KYBER-PUNK 22BBY [Inspired Inventor+]

— Atom —

After being brought so low, we had no time to waste. We'd survived, we'd escaped, and still, there was so much to be done. Rebuilding was the Gonk Cartel's top priority. Everything done since returning to Night City went toward that goal. The moment we crossed into the Limits, efforts began in earnest.

It was the only option, the only way forward. We worked tirelessly 'cause if we didn't, we'd all die pathetic, overwhelmed, inglorious deaths. The Hutts had very clearly demonstrated that they didn't care about circumstance or collateral. Just being near the Gonk Cartel was enough to sign a death warrant. There were a hundred thousand dead souls — not even bodies were left… — and a glassed neighborhood as evidence for that claim.

So, it was in everyone's interest for the survivors to stick together. Especially for the 'nameless' vassals who were lucky enough to be shielded in the throne room with the cartel's main leadership core. They wouldn't last a day on their own. Not even turning their coats would help. Well… maybe for a moment. But the Hutts were being openly and mercilessly thorough in erasing their 'little troubles' (read: me and anyone associated) from existence.

When our core group, the Gank Packs, and Linth's fleet were removed from the total, only about 50 Gonk Cartel members survived the orbital strike. More than half of that number were the throne room's staff and De'vi's girls. That left maybe a dozen and a half pre-existing vassals.

But at least, they were the ones who'd chosen to return before the strike or ones who Coyate, Sstala, and Suunri had elevated to their positions after the coup. The rest of Zorba's old vassals were either killed in the lower levels of the tower or had to be so scattered to the wind at this point that they might as well not exist. That meant that the vassals we now had were the ones who'd decided to bet on me and mine beforehand. True believers. Or close enough to be relatively trustworthy, especially after the Jedi and I had saved their asses from utter annihilation.

Of course, I wasn't taking any chances. Not after… Ave and Pilar… I enlisted the Jedi to go over everyone with the Force and assess intentions and morale. But, surprisingly, they didn't detect a shred of betrayal in the works. Just fury, a whole lot of gratitude, and a shared thirst for vengeance. The Hutts had brought the remnants of the Gonk Cartel together so well that I couldn't have asked for a more loyal core to start rebuilding from.

That loyalty was doubly true for the slaves we'd freed from Gromix the Snail during our Great Escape. The convoy had started with 60 or so survivors, and it reached Night City closer to 300. Processing and integrating the former slave legion, I left to De'vi, though. They'd be valuable eventually, but for now, they were just broken, ill-equipped young men.

Fortunately, our first move in Night City didn't require too many able, fighting hands. After all, the Gonk Cartel was just reclaiming something I'd already won with the crew. My true debut in Night City had been to wipe out Maelstrom. Now, we came back to take over the turf in Watson that they used to inhabit. There was something poetic about rebuilding my power over the undercity sector where I first 'woke up' on Nar Shaddaa.

With that, the Gonk Cartel had a foothold in Night City. And we quickly expanded from there. Watson was… a complicated sector of Night City, often considered one of the most dangerous outside of the actual combat zones. Yet the infrastructure there could've rivaled a corpo district. Mostly because it was intended to at one point before being left for the dogs by the same corps who'd invested so heavily in it.

There was a whole industrial sub-district on the north side of the sector, densely-populated megabuildings near the center, a half-decent Med Center to the southeast, Kabuki to the east, and rival corpo properties sandwiching the sector from the far north and southwest. We occupied turf from the Northside Industrial District (NID) into Kabuki and to the old Tyger Claw territory around the Med Center in the southeast.

The Gonk Cartel carved our piece of Watson straight down the middle from the north to the south and east, acting as a nice buffer between the two corpo campuses. Militech's mil-base to the far north, and the Arasaka Waterfront — complete with an actual manmade bay that was as impressive as it was out of place on Nar Shaddaa — to the southwest. Honestly, the rival corps probably liked us being there to split them up now that there wasn't any other competition in Watson to speak of.

Maelstrom was six feet deep. And nothing of value was lost. The Tyger Claws were the same. Only a bit of value was lost with them, and considering their corpo masters were the ones to nail that coffin shut, they wouldn't be any more missed than Maelstrom.

The NID worked in our favor — and already we were hiring locals to get those old factories up and running for us — as well as Kabuki. Anything could be bought in Kabuki's maze-like black markets, and aside from slavery, we let them keep running as usual so long as we got a cut. We also, as it so happened, had the legendary Afterlife bar within our claimed territory. And that… that offered certain advantages that'd otherwise be impossible to get by ourselves.

Afterlife's legendary owner Rogue Amendiares made it clear that she didn't care about us moving in, that the Afterlife was hers and anyone who claimed differently could eat shit. That was fine. We didn't bother pressing a claim over the bar itself. It was still deep within our turf, after all.

