Sky the colour of a dead channel (Mandy x Shepherd)

[Mandy]

The neon glow of the city's underbelly bled into the perpetual twilight of the narrow street. Mandy leaned against a wall, the cool ferrocrete a familiar anchor against the hum of the city. Rain, a perpetual acid drizzle in this sector, slicked the pavement, reflecting the garish lights of holographic advertisements for corporate luxuries she'd long since abandoned. The air smelled of ozone, stale synth-food, and the metallic tang of something vaguely organic, a cocktail she'd come to associate with the low sectors.

Her enhanced senses were a symphony of data. The distant rumble of a freight flyer, the high-pitched chatter of a street gang arguing over a shard of pure-data, the subtle, rhythmic pulse of a nearby vent system. Her cat's eyes had already adjusted to the gloom, the world a canvas of subtle shades and sharp contrasts. She was a shadow in the shadows, waiting.

The meeting had been set by her fixer, a nervous little data-broker named Jax who specialized in jobs too dirty for even the dirtiest of corporate goons. A Yakuza meet. The thought of it was a bitter pill. She'd spent her life escaping the gilded cage of corporate power, only to find herself dealing with its equally brutal shadow. What could the Yakuza want from her that their own soldiers couldn't handle? She mentally cataloged her own augmentations, the list a silent reassurance. The enhanced bone density, the woven muscle fibers, the orthoskin that made her skin a shield. She was built for a brawl, a one-woman riot. Her bioware was a direct rebuke to the cold, clunky cybernetics of the old world. It was organic, seamless, and, most importantly, not networked. No one could hack her.

A sleek, black aircar, its engine almost silent, descended a few meters down the street. The passenger door hissed open, and a man stepped out. He was tall, dressed in a crisply tailored suit that seemed an anachronism in this grimy setting. He moved with a dancer's grace, but there was an underlying tension, a coiled spring in his posture. This had to be Satoru Shiro.

He stopped in the middle of the street, his back to the light, his face a silhouette. For a moment, they simply existed in the same space, two apex predators sizing each other up. Mandy felt the subtle shift in her body, a heightened awareness that was a byproduct of her synaptic booster. Her perception of time stretched, giving her a microsecond to analyze every movement, every potential threat.

Satoru's gaze seemed to pierce the darkness, and Mandy picked out the glint of his eyes, not entirely human. His left arm, in particular, was a different shade, a polished, seamless replacement that spoke of high-grade cyberware. She could imagine the hidden enhancements, the strength, the speed, the lethal surprise of a retractable weapon. He was a perfect blend of old-world discipline and new-world technology. A truly dangerous man.

 

[commanderShepard]

Satoru Shiro looked out the window of his luxury air car as it flew through the night sky. The windows were pelted by endless rain as the car wove between the hologram billboards that lit up the concrete jungle with pulsing neon light, like some fucked up BTL dream. He was taking a risk by doing this meet in person and off the premises of his compound—his honbu—or one of his business fronts. He had been doing research for weeks into the right person for the job he needed—his netrunners did most of the legwork, but he insisted on verifying everything himself.

Which is how he knew exactly how dangerous this Mandy was. Or at least, he knew what was available. Who knew if it was accurate, or if Mandy was hiding secrets about herself or falsifying data. He also knew she was a professional of the highest caliber, which was the only reason he was here tonight instead of safe in the honbu. She was unlikely to kill a business contact, especially during a first meet. Still, he was taking every precaution.

The car began its descent, the last bit a vertical decline as the thrusters kicked up dirt and water from the puddles on the city floor before it came to rest. Even through the rain-stained glass of the window, Satoru could see the shadowy figure waiting for him.

In the front of the car were two of his top operatives. His driver and bodyguard—one of his most trusted men—and another soldier armed to the teeth for backup. But around the area, yakuza agents had been gathering for the past two hours. There were four in total, spaced out around the meeting spot, each acting like some civilian doing mundane activities. But Satoru was already aware that if Mandy was as good as she was supposed to be, she was likely already aware of them. They were as much a test for her ability as they were potential protection for himself.

No reason to burn more time than was necessary. He opened the door and stepped out into the rain. He was dressed in a kevlar-lined suit with impeccable taste and tailoring, and carried no visible weapons—though he had a retractable tanto in his right arm, which was a full cyberlimb of black carbon, and an Ares Predator in a shoulder holster. Only a fool went out unarmed in this city. He wore a black menpo over the lower half of his face, which made it impossible to see his mouth and hid many of his other features, especially in shadow. Thankfully it also filtered out much of the reek he was sure existed in parts of the city like this.

The woman he saw standing before him looked normal enough. Her posture belied her training and skill, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. But he could see no chrome, which fit her profile—her ware was apparently all organic. Expensive, which meant she had good funding, or made a lot of money from her jobs. He knew she needed no weapons, either. She was the weapon, and could likely kill him before his men could even get out of the car, despite his own upgrades.

