Chapter 9: Borgs

Tokyo, Japan

Nippon or Nihon literally translated into Land of the Rising Sun. A land of great ancient culture, immense geographical influence around the globe, and possess one of the largest economic and military superpowers in the world. As a nation possessing incredibly advanced levels of technology and economic resources, since the early 20th century there were many entrepreneurs willing to try their luck in this ever competitive but lucrative market.

The single largest Megacorporation the world has ever seen, Arasaka, is the most prominent example of Japanese success. Perhaps too successful as the influence of Arasaka over the globe and most noticeably Japan went too far. Even with the Prime Minister in power and the democratic votes in the hands of the people, Saburo Arasaka had things go his way through sheer popularity, buying out those in power, spies, and placing those with Arasaka loyalties in positions of power in the country.

Saburo Arasaka was once unstoppable with his word being taken as law inside the nation. The Japanese national military known as the Self Defense Force (SDF) was at his disposal as his assets colonized great parts of the world under the name and flag of Japan.

Despite Arasaka’s Japanese origins, Arasaka by itself does not define Japan. As the Prime Minister had once stated “This nation is more than Saburo.” In response to the growing force of Arasaka within Japanese politics, another group formed in opposition; the Far Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere (FACS).

FACs is an alliance of corporations big and small within Japan which had agreed to pool together their resources to prevent Arasaka from essentially monopolizing themselves on everything. As the group expanded and Arasaka’s petty competitors joined the fold, its focus began to mold itself more towards undermining the efforts of Saburo Arasaka and pry whatever can be pried from the Megacorporation’s greedy fingers.  

The Sagara Corporation (Kabushikigaisha Sagara) was once part of this alliance. A small software specialized in developing programs for everyday people and entry-level Netrunners. The small corporations’ greatest accomplishment was selling an educational program to Osaka University for their netrunning program. That or managing to copy a small and forgotten Arasaka adaption system without getting caught for 4 years…until the copyright claims and lawsuits buried the company under. 

“Oto-san” The young Sagara called out to his father. The father of the house who had once been a distinguished and respected figure now laid flat on his back on the small tatami mats in their home. Their home, once a mansion, was reduced to a small countryside shack barely fitting the father and son.

Mr. Sagara drunk of cheap sake turned to his side and pushed a pillow under his back as he tuned out his son’s voice. He had long since left behind the life of a Corpo in Tokyo. Now? He was a nobody. A has-been in debt wasting away in the outskirts of a small city trying to find hope in an offer which never, would never, come.

“Oto-san!” The son tried again. This time gently shaking his father’s shoulders in order to wake him up.

“Nandeshou.” The father grumbled. The one success the Sagara corporation ever had…it didn’t last long. The royalties for the program for the tutorial course in Sagara University was claimed by the net runner who developed the program after he managed to destroy all evidence of the contract that they had signed together. Soon after, the chief developer and the mentioned net runner together revealed that they had long since jumped ship to other corporations within the FACs.

It was around that time that the Sagara Corporation was expelled from the alliance. Since then, it was essentially free game to all as Sagara no longer had the assets, the protection, nor the connection to protect themselves. In mere months, the corporation was ripped apart by lawsuits, internal struggles, and worse of all…a rat who snitched their deepest secrets to a mere middling manager at Arasaka.

“Oto-san!” The son insisted. “An American group has offered to buy the remaining shares of the our Kaisha. They want to buy ownership! ”

The father waved his hands as if swatting away a fly before slumping down again. “Let me guess. 50 Million Yen? Or since they are Amerikahito, 150,000 Eurodollars?” 

That would barely be enough to last him a year or two. Maybe five years if he quit his drinking. But no, it wouldn’t’t be enough. Soon the loansharks would be out to get him again…he’d have to find a way to hide the money from them somehow. He’d have to find a way to hide himself and his son somehow.

Or just…die. Take the debt with him to death and leave his son a clean slate at least. A firm warning to him to never follow in his footsteps and dishonor his name more than he had already stained it.

That…or find a way to get 300 Million Yen to pay off his debts and start all over somewhere else. What a stupid dream, worthy of that third world country; Naitoshiti

“Mattaku Nai! The Amerikahito offered 2 million Eurodollars! 600 Million Yen!”

The old founder jolted awake as he grabbed his father’s hand. “Where do I sign?” He found the tablet with a contract named under a group called…

“Krehuhboyunt” He pronounced the name in his mouth. What a strange name.