Yet at the same time, Rogue said Legends were always welcome in her place. The crew was happy enough to just be back in the Afterlife (or for David, wide-eyed to be going for the first time). Coincidentally, it seemed that surviving an orbital strike made Legends out of everyone…

Already, quite a bit of our rebuilding efforts had taken place in the legendary bar. The Afterlife, it turned out, was a rather decent place to go about recruiting Night City natives. There, we met with gang leaders, fixers, netrunners, and solos. Contracts were hashed out and declarations were made over drinks named after Legends. The Gonk Cartel gained a new core of vassals to call upon. Night City vassals.

By day, we concerned ourselves with rebuilding the cartel's logistics — restocking our arsenal, acquiring new supplies of spice for profit, arranging and coordinating a system of bureaucracy in Sstala's vision, settling the new members into the cartel, and managing our territory. By night, we were usually in the Afterlife, recruiting more gangs, more solos, and more Legends. So far, we'd gotten the Valentinos and Voodoo Boys firmly onside. And we were in talks with the Animals, the Mox, and the Nomad Nations.

At the same time, I hadn't slacked off on improving myself. That… led me to a slight issue. There were new eyes on me now. Observant, experienced, Force-sensitive eyes…

The Jedi had been helpful without a doubt, but not immediately so. They likely found themselves with less to do than they'd expected. The Force was far from essential for rebuilding a criminal empire.

The Jedi couldn't be everywhere at once — like me — and I didn't particularly wish to include them in everything. A way of preserving plausible deniability. Quinlan and Aayla saw the necessity but they weren't particularly happy to be participating in 'crime'. And the Order certainly wouldn't condone it if they knew.

Of course, in Hutt Space, 'crime' wasn't so firmly defined. I'd used that technicality to include them in the grayer aspects of our rebuild. Mostly, they took over training and assessing the Gank Packs and the newest members of the cartel. But I also used them… sort of like bloodhounds, channeling the Force to sniff out betrayal, discontent, and opportunity.

Fay, however, wasn't so tied to the Order 'of Only Black and White Bullshit'. She was both more flexible than the modern Jedi and less. She was easily the most experienced person — in all things — I had at my disposal. But she refused to advise me on 'such mundane necessities and evils', whatever that meant. When it came to the Force, though, she would happily guide me into Hell and right back out.

She was also the only one to notice and plainly mention the effects of Inspired Inventor+…

"You've grown, Atom, between one moment and the next. A unique blessing of the Force, it whispers greatness from the spark of your being. Potential harnessed and increasingly fulfilled. I would call you a Knight in truth, now. Congratulations… I hope to see you continue growing until the day we finally part ways…"

When she 'confronted' me with that (read: simply stated it as if talking about the weather), I'd been slightly taken aback. I didn't know — couldn't know — what she'd seen. But she made it very clear that she wasn't angry or suspicious. Just… genuinely happy for me. Just… genuinely accepting.

Still, whatever she saw in me — however she perceived Inspired Inventor+ — was accurate. I had grown, spending acquired greatness to enhance myself. A surge of potential from the core of my being that made me more whole. Having someone notice was inevitable, but I still hadn't been expecting it. If anyone would notice, though, it'd be the ethereal thousand-year-old Elf Master…

It likely helped Fay notice that I'd focused on the Force with this round of Inspired Inventor+ investment. I was up six points when I found the free time to turn my attention inward. The first, ironically enough, was earned from Master Fay herself.

Our meeting had been a shatterpoint. A moment where the Force itself held its breath. But I only saw it after the fact. Taking her into my service while saying 'fuck prophecy' was the best course of action I could've taken.

The second and third points were earned from surviving the nuke from orbit. It was the first feat that'd earned me two points at once, but I could feel that they only overlapped. They were from the same event but for different reasons. One for actually surviving, and the other for the ripples of everything that would come from that.

The fourth point came from the Force practically cheering 'Keep on keeping on!'. It was for not giving up, for pushing ever forward, and for getting the fuck back up to my feet. Our Great Escape and Return to Night City played into all of that — proof in action that even an orbital strike wouldn't keep me down. The Force foresaw great things in my future. What, I didn't want to know — fuck prophecy — but it celebrated a dream and future that had yet to die with that fourth point I'd earned.

The fifth and sixth points came after we returned to Night City. The former for the usual week's progress, and the latter for putting action to words. For REBUILDING. Every individual inch of progress the Gonk Cartel remade for itself went toward that last point. Our foothold, our restocked arsenal, our reestablished systems, our new recruits, and our shared determination to ruin the Hutts growing more real by the hour — all of it built toward a Legend in the Making.

