Mess With the Bull

[After dark - abandoned Union Railroad Station, Red Peaks, the Badlands]

The upside... if you could really call it that... to having a fortified Militech presence in the Badlands was that it gave the Aldecaldos something new to focus on... and more importantly, something new to do. Since the ghost town of Rocky Ridge found itself occupied some months prior, Panam had maintained a rotating presence at any one of several outposts overlooking the dump.

Militech knew they were being watched, but six nomads across two vantage points wasn't enough to cause any alarms. Unless ordered otherwise, both parties agreed in unspoken terms to simply stay out of each others' way. As far as Militech was concerned, they paid no heed to the eyes along the ridge watching their every move; as far as the nomads were concerned, they weren't scoffing at not having to worry about light and noise discipline after dark.

As it was, tonight was no different than any other night across every other week for the past two months... which in and of itself was a confusing clusterfuck any way one painted it. Two young nomads laughed to themselves around the flickering flames dancing into the clear night sky, the smoke and smell trailing upward as they nursed beers and traded jokes; whether about their outputs' cooking, Saul's wide nose, or Panam's wider ass... nothing was off limits. Several stories up in the decrepit radio tower, a third nomad tried to keep a straight face as he looked through the scope of a high-powered rifle aimed nowhere in particular, diligently scanning the interior of the Rocky Ridge encampment.

All appeared quiet on the that front, but something definitely had the hornets' nest stirred as the nomad muttered to himself, "...and just where the fuck are you going..."

He adjusted the sights on the scope for a clearer view as he watched several large bodies armed to the teeth moving in loose formation to one end of the camp. Though the distance was too great to catch any voices without traceable tech, it was clear they were barking orders at one another as they planted their feet and squared off.

It was altogether a strange sight, only surpassed by the sudden plume of orange light from the center of the—

Wait... what the fuck?!

The nomad was on his knees from a prone position in less than a second as he shouldered the rifle and chanced activating the low-light optics and infrared tracking before calling down to his chooms, "Heyo boys, prepare for inbound stream!"

Both of the other nomads' eyes lit up bright blue as they received the remote data inside their own heads. Whatever the watchman saw, they saw. And what he saw was nothing short of an all-out attack as multiple other plumes bedazzled the night sky from inside the fortified walls, distant booms following as the ground shook beneath their very feet.

The nomads silently counted their blessings at the possibility of Militech no longer occupying their backyard... until more explosions lit up less than half a klick to their southeast. And by their reckoning, there was only one place that far away worth taking...

All of the nomads froze in place, ice in their veins as they considered the worst before the most experienced of them pulled himself together and made the pertinent call, his voice shaking, "Hey boss! We got major shit going down. Explosions inside the encampment walls, but more explosions lighting up across I-9... ya think it—"

His eyes winced through a torrent of profanity feeding back inside his brain like nails on a chalkboard as he cleared his throat and answered, "Copy that... we're on the move... hope it ain't what we think."

All three nomads were on their feet and moving to regroup in under a minute, leaving their campsite by the wayside as they had more important matters to tend to. And all the while, the explosions continued as a swarm moved across the distant sands like locusts... and the faint sound of snarling screams carried, fleeting and fluttering in the cool air...

--

[Past midnight - Mother Base]

That any one of the crew could sleep, all things considered, was a miracle in and of itself. They had run themselves ragged to get this far, but they were still human at the end of it all. They still needed to rest, but a peaceful night's sleep likely wouldn't be had until Nel was back in their care, back in Jayce's loving embrace... back with her family, where she belonged.

Over the last three months, each of the crew had come to love the girl... and her quirks... in their own way. For Jackson, it was almost like having a second child, especially in the way Addie had taken to Jayce in the early days. He could only count his blessings that he had her all this time to help pick up behind him. For Bison, he felt as though he had another little sister for which he could impart all of his wisdom for shit that went boom. Doc Strong was just glad to see their little albatross in better health and spirits than when they first found her. And for Jayce... Nel was her partner and lover... another one for whom she would see the world burn.

Here and now, all of them were lost without her, as if a piece of them were missing. Jackson carried this burden most of all, feeling like he failed the girl and his crew. And so despite the rest earned and afforded by all of the crew after having found Charles Bishop and extracted the truth from him, Jackson likely wouldn't close his eyes until his little albatross was safe and sound... until everyone else involved in her kidnapping was dead and buried.

