Shabby's Little Heaven

Axel pushed through the heavy door and found Shabby, settled behind his desk, puffing on his usual cigar. 

The room was cloaked in a single color, contrasting with the multitude of hues from the dance floor.

Shabby was a man of cruelty and fun, a jockster to strangers and friends alike, yet a cruel gang leader to his enemies.

In front of Shabby sat a man, standing at five foot five, exuding confidence in his every step. 

His face was concealed behind a mask, as all Fixers do, a precaution to safeguard their identity.

 "Ah, Axel," Shabby greeted without turning, the room heavy with the smoke of his cigar. "C'mere..." he beckoned, motioning for Axel to come closer.

Axel approached, sensing the fixer's gaze on him, scrutinizing his presence.

"I assume you've run out of eddies again, and you need a gig immediately?" Shabby extended his arm, and Byte leaped onto it, settling in comfortably.

Axel nodded in agreement.

"Where's your stash from the last gig?"

"Bought a 1969 Boss. Sleek black, full manual. No room for interference or fuck ups."

"Fair enough. So, he," he gestured at the Fixer, "has a job. A simple meet-and-collect with a Data Broker for a disk."

Shabby stroked Byte, her purring the only sound resonating in the quiet room.

"A Data Broker? Sounds illegal to me." Axel smiled.

"It is illegal," the Fixer responded for the first time. "Since Shabby trusts you, I'll lay it out plain and simple."

The Fixer adjusted in his seat and turned to look at Axel, his mask concealing any expression that might betray his true emotions.

"The Data Broker has information on a closed-off research center, something even the Authority doesn't have as of right now. 

"Your job is to reach Little Maw, meet the Data Broker, transfer the credit stick, and acquire the Data Card. Simple as that."

The Fixer laid out the plan simply for him, and Axel paused to consider it.

In the background, Shabby produced a handful of fish biscuits from the drawer, and Byte happily devoured them.

"Nothing is simple in this new age," Axel shook his head. "What's the catch?"

The Fixer took a deep breath and said:

"The Research Centre is the same one that created Necro-bots."

"Oh...!"

A hush settled over the room. Axel pondered for a moment, and the Fixer and Shabby patiently awaited his response.

"How dangerous is Little Maw?" Axel broke the silence.

"It's the New World's most crime-infested city, a place where the Authority has no control, and gangs and syndicates reign supreme, with the highest Necro-bot activity," replied Shabby.

"That's a lot of danger, huh?"

"That's a lot of money."

"How much?"

"Enough to last you and your cat for months, plus a Cyberware of your choice," the Fixer answered.

"A Cyberware of... my choice?" Axel raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Yes, anything under the roof of the sun."

"Even a Consciousness Transfer Module?"

"That hasn't been produced yet. The apocalypse has set its development back. But if it were in production, then yes, you could have gotten it," the Fixer answered.

Axel was shocked. 

The CT Module was the most advanced Cyberware concept in the entire New World. 

Not only does it transfer a mind, but it also transfers all memories and consciousness to a synthetic body.

And this man was offering it to him like a piece of cake.

Of course, he didn't want that, and he was only testing the waters.

"Quantum Neural Processor?"

It was an advanced neural implant that leverages quantum computing, providing unparalleled processing speed and cognitive abilities.

"Deal."

Fixer said without batting an eye. Though Axel couldn't see his eyes, but a tomato is a tomato, right?

'Just how much rich is this guy?'

"Deal. Give me the exact location and time. I'll see what I can do. You have the cred stick, right?"

Axel looked at the Fixer, who nodded in confirmation.

In the corner, Byte finished her meal and gracefully leaped onto Axel's shoulder.

The Fixer slid him a small, sleek square, a thing called a Data Card, from across the table. 

With seasoned ease, Axel deftly caught it in his hand, his fingers instinctively finding their grip on the compact device.

He turned his right inner arms towards him, and with a mental command, a discreet line-like cutout materialized. 

It was just the right size, a cybernetic slot designed for the Data card to seamlessly slot into place.

Axel smoothly inserted the Data card, and an immersive sensation enveloped him as he felt the information seamlessly seeping into his cyber-enhanced mind.

A torrent of information surged into his mind. Maps of Little Maw materialized, the Data Broker's dossier unfolded, and details about the local gangs rapidly filled his cyber-enhanced consciousness.

"Meet the Data Broker at Little Maw. West, District 3, the bar behind the alley named, The Golden Snake." Fixer informed him.

"Golden Snake? Funny name." Axel snickered.

"It's a bar run by the 14th Street Gang. The Data Broker has an agreement with them."

Axel nodded and turned around, already heading for the exit, when he heard Shabby's voice calling out to him from behind.

"Get yourself some new threads, man. You're standing out like a sore thumb. And also don't get side tracked by looking for the red eyed man. Bury that, alright."

Axel's reflexes kicked in as he snagged the small object hurtling toward him, his fingers unwrapping it to reveal the sleek design of a cred stick.

"Thanks, Shabby."

"And one more thing," the Fixer interjected. "Whatever you do, reach Little Maw in one week."

"Why?" he questioned.

"In two weeks, there's going to be a special annual meeting, a Truimvirate. You do not want to be in Little Maw when that happens."

"Gangs?"

"Uh...sort of." Fixer nodded his head.

He got a weird vibe when the fixer mentioned "Truimvirate," but he wasn't there to get mixed up in any gang war or anything like that. All he wanted was to make some credits to get by.

Axel gave a quick nod, leaving the room and smoothly melting into the lively crowd. Byte stayed perched on his shoulder.The drugs and dance were a free thing, a means to forget the miserable life these godforsaken people have, but Axel couldn't find solace in these things.

Not anymore.

He retraced his steps and admired the beauty parked in front of the wire gate. He couldn't stop smiling every time he laid his eyes on the beast.

Axel slid into the driver's seat, and Byte hopped onto his lap. He stashed both cred sticks in Byte's hidden spot and revved up his car.