With six points to spend, I felt it was prudent to bite a certain costly bullet. I spent four of them upgrading Force Sensitivity from level III to level IV. It was easily the most wide-reaching and effective investment I could make.

Force Sensitivity was the opposite of a 'focused' discipline. It was all-encompassing, and because of that, it touched on everything I did with the Force.

It was my power, potential, and connection. It was a hundred little 'standard' skills — Telekinesis, Athleticism, Awareness, Precognition, and many more. It enhanced my other Force powers. As far as Inspired Inventor+ was concerned, Force Sensitivity seemed to be the foundation everything 'Force' was built on and the skeleton key that opened a seemingly infinite number of doors.

That was what Fay noticed. It was certainly something worth noticing. And how could she not…? Just about every moment I was awake, Fay was there. I wouldn't be surprised if that fact extended to the few moments of rest I'd gotten, too… She took her role as my 'guide' rather seriously. I couldn't bring myself to hate her presence. And not just because she was very easy on the eyes… More than that, she was useful, wise, and straight-up inspiring.

"Would you like me to Knight you?" Fay asked when 'confronting' and congratulating me.

"… I'm no Jedi," I refused.

"No… No, I suppose you're not. You're something different, something unique, something new," Fay conceded. "Still, I feel the need to recognize your growth somehow. Perhaps a different title? Champion?"

"And how would that help anyone with anything?" I asked flatly, raising an eyebrow.

Fay glanced away with a dusting blush on her cheeks, "I-I suppose it would be rather meaningless to anyone but me and perhaps you… A milestone without any true weight or history. I simply thought it'd be a nice sentiment and maybe even the start of something."

"…" Dammit. This woman… Fine, it cost me nothing to humor her. "Call me whatever you want."

Fay turned back to me with a surprised blink that quickly turned into an outright stunning smile, "Oh, joy! Champion, the galaxy's first! Fitting for someone who fights for the Force but follows neither the ways of the Jedi nor the Sith. And perhaps young David can eventually follow in your footsteps!"

"… Yeah, he'd probably love that shit."

For my next two Inspired Inventor+ investments, I couldn't say if Fay noticed them or not. She didn't mention them. But then, they were focused and 'subtle' enough that they might've slipped past even her. One of the final two points upgraded Shatterpoint to level II. But that was as much of a 'unique perspective' thing as it was a Force power.

With the last point, I had a desired effect in mind, but no name to go with it. No idea what I actually had to invest in. Since we were back in Night City, I wanted a Force Power focused on tech. Understanding, control, something. When establishing dominance over so much chrome, bending tech to my will with the Force would be… helpful, to say the least.

But again, I had no idea what investment would give me that effect. So, I cast my idea into Inspired Inventor+, willing the system to find what I desired. It did. And as usual, the spark of my being didn't disappoint.

There must've been thousands of Force powers that'd simply been forgotten to the sands of time. Or more likely, suppressed from the galaxy by the Jedi or Sith. Inspired Inventor+ didn't give a shit if a technique was supposed to be 'lost', though. If it'd been invented at some point, it was within the system's domain.

Mechu-Deru was no exception to that rule. And for my purposes, it was just about perfect. Calling upon the Force power granted me an instinctive understanding of technological and mechanical systems. But more importantly, it allowed me to bind those systems to my will.

As far as I could tell, the bindings were permanent unless I broke them myself. But they were also deeply, unsettlingly personal. Like extensions of my very soul. I felt every bit of feedback and every vibration from the machines. Even with Humanity: Maxed, I knew going overboard with them would just be uncomfortable and overwhelming.

And sometimes, the bindings outright refused to take. As if spirits within the machines spurned me. Some of it might've been the level of the Force power — only level I — but I instinctively knew there was more to it. Especially with the more 'alive' droids. Even if I maxed out Mechu-Deru, I doubted I'd ever be able to bind a 'machine spirit' (for lack of a better word…) like R2D2. Not in a way that would truly stick, at the very least.

For non-thinking machines, it worked like a charm, though. I could steal chrome essentially right out of people. I couldn't ask for much more than that. It worked for just about everything I needed it for. Whether that'd stay true for a monster like Smasher, though… Only time would tell. I had a sinking feeling in the Force that I'd find out sooner rather than later…

Inspired Inventor+

Humanity [Maxed]

Scavenging I

Scrapyard Mechanics I

Emergency/Improvised Medical Care II

Cyberware I

Brawling (Weapons Varied) I

Force Healing II

Genetic Engineering (Evolutionary) I

Force Alchemy III

Gun-Fu II

Espionage II

Force Sensitivity III [+4] -> IV

Coordination II

Art of the Small II

Shatterpoint I [+1] -> II

Delegation I

Material Sciences I

Warfare II

[+1] -> Mechu-Deru I

IIIII

The Gonk Cartel's recruiting ran into some troubles in places I should've foreseen. Two of the gangs looking to join up with us were… chained. That the Mox would quite literally be sapient-trafficked sex slaves was obvious in hindsight. But I hadn't expected the Animals of all gangs to be in a somewhat similar situation.