For the moment, he tried to find some rest lying in his own bed, eyes open and affixed overhead, watching the blades of a ceiling fan spin around and around. There was a subtle irony in the matching speed of the circles he was running inside his own mind... and he wasn't alone. Addie was wrapped tightly around him, her head against his chest and listening intently to his heartbeat as she tried in vain to fall asleep. She couldn't help but notice the quickening pace lightly thumping in Jackson's chest as she said softly, "We'll get her back, Jax... you know we will."

He said nothing swallowing a knot in his throat as she continued, "We have the what and the why... and a pretty solid idea as to the where, too..."

"Now comes the how...", Jackson finally broke his silence, bringing his left hand to stroke his brow with a deep sigh as he closed his right arm tighter around Addie, "I jus' hope we're not too late..."

"She's a fighter... a survivor...", Addie reassured him, "And as for the how... I know you well enough to know you'll go to Hell and back for any one of us... 's why I love you."

Love..., a dangerous thing to have in this line of work, but Jackson smiled as he brought his hand down to run through Addie's hair as he answered in kind with a sigh, "I... love you too."

Addie had a keen nose for bullshit, and if she thought for a moment that Jackson was just placating her... but there was enough trepidation in his voice that she knew he was being genuine, and she turned her head to lightly kiss his chest before her eyes cut to his and she said, "...and with our friends, I like our chances at kickin' down the front doors."

Even if Addie didn't have a majestic bird to carry her through the skies, there was some comfort to be had in knowing she'd pick up a rifle and throw down in the dirt with them all the same. Jackson stroked her cheek gently before a call rang in his head, his eyes flashing orange as he grumbled under his breath. Now of all times, he wasn't in the mood, and he tried to curtail the bite as he answered, "Somethin' better be on fire, kid..."

There were a few seconds of silence followed by soft whimpers and shuddering breath. Jackson pushed himself up, resting against the headboard as he tried another tack while Addie looked on with a curious concern in her eyes, "Panam... talk t'me, kid... what's wrong?"

Panam's voice faltered as she tried to force the words through stifled tears, "Jackson... I-I'm so sorry... Dakota's... s-she's—"

"She's what?!", the old cowboy pressed his friend of many years before the door to his room flew open, Bison and Strong forcing themselves through, armed to the teeth and without so much as a knock or an apology as the former cried out, "Hoss! We got'a delta! Shit just hit the fan at Rocky Ridge!"

It had to be connected... all of it. Jackson's eyes went wide as he called back to Panam, "Stay there... we're on our way..."

--

[I-9 Interchange, the Badlands]

Were it not for the gravity of present circumstances, everyone's hair would have likely turned stark white with the way Jackson barreled through the sand dunes and back to 'civilization'... or at least as close as one could get on this side of the I-9. What should have been at least an hour-long trip barely took thirty minutes as he expertly navigated every known shortcut he could recall, including the unfinished bypass tunnel once held by some particularly nasty Raffen Shiv; thankfully, Panam had evicted those cockroaches a long time ago... with the help of a young streetkid merc, as the legend told.

Nobody really knew what they were getting themselves into. It was twice in two months that Jackson had seen... or heard... this side of Panam. Something had her shaken to the core, and were the old cowboy a betting man, it had something to do with the eerie orange pall they saw faintly over the horizon on their way into the tunnel. And as they exited, the grim reality of the situation smacked them all in the face... Rocky Ridge was razed to the ground in its entirety, infernos raging against the dead dark of night.

It wasn't even a week since Jackson crossed the threshold to rescue Jayce from that place, and now it was gone... the entire town a distant memory burning to ash. In his own mind, he couldn't get help but go to a dark place wondering what might have happened had she gotten caught in the mix of whatever this was; it wasn't likely, given the timing... this had to be related to their taking of Charles Bishop. But how the fuck did they know?

Dakota was nothing if not cautious. Doc Strong had confirmed as soon as they arrived that any signals in or out were stopped dead in their tracks. Anything not on a direct hard line was trapped inside the building until the block was lifted. So then how the fuck did these bastards know? It had to have been after the hand-off to Militech, Jackson reasoned to himself. It was the only thing that made sense. Once Charles and Serena Bishop were in their care, it was out of sight and out of mind for the crew...

The remains of Rocky Ridge were in the rear-view by now, nearly a mile down the road as the crew came upon another horrifying site... whatever hit the Militech encampment didn't stop there. DaKota's Garage, a once proud nomad landmark along the I-9, was now little more than a pile of rubble, smoke wafting out of the multiple large holes blasted in the walls as the unfortunate survivors hurried to put out the remaining fires. There was no mistaking it... the entire place had been blown to Hell and back, and everyone's guts sank as Jackson pulled off to the side of the highway.