Satoru began with a half bow at the waist, a sign that he considered her an equal worthy of respect. "Kon'nichiwa, Mandy," Satoru said after he straightened up. His mask modulated his real voice, disguising it. It came out deep, but not gruff, and the sound was artificially amplified over the sound of the rain.

 

[Mandy]

The half-bow and the modulated greeting hung in the rain-soaked air, a peculiar blend of old-world ceremony and new-world tech. Mandy's enhanced senses didn't just register the sound, but also the subtle vibrations of his voice, the way it cut through the perpetual hum of the city. Her cat's eyes adjusted to the specific shade of black on his cybernetic arm, a hue that spoke of a high-end, military-grade alloy. The polished surface was so smooth, so seamless, it was almost beautiful in its cold, inorganic perfection.

A faint smile, a ghost of a thing, touched her lips. He was good. And his security was better. Most would miss the slight shift in posture from the man on the comms across the street, or the way the 'civilian' leaning against the wall held a tension that was a little too still, a little too ready. But Mandy's synaptic booster had processed it all in a heartbeat. The world slowed just enough for her to catalog each threat, each potential escape route. She was, almost, impressed.

She didn't return the bow, but her head tilted slightly in a small gesture of acknowledgment. The rain slicked her dark hair, a constant drumbeat against the hum of the city. "Polite, but not necessary," she said, her voice a low, steady counterpoint to the endless drizzle. She let her own tailored pheromones release, a subtle, almost imperceptible cloud of chemicals designed to promote a sense of unease. It was a habit more than a tactic, a low-cost, low-risk test. She saw no reaction, a minor disappointment she filed away. His menpo was more than just a mask; it was a sealed environment, a rejection of the dirty world they stood in.

Her gaze met his, and for a long moment, the only sound was the drumming of rain and the distant flicker of neon advertisements reflected in a puddle at her feet. "Let's skip the pleasantries," she said, her tone professional and direct. "My time isn't free, and I'm sure yours isn't cheap. You've done your research. You know what I can do. So tell me, what's the job?"

 

[commanderShepard]

Satoru gave a single huff of mild amusement. She wasted no time in getting to the point. Was that to her benefit, or not? There was something to be said for formalities and tradition. They lasted for a reason. The fact that she shirked them was just as interesting as if she had adhered to them. But in the end, it changed nothing about this encounter.

"Straight to business, then. You are right, time is not free or cheap." Satoru had only a hint of a Japanese accent, mostly betrayed by the unusual emphasis he put on the first or last syllable of some words. He had spent half his life in America and had learned to speak English before he could write. "Omnicorp. The job is Omnicorp."

The biggest megacorporation in this hemisphere, and one of the biggest in the world. Their headquarters was in this city. They had dozens of R&D projects, not to mention exclusive high-end manufacturing. But they had the best security money could buy. Nigh untouchable.

"They recently executed a... hostile takeover over one of my mizu shōbai—business fronts. I lost good people. I want to hit them where it hurts. There is a project they are running. New organic ware. I want it. All prototypes, all data."

She wanted direct, he made it direct. Everything she needed to know, right upfront. Everything except the fee, but as with any good runner, that was always a negotiation.

 

[Mandy]

Mandy felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time—a cold, quiet satisfaction. The name alone, OmniCorp, was enough to send a familiar, vengeful charge through her. The years of suppressing her past, of building a new identity brick by brick, had not dulled the edge of her hatred for the empire her father had built. The thought of striking a blow against them, of taking something they considered their own, was better than any payment he could offer.

She crossed her arms over her chest, the action casual but controlled. The rain pattered off her compact armoured vest, but she didn't seem to notice. Her tailored pheromones shifted, a subtle change that conveyed her interest and readiness.

"OmniCorp," she repeated, the name a whisper on her lips. "I'm listening."

She let the silence hang for a moment, a negotiation tactic she'd learned in the lower sectors. She watched him, her cat's eyes taking in every detail of his posture, the slight tilt of his cybernetic arm, the stillness of his men. She saw the test, the veiled threat, and met it with a stillness of her own.

"Are you looking for a smash and grab, or a hack job?" she asked, her voice low and direct. "And am I working alone, or are you offering me a team?"

 

[commanderShepard]

The slight changes in Mandy's posture were not lost on Satoru. The way her back straightened as she crossed her arms, her lean frame shifting in a way that made her curves more subtle. Was the gleam in her eye from her ware, or was it because of the corporation he named? He wouldn't put it past her for every motion, no matter how tiny, to be a calculated maneuver.

