Chapter 27: My Best Choom
"It's alright, not too bad. She initiated self-preservation protocols at the last second, good defenses. Once the malware's purged, she just needs some rest."
"Okay, now it's your turn. Yeah, you, big guy."
Viktor waved Maine over.
Maine grumbled but obediently walked over and settled into the indicated chair. His massive frame didn't quite fit, forcing Viktor to grab an extra stool for his legs.
"This arm needs replacing. The internal components are shot, can't be repaired. It'll be unstable, prone to jamming or misfiring. My recommendation is a full replacement," Viktor said, examining the mangled remains of Maine's limb.
"Got any recommendations?" Maine asked. He still had a decent stash of eddies—his savings, the payout from the last gig, and Janus's emergency fund. The fixer had dozens of high-value credchips hidden in his apartment, which Rhys had grabbed and split among the crew.
"Hmm... actually, yeah. Picked something up from the black market recently." Viktor rolled his chair over to a cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a massive metallic arm. He brought it back to Maine. "Take a look, scan the specs. In my opinion, it's a definite upgrade from what you've got."
Maine's optics glowed as he scanned the cyberarm. His jaw dropped, practically drooling.
"How much?"
"One hundred thirty-five thousand eddies. Price is firm. That's rock bottom; any lower and I'm losing money. And just so we're clear, this piece isn't part of the 'special service' deal. No IOUs," Viktor stated firmly.
"You're not worried we'll just take it off your hands? There's a whole crew of us here," Maine challenged, testing him.
Viktor just smiled calmly. "You wouldn't be the first. Had some Scavs try that once, strong-arming me into buying their shoddy black market chrome at inflated prices. My answer was this." He showed Maine his clenched fist.
A look of appreciation dawned on Maine's face, followed by a wide grin.
"Besides," Viktor continued, "any merc with half a brain knows that finding a good ripperdoc in Night City isn't easy. Or maybe you guys are the type without half a brain?"
Misty, standing nearby, tensed up and discreetly started making a call.
Maine burst out laughing. "Nah, we know the score! One thirty-five K, right? Sending it now!" His optics flashed blue.
A moment later, Viktor grunted in acknowledgment and picked up the projectile launch system. "Lie back, close your eyes. This'll be quick." He administered the anesthetic and called Misty over to assist.
Maine drifted into unconsciousness. Viktor laid out his tools—saws, drills, a whole array of intimidating implements. Installing heavy chrome was basically high-tech orthopedic surgery.
After a flurry of activity around the unconscious Maine, Viktor looked up at Rhys. "Give me a hand here. Lift him up so we can get the next one in."
Rhys stepped forward. Viktor was about to help him lift Maine, but stopped short as Rhys simply scooped the massive man up in a princess carry. The visual of the 'slender' Rhys effortlessly holding the bear-like Maine was so jarring that Viktor's jaw dropped.
"You're... strong." Viktor stared, then reached out and squeezed Rhys's bicep. "Hnngh... Hey, you ever thought about boxing?" he asked, his eyes suddenly bright with an excitement Rhys hadn't seen before.
"Viktor!" Misty warned from the side.
"Sorry, sorry. We can talk boxing later. Business first," Viktor chuckled, turning his attention to Rebecca. "Your turn, little lady. Come on over, let me take a look."
"Fuck you! Like hell I—" Rebecca flipped him the bird, but Dorio clamped a hand over her mouth before she could finish.
Viktor didn't react. He'd seen it all, dealt with life and death. A little verbal abuse wasn't going to faze him. Dorio dragged the struggling Rebecca over and forced her onto the operating table.
"Ow! Easy with the grip!"
Strapped down, Rebecca started thrashing. "Wait! Where's the anesthetic?! Why don't I get knocked out like Maine?!"
"It's just an optic replacement. Your injury isn't serious," Viktor said nonchalantly. He definitely wasn't getting petty revenge. Adults didn't do that to kids, right?
For the next few minutes, Rebecca's screams filled the basement clinic.
After Rebecca got her new eye, it was Pilar's turn.
By the time Viktor was done, sweat beaded on his forehead. Misty gently wiped his brow with a towel as he meticulously installed Pilar's replacement arm—a flashy red Gorilla Arm, Pilar's choice. He always did like loud colors.
Finally, it was over. The clinic floor was littered with groaning, recovering mercs. Even Dorio had gotten some minor work done. Only Rhys remained standing beside the seated ripperdoc.
"You don't need any work done?" Viktor asked, looking up at Rhys, his voice laced with fatigue. Operating on so many people back-to-back had taken its toll on his mostly organic body. Apart from the tech needed to interface with his tools, Vick was famously anti-chrome, especially for himself. As a former boxer, he detested the cybernetically enhanced monstrosities that dominated the sport now. He was a romantic traditionalist.
Rhys was about to ask Viktor about installing an optical camo system—the one he gives V in the game, the one that pixelates your face on camera feeds. It would save him the hassle of having Sasha constantly maintain his firewall.
But just as he opened his mouth, a figure burst tumbling into the clinic. He sprang up instantly, twin pistols leveled.
"Who the fuck is causing trouble?! Vick! Misty! You alright?!" he roared, his English thick with a Latino accent. He was built like a brick shithouse, dressed in an ostentatious black leather jacket, with a wild haircut and cybernetic lines tracing patterns on his rugged face.
"Oh... Jackie! I forgot to call you back. It's nothing, it was just a misunderstanding," Misty said quickly, looking apologetic. When Maine had made his 'threat,' she'd panicked and called Jackie. Then things had calmed down, Viktor had asked for her help, and with six patients needing attention, she'd completely forgotten.
"What? I hauled ass all the way over here!" The man, Jackie, looked momentarily stunned, then visibly relaxed, holstering his pistols. "Okay, okay. As long as you're good," he said with a booming laugh. "Thought some gonk was giving you and Vick trouble again."
He walked further into the clinic, his eyes widening at the sight of bodies littering the floor. "Damn, Vick! Business is booming today, huh?"
"Not bad. Cleared almost four hundred thousand eddies worth of chrome. They paid upfront, too," Viktor said, a rare smile touching his lips. It was clear the two were close.
"Holy shit! Four hundred K?! Vick, that's more eddies than I've seen in my entire life!" Jackie exclaimed dramatically. He turned to Rhys. "Hey, mano! You the good Samaritan who brought Vick all this business?"
"Name's Jackie Welles! Gonna be a legend in this city someday. You got a gig, you come to me!"
Rhys looked at the approaching powerhouse. He looked intimidating as hell, but Rhys felt an unexpected wave of warmth and familiarity.
"Nice to meet you, Jackie. I'm Rhys," he said, extending his hand.
Yeah, he thought. Nice to finally meet you.
My best choom from the game.