His narrowed eyes were locked on the scene, his chest heaving with every deep breath as he fought to remain calm. The fire burning inside of him rivaled any they had seen on the drive in, and now that they were here, there wasn't much keeping him from jumping out of his skin as he stepped down from the driver's seat of the truck to survey it all. He stood with his hands on his hips, waves of heat washing past him with the blowing sands as each of the crew exited the truck and took their places next to him.

In this moment, it became clear to all of them... there were no survivors from this... any live bodies they saw toiling away had to have arrived after it was already done. This was only confirmed as they picked out Panam from the crowd struggling to navigate the piles of broken concrete and steel as she gave orders and got her hands dirty with all the rest.

All of the crew stood in shock, their eyes wide and mouths agape as they breathed the hot air and tried to make any sense of it. There were no words for what they saw or what had happened here. Addie was the first to break, her hand covering her trembling lips as tears formed. While she didn't get as much face time with the old lady as all the rest, she probably held the most respect out of everyone present. Dakota Smith wasn't just a fixer to Addie... she was a second chance; a chance to live again, free of anyone's hold. Were it not for her, all those years ago... Addie couldn't even bear the thought as she flashed back in her own mind...

[2069 - Somewhere over No Man's Land]

The once clear and blue skies over the sunny South Californian town of Ridgecrest had been all but tainted with the smog of war, pollution from massive machines on the ground or jetwash in the air littering everything in a pale brown haze. Heavy weaponry thundered all across the land as visible clouds of exploding ordnance riddled the sky with death while mechanical angels in the air tried in vain to navigate through it all. From this altitude, it was nigh impossible to believe the pockmarked and ruined landscape below ever knew peace, and yet somewhere amid the chaos was an overwhelming sense of serenity as metal wings soared overhead...

"And just what the fuck do you think you're doing with my bird, Chief Allen?!"

FACK OFF, YE CUNT!..., the thought rang loud and clear in a much younger Adelaide Allen's head, though she'd never actually utter the words to her commanding officer... especially over a hot mic. Even so, this bird had more of her blood, sweat, and tears running through its innards than anyone else's. Instead, she ignored the altitude and proximity alarms blaring in her head as she returned fire in the most tactful and respectful way she could manage, given the circumstances, "Making sure we ain't losing anyone else out here... stay off this channel, Colonel, it's hairy enough as is!"

Before her superior could get another syllable across the net, Addie had already switched over the frequency to a local wide-band for all of the AVs still in the air as she barked what might be her last orders to her beloved squadron, "Line up on me, y'hear?! Use my strafing as cover to peel back and retreat!"

All at once, a cacophony of voices spoke up, all asking the same thing in their own way... just what the fuck was Addie playing at?! She could have probably asked herself the same question, but all that she knew in this moment was she hadn't yet lost a single AV under her command since this God-forsaken war broke out... and she wasn't about to start now. Even if it took going down in flames as she rammed her own AV right up the enemy's ass, she would be DAMNED sure all of her boys made it back in one piece.

And so it was, Addie ripped the interface cords free from her head, making her peace with all of it and switching to full manual controls as she tried to vector her engine's nozzles into a sideways strafe. If today was her day to die, she'd proudly do so on her own terms if it meant nobody else had to perish in her stead. With one last deep breath, she firmed her grip on the side-mounted control stick, her finger twitching over the bright red trigger as she carefully positioned the nose of her craft with the fore-mounted cannons angled down.

With a flash of her pearly white teeth, she narrowed her eyes and lined up the ground targets in her sights as she gently squeezed the trigger, the barrels on either side of her canopy spinning to life. All at once, she felt the recoil through her entire body as her beloved aerodyne jerked aft, and with a quick nudge of the stick forward, she gave just enough thrust to counteract the force as she moved side to side. The ground beneath her opened up as clouds of sand churned in the wake of her bullets piercing the earth... and anything else in her way. She could almost make out the plumes of red and black lost in all of it as man and machine alike were vaporized before her very eyes. Her heart sank for the loss of life, albeit briefly. This was war... and she had a job to do.