… …

Colin Wallis

This was not the most comfortable situation I had been in. To describe the situation to myself, it sounded like a beginning of a bad joke shared among scavengers.

A naked torso with extracted cybernetics lays on a cooling metal table.

To make matters of pride worse, currently I lacked the male genital…or rather any reproductive organ. In order to ‘remake’ me, the Ripperdoc had removed all cyberware and that list included my optics as well as his Mr. Studd.

So I was laying on a surgeon’s table as a fully naked torso unable to move, feel or see anything. No limbs, no dick, no eyes…literally just a torso and a head. As I felt the echos of a saw moving across the top of my head and carving out what must be the the skull, I mentally crossed out the head from the short list.

“Vyou cen steell talk, Vou know zis Mr. Wallis. No?” A voice told him. Rather young, almost a girl, with a small (maybe not that small) hint of a French accent. “Ophen brain opherazions vill not imphact vour abilite to do so.”

“Yes.” I responded. I tried to focus on the voice as I mentally filtered out the French spellings. It was harder to talk without the optics, no longer having access to the HoloCall functions.

“I thought you would have more questions.” I heard something metallic from the wrong side of my head. It was rather disorienting, to hear the sound echoing from the inside of my brain rather than from the outside. 

But the surgeon (or ripperdoc) was right. I had questions. Too many questions. I wanted to know where I was headed, who…or rather what I would become. I wanted to know what sort of fate awaited me. I wanted to know more about the girl on the screen who had brought me here. I wanted to know if I would still be alive and myself at the end of this operation.

“Who are you?” Was all that I said.

“A very basic question, but essential nonetheless. I am a nobody who simply got lucky. Right now? I am your surgeon tasked with saving your life. After this, I am the target of your protection and loyalty. I trust my name was in the pamphlet shared with you during the flight?”

My sponsor. My…owner. 

“Ms. Comtesse” I recognized. “You are a surgeon?” Looking up at the ceiling, I saw nothing. What did I expect? No optics. Just strange itches of where my eyes should be.

“Not officially. But I assure you that I am more qualified to save your life than anyone at this moment.” The loud buzzing sound from the miniature handheld chainsaw currently doing something inside my skull didn’t fill me with much confidence.

“The doctors. They said it was impossible.” 

“They simply don’t know what I do. No need to blame them.” Miss Comtesse put the saw back down on the small metal table before switching it out for an extremely sharp needle and gold threads. “Anyone who pitched the idea for this operation would be called a genius…or a delusional fool.”

“What are you trying.” I wanted to ask a question but like always, it came out sounding like a threat.

“Keep this secret of mine, will you Mr. Wallis?” She said. “Magic, as we perceive it, is merely sufficiently advanced technology that we can not understand the logic behind it. Show a caveman a gun and he shall believe it to be god’s thundering weapon. Show the realm of cyberspace to an ancient king, and you shall be god.”

“Your…point?”

“I happen to see beyond the limits of what we define as science and what lays beyond. Not much limits…with what I have available at least. Let’s just say that I can easily innovate and improve upon and what is already here so long as I respect the rules of the dimensions above.” She was delusional after all, it seems.

“I don’t understand.” So this is how it ends. Stuck on a table as a mad corporate woman plays with his brain like a kid with some scop. 

“To put it simply, I can improve science into realms of the impossible with today’s developments.” Another snip as she cut the gold thread inside his head. Tying something together, even though there shouldn’t be anything to tie together inside a brain. “I am utterly incapable of creating a device to unbalance the fabric of reality or causality and match real time. The necessary parts and information…nonexistent in this world unfortunately.”

Snip

“You’re delusional.” I should have listened to that doctor and laid still in bed. Waiting to die. Waiting for the end in peace without becoming some fucking monstrosity or plaything for a corporate madwoman. 

I should have accepted the end when it came. All because of this stupid desire to extend my life beyond the lease I was given…

“Delusion is often the byproduct of a gifted mind. But Mr. Wallis, what does that say about the man who accepted such an offer?”

“Desperate. And Stupid.” What else was there. 

“Yes and yes.” Snip. “But I see a man of ambition, a narcissist, an egotist. I see a man ready to sacrifice all others for his gain. A man who recognizes the costs and knows what price he can pay and what he cannot.” Snip “Pragmatic and logical. Efficient” 

Small hands turned my head to one the side as I felt the sharp edges and threads at work again. Something was being attached to my brain. I could feel it…almost.