Not the 'sex' part. But certainly still the 'slavery' part, and surprisingly enough, the 'sapient-trafficking' was similar, too. The Mox was made up of young, beautiful women, stolen from across the galaxy and 'stranded' as sex slaves in Night City. The Animals were the same and the opposite. They were strong men and women — made stronger by various means — from just about every walk of life. They were held in more literal bondage and all they knew now was fighting.

Both gangs were some of the only places in Night City where nonhumans could be consistently found. And where the Mox were slaves of 'circumstance', the Animals were more akin to gladiators, forced to fight for their master's enjoyment so constantly that a strange Stockholm Syndrome set in for them. They were feral. Primal. Fighting every moment just to survive. I… may have empathized with them somewhat…

And who were the masters…? Who. Fucking. Else? Night City wasn't completely devoid of Hutts. They were rare here — only five across the whole city — but still an inevitability that was impossible for some to escape. 'Some' like the Mox and the Animals… It made a measure of sense that both gangs sought us out…

"-But why am I just finding this out now…?" I growled at the two gang leaders who joined me in a slightly more private booth of the Afterlife.

Rogue was 'kind enough' to let us essentially rent a portion of the bar when we were here for business. The crew was here, and we were joined by the Jedi. Most of them were in the main booth. Fay and Sasha joined me for this 'enlightening' negotiation with the Animals and the Mox.

From the rest of the Gonk Cartel's leadership, Sstala was off working tirelessly (and enthusiastically) as she had for the past week here in Night City. I don't think she'd had a moment of sleep in days, but the last time I saw her, she was perhaps the most satisfied I'd ever seen her. And I'd sent Linth to negotiate with the Nomad Nations, to win their fleets to our side. They'd probably get along like a ship on fire. Shank, Coyate, and Shaitan were on training duty tonight. Suunri and De'vi were both there with us, though.

Sasquatch — a beast of a woman who was as large as Maine — shrugged, "Did not think matter. Is the way it always is. We fight. Other things not important."

"It's pretty fucking important," I deadpanned. "We're at war with the Hutts. Hutts hold your chains. Can you figure out why those two facts would come into conflict?"

Sasquatch cocked her head, staring at me with a piercing gaze, "But… we fight?"

I stared right back, "You'll fight for free once I'm done with you lot. Your Hutt masters need to go. You want to fight with us? Fight them first."

Speaking of things she understood seemed to get through to her. Sasquatch nodded, "Ah. We fight to fight. Like proving fight, yes? Like… test…?"

"Something like that," I turned my attention back to the Mox leader. "Her, I can understand. But you, Susie. Why are you only mentioning your gang's connection to the Hutts when we're about to sign a contract?"

Susie Q winced, "'Cause officially? There's no connection. Of course, everyone knows that's bullshit. A Hutt — Somba — pretty much owns Lizzie's Bar. He owns where we sleep, what we eat, and who we take work from. But he's smart enough to keep direct fingers out of our pie. He's just… all we have, and not by choice. Never by choice… The girls and I exist at his whim. Our pasts are lost to us. Our presents are chained to Somba."

"And you knew I'd handle the situation if you came to me. You're right. But I'd have done that whether you joined up or not," I snorted. "I won't suffer a slug to live. All you had to do was point me in the right direction."

Tension drained out of Susie in a dramatic fashion, "Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck… It's really happening, isn't it…?"

Sasha and Fay were at her side in a moment, Sasha cooing comfort Susie's way, "There, there, babes~… Let's introduce you to De'vi. She'll help you cope and understand."

"There is no shame in relief," Fay softly soothed. "Have faith, young one. You have been through so much. You may deny the past, but it still weighs heavily on you. Let it go. Soon, it will be tethered only by broken chains."

"Alright, gonks!" I called over to the main booth. "Who wants to hunt some Hutts?!"

In an instant, David slid into the booth beside me, grinning. Becca wasn't far behind. If I didn't know better, I would've said she had stolen David's Force Speed. Maine, Aayla, and Quinlan came over at a much more sedate pace. And as Sasha and Fay led Susie to De'vi who'd be able to do more than just understand her plight, Sasquatch leaned toward me over the table.

"I would fight."

"Yeah, you would, wouldn't you, big bitcha~?" Becca teased.

"You ask to be squashed, little girl?" Sasquatch scowled at her.

Becca scoffed, "Not by your big ass. Atom 'squashes' me good enough."