At last, all of her squadron gave the all-clear... they were pulled back and out of the danger zone, leaving Addie to fend for herself just as she had ordered. With nothing else to occupy her mind, she finally noticed the heavy bombardment from the ground, bursting shells fragmenting in mid-air and pelting the fuselage from all directions. The aircraft bucked and shimmied from the impacts like a wild bronco, alarms sounding inside the cockpit as Addie counted her few remaining options. She was already down one thruster, the entire ass of her AV listing to one side as she tried to compensate.

With a quick jerk of the control stick and a slam of the throttle forward, Addie swung herself around, showing her damaged ass to everyone watching as she made a last-ditch effort to retreat in the same direction as the rest of her comrades. Whether or not she actually got away was moot at this point... she just wanted to piss off whoever was left on the ground.

As she accelerated forward, dropping her altitude and trying to get enough momentum to pick up speed, yet another alarm sounded throughout the cabin... three alarms in fact; she had been painted by missile lock. Within a few seconds, the warnings became shrieking confirmations as her LIDAR showed fast inbound from three different vectors. The missiles were in the air, screaming toward her at breakneck speeds. With one dead thruster and another on its way, she knew she didn't have much chance of escaping... but all of it be damned if the blonde, brash, and ballsy blunder from down under didn't give these motherfuckers one hell of a show on her way out.

Addie smiled to herself as she locked in, swooping low to the ground before slamming the throttle forward again and jerking the control stick back. She felt the g-force pressing her back into the seat like someone was standing on her chest as she turned toward the sky, the midday sun nearly blinding her even through her shielded visor. She pushed as hard as she could, feeling like she was still dragging ass from the rear as the alarms got louder with the closing distance of impending doom.

She shut her eyes as time slowed, the alarms fading into the background. Suddenly, there was no noise, no panic, no chaos... there was just Addie, soaring through the air and spreading her wings as she took a deep breath.

And then there was nothing... cold, silent black...

--

[Some time later...]

A dull and distant rumble sounded from somewhere far away, the ground shaking as metal and glass creaked and strained all around. Everything was a blur... and everything hurt. Was this Hell? No... Chief Warrant Officer Adelaide Allen wasn't that lucky, and she knew it.

Her eyes opened slowly, a low groan escaping as her ears rang. It was enough to drive her mad, but she had no strength to try and shake it loose. She felt the straps of her harness cutting into her as she pulled forward. By her hazy reckoning, she had landed nose first, the harness being the only thing keeping her from smacking her face against the shattered canopy.

A light breeze swept through, carrying grains of sand with it as she tasted the grit between her teeth. It choked her lungs, forcing a slight cough as she tried to breathe, slowly, in and out. There was a warm trickle running down her head, a taste of iron and copper finding its way into her mouth... she was bleeding.

Nothing made any sense, and her senses were dulled as everything faded into the background. Her eyes forced themselves shut as she tried to hang on. With what little she could recognize through slitted eyelids, she saw a pair of hands reaching in. The harness was cut free, the relief of the pressure against her bosom all too welcome as the hands carefully navigated around her, never lingering too long in one place. She was being moved... pulled out of the cockpit. Someone was freeing her from this cage of death and destruction... and she could have kissed her bastard savior in that moment.

Gently, she was laid down in the compacted sand and leaned against what remained of her aircraft. The ruined metal frame baking in the afternoon sun felt hot against her back, irradiating through her flight suit as it warmed her body. Again, she saw those same hands... entirely 'ganic, calloused, and worn... working diligently to check her vitals and make sure all was in its proper place. Her head pulled forward, her body shifting to follow before one of the hands caught her and held her up. Despite the scratch of a rough palm against her cheek, the hand was gentler than she expected. Her head fell back, her eyes looking up to a young but grizzled face with narrowed eyes searching desperately for signs of life. He felt distantly familiar to her, but she couldn't place his face. His uniform gave him away, the chevrons and rockers on his sleeve indicating a rank of First Sergeant. A slight panic ran through her mind, although she had no strength to do anything about it. This had to be the enemy... and what a handsome bloke the enemy turned out to be...

Little by little, Addie's senses returned one by one. The sounds of the wind whistling and a low voice serenaded her ears as she felt the tips of her fingers tingling. She smelled smoke... something burning... and her eyes locked on to a lit cigarette hanging from the man's mouth as sweat ran down the neatly shaved sides of his head. With what little returning strength she had, she tried to muscle out, "W-Where a-am I...?"

The man sighed deep with relief, leaning back for a moment as he exhaled smoke from his nostrils and looked elsewhere. He pulled his hands away, the fingers on his right twirling a small gold band around the ring finger on his left as he spoke to someone else, not her, "Well, if looks could kill, Doc... I'd reckon 'is one 'd be linin' up bodies from here to Barstow..."