“You were always nothing more than the brain inside your skull Mr. Wallis. You never needed those arms, those legs. Even now you don’t need your lungs, your spine, your heart.” My thoughts…they were becoming clearer, better, something inside me expanding as I could see the world far better even with the lack of optics.

“Now, I am simply moving you to a better host than your flesh ever was.” And my entire connection to my body was severed as I felt myself being lifted from the empty skull I once called a temple. Looking back, it was…disgusting. To think that I ever thought something that weak could protect me, could grant me strength.

“Your new body and mind will give you the strength, the certainty of steel, that you once lacked. Perhaps this time you won’t fail in your mission Mr. Wallis. The Colonel lives on because of your failures and Night City along with the NUSA suffers for it.” Something connected, and I felt the limbs come alive. Metal limbs. 

“Your days of glory are not yet over.” I saw the light again as my eyes…more eyes than I had ever had registered the world around me. Seeing far more…range in the light. Colors I’ve never seen before, thermo-perception, seeing through objects, parts of cyberspace, I felt…better. Better than I ever had. The pain was gone and so was the uncertainty. This was always meant to be.

“So tell me Mr. Wallis, do you have what it takes to become a legend?”

My internal monitors started scanning everything within my body. Every individual part and every single programming going through its operations. The mess of a million techno jumble suddenly making sense as I realized that this was just the beginning. With nothing but the brain and the life-support system within my stomach, I was open to an entire world of upgrades.

Already, blueprints of science far beyond anything the world had ever seen coming to my mind. Impossible to build…but easily designed and for request to the one person that could put something like this together. 

“Yes” Guess I was delusional too.

… …

Judy Alvarez

“I don’t have anything against Borgs.” I said to the girl who snuggled in closer towards me on the bed. “But are you sure he isn’t crazy?” I glanced at the tablet showing the live feed of a Borg currently testing a long bladed against a fully metal-plated dummy. A single slice and the dummy was cut cleanly in two.

“Mmhmm, you don’t have to worry about him. Wuz crazy wayyy before borgification.” My little Tesha whispered back. She reached up, putting her hands around my neck before bringing me down for a peck on the cheek. “Besides, Colin’s got Dragon to keep his mind in check. They’ll be running gigs together across the city until he’s ready.”

The white haired pixie groaned a little bit, stretching her arms as she disentangled herself from me before climbing out of bed. 

“Another busy day?” I guessed as I watched my output rush quickly change in and out of clothes. A toothbrush in her mouth as she did her hair.

“Yes, but I can stay home if you want.” She winked at me. “What about you?”

“I’ve been thinking…about accepting an offer.” Tesha turned towards me, spitting out the bubbled up paste into the sink before gargling. Throwing the toothbrush behind her back as it landed perfectly upright inside the holder.

“Must be hell of an offer Jude!” Tesha gave me a full tooth grin. “You’ve always turned those down! Who was it this time? WNS? N54? Another braindance studio with a hell of a lot of Eddies?”

“No, uh, it’s the Mox.” I saw Tesha frown in confusion. Her gemini hand scratching her temple as she tried to go through some memories or information no doubt. So cute how she always showed her thoughts so easily. “You know, the gang?”

“Gang? Jude, I thought I told you to tell me if you were ever blackma-” I reached out and hugged her before she could finish. She had it all misunderstood.

“No, I’m joining them. They didn’t actually reach out that much at all. Kinda just got a pamphlet that’s all. But I’ve gotta do this Tess.”

“But gangs…they’re dangerous! You might get hurt in some gang war or something! The badges, the other gangs, the corps. They’re everyone’s targets!” She looked like she was about to cry, her cheeks getting slightly puffy.

“It’s the Mox Tess, I’ll be fine. I’ll just be their braindance editor at their bar. It’s a small gang, small time. It’ll be safe.”

“No it won’t! Small time gangs make easy small time targets! A mere mid executive manager looking for a bonus on his paycheck could get the resources to wipe out a gang that size!” She tried to argue. “At least take Armsmaster with you or something!”

I walked up to her before gently placing my hands on her shoulders. Looking into her eyes as I tried to convey what was so obvious to her. I needed to do this. I just had to.

