Droid, with the amusing designation of R3N-F131D, stood in a stooped posture that he had almost certainly never told it to assume. Wearing Jack’s cloak, it approached with the stooping position of someone almost like an Igor coming to their master.

“...This is still your fault, Rebecca.”

She scoffed, giving him a side-eye. “How was I supposed to know he’d take that well to watching Dracula?”

“It’s a bucket of bolts, you bimbo! Very, very dumb persona software on this brand of anthrodrone.”

“You’re complaining a lot for a man that got a free robot off the street,” she grumbled, crossing her arms as the droid in question dropped into an even further grovel.

With clasped fingers, it dropped to a knee. “A thousand apologies, master! This humble servant knows not what they did to gain the ire of their dark lord, but it was not on purpose. Flagellate me if you must!”

A low, long-suffering groan rolled out of Jack at this point. It was something that the droid had gotten into its head the moment it found out that Jack’s fake SIN had the last name as Tepes. Considering he didn’t possess any other hints as to the last name of his current body, it’d been as good of a choice as anything else. Except it had led to this…this whole mess of mistaken identity.

He wasn’t a vampire and honestly might never be. HMVV wasn’t exactly rare, but it was uncommon, and frankly, most strains sucked balls. If he had to be unfortunate enough to catch the Awakened virus, he’d probably want to catch a strain that’d at least let him keep all his hair. And not become an obligate cannibal.

That last one felt like a really important detail not to neglect.

“You’re forgiven,” Jack stated, with the kind of weariness that came from having to deal with this on a regular basis. “Just get us a couple of beers, will ya’?”

“Of course, milord,” R3N-F131D nodded eagerly, slinking away with the whirring of servos. “Right away, thy dread majesty!”

A long, exasperated sigh drifted out of the tall man as he watched the droid amble off to go fulfill the order. Glancing over, Rebecca was obviously trying and failing to stifle her chortles as he scowled at her. “...This isn’t funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.”

“Bitch.”

“Whiner.”

Clicking his tongue, Jack rolled his eyes at her smirk and moved deeper into his apartment. It was altogether a pretty meager affair. A living room, bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, which…probably was about as much as he could afford at the moment. Until something changed, though, he’d have to be satisfied with what he had.

Slumping on the couch, it was at least his couch. It might have been pilfered off of the street and had a few questionable stains on it when he’d gotten it, but flip around the cushions, and nobody could even tell. The rest of it, though, was relatively barren.

Rebecca flopped down on the couch next to him, kicking up her shoes on the coffee table. “So what’s next?”

“Why are you asking me?” He frowned. “You’re the more experienced runner between us.”

“From the perspective of my brother’s crew, we’re both just as green,” the girl pointed out, eyebrows twitching at the reminder. “And you’ve got, like, a head for this sort of thing.”

“Common sense, you mean.”

“Yeah, being a gonk-ass loser who actually cares about consequences and stuff,” she nodded in agreement, despite phrasing it in her own special way.

Jack smiled in smug satisfaction. “I am, indeed, not a living caricature of the feisty Latina, so that does help.”

“Screw off!” She shot back, but not with any real heat. “I’m serious, though. You’ve got a head for like, making plans and stuff that actually work out. As opposed to me, my favorite act is…”

“Guns blazing.”

“Damn right!” She shot up, grinning broadly, even as it dimmed. “I know it’s not the right move for everything, though.”

Before he could respond, though, his problem child of a robot came back with a beer in each hand. “I have returned with the refreshments after using my top-of-the-line sensors to find the chilliest brew for you, sir!”

Taking it in hand, it was still a little warm, but that was chalked up to his shitty fridge not cooling things all of the way. Saying as much or complaining about it to R3N-F131D was just a recipe for more admonishment, though. “Thank you, bud.”

“It was my pleasure. I live to serve. Please do as you like; I’m going to be available if you need me.” Moving over to the nearby wall, it just stood there, stock-still. Staring at them in bated breath. Static. Whatever it was, when a robot was staring at you, twitching, waiting to follow your next command.

Rebecca glanced over at it and then at the beer in her hands, cracking open the can absentmindedly. “I mean…it was free, wasn’t it?”

“More than you could know,” Jack grumbled, as he moved to take a swig of his drink.