Beneath his mask, the corner of his mouth tilted up in the hint of a smirk. She was testing him with her questions, seeing how deep his knowledge went. "I am aware you are used to working alone, Mandy. But a team shall be available to you, should you wish it, even if only for backup. For this particular job, both. The server is hardened, not connected to the net. It can only be accessed on site."

It was his turn to pause. The sound of the rain filled the space between them. A siren punctuated the passing seconds until its wail drifted into the night. The nearby billboard hologram changed, shifting the light in the alley from blue to purple. It shone off her armor, her wet hair, and the glow of her eyes changed from orange to red.

Then he continued. "I want the entire research team removed. No knowledge of the project should exist for Omnicorp to pick up from where they left off. The ninkyō dantai will complete the prototype. Once we are able to replicate it... payment to you will be the original."

 

[Mandy]

A ghost of a smile, cold and satisfied, touched Mandy's lips. The job was personal, and it was perfect. The idea of not just hitting OmniCorp, but completely gutting one of their projects—taking the culmination of their research and turning it into something else entirely—was deeply appealing. And the payment, the original prototype itself, was an ironic and fitting reward.

"So a team is optional, and I'm to break in, get to their servers, and physically extract the data," she said, her voice a low murmur that cut through the sound of the rain. "And you want the research team eliminated. Clean. No survivors, no witnesses. That's a mess, Satoru, but you've come to the right person."

She wasn't worried about the "smash and grab" portion of the job. She was built for it. Her bone density and muscle augmentations would make quick work of any flesh-and-blood security guards, and her orthoskin and enhanced pain tolerance would allow her to handle the rest. She was a living weapon, and Satoru knew it.

"I need details on the team you're offering and their capabilities. I also need to know the location of the server, the size of the research team, and the physical defenses of the building," she continued, her voice all business now. "I'll handle the rest."

 

[commanderShepard]

Satoru watched her smile. He had guessed she would be happy with the job, and he was right. Reading people, or anticipating them, had always been a gift of his.

He held up an encrypted data chip between two fingers in his organic hand. "This has everything you need to know. Profiles of the operatives, and everything I have on the location. The chip's ice will brick it if a copy is made." Standard procedure for data protection, but still worth mentioning.

Before she could take the chip, however, he closed his hand around it. "One final thing. Team or no team, I will be shadowing you personally. I shall keep an acceptable distance while you work, but I will be on site to observe."

 

[Mandy]

Mandy watched Satoru's hand close around the chip, her smile never fading. The gleam in her cat's eyes was less about the job now and more about the man in front of her. His demand to personally shadow her was a power play, a way to exert control over her. He saw her as a tool, and he wanted to be there to make sure his tool was doing its job.

She let the moment hang in the air, the sound of the rain the only noise. She could feel her augmented body, the energy from her suprathyroid gland a constant hum just beneath her skin. She wasn't an obedient weapon, and she wasn't a tool. She was the one who pulled the strings.

"Observing?" she said, her voice a purr. She took a step closer, the scent of her tailored pheromones subtly shifting to something more intimate and enticing. "I'm not usually one for voyeurs. Satoru, if you're going to be that close to me while I work, I expect you to be more than a passive observer. This kind of job, you get up close and personal with your partners. I want you to be right there with me, feeling every little thing. Is that the kind of working relationship you're looking for?"

She reached out and took the chip from his hand, her fingers brushing his. The touch was a promise and a threat all at once. "Now, let me look over this information and we can get started on your payback."

 

[commanderShepard]

The coy words, the subtle lilt in her voice, the shift in her body language as she swayed her hips while she walked towards him. All of it unmistakable, blatant flirting. Was it a tug of war over power? Was she trying to get him to bend to her instead? Or, perhaps, was she genuinely flirting? Doubtful. Every move with this woman was calculated, it all had a purpose. Though who said that purpose couldn't be her own pleasure.

So he smiled again, the expression still hidden by his mask. "I do not mind being watched myself. And do not worry... I have no intention of being passive. Either on this job, or up close and personal with you, feeling every little thing." Two could play this game, dangerous though it was. They had only just met, and both were lethally dangerous.

He released the data chip, letting her proceed with the business again. "The chip contains information on how to contact me. I will await your call, when you have finished briefing." He made to get back into the still-waiting car, propulsors creating constant ripples over the surface of the puddles collecting in the dirt and pavement.

 

[Mandy]

Mandy caught the chip with a deft flick of her fingers, the gesture as fluid as the rest of her movements.

"I look forward to it," she purred, the words a promise more than a farewell. She turned her back on him and began to walk away, the rain beading on her skin and clothing. She knew he was watching her, and she let him. Let him watch her disappear into the neon-soaked night, a ghost in the machine ready to haunt his enemy.

The data chip felt cold in her hand, a small piece of technology that held the key to her next revenge fantasy. The job wasn't just about money anymore, if it ever was. It was about proving to OmniCorp, and to Satoru, that she was more than just a prodigal daughter or a hired gun. She was the one who was always ready to collect.