“Tess, when I told you that on the night we met. How fixing people’s lives like a braindance would be like a dream come true.” I dragged her in for a hug as she hung limp in my arms. “I don’t have what you have Tess. That ability of yours, the ability to think like you do. I don’t. I admit it.”

Tesha sniffled a little into my neck.

“But I do know how to tune a braindance. I do know how to crank up the orgasm. I know that being with the Mox? I could use my position to help a lot of people. Help some really desperate people in this city, Tess.”

“…I don’t like it… But I don’t think I’d like myself either if I stop you either.”

“I’m not sure if the Mox would welcome Borgmaster into the gang at first sight. Well, maybe if he changes his color theme to neon pink and blue.” I tried cracking a joke but the silence from my output told me I’d failed.

“I really don’t want this story going down the same path Judy. I don’t want that for you.” Tesha mumbled, probably thinking I wouldn’t be able to make it out. She did this sometimes, too smart for her own good. Too gifted with a mind to realize that I was here with her…in the present.

“I won’t stop you Judy, but I’m stopping everyone else.” Tesha told me. The look in her eyes told me that this was already determined. Already decided. “I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

… …

Wade Bleecker

Impossible. 

And yet it wasn’t. I looked down at the handwritten letter on my desk.

For Mr. Wade Bleecker a.k.a Mr. Hands

You seem to have trouble dealing with an infestation.

Fortunately I have the ability to help you.

Why don’t you go talk to Yoko.

-Clairvoyant

Inside the letter was a small shard in which I did as instructed and sent the file to Yoko. What returned was an invitation in cyberspace. Secure as far as Yoko could tell.

But that wasn’t the problem. The letter itself was.

There was someone out there who knew who I was. Most likely in extreme detail judging as it was personally placed on his desk of all places addressed with his name…a name no one should associate with Mr. Hands. Details which could put my life at risk once again.

Petrochem just doesn’t know when to give up. Changing my name and face wasn’t enough to throw off this mystery host, nor the dozens of pitfalls I had prepared for someone searching for my identity.

To top it all off, this Clairvoyant figure claimed to know the infestation problem he was currently faced with.

Pacifica, as of the moment, was in an incredibly messy point at the moment. So many parties trying to cut a piece of the cake for themselves unwilling share a crumb. 

The VooDoo Boys, NCPD, Animal Dens, Maelstrom, Hansen’s dogs, and to top it all off Dexter Deshawn of the Afterlife. The fat ass gold plated black fool thought himself a messiah among the street fixers. Ambitious and capable…but too ambitious. 

The fool was stirring up far too much trouble in the region for any business to be conducted at all but the gold plated fool was good at one thing.

Hiding his own tracks.

“Have you reached a decision, Hands?” Yoko called over the Holo.

If I cut my losses now, I would only continue to lose and lose with nothing to gain. At least this risk would enable the opportunity to gain something at all.

“I accept the invitation.” 

… …

Colin Wallis

I landed on my ass as my motorized legs and arms revved up and flipped me back up to standing position, facing the greatest enigma of my life.

It didn’t make any fucking sense! I brought the halberd down with all my strength, the edge of the blade quickly blurring as it went several times the speed of sound. Swinging it in all directions my prediction software stated but once I finished the last stroke, the figure still stood there as if nothing had happened.

No…replaying what the optics captured, I saw that she was dodging all of those strikes by a hair’s breathe…somehow. It should have been impossible, and yet she was proving to me that it wasn’t.

Tesha Comtesse. As I scanned her, the only cybernetics she had that was of worth was a gemini arm, a cyberdeck, and her optics. No adamantium limbs, no nano-plagues, no reflex boosters or any combat cyberware of note.

Nothing. And I was getting my ass beat.

It began the day I woke up in that borg template body. As a show of kindness, Ms. Comtesse had offered to show me the ropes of handling a fully borg body. Controlling my strength, moving limbs in a way unique to Borgs, and more. As soon as I had the basic grasp on my body, she had asked me for a spar in which I declined.

I wasn’t going to stupidly hurt my sponsor and end this deal so soon. Ms. Comtesse wasn’t one to take no for an answer and I was pit against my savior. I had intended to go soft but before I could barely process what had happened, I was on the ground with my metallic limbs overextended and twisted against each other.

And the spars became personal. Again and again over the weeks I lost and each time I came back stronger, better, upgraded. More and more chrome added on and replaced and individual parts switched out with others for the sole purpose of becoming ‘better’.