A large figure with a dark complexion stepped into view, taking a knee next to the man tending to Addie as he scanned up and down. Despite the hardness in his face, his flashing blue eyes were kind, and he chuckled as he confirmed what the first man was trying to say in a most underhanded way, "Yeah... she'll live... as long as she gets the fuck away from here. And soon. We need to delta, Top."

The first man turned back to look in Addie's eyes as he followed up, "Y'hear that, darlin'? ...major hate rollin' 'is way..."

"I-I... I know you...", Addie spoke weakly, to which the man smirked and remarked, "Yeah... I'd imagine 'ere's likely more 'an a few posters of my mug decoratin' y'alls walls. Last bunch o' your friends we ran into had 'em up for target practice."

At that comment, Addie reacted just enough as she connected the dots in her mind. She had seen his face before, plastered all over the 'wanted wall' back at the base. His name escaped her, but she panicked all the same as she tried to suddenly jerk away. Despite her injuries and severe exhaustion, she brought her arms up to protect herself, fighting against the man's efforts to reassure that she wasn't in any danger. No matter their differing sides, the sergeant and his medic were only here to help a young pilot in need before someone less hospitable discovered the crash.

There was no doubt in the man's mind that he could overpower Addie in her present position if it came down to it, but that wasn't his game. With every jerk, he could feel her strength waning, and he tried to gently curtail the struggle. Before long, she could barely lift her arms, her entire body succumbing to exhaustion as she passed out. Her body slumped to the side before the man caught her, carefully cradling her in his arms as he admired her tenacity and strength in light of everything she had been through. He gently swept a bang of her wildly untamed hair from her otherwise beautiful and delicate face before checking for a pulse. With a deep sigh of relief, he exhaled the last bit of smoke from his spent cigarette, tossing it away as he looked to the medic standing tall beside him. They had to get her away from here, and soon...

--

[After dark... - Location unknown]

The roar of a large fire rumbled all around, a medley of voices around it laughing and carrying on with each other as utensils crashed against metal tins. The smell of smoke and timber carried through the air laced with sand blowing in the evening breeze, but none of it found its way here.

Addie's eyes opened slowly, blinking several times before things came into focus. She was horizontal, laying on her side on a small cot... and her hands were shackled. She quickly jerked herself awake with a sharp inhale as she tried to sit up and gain her bearings, her head pounding as she stifled a cry and fell back down. She brought her hands up to try and massage her temples before noticing something that wasn't there before... two small adhesive strips were precariously placed along the side of her forehead. She remembered tasting blood when she was hanging in the cockpit, the harness cutting into her body in the worst way. Now all she tasted was dirt, her eyes focusing through her fingers on the heavy canvas tent in front of her.

She was startled by another bellow of voices passing by, a shiver running down her spine as she curled into herself and wondered where the fuck she was, and what the fuck would happen to her. Everything from before was hazy, but she clearly remembered that face... that handsome bloke's rugged face...

"Was wonderin' when you'd come to...", called the suddenly familiar husky voice, causing her to cry out and jump ever so slightly. She was met with a chuckle as she tried to carefully turn. All of her was stiff, and she resorted to shuffling her whole body as she rolled over to her opposite side, propping one elbow up as she stared indignantly at the handsome bastard flashing his teeth and sipping hot coffee from a worn metal cup. He had that awful damned smirk plastered on his face, and she wanted nothing more than to smack him as she spoke weakly, "I-I remember you, now... t-the Butcher..."

The man's eyes narrowed as he stared right back, bringing the cup to his mouth before taking a loud sip. He spat a mouthful of grounds into the sand as Addie continued, "Do with me what you will... I've nothin' to say to you lot."

"Right now, I'm jus' the fella keepin' watch o'er ya...", the man's low voice grumbled, "...making sure 'ese boys don't step out'a line. For what 's worth, you're safe here... for the moment."

Addie reacted with curiosity at the man's choice of words as he explained, "You's a hell of a pilot... never seen someone so committed... big ol' Mama Bird lookin' after her own."

"Y-You saw all that?", she asked as her eyes softened at the jovial demeanor and cadence of her host. A warm half-smile formed on his face as he nodded, "Pretty penny for the pretty lady says you's in for an ass-tearin' when you get back..."

