An Engineer In Night City - ch 8.1 (Patreon)

New Outposts (1)

A familiar buggy drives through the roads of North California at top speed, occasionally dodging the remaining debris on the ruined road and the various potholes in the way. Far away from the vehicle, a caravan of Nomads accelerates to come closer to the Engineer.

Mark looks back at the small collection of motorized cavalry hot on his tail. “Did I offend one of them, or is this another hit from the corporations?”

As the minutes pass the pursuers slowly close the distance on Mark’s buggy until they become visible to the naked eye.

Mark is incredulous at the sight, risking putting his head outside to make sure his eyes are not betraying him. “Are those fucking Mad Max cars?”

The cars have an old design, blowing dirty smog from their exhausters. Most of the vehicles were modified in some capacity by adding all sorts of accessories, such as chains, spikes, extra tires to act as armor, gun turrets crudely bolted on the car roof, lawn chains to act as thrones, bones from dead animals and fallen enemies, to even sex toys in a brightly colored car on the far left flank.

The drivers and gunners follow a similar aesthetic, with bare-chested, masked road warriors shooting randomly in the air, to armor scavenged from a century-old sports shop, metal armor crafted in a garage, everyone in the mechanized cavalry had a certain degree of spikes and superfluous metal on them.

Mark exasperatedly sighs at the absurdity of the image, then he realizes what this implies and he starts grinning like a maniac. “If that’s how you want things to be, your loss!”

The buggy quickly turns back to charge towards the hostile caravan following it and the Nomad clan’s horns and buzz scream in the air together with their drivers and other passengers.

Mark forces down his smile as he takes a stoic appearance for the sake of his next move. “Omae wa mou shindeiru.”

“What?” One of the enemy drivers asks his gunner, “What is he doing?” The gunner looks through his sniper scope to get a better view, until his head turns violently and he smashes his fist on the radio to broadcast an order. “Everyone spread out now!”

The order came too late for most of the vehicles in the vanguard when several gun turrets materialized on the road and started firing at them, blowing up tires, hitting engines, and shooting down the drivers, gunners, and other passengers alike.

Mark swerves the car once more to meet with the caravans at an angle. He looks at the carnage he unleashed on the ignorante Nomads, grinning at the fallen enemies. “Next time think before picking up a fight against someone, dumbass!”

One surviving Nomad gingerly stands up and aims his rocket launcher at the buggy, firing the deadly weapon.

“Shit!”

The vehicle blows up, ejecting the driver outside safely but turning into useless scrap in the process. Some of the road warriors lagging see the destroyed buggy as a sign they won the engagement and rush back to encircle the Engineer to exact their vengeance on him.

The Engineer takes a deep breath, before taking out his Tank from his pocket and inserting rocket fuel to give the war machine extra speed and acceleration. Hitting the accelerator, he starts going forward while aiming his tank’s main canon.

A group of vehicles driving too close together explodes as the cannon shells hit them, launching people into the air. The Nomads scream in fear and confusion at the sight and firepower of the new vehicle, and some of them forget the gun turret's threat before they’re also gunned down.

Mark flicks a witch when a group of courageous road warriors comes close to his tank to attempt boarding it, turning the flamethrowers active.

Cars start to burn as the fires roar in the air, and people caught in the flames jump into the ground to roll and attempt to put out the flames futilely, being turned into a paste by their allies or under the tracks of the Enginer's tank.

Mark doesn’t bother slowing down his Armor, changing the orientation of his main canon and firing shell after shell.

The Nomads die screaming until their leader turns around to escape.

Mark watches them running away with satisfaction. He turns his tank back to the road and resumes his trip to his next destination. Wyoming.

...

The sight of the tank driving in the local settlement startled the population as they mobilized to answer the threat.

Amused, Mark gets out of his vehicle to reassure the locals. “I’m sorry, I got attacked by a bunch of Mad Max rejects and had to switch to my secondary vehicle. Can anybody tell me where I can meet with the mayor?”

The local sheriff gingerly points in a certain direction. “That, that way, sir.”

“Much appreciated.” With a polite nod, Mark goes back into the tank and proceeds to slowly move towards the city hall.

Like the city entrance, the city hall starts to panic as they see the heavy war machine approach until the driver opens the door hatch and leaves the vehicle.

Mark waves his hand, trying to give everyone an air of friendliness. “Hello, my name is Mark Henderson and I am the Chef Engineer of Wube Inc. I wish to talk with the Mayor.”

A portly man walks out of the building, wearing a set of clothes typical of Western movies for a politician or a rich merchant merchant. “I am the mayor of this city, Mayor Tom, at your service, stranger.”

Mark decides to not question why most of the city looks like a Wild West movie and instead focuses on more important matters. “I am told that this city administers the rights for one of the Wyoming uranium mines?”

“Ah, caught some ‘uranium fever,’ eh?” The Mayor wiggles his eyebrows suggestively to Mark.