"Shut up. Both of you," I rolled my eyes, mostly at Becca. "Damn straight, you're going to fight, Sas. Get your Animals ready, and we'll find out how the Hutts like it when their fighting beasts are turned back on them."

"Good deal," Sasquatch nodded, seeming supremely satisfied with her first real order from the Gonk Cartel. "Will clobber. Will clobber slugs good."

She didn't spare another moment on manners or conversation, standing straight from the booth and walking off, presumably to gather her gang. I stood as well, and the rest followed.

"So, what's the sitch, choom?" David asked.

"Yes, what exactly are we getting ourselves into now?" Aayla's tone was somewhere between exasperation and amusement, with an undercurrent of determined resolve.

"We're hunting Hutts," I chopped out. "Just like I said. Just like we have been. Only now, we're doing it on our home turf."

"Knew this was comin' eventually," Maine smirked. "Guess all we were waiting for was for you to find out about the local slugs. I've been keepin' an eye on 'em. Just in preparation, ya know? Well, Gloria, Dorio, and Kiwi have, but same shit. Who do you want first, kid?"

"I doubt the Animals would forgive me if I didn't let them go after their masters first," I decided. "From what I heard, this 'Somba' slug is more hands-off with the Mox. Taking care of him for them can wait until the rest are dead and buried."

"Ugly kriffing sitch, that," Maine grunted. "The Hutts keep 'em like… well, Animals. Almost literally chained and always ready to fight for their amusements. 'Course, without their chained beasts, they've got nothing."

"Easy pickings, then," Quinlan nodded. "And I'd say they brought a bit of turnabout on themselves."

"Not even Master Yoda would object," Aayla chuckled.

Fay rejoined us, "No, but I suspect he would find the irony fitting, satisfying, and amusing all at once. He always did have a… well, let's say 'twisted' sense of humor."

Aayla opened her mouth to respond, paused, and then sighed, "I don't think I'll ever get used to you talking about the Grandmaster like that, Master Fay. Not that you haven't earned the right, of course. It's just… strange for those of us who were raised by Master Yoda in the creche."

Fay smirked, "Yet I was the one who raised him in those very same youngling halls. Oh, the irony continues, and delightfully so."

"Yeah, delightfully," I deadpanned. "All that's left is to make the Hutts' ironic downfall very, very real. They're in our city. Colonizers. Slavers. Worthless fucking abusers. It's practically our duty to rid Night City of their bullshit. Start a tally. Five Hutts, and by the end of the night, that number needs to be zero. C'mon, people, we're going Hutt hunting…"

IIIII

The night passed in a haze of preem violence. Maine, true to what he'd said, had been keeping track of the Hutts who tried to insert themselves into Night City. We knew where to hit. We had a small army of dorphed and roided-up physical beasts behind us. And the protection the Hutt masters might've enjoyed — that same small army… — conveniently wasn't there when their masters called so desperately.

As such, the Hutt hunt was… almost relaxing. A process of freeing violence that I'd grown well used to. At least for the Animals' side of things. Any resistance we found was insignificant. Hired mercs and droids at most. We carved through them like so much butter. The slugs curled up and cowered in their hideouts. We pulled them out by the meat of their tails.

Mountains of muscle — the Animals — hit each location like steroid-boosted hammers. Each of the gladiator-esque slave gangers was the bluntest of weapons. But point them in the right direction and few things could stand in their way.

Sasquatch led her people to smash straight through walls and fortifications. Durasteel droids were shattered to scrap. Hired mercs were straight-up ripped in two. Then, like good, eager, hunting hounds, they dragged their old sluggy masters before me and dropped them right at my feet.

The slugs sobbed and screamed. They begged for their lives. I wasn't in a very forgiving mood. Hutts… In our city…? Disgraceful. It just wouldn't do. One by one, I finished them off. Pack by pack, the Animals were freed. They were… happy with the freedom. Relatively so. I imagined they were probably more satisfied with the fight I'd offered them than the freedom. But it still mattered. And with their broken chains, the Animals were tied to me and the Gonk Cartel, likely for good.

Three Hutts down… Only one Animal master to go. And then, we'd turn our focus to the Mox. That was going to call for a… subtler hand, I already knew. For one, the Mox weren't the melee-fighting beasts that the Animals were. They were sex slaves, and not openly enslaved, at that. For another, this 'Somba' who held their chains sounded… halfway competent…

"This is… rather simpler than I expected," Quinlan commented frankly.

"It's their freedom. They deserve to fight for it themselves," I said.

"Can't let the Animals have all the fun, though," Maine chuckled.

"I don't know if would call this 'fun'…" Aayla demurred. "But I am enjoying it to a certain extent. I suspect there will always be some amount of satisfaction to be found in freeing slaves."