Frankly, the droid itself wasn’t the most useful by itself, but it did have some benefits. For one thing, it was capable of housework once properly shown how to do so. And it even made for decent home security, given the fact that it still had its blaster. No one seriously trying to breach his apartment would actually be stopped by it, but it was enough to deter most people.

It basically didn’t even tax his energy reserves, either. As far as Familiars went, in Jack’s incredibly limited experience, it could be kept up indefinitely and without much care on Jack’s end.

“If I’m taking the lead, then as my first real move as leader, I’m asking what you think we should be doing now.”

Rebecca frowned, having the ball thrown in her court and obviously giving it some honest thought. “Well…probably expanding, sort of?”

Jack’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Elaborate.”

“Nice vocab word, nerd,” she started, before pivoting back to the topic at hand. “So, like, we’re pretty good as just the two of us, and some runners can operate as solo or duo acts, yeah?”

“I’m following,” he nodded along.

Gesturing between the two of them, the girl frowned. “Thing is, we’re kind of specialized in terms of, uh, our schtick. Me, with my shooting everything that moves and being my normal, persuasive self.”

Jack snorted, and Rebecca continued, as if she hadn’t heard him do so. “You with your magic, kill everything that looks at us funny schtick.”

“It’s worked so far.”

“And I’m not disputing that,” she confirmed. “The problem is that we need a little more than that to hit the big leagues of jobs, or we’re gonna pigeonhole ourselves. Like, we need a Decker, or a Shaman, or a Rigger, maybe a Face—just kind of roles we’re not really equipped to handle.”

Thinking over her words, he didn’t believe that she was wrong. The two of them were capable to an extent, but the best Shadowrunning operations could turn into surprisingly large enterprises. It was like in a heist movie where you needed to gather a group of people with incredibly eclectic archetypal positions. In theory, he might get a set of skills or an ability that’d make one of them superfluous.

More realistically…there was no way to count on that good fortune. And his Abilities were limited as they were.

If he wanted to make more money, make better connections, and just get more resources for his investigation into who and what he was, the fact of the matter was that they needed to take bigger jobs. And for that, their little motley crew would need to expand.

“Alright,” he agreed, focusing on Rebecca a little more keenly. “Let’s say that we go bigger. We’ve got Panam for a Rigger, don’t we? She’ll probably have some connections of her own, if we ask, though we’ll need more than just her and the basic bitch fixers we know.”

“Fixers, Shadowsea, word of mouth—the sky’s the limit. I’ve got some plugs.”

Jack squinted at her. “...How the fuck do you have Shadowsea access?” It was a Matrix board for the Seattle Shadows, which wasn’t impossible to get access to. But he’d never been given a key to the node after ripping and running right there alongside her for weeks now.

To which she could only give him a shit-eating grin. “My brother let me in and vouched for me.”

“Ugh,” he retched, recoiling away from the short woman. “Nepo-baby.”

“In this instance, I’m damn proud of it too!”

"I'd say we need a decker, though," he pointed out. "Since I don't think either of us are any good at hacking."

She paused, glancing away. "… I do know one person who could fit. But only if you're normal about it!"

Jack looked at her askance. "I'm the most normal guy in the world!" He lied, like a liar.

The dubious expression on her face was all he needed to see, as she quirked an eyebrow his way. "Yeah, right. Anyway, she's also in Maine's crew, but does jobs on the side. If we don't get in the way of their schedule, it should be fine."

"What's her name?"

"Lucy."

Hmm. If that was who he thought it was, and the odds were pretty good that it was, she would be a good addition to their team. He was trying very hard not to think about her classic design, the leotard with exposed hips, or anything else that would constitute him being weird.

Jack failed.

"Well, let's contact her after we get something going. No point in getting on rung up until we actually have some work going."

"Fair," Becca conceded. "… Wanna finish that movie marathon first?"

"… I mean. I'm sure business can wait a little bit longer."

He could hit the big leagues and turn into a huge Shadowrunner later. For now, they had some movies to watch.

Author's Notes

This isn't Comeback Kid, but that's mostly because the last update in my eyes really wasn't large enough for it's own chapter of one of my most popular stories. Provided when I get my teeth fillings I'm not entirely wiped out, I'd like to try and run next Saturday to finish out the arc and properly bring the Land of Snow storyline to a close.

Regardless, this was content you guys were owed, and it's something to keep this story trucking along. It was finished awhile ago, I was just looking for a comfortable spot to put it in.