She scoffed at the notion, her head crashing against a rolled-up blanket serving as a pillow as she tried not to think about it. She made her decision, and she had to believe that, because of her choice, the rest of her squadron was alive and we—

"We was watchin' from the western ridge...", the man interrupted her train of thought, seemingly reading her mind, "...every other bird in the sky made it out safe... shit 's a shame you're on the wrong side of it all. You can fly, darlin'..."

"And when you saw me crash...", Addie mused out loud, "...what's your play? You goin' to string me up and squeeze me for all I know?"

There was that damned smile again, the man laughing as he looked away for a moment before his eyes met the ground, "Despite what Militech's screamsheets say 'bout me, and as much 's I'd like to hand you off to my superiors in exchange for a medal... somethin' in your eyes tells me all I need'a know... y'ain't got no love for the corp..."

The man continued, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag, "Hell, they ain't even sent a patrol lookin' for ya. Likely 'ey's already chalked you up for dead... which gives you a choice, don' it?"

"What, ya think I'll turn coat and fire on my own...?", Addie asked with a bite in her voice, "...I'm no traitor..."

"No, you are not...", the man mused, "...but your heart ain't in 's war, either... Hell, none of us wan'a be here, if we's really bein' honest wit' ourselves."

He took another small drag before extending an olive branch... in his own way... as he reached out with the lit cigarette, the filter end facing Addie. She masked a soft chuckle and a smirk as she leaned forward, grabbing the filter between her lips before pulling back. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and she knew then and there...

She took a short drag, followed by a cough as the smoke forced its way out of her lungs. Trying to hide an embarrassed flush in her cheeks, she quickly recovered, turning onto her back as she brought her shackled hands up and held the cigarette between two slender fingers. The man's eyes flashed blue for an instant, the shackles releasing as he spoke again, "Ain't no need for those... I think we're past any hostilities..."

Addie raised an eyebrow as she took another drag, releasing the smoke through her nostrils, "I wouldn't be so sure... cowboy... I still got some fight left in me."

"Yeah, I'll bet ya do...", the man laughed, once again twirling the ring on his finger, "...but I'd wager we understand each other now."

A small reflection of light from the gold band caught Addie's eyes, and despite her present childish infatuation with the bastard savior, her heart sank for reasons she didn't want to admit. Still, she couldn't argue with any particular point made thus far. There was a longing in the man's face. He longed for his wife... or husband... it didn't really matter. Addie could see his weakness plain as day.

While she had never been one for idle gossip, she also had no reason until now to question the intel given to her and her comrades as to who they were fighting. Here and now, it was hard to believe this cowboy with a heart of gold was the cold-blooded murderer the corp made him out to be.

"Like I said, you're safe here...", he drove the point home as he stood up, "...I give you my word, long 's I'm breathin'..."

He turned to leave before Addie let her rising emotions get the better of her as she asked, "Hey... what is your name...?"

The man stood with his back to her, turning just enough to speak clearly, "Calloway... Jackson Calloway..."

Jax... strong name for a strong bloke, Addie thought to herself as she blushed again, Jackson's words trailing off as he left the tent, "Doc'll be along soon with some food and to check up on ya... 'is name's Joshua. Don't let 'is size scare ya, he's sweet as can be..."

The heavy canvas flap fell back into place, shutting Addie away from the goings-on of the encampment as she sighed deep with relief. She didn't know what came next, but she took the good sergeant at his word that she was safe here, despite a light tremble in her freed hands telling her otherwise. She brought the cigarette back to her lips with every intent to take another drag, but just as soon as the trailing smoke wafted into her face did her arms collapse to her side... the cigarette doused itself in the sand as Addie fell fast asleep, her body still and all of her numb to everything around.

When former Chief Warrant Officer Adelaide Allen next awoke, she was no longer in the encampment. Instead, she found herself laid out on a stretcher in a nearby refugee camp and hooked up to a myriad of IVs. All that anyone would tell her was that they found her near-dead in the desert, suffering from heat stroke and severe dehydration...

Of course, that didn't explain the two strips holding together the gash in her forehead... older than any bandages she received here... but she honestly started to wonder had she not just hallucinated the entire affair after her crash-landing. What never made any sense through all of it was being stripped of her Militech flight suit and any other identifying items... including her dog tags. While it was hard to hide the implanted AV control interface in the shaved side of her head, nobody out here was asking too many questions... and those who did were quickly shunned and turned away. The War had no place in this haven of healing.

After she was discharged and turned loose, she had next to nothing, and nowhere to go. She certainly wasn't marching back to her corpo masters... but then what was a young Australian woman still 'fresh off the boat' to do with herself in a land torn in two by a war that should never have happened? Obviously, earn enough scratch to drink herself silly... and find the means to earn more scratch and keep it that way.