"We've done good work tonight," Fay said softly. "Not many would think twice about the Animals. Theirs is the slavery that often goes unnoticed. For, other than amusement, why would 'noble' beings look to the fight pits? Even the most outspoken freedom supporter would see them as 'mere brutes'. But they are people, just like the rest. And they don't deserve to be forgotten simply because the lives they are forced to live are 'unpalatable'."

"They're ugly fuckers," I grunted. "But they're our ugly fuckers now."

Below us, in a courtyard that reached the open air, Sasquatch quite literally roared. A dozen of her Animals — each almost as massive as her — echoed it. At one end of the courtyard, a locked and fortified door led to a safehouse deep within concrete 'geology'.

There'd been guards — massive security droids to rival the Animals. Now, they lay in pieces, torn apart by unnaturally muscled men and women — with blunt weapons of war and even bare hands.

The 'pitiful' wounds inflicted by the droids' blasters were ignored by every Animal who felt them. Hell, they likely didn't. Feel them, that is…

With her gang's echoing roars, Sasquatch turned her attention to the thick, barred door — the last barrier between the Animals and their final freedom. She hefted a 50-lb sledgehammer like it was nothing. The deadliest knock in the galaxy rang out as she pounded her hammer upon the door. Thick durasteel creaked, croaked, and shuddered. She slammed into the door with all of her strength.

*Clang!*

A chant started up among the Animals, "Clobber!"

*CLANG!*

"CLOBBER!"

*CLANG-RRRRRSH!*

"CLOBBER!" As the door gave way, the chant reached a fever pitch.

Even fortified durasteel began to cave. A dent like a crater grew with every strike. The door's frame sheered and shattered. The head of Sasquatch's brutal hammer pierced straight through the barred entrance. She wrenched it out, making a jagged hole in the process. In a moment, her Animals were beside her, gripping the hole without a single shit given for the jagged edges. They roared once more, and as one, pulled.

Before several tons of roided-up muscle, steel sheered. The hole in the door was ripped right open. Their victory was howled to the heavens.

"I think that might just be our cue," Aayla joked.

I gave an acknowledging grunt, "Let's finish this quickly. There's still more work to be done tonight."

"Fuck a BD savepoint, we're goin' right in!" Becca exclaimed.

"Race ya~?" David teased.

"That isn't fair in the slightest," Quinlan deadpanned. "The things you do with Force Speed, David… well, banthashit. Just. Banthashit."

David shrugged, a cocky grin on his face, "Guess I'm just built different."

I couldn't help it. I snorted a genuine laugh at that. Even as I stepped off the courtyard balcony we were perched on, I was shaking my head with amusement. The Force let me land without a whisper. The others followed, Maine carrying Becca down with a crash and Fay almost literally floating the whole way.

"C'mon, Mr. Built Different," I said, still smirking slightly. "Our Jedi friends might not have the balls to race you, but I'll give it a shot."

David made a show of buffing his nails on his jacket, "Alright, choom, I'll give you a headstart."

"And I'll take it," I accepted without a hint of shame. "Close your eyes and count to five."

David grinned, "It still won't be a fair match."

Still, he gave me the headstart he said he would. The moment he closed his eyes, I snatched Becca up over my shoulder and took off at a sprint. He was right. It wouldn't be a fair match. So I stole myself a shoulder gunner to help even the odds. Becca seemed to get the idea, eagerly cackling the entire way.

I passed the Animals and ran into the last Hutt's safehouse in moments. They took that as a challenge, joining the race with whoops, bellows, and howls. I just focused on running. On my shoulder, Becca already had a blaster out. She sprayed full-auto at everything we passed.

The merc guards within the safehouse couldn't track me to save their lives. Becca filled them all with plasma. Her laughter practically harmonized with the blaster fire. I sensed merc after merc die where they stood. Heads burst. Armor was burned straight through. Flesh fell in short, violently-lived flames. The mercs didn't even get shots off at us in return.

That unmistakable scent of blaster-burned bodies must've followed us like a trail. And still, it wasn't enough. Mere seconds after our headstart ended, David blurred past us.

Running full tilt as I was, I actually caught sight of the cocky grin he shot us as he shot past. Quinlan was right. David's Force Speed-Sandie combo was utter bullshit. Built different, indeed… I was just glad he was on our side.

Like the others before him, the last Hutt master didn't put up any fight for himself. Without his guards, with his gladiators turned against him, he was nothing. Useless. Worthless. Fucking feckless and pathetic.

I made sure he saw my face before he died… but I let Sasquatch and her Animals do the actual honors of beating him to pulped slug meat. I gave them the chance, the alternative, and the direction they needed, but truly, the Animals freed themselves.

IIIII

"Heya, Susie~!" Becca shouted a cheerful greeting as we entered the Mox's bar.