It was then she put out the condition of completing her own ‘gigs’ before I could once again challenge her to a duel. These gigs ranging from lowly courier gigs to others that ended with his entire side missing and his target incinerated to ashes. 

Ms. Comtesse threw the handheld electric baton between her hands as she closed the gap between us once again. The exclusive combat skill-chip from Dragon kicking in as I moved to intercept her strike. As she simply let go the baton and gripped it again from the other side (namely, the side where my face was), before landing a strike once again on my head.

My military training kicked in as I attempted to grab her and take the fight to the ground but she dodged under my arm. I turned faster than she should be able to move but she had never let go of my arm, using my own propulsion to acrobatically swing on top of my head before readjusting her weight in just a way to prevent me from reaching her. A hand reached down as she locked some metal pieces on the contraptions on the back and I fell face forward like a heavy metal statue. 

A hand cushioned my fall but the electric baton was held against my exposed throat and wires. Once again, my loss.

“How?!” I slammed my fist into the ground as the cement underneath it cracked. I should be faster, better, stronger than her. My weeks of upgrades with Dragon and Ms. Tesha herself broke world records on combat cyberware. 

I had installed both a Kerenzikov and a custom prototype Sandevistan to outspend anyone. I could think faster than anyone. Heavy armor frames capable of matching Samson’s, interface plugs, chip slots, pain editor, the full link set to all my weapons and war vehicles, upgraded optics, cyberaudio signal-fixers, cyberdecks, antigravity packs, and the full body replacement with the best parts available on the market or not.

I was a 7.5ft tall towering cyborg with enough firepower to match an army, enough skillchips to outsmart a brainiac, enough chrome to outweigh Adam Smasher himself. So WHY WAS I LOSING?!!

{Relax Colin. We both knew that Tesha is different somehow. I’m updating this fight to the Predication Software}

I mechanical sound came from my throat as I rose once again to see the person who bested me.

“Our accord remains the same Mr. Wallis. You complete my tasks and you can challenge me again.”

Barely any sweat on her, Ms. Comtesse dropped the baton before sending a large file over the HoloText.

… …

Brigitte

In the depths of cyberspace, I examined a red trace of something that was so utterly familiar yet a complete mystery. What was this…and more importantly, why was this here?

This red trail of…destruction within my Data Fortress. The once proud creation of the Haitian people now laid in ruins. The defenses weakened by whatever had wrecked havoc within. At least none of our people were harmed, at least nobody knew that they were at the mercy of any half decent Netrunner now.

Just an hour, that was all they would need to fix up this mess and restore the fortress to it’s pristine state.

The stars, the whirlwind…it’s got to be something. Something big. Someone had managed to unleash this thing inside without any one of us noticing. 

As I touched the glitching files, it became so damningly obvious as to what it was.

Red. Whirlwind. Stars. Explosive.

“IT’S AH TRAHP!!” I yelled as loud as possible, warning the others in the net. 

SOULKILLER 1.9

It was never meant to be here. It wasn’t here…but that didn’t matter. Unleashing a program of this size and scale leaves its mark…and those who see it? Those who lost it?

{ARASAKA INBOUND} {ARASAKA INBOUND}

Across the black sky of cyberspace, I saw the shadows of Arasaka Net Armada, complete with a legion of elite Net-runners painting the digital world in a shade of red. Coming to reclaim what they had lost, following the traces of the program and destroying all that was in their path.

“Ah, so dis iz it den?”

{ARASAKA BREACH PROGRAMS IMMINENT} {ARASAKA BREACH IMMINENT}

Underneath the flickering remnants of the defenses the SoulKiller program had devoured itself on, I saw a small tag of a mask with a single large eye. 

Before it too was crushed under the weight of thousand breach protocols by a pissed off Megacorporation.

“THIS IS ARASAKA COUNTER INTEL! SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR DIE!”

The agents raised their guns and swords, programs raining down on the fortress without a single moment to breathe. 

Defensive programs rose up as I felt the impact of intrusion programs trying to reach me. A shield manifested in my arms as I blocked against the unending tide of Arasaka runner fucks. 

*Bzzzzztttt!!!*

A blink. That was all it took as I saw a glimpse of a program, most likely Black ICE of some sort, shatter my shield and go directly through me. I felt the beginnings of my nerves heat up as my optics in real space fizzled out. The heat overwhelming my ability to think.

Fucker lying again. Fucking corps. They never intended to take us alive anyway.

… …