The Engineer feels slightly creeped out by the explicit gesture but forces himself to act naturally. “I have needs for the uranium, yes. I am thinking of building a nuclear reactor to supply my holdings with the necessary power, and to potentially sell it to other cities and regions.”

The mayor sighs, looking visibly tired. “I see, unfortunately, it isn’t as easy as just putting down a miner on the ground and extracting the green rocks, you know?”

Mark is surprised that the mayor heard of him when the man mentions ‘putting down a miner to extract minerals’ but he reasons that someone holding the administrative right for such a precious resource won’t be ignorant of the affairs in Night City. “Of course, I am here to negotiate on behalf of Wube Inc. for the mining rights. If there are other issues we need to work with first, I will be happy to listen and comply with the local laws.”

“Good, good, how about we enter my office for a sip of brandy so we can discuss business?”

Mark understands now. Nodding, Mark follows the portly man. “Of course, please lead the way.”

Inside the city hall, various people with official businesses go around their day, working for the mayor's office, making complaints, paying taxes, or selling cold drinks and kebabs on a portable grill. “Don’t eat the kebabs, old Pete takes them out from the wild, and you never know how much radiation they have.”

The Engineer's concern sharply increases when he sees some of the grilled meat have glowing pieces sticking out of the meat.  “Why are you even selling beer and kebabs inside the city hall?”

The mayor looks back at Mark with a joyous expression. “To sell to the tourists, of course!”

Realization hits Mark, finally understanding the theme of the city. “Ah, it makes sense now.”

The city buildings all appear similar to typical Western movie sets, with the local population wearing similar clothes to the period, and inside the building, they are selling overpriced alcohol and suspicious-looking meat. The city is a tourist trap for the rich and powerful. Eventually, the Mayor reaches his private office and the two enter.

Mark feels the temperature outside dropping significantly from the air conditioning in the corner of the room, and he spots the Mayor taking off his jacket, fake mustache, inner jacket, fake fat suit, trousers, and boots to reveal an attire close to the current era aesthetics. The real mayor wears a sharp grey suit, black social shoes, and a pair of designer prescription glasses.

“Now then, Mr. Mark, what can the Mayor's Office do for you?”

“As I said, I want to extract the uranium on your territory for my company, I was being honest when I said I want to generate energy and sell it to the local region and the Night City area.”

Tom walks around to his cabinet of liquor and takes out a bottle of Jack Daniels, offering it to Mark. “It might not be the best whisky from before the Old Country fall, but it is now a very rare vintage.”

Mark gratefully accepts the offered drink, pouring himself and the Mayor a cowboy shot, raising his glass for a toast. “To the success.”

The Mayor answers in kind. “To the future.”

When the two glasses clink together, several mercenaries burst out of every place inside the room. Doors open, windows break, hidden passages reveal new armored soldiers, and the inside becomes a pandemonium of screaming and bullets flying in the air.

Mark tsks in annoyance as various weapons hit his shield, but he reacts quickly while allowing the energy shield to do its job. With a mental command gun turrets materialize and they start shooting at the mercenaries.

Some of the soldiers try to shoot down the construction robots placing the weapons, but they lose track of the Engineer's movement for a second.

Mark doesn’t hesitate to punish them, shooting at the mercenaries with his shotgun at point-blank range and destroying the opposition with superior firepower.

Soon, the mercenaries are all dead on the ground while the mayor is hiding under his desk. “Is it over?”

Mark curtly answers the man. “Depends, are they yours?”

The mayo stands up sounding relieved. “Oh no, perish the thought. For starters, I don't have enough money to buy their contract, secondly, I am not stupid enough to order a hit and use myself as bait.”

The engineer admits that sounds stupid and lowers his weapon. “Do you recognize them?”

The mayor points to a patch on the mercenaries' uniform, “Officially, they’re Militech mercenaries paid by third parties with an issue against you, unofficially they’re NUSA soldiers preventing someone else other than the New Country from extracting the precious minerals in their former territory. Turns out countries are jealous of their nuclear power, one of the few leverages against corporations in this age.”

Mark wisely remains quiet about Wube Inc.’s arsenal. “I can see why countries would be nervous about corporations having mining rights of uranium. Now, other than this ‘concerned third party’ intruding in our negotiations, is there anything else I should worry about?”

The mayor looks around, making sure that no more surprises will jump him in the office. When he confirms that this team was the only attempt he appears surprised. “Strange, I almost thought Arasaka would be throwing their cyber ninjas by now.”

Mark can’t help but also look around, but he finds no hidden cyber ninja. “Honestly, I’m kind of disappointed now that you mentioned cyber ninjas. Let’s table that for another day then, and get back to that deal.”

The mayor nods in agreement. “Yes, let’s.”

The Engineer and Wube Inc. attend several other meetings with other concerned parties in the city, but eventually, the West Side City together with the Governship of Wyoming grants the mining rights of a large uranium mine to Wube Inc. for the pledge of selling energy to the Wyoming state for cheap, while Wube Inc. now has inroads for an electric distribution contract with the Free State.

Post Chapter notes

This is the first part of yesterday update.