"Hey, Becks," Susie Q replied automatically before stopping and doing a double take at the sight of her, "… Becks…? What are you…? Oh, damn, I didn't even realize."

"You were Mox, Becca?" David asked.

"Nah," Becca waved. "I hung around here a bunch as a pipsqueak, running with 'em but not, ya know, 'running' with 'em. Good chooms, though."

"She just up and vanished one day," Susie elaborated, fondness entering her eyes as she did. "I heard she joined Maine's crew but we couldn't really keep track of her."

"And now look where we all ended up~!" Becca laughed and grinned. "Full circle and all that~!"

"Touching. So what's the deal? Where's this 'Somba' fucker?" I asked, cutting straight back to the point.

"He's, uh, coming here…" Susie admitted. "I told him about meeting with you. He's obviously not happy about that. But I figured it'd be best to lure him here so you can do what you need to do."

Lizzie's Bar — the Mox's home turf — was our last stop of the night. Just as I promised, I'd take care of their discreet little Hutt problem. Four Hutts crossed off our hunting tally. Only one to go. This one would bring my Hutt kill count up to nine. At the same time, it'd secure another gang for the Gonk Cartel, just as the other four Hutt kills of the night had secured the Animals.

"Isn't it kind of risky to be doing this in your bar?" Aayla asked.

Susie laughed bitterly, "What other choice do I have? Somba's got us by the cunts, and it was either lure him out or never find him. He'll feel safe enough here to come, but he won't be expecting you all."

"What does he have on you?" Quinlan asked quietly.

"Technically, we don't even fully own Lizzie's anymore," Susie explained, shaking her head as if the words tasted sour. "He bought out the land beneath us. The building is ours but the rent's so bad that debt was the only option. That's how he gets you. Not collars or chains, but debt and manufactured obligations."

And these days…" Susie continued. "He just dumps new girls on our doorstep — stolen for who knows where. What am I supposed to do? Not take them in?"

"You say they're not, but all I see are chains and collars," Fay said sympathetically, quite literally glowing with soothing understanding. "Worry not. They shall be broken soon."

Fay's touch through the Force helped put Susie at ease. She let the tension bleed out of her posture, unshed tears falling while she refused to acknowledge them, "I-… I know. That's why you're all here. It's just… he's all I've worried about and stressed over for more than a year now. He's sneaky and cruel and just, like… looming, ya know? I felt like there was no escape for so long, and now that there is, it still doesn't quite feel real…"

"I think I just found something to hate more than 'just any' Hutt," I growled. "From now on, it's fuck a subtle Hutt most of all… Right. I need everyone else to make themselves seem scarce. You too, Susie. I suddenly feel like handling this shit myself…"

"Don't meet him on his terms, choom," Maine advised. "You've got the power here. Make sure he knows that."

"Wasn't planning on it," I agreed, cracking my neck in anticipation. "He wants to play subtle? I'll play unsubtle. I haven't had enough direct action for tonight anyway."

"Alright, kid, you're the boss," Maine shrugged. "We'll be around. Won't even need to shout. But if you gotta do this for yourself, you gotta do it for yourself."

David grinned, "Last Hutt in Night City. Give 'em Hell, choom."

"I'd say he deserves somewhat worse than that for dumping girls on a doorstep and forcing them into a life like this," Aayla scowled. "No offense, of course, Susie Q."

"No, I get it," Susie shook her head. "I agree, even. I love my girls, but every one of us dreams of something more than this, ya know?"

"When we are done — when you are free," Fay said. "We shall see about making those dreams into realities."

Susie Q cracked a smile, the first one I'd seen on her lips, "I think me and my girls would like that very much."

The others made themselves disappear after that and I was left — seemingly — alone in the bar. Susie went back to comfort her girls where they were hidden. But my crew were just hidden around the bar. Maine, Fay, and Quinlan would keep heads cool enough that I could do this on my own like I wanted to. Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long for the last Hutt on our night's tally.

"Susanna Quinn! What's this I hear about you going behind your benevolent benefactor's bac-…!" Somba — a surprisingly small example of his species colored a dappled blue — stopped short when he saw only me inside the bar. "You're… not Susanna."

"No," I agreed. "I'm not. What gave it away?"

"Oh, dear," Somba frowned. "Well, who you are is rather obvious, isn't it? Yes, I recognize you as well. Greetings, Atom. I was honestly hoping to put this meeting off for a little while longer."

"You were going to try and worm your way into my good graces," I scowled, knowing the words to be true the moment I said them."

"Something like that, yes," Somba freely admitted. "I may be Hutt, but I'm no true friend of the Ruling Clans. I make my home here in Night City out of exile, actually. I'd hoped to arrange a more favorable first meeting to try and overcome the inevitable suspicion and hostility you would direct my way…"

He sighed, "But I suppose your opinion of me has already been doubly soured, hasn't it?"

