The Bazaar buzzed with a frenzy of people lit by a flurry of neon lights, its maze-like alleys teeming with shady merchants peddling everything from bootleg tech to whispered promises of shady side hustles. The air hung heavy with tension, the kind you could almost slice through with a knife, as hawkers advertised their goods in a cacophony that made the place extremely lively.
"Fresh Dream Nexus shards! Hot off the Pinnacle, guaranteed boost!"
"Paradise in a pill! Just one hit, and you'll never wanna leave!"
"Touch my stash again, and I'll carve you up for the scrappers!"
Merchants advertised and argued amongst each other.
Jarek shoved his way through the crowd, his hood pulled low, a shadow among shadows. He barely registered the chaos around him, bits and pieces of arguments, laughter, and desperate haggling rising and falling like tides in his ears. His focus was locked on the dimly lit alley ahead, where Tek, his contact, waited like a spider at the center of its web.
Tek was perched casually on a battered crate, a wily figure draped in a coat stitched together from a dozen different materials. If Erethis had an underbelly, Tek was its pulse, a fixer who thrived on the desperation of others. He grinned as Jarek approached, though the smile stopped short of his eyes. One could tell from a mile away that this guy was not trustworthy.
"Vayne," Tek drawled, his voice carrying the kind of smooth charm that made you check your pockets. "I heard you took down Cy-Klone in the Pit last night. Impressive stuff. Real crowd-pleaser." aren't you?
Jarek didn't break stride. "Save it. What's the job?" he said, arms crossed, voice flat as steel.
Tek chuckled, lighting up a cigarette that smelled like burnt plastic. "Straight to the point, as always, I see. D'you ever think about relaxing? Maybe enjoying life a little?" he asked knowing perfectly well the kind of situation Jarek was in.
"Relaxing doesn't pay the bills you know? Talk." Jarek shot back.
With a shrug, Tek leaned forward, his tone dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Its a big one this time. Upper City gig. Tight security, cutting-edge tech. Pull this off, and you and your little sister are set for life." he tried to entice Jarek.
Jarek raised a brow. "What's the target?" he asked.
Tek's grin widened, his cigarette dangling precariously on his lips. "Experimental tech. Dream cultivation something the Cabal would kill to keep quiet. I don't know the details, but the payout? Fifty grand."
Jarek frowned. "Fifty? For an Upper City job? Either you're lying, or this gig's a deathtrap."
"I thought you said I'd be set for life after the gig" Jarek said, disappointment oozing from his words.
"Hey," Tek said, disdain dripping from his words, "fifty large ain't chump change down here buddy. Besides, if you pull this off, and there's more work in it for you."
Jarek exhaled sharply, his frustration simmering. But Lira's face flashed in his mind, her hollow cheeks, the quiet strength in her gaze despite the odds flickering in his mind.
"Details," he said finally.
Tek tapped on a datapad, pulling up a hologram of the facility. Its sleek, sterile lines looked magnificent a far cry from the Shatterzone a city built on scraps. "Top floor. Minimal staff, a couple of guards. Automated defenses tied directly to the Dreamspire network. Screw up, and the Cabal will be on you faster than you can say bad idea.'"
"How do I get in?"
Tek smirked. "Outer perimeter's easy. I've got a backdoor code. After that? Well, you're the one with the big reputation, aren't you?"
"Of course," Jarek muttered, rolling his eyes. "And if I get caught?"
"You won't," Tek said, his grin somehow more irritating. "But if you do, maybe flash that legendary Vayne charm. Heard it works wonders." he teased.
"Charming's not my style." Jarek quipped.
Tek chuckled, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the ground. "Tomorrow night. I'll send the code an hour before the job. Try not to screw this up, ok?" Tek cautioned.
As Jarek turned to leave, Tek called out. "Hey, Vayne."
Jarek paused, glancing back.
"The Upper City ain't the Shatterzone," Tek said, his voice unusually serious. "Up there, they don't play fair."
"Noted," Jarek said, disappearing into the crowd.
Tek leaned back, his grin creeping back into place. "Good luck, Vayne. You're gonna need it." he whispered to himself.
The bazaar's neon chaos swallowed Jarek as he navigated the alleys, his mind racing through the job's details. Fifty grand wasn't much, not for the risk. But for Lira? It might just be worth the gamble.