It was another job. High risk, high reward. A nomad clan needed protection for a convoy run through the Badlands. That was the job.
Starr's eyes flicked over the details Rogue had sent. The Aguirre clan, one of the smaller but more dangerous nomad groups, was transporting a highly valuable payload. They needed someone skilled in close-quarters combat and tactical strategy to defend it. The job didn't spell out exactly what they were hauling, but the price they were willing to pay told Starr it was something worth killing for.
Nomads didn't usually ask outsiders for help, especially not someone with a reputation like Starr's. But Rogue had vouched for her, which meant this gig was serious. And if Rogue trusted it, Starr knew the payout would be substantial.
Her mind raced. The convoy would be deep in the Badlands, far enough from Night City that it might buy her some time away from Militech's reach. Plus, with the threat of more Militech enforcers and corporate goons, she needed the money—and fast.
Byte's voice came through her comms again, cutting through the momentary silence. "What's Rogue sending your way?"
"A job," Starr replied, her voice steady. "Nomad convoy protection. Out in the Badlands."
There was a pause on Byte's end, and Starr could almost hear the concern in her silence. "That's risky. The Badlands are crawling with raiders, and if Militech's got eyes on you, they won't hesitate to follow you out there."
"Risk is part of the gig," Starr muttered, already gearing up mentally for the challenge ahead. "But I can handle it. Besides, getting out of Night City for a while isn't the worst idea."
Byte sighed softly, her worry palpable through the static. "Just… don't take unnecessary risks. I'll be monitoring the route, and I'll try to keep you off anyone's radar. But this sounds dangerous even by your standards."
Starr smiled faintly at Byte's words. "Dangerous is what I do best."
Scene: Meeting the Nomads
The trip out to the Badlands was long and uneventful, the dull roar of the Quadra's engine keeping Starr focused as she weaved through the desolate outskirts of Night City. The cityscape gradually gave way to the barren wasteland of the Badlands, a sprawling desert of cracked earth and crumbling ruins from a long-forgotten time. Rusted-out vehicles littered the side of the highway, reminders of what happened to those who ventured too far from the city's reach without a plan.
By the time she reached the Aguirre clan's rendezvous point, the sun was already sinking below the horizon, casting a blood-red glow across the sky. The nomads had set up camp just off the main highway, their convoy of heavily armored trucks parked in a rough circle, guarded by men and women covered in dirt and dust, their bodies adorned with a mixture of chrome and worn leather.
Starr pulled her Quadra to a stop and stepped out, her eyes scanning the scene. The nomads eyed her warily, but no one made a move as she approached. These people were used to fighting off raiders and scavengers, and it showed in the hardened looks they gave her. Trust would be in short supply here.
A man in his late forties, his face lined with age and battle scars, stepped forward. He wore a long, tattered coat over his armor, and his eyes gleamed with a calculating sharpness that Starr recognized immediately. This was a man who had seen too much, someone who didn't take chances lightly.
"You Starr Layne?" he asked, his voice rough and gravelly.
"That's me," Starr replied, keeping her voice neutral as she met his gaze. "Rogue said you needed protection."
The man nodded, his eyes flicking over her gear with a scrutinizing glance. "I'm Santiago, leader of the Aguirre clan. We've got a convoy to run across the Badlands. Dangerous cargo. Word is, you're the one to call if we want to make it in one piece."
Starr raised an eyebrow. "What kind of cargo are we talking about?"
Santiago's expression hardened, and he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. "The kind that could change the game for anyone who gets their hands on it. And that's all you need to know."
Starr didn't push. In her line of work, knowing too much was often more dangerous than knowing too little. She gave a curt nod. "Alright. What's the plan?"
Santiago motioned toward the convoy, the vehicles lined up and ready to roll. "We're heading to an old corporate outpost in the middle of the Badlands. It's off the grid, but that doesn't mean it's safe. Raiders have been hitting convoys like ours for months, and they're getting bolder. We'll have to move fast and hit hard if they show up."
Starr's eyes narrowed. "And what happens if Militech shows up?"
Santiago smirked grimly. "Then we make sure they don't leave."
Starr liked his style. Simple, to the point. She nodded once, then moved toward the convoy to get a feel for the vehicles and the people she'd be working with.
Scene: The Convoy
The convoy was made up of three heavily armored trucks, each one outfitted with turret guns and reinforced plating. The nomads who guarded them were a mix of old veterans and younger fighters eager to prove themselves. They didn't talk much, but Starr could see the way they handled their weapons—efficient, with the kind of cold precision that came from years of living on the edge.
She climbed into the lead truck, settling into the passenger seat next to a grizzled woman with a cybernetic arm and a cigarette dangling from her lips. The woman glanced at Starr but said nothing as she took a drag, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
The truck's engine rumbled to life, and Santiago's voice crackled over the radio. "Alright, people. We move out now. Stay sharp. We're expecting trouble."
The convoy began to roll forward, the trucks kicking up dust as they rumbled down the cracked highway, leaving the relative safety of their camp behind. The Badlands stretched out before them, a desolate wasteland where only the strongest survived.
Scene: Ambush in the Badlands
They had been driving for about an hour when the first sign of trouble appeared on the horizon.
"Byte," Starr whispered into her comms, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the distant shapes moving along the ridgeline. "You picking up anything?"
"I'm seeing it," Byte replied, her voice tense. "Looks like a group of raiders, about a dozen. They're moving in fast. Looks like an ambush."
Starr gritted her teeth. Raiders were a constant threat in the Badlands, but they didn't usually hit convoys this heavily armed. These ones, however, seemed organized.
"Raiders on the ridge!" Starr barked into the radio, her hand moving to the hilt of her blade. "Prepare for an attack!"
The convoy kicked into high gear as the trucks accelerated, the roar of their engines drowning out the growing tension. Starr could see the raiders now—dune buggies and motorcycles speeding down the ridge, their riders armed with makeshift weapons and chrome modifications that glinted in the fading light.
The first shots rang out, a burst of gunfire that peppered the side of the lead truck. Starr grabbed hold of the turret, swinging it around to return fire. The heavy-caliber rounds tore through the raiders' vehicles, sending two buggies spinning out of control in a fiery crash.
But there were more.
The second wave hit hard, a group of motorcycles swarming the convoy, their riders throwing makeshift explosives toward the trucks. One of the blasts hit the middle truck, causing it to swerve violently before the driver regained control.
"Dammit," Santiago growled over the radio. "We've got to hold them off!"
Starr didn't hesitate. She swung the turret around, her finger pressing down on the trigger as she unleashed a hail of bullets at the nearest riders. Two more motorcycles went down, their riders tumbling to the ground in a cloud of dust and blood.
But the raiders weren't backing off. They were getting closer, and Starr could see the glint of chrome beneath their tattered clothes, their cybernetic enhancements giving them an edge in both speed and strength.
One of the raiders leaped onto the back of the truck, his cybernetic arm whirring as he swung a machete toward Starr. She ducked just in time, drawing her blade in one fluid motion as she sliced across his chest, severing flesh and chrome in one clean strike. The raider fell, his body tumbling off the truck as it sped forward.
"We're not going to make it!" one of the younger nomads shouted over the radio, panic creeping into his voice. "There's too many of them!"
"Hold your position!" Santiago barked back. "We've survived worse!"
But even as he spoke, another explosion rocked the convoy, this time hitting the rear truck. The vehicle veered off the road, crashing into a ditch as fire and smoke billowed from its engine. Starr watched as the raiders descended on the wreckage, their laughter echoing across the wasteland as they moved in for the kill.