"Considering what you're doing to the girls here?" I asked rhetorically. "Considering you've forced them into debt slavery and hung yourself over their heads so they couldn't escape? Considering you trafficked many of them here in the first place? Yeah. Just a bit. You might not be Clan, but you're right. You're still a Hutt."

Somba clicked his tongue, "Kriff… Well, isn't this just a shame? I'd even gathered valuable information to help your war effort and balance out my little crimes — and you must admit that they are relatively insignificant compared to the others. Certainly, I was controlling and acting in my interests, but I did far less than another Hutt would in my place.

"Why, I wasn't even the one to steal the girls into slavery! I simply bought them halfway and found them a suitable home! In a way, I freed them! In another… I did all I could for such a poor situation. Are… you sure there is no middle ground for us to find here…?"

I stared at him. And stared… Mentally, I swore. I didn't like it. I kind of hated that immediately resorting to violence didn't seem like the best way to handle this Hutt. But he was easily the most palatable Hutt I'd met. Now, that wasn't saying much… but it was saying 'something'. And the information he had did change things…

I'd have to check up on that last claim of his. If he wasn't the source of the Mox girls' trafficking, if he was indeed doing what he could to help them in his own way… that was worth something. Maybe not a complete pardon, but not a death sentence, either.

After the orbital strike from the Clans showing how merciless they were and ridding the rest of the Hutts from Night City in a night to show we were far from toothless in return, showing a bit of mercy to a Hutt who might even deserve it could go a long way for our image. Proof beyond doubt that we were better than the Clans, even to our enemies. Worse, it was… ugh, the right thing to do…

In the Force, I felt Quinlan and Aayla advocating for compassion and mercy as they overheard our exchange. David… didn't seem to care either way. He certainly wouldn't lose sleep over a Hutt, but Somba seemed… maybe even useful. Certainly better than any other Hutt we'd come up against.

It was Fay who pushed my decision forward. She felt strict yet fair. Justice and compassion for the Hutt's victims, but no killing for killing's sake. Most of all, she knew I'd make the right choice. She didn't push anything onto me. She just… had fucking faith in me. And letting her down simply because it was easier to kill and forget Somba… well, it'd feel like letting down a saint.

"Here's your middle ground," I eventually growled. "You tell me your paydata. You transfer everything you own — and I'll make damn sure of that — to Susie Q and the Mox. Then, I'll just lock you the fuck up instead of murdering your ass."

"Are you sure…?" Somba tried, his tone coaxing and persuasive. "I imagine I could be a great boon to your war effort-…"

I stood firm, glaring him back into place, "Take it. Or leave it. Killing you is no skin off my back. I'm being generous already. Grr… merciful, even… And I'm still gonna let the Mox get their slice of you once you're in chains for a change. That's the best you're going to get."

Somba chuckled, half mournfully and half acceptingly, and I didn't even want to hit him out of instinct, "Haha-hah… I suppose a life behind bars is still a life. Perhaps I'll be the only Hutt left alive on Nar Shaddaa once you finish your crusade, yes? That would be… something…? A treat? A tragedy? I don't know if I could say just yet."

I ruthlessly suppressed the slight amusement I felt, simply staring expectantly, "Start transferring, Hutt. Susie Q better come back to the realization that she owns you now, or I'll start reconsidering our little agreement here. And while you do all of that… what's your paydata?"

"Oh, conspiracy and coalition!" Somba began, perhaps not happily but at peace with his fate already. He really was frustratingly inoffensive for a Hutt. Maybe even likable… "You must realize that you can't rise as you have unopposed. While you gather support from some corners of the city, you gather opposition from others. Namely, some of the corps are making the 'safe bets'."

"'Safe bets', how?" I pressed.

"Why, they're betting on the Clans, of course," Somba elaborated. "Militech seems to be leading the corpo coalition. They're selling weapons and armored vehicles to the Clans at a rate I've never seen. They've dragged their 6th Street gangers along with them. And I've heard they're even in talks to sell their security forces to the Clans' side of the war. If nothing is done, you'll soon find yourself assaulted from within the city, and by Militech forces at that! They'll be a damn sight more competent than anything else the Clans can hire!"

"… Fucking Hutts. Fucking Militech," I swore before asking. "Not Arasaka?"

"Surprisingly? No," Somba said. "Of course, they'll never let themselves be on the same side as Militech. But they're also one of the corps that's no stranger to risky wagers. And I admit this openly now but never again for my own safety… my source for Militech's plot possibly came down the chain from the Emperor himself…"

I took a moment to process that game-changing information… but really, only two words came to mind, "… Fucking corpos."