Brief as the Battle of Ridgecrest was, the ripples of the War at large were felt far and wide. A capable pilot with combat experience was a valuable commodity, and it commanded a preem payout. Addie had no shortage of work or eddies, flying as an independent contractor. She was responsible for air-dropping supplies into the war-torn areas, and ferrying refugees out. It didn't matter to her whether it was for the relief efforts, the smaller corporations, or even the local salvage crews... if the pay was on-par, Addie was 'your lass', and she was as fast, deadly, and dangerous as she was beautiful.

As the war dragged on and the truth about Militech's involvement in NUSA affairs came to light, Addie hated herself more and more for ever having towed that line. She punished herself by building a reputation; by day, she was the wildest pilot in the West... by night, she was the loosest lush in whichever watering hole would have her as a guest until they got sick of her shit and threw her out. Faces came and went, little more than flashes of light in the night between the blackouts. Fast and loose was the game, no name staying with her more than a day or two at most... attachment only held her back.

Finally, she found herself at the end of her rope. She had burned enough bridges to make it as far as the eastern reaches of Night City, but her reputation preceded her. Nobody needed a slack-jawed drunk, pretty as she was, flying into the side of a megabuilding on a whim. And so she found herself shacked up in a shitty motel along the I-9 with surprisingly clean rooms, burning through what little scratch remained as she considered the next chapter of her life... what the fuck was she supposed to do now...?

[2077 - Sunset Motel, Red Peaks, the Badlands]

"Oi! Ya handsome prick! Pour me another...!", Addie shouted, her empty glass crashing against the bar top as she slumped forward, nearly catching herself from falling flat on her face for the third time... that particular day. The man behind the bar rolled his eyes as he looked up, praying to a God he didn't believe in that he be freed of this torment. Eddies were eddies at the end of the day, but his current guest had grown a little too comfortable over the past two weeks. From sun-up to sun-down, she was plastered to the bar, and plastered herself with glass after glass... bottle after bottle... of the cheapest beer and whiskey she could get her hands on.

The Sunset wasn't known for its class or the caliber of its patrons, but a young woman brazenly making a fool of herself every day was a cause for concern... even if only for the target she painted on her own back with the local color. For the last hour, a group of four bikers kept to themselves in a dark corner of the establishment, their eyes locked on the young and beautiful, albeit boisterous and brash, Aussie fly-girl. They nursed their drinks sparingly, waiting for the right moment to introduce themselves.

The bartender turned and walked slowly to where Addie was leaning against the bar, her head seemingly stuck in the crook of her arm as she muttered something unintelligible and held up her glass before dropping it against the counter. The second heavy crash in less than a minute drew the attention of everyone present as the bartender carefully pulled the glass down and quietly cautioned his guest, "Thinkin' maybe you've had enough for now... why don't ya go sleep it off in your room and try again after dark?"

The clock read only 14:39 as Addie lazily walked her fingers along the smooth finish of the bar before reaching forward with a jerk. In an instant, she had the bartender by the collar as she pulled him close and met him at eye-level. Her warm and boozy breath washed against him as she seductively countered, "And why don't you pour. me. another. drink... and then eat me from the back!"

She released the man as he staggered back, nearly intoxicated all on his own from the vapors reeking out of every pore. The girl was in a bad way, but she didn't stop her tirade as she forced herself to stand up straight. She turned and stumbled away from the bar as she called out with a heavy slur to anyone within earshot, "What's a lass like me got'a do for a good drink and a fuck around here?!"

The bikers took that as their cue and stood up from their corner booth all at once. They stepped carefully and deliberately into view as the leader took his chance and looked Addie up and down before speaking, "Pretty little thing like you ought'a be more careful of putting herself out like that... might just find the trouble you're lookin' for..."

The other three bikers positioned themselves advantageously around Addie, surrounding her on all sides as they laughed and cracked their knuckles. All appearances told of a good fight about to take place, and if Addie weren't careful, she'd get more than she bargained for. Nonetheless, she flashed her teeth with a wicked smile as she took a stance and answered, "Why don't ya put your money where your mouth is...?"

The lead biker advertised a strike as Addie clumsily moved to counter. He stopped short as the man on her right took his open shot and instead shoved her against the man on her left. Before she knew what happened, she was wrapped up in two large and muscular arms holding her in place. She fought against him, trying to move her arms every which way, but she had no room to maneuver. She was helpless, exposed and vulnerable as the lead biker took a step forward and planted a solid cross against her jaw.

