Chapter 2 A Reluctant Reunion

Before the Fracture, the US Federal government would send out bounty lists for unidentified Cybernetically Enhanced Individuals or CEIs. These individuals would start calling themselves Keys and for those who would turn these individuals in, they would be named Keyrunners. In Neo-Vegas, the word would be used ironically by its denizens for those who just did odd jobs. Over time, the name stuck but the memories lingered. Most Keyrunners have a primary sponsor they run to when they need work. Whenever that sponsor can find the right Keyrunner for the job, they gain more notoriety. Simply put, it’s a symbiotic relationship, but there are those who enjoy taking advantage of this simplicity. Despite the city's best efforts, betrayal between a Sponsor and Keyrunner is a commonality in the business and it’s part of the reason why Blink doesn’t have one. He’s known as a lancer, those who run on their own terms and take up jobs not many others would. Lancers are actually preferred in the business. Someone with no good Sponsor to watch their back tends to be an easy target but Blink is quite despised for this inability to be an easy target. A decent portion of his jobs are turning in Sponsors who betray their own Keyrunners, so despite his role being preferred among the business, he is specifically seen as someone you don’t want around.

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"Looks like you've been missed!" Cle0 jokes in his head, as he ignores the passing eyes. Other keyrunners sit behind tables talking amongst themselves. 

"Yeah, it seems like it." He retorts.

He continues down the club, finally reaching a bar counter that’s been refurbished to be a job provisioning station…It’s also still a bar. At the helm, A bald man with a well kept, salt and pepper beard, wipes down the counter with a rag. He’s wearing an expensive looking burgundy pin up suit, the suit itself barely hiding his bulky figure. He’s also sporting a giant single artificial eye replacing his organics, plastered in the smack dab middle of his face. On the left of his chest, a name tag reads his name, Duke Kovalenko. The primary manager and owner of this establishment and Duke takes pride in that. An honest working man, a dying breed and probably the last of his kind in these parts.

 “AH Blink! My friend! What business brings you in today?” He says in a rather thick Russian accent.

“Just have a job to turn in, Duke” Blink says pulling out a card with an insignia attached to it, the insignia looks like an F and a T merged into one, A lionhead facing forward is seen above the symbol. “Ohhohooo! A Familia job here in our part of town? Finally hit the big leagues huh?”

Blink shakes his head “Just a job given to the Triggermen by The Familia, they gave it to me and already paid. They just needed someone to take their trash out again but couldn’t be bothered to do it themselves. You know I’m not one to say no to an easy job. Just make sure you put it under the Triggermen’s name.”

The cyclops picks the card up with his metal hands. His camera-like eye zooms in and out. He plugs the card into a slot on the counter and a floating screen begins to project details regarding the job. It reads details of a once street-level Sponsor turned druglord known simply as “Chao”. He was located within a drug ring in the West prefecture of the Red Light District. A red window dings red as Duke presses a few keys. He makes a sigh, being both impressed and disappointed. “You have a gift, you know that? The jobs you turn in require hundreds of men to pull off But who knows your name? I know your name but what does it matter if you never get recognized?”

 Blink simply smirks back. “I’d rather keep it this way, Duke. I'm not looking for recognition here. Quite the opposite.” Blink side eyes towards the rest of the tables, some still staring him down. The burly man shrugs and has the projection turned off. “Whatever you say, friend. Just keep watch over yourself alright? You are one of my most consistent Lancers.” He says taking the card from the counter and placing it within a drawer.

 “Will do. With that said, got anything new?” Duke shakes his head but then his cyborg eye flashes. "Oh that's right! Two men came in earlier, said they was in need of your specialties."

"Got any detail?"

"Yeah, yeah, honestly you couldn't miss em. One reeked of booze while the other couldn't stand still to save his soul." Blink immediately looks towards the exit. "Doesn’t ring a bell." This was a half-truth. Some would even call it a lie. Blink knows it, Cle0 knows it and a part of Duke could see through the cracks. Now, he doesn't usually lie to those he trusts like Duke but his reasoning was already halfway out the room, completely replaced with theoverwhelming desire to get back into that car of his. What was he doing here? Blink knows one of these men, a man so drunk, his body is composed more of wheat than it is water.

There is a pause in the air. Before Duke can say how terrible of a liar Blink is, he turns around and begins his way back to the entrance he came through.

Unfortunately, within that span of time, Blink feels a familiar metal hand grab his shoulder, to which he immediately responds by pulling said hand along with the shoulder and body attached to said hand, over his own. The man’s hat flies off his head as he plummets to the ground with a bounce.

He lies there for a moment but then begins to chuckle, and then to a laugh. The type of laugh that can only be made by someone who's been drunk for 6 years and be completely unphased to blunt force trauma. "Well it's nice seein’ you too, pardner!" He says in a long southern drawl, nearly slurring his words. Wearing a similar get up to Blink's, although far less kempt, the man bares a few striking features. First, that old time cowboy hat from before, it carries a few small flasks, 3 to be exact upon its brim. Second, a scar down the left side of his face crossing his chin, he always has a new story for how he got it, and third a terribly unkempt muttonchop beard that hides his wrinkles. The hat matches the stench of booze emanating from the man, a smell that would singe the eyebrows off your face if you stepped too close. The entire club grows quiet and looks at the two, all collectively wondering if a fight is breaking out.

"What are you doing here, Dust." Blink says standing directly over the drunk, hands back in pockets.

"What? Can a guy not check up on his protege?" He says reaching out for Blink to help him up, Blink keeps his hands in his pockets.

"Not your protege and I've already told you to stay away from here.."

"Yeahhhh well, sometimes..." Dust finally gets back on his feet in a surprisingly quick manner for a drunk. He takes a gander at the hat before brushing it off and placing it back, square on his head. "...Deals need to b’reworked and exceptions need to b’made...especially if both parties share common interest." He says finishing his hat adjustment.

Blink now being more confused, questions the cybernetic wrangler. "What are you talking about?" Dust sighs. "I know you’re not gonna believe me but...this is urgent, kid. I don't wanna say names but it involves...you know who." Blinks confusion spirals into fury. Dust seeing this, steps back, raising his metal hands into the air.

 "Hey now hold on before you get into another rut, I need you t‘hear this old man out a'right? I'm not here t‘fight you. We both know who'd win that (me, of course). and I'm sure you can see that I wouldn't break said deal if it wasn't for somethin’ personally pertinent."

Blink pauses... Dust is right. He's a drunk and frankly company Blink could go without but he cares about what happened too....

"5 minutes. That's all you get."

"S'all I need....S’all WE need." He begins to close in on Blink and speaks low.

"Now follow me, there's someone else you'll wanna meet. An old friend. Also there's just too many wandering eyes in this space." Blink looks around at the tables, seeing everyone's eyes shifting back to their conversations and sighs "Can't argue with that."