She fell to the floor, crying out as a wad of spit flew from her mouth. Her breathing ragged, she slowly recovered her faculties and lashed out, kicking her leg behind. She caught a lucky break, the sole of her boot crashing against one of the biker's knees as he shouted and collapsed. There were still three other gonks to deal with, and she found herself quickly overwhelmed as one of them grabbed her by the roots of her thick ponytail and dragged her toward the bar.

To add injury to injury, another biker gave a solid kick to her stomach, the churn causing her to expel all of the hard-earned hooch in her system as they picked her up and threw her against the bar counter. She grabbed for an empty bottle, swinging her barm back. She had no such luck this time around. Her arm was caught and forced down as one of the bikers pressed all his weight against her, pinning her in place as the edge of the counter pressed into her ribs. He kicked her feet out to spread her legs as the second and third bikers pulled her arms out and away. The first biker went to work, feeling all over her from behind with one hand as he tried to pull her pants down with the other. He breathed in her stink with a devilish laugh in her ear as she fought the tears welling and tried in vain to get free. The man pulled her shirt free from her pants, shoving his hand underneath and pressing against the warm skin of her toned stomach as he slowly worked his way up and growled at her, "We love us a wild bitch!"

With a sudden jerking motion and a masculine cry, Addie no longer felt the pressure against her backside, a rush of air passing as she turned to see the one biker flying back against a wall. Just as quickly as he was gone were the other two gonks pulled away. Through her own intoxicated haze and everything else happening, her legs buckled and her already-bruised cheek crashed against the bar before she found herself lying on the dirty floor. There were several pairs of boots moving quickly past her line of sight, grunts and shouts and landing blows echoing in her ears before the two remaining bikers were on the floor, weapons drawn and pressed into their faces.

Addie tried to move her head to see what was happening, and who had come to her rescue, but the entire ordeal left her drained as her eyes forced themselves shut. Before she could see anything, she blacked out, dead to the world around her.

--

[Some time later...]

Everything hurt... the dull throb of the oncoming hangover piercing Addie's temples as her eyes fluttered. A ray of the setting sun broke in through the slitted shutters over the window... and as chance would have it, it shone right into her eyes as she moved her hand up to shield herself with a groan. The pillow was stuck to her face with drool, her hair matted in between, and her gut still ached, no doubt with a bruise in the shape of a boot print having fully formed. She brought her knees into her chest with a light whimper of pain before an older female voice called out to her from the shadows, "Tell ya what, sister... you've got a nose for trouble..."

Addie jumped up in the bed, a sharp pain shooting throughout her body as she cried out and fell forward. There was a soft chuckle from the older woman as she leaned forward, the light catching her worn face as she joked, "Had a rough day?"

"F-Fuck you...", Addie spat weakly with a still noticeable slur as she slowly looked up, staring daggers at the older woman, "W-Who are you...?"

"Someone who knows all too well what a fall from grace looks like...", the woman answered nonchalantly, "...but seeing as that's a mouthful, you can call me 'Dakota'."

Addie had heard that name several times during her brief stay at the Sunset, referring to the wise and weathered fixer who ran... everything... in the Badlands outside of Night City. A widely feared and respected woman... so what the fuck could she possibility want from a washed-up pilot with a big mouth and a bigger drinking problem?

Dakota seemingly read her mind as she sat on the edge of the couch in front of the window and clasped her hands together across her knees with a sigh, "You want to fly again... and from what Noah tells me, sounds like nobody wants you."

"So what...", Addie barked defensively and rubbed her eyes, "...y'here to pour salt in the wound?"

Dakota smirked, the light catching her eyes and making them almost glow as she held her tongue and cut to the side... to a man standing in the shadows of the far corner. It was at that moment Addie picked up the faint and familiar smell of fresh tobacco smoke trailing up and through the room, the glowing ember of a lit cigarette hanging. The man pulled the cigarette from his mouth as he walked forward into the light. Addie's eyes widened as she looked the man up and down, dressed like a tried and true cowboy... though she recognized his face from a fever dream long ago in a far away desert, she didn't remember one whole side of him as cold chrome. That damned charming smile returned as he reached out with his chromed left hand... and held in his open palm was a pair of dog tags dangling between his fingers as he spoke softly, "Been a long time, darlin'... y'ever make it to Barstow...?"

--