 

[commanderShepard]

With Mandy's farewell, Satoru climbed into his car, and it took off. He watched her from out the rain-flecked window, noting that she turned her back to the car and walked away without looking at him depart once. He doubted that her guard was down, though. The man in the front that wasn't driving sent out a message on the open comm channel to their people on the ground: meet went smoothly, stand down and let her depart. Satoru knew that it was the other way around—she was letting them depart. Now it was a waiting game.

The data chip was loaded with as much information as his netrunners had found. There was a folder with everything on Omnicorp's move on yakuza territory, including a surprising amount of detail on those business and the people that had been operating them—it showed a lot of trust that Satoru was willing to reveal it. Another folder had everything on the Omnicorp bioware division, most of which Mandy probably already knew, but showed the thoroughness of Satoru's people. A third had the information on the team Satoru had put together as Mandy's backup. Six operatives in total, with dossiers on their skillsets, gear, and ware. A seventh dossier was on Satoru himself, though undoubtedly the information shared in it was need-to-know only with plenty of information left out.

The last data branch was on the off-books project and the facility that housed it. Dossiers on the researchers and techs, but only a few of those on the security teams, likely only those that could be seen during surveillance. The location of the facility, the filed blueprints of the building. Information on the observable physical security, weak points, and hardlines for power—with the wireless matrix, there was no cutting access to the net and therefore communications. The security data included annotations that made it very clear that it was incomplete without access to the building's interior, and it was possible there could be anything from hardened checkpoints to drones to automated turrets inside, and at the minimum there would be armed security and cameras.

But most important was the information on the bioware itself. Satoru had been vague, but the data chip had the complete project briefing—how the yakuza had gotten ahold of such a classified document was baffling. The ware was a new organ, placed low in the abdomen, that connected to the circulatory system. It functioned as a second heart; it couldn't sustain a person indefinitely if their real heart failed, but it would buy them a minimum of 24 hours, putting them into a comatose state rather than full cardiac arrest. But perhaps more importantly, it fortified the user's bloodstream with a new type of platelet factories that was four times as effective as the best comparable ware on the market.

Super healing. Omnicorp was developing super healing, and Satoru Shiro wanted Mandy to steal it.

 

[Mandy]

The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the damp earth of a forgotten city park. Mandy’s chameleon suit hummed softly, a low-frequency static that blurred her form against the peeling paint of a concrete wall.

She was a flicker, a heat shimmer in the corner of a passerby’s eye, a rumor of a figure waiting in the shadows. The large-caliber pistol, its suppressor a blunt cylinder, was a heavy, familiar presence in her hand. The monomolecular edge of her long sword rested against her back, a silent promise of precision and finality.

Her mind, however, was not on her weapons. It was replaying the data from Satoru’s chip, a cold cascade of information that she had absorbed and analyzed over the last day. The OmniCorp bioware project. A new heart, a hyper-efficient system of platelet factories. A technology of life, designed by the very corporation that had once sought to control her own. The irony was a bitter taste in her mouth. She had paid a king's ransom for her own enhancements—for her independence—and now OmniCorp was on the verge of monetizing a far superior version. It was a slap in the face, a direct threat to the very core of her identity as a woman who had broken free.

And Satoru wanted her to steal it. He hadn't been lying when he said he wanted to hit them where it hurt. This wasn't just a hostile takeover; it was an act of brutal sabotage. He wasn't just taking their money or their assets; he was gutting their future. This wasn't just a job; it was a crusade.

She had read the dossiers on his people, the profiles of the yakuza operatives. She had already decided against the team. Their cyberware was a liability, a digital trail waiting to be followed. Her own bio-integrations, the intricate weaving of muscles and bone, the subtle filtering of her pain, the enhanced metabolism, were all organic. She was off-grid, a ghost in a machine world. A team of clunky cyborgs would only serve as a distraction, a sacrifice.

She had called Satoru directly. Just him. Just one cold professional. No intermediaries, no fuss. The message was simple: she was a weapon, and she needed only one other to do the job. She might be a loner, but she never turned down competent backup.

The city's hum was a dull roar in the background, a constant reminder of the life she had left behind. She felt the chill of the concrete against her suit, a stark contrast to the fire of the vengeance building in her heart. She was a weapon, honed and ready, and OmniCorp was about to learn that some ghosts don't just haunt—they destroy.

 

[commanderShepard]

When he got the call, Satoru was unsurprised to hear that Mandy did not want the team. She confirmed his inclusion, though that had been non-negotiable, so he was not certain if she would prefer that he, too, was not present. Ultimately it did not matter. This was a job, one that would be executed cleanly and efficiently by both parties. That's why he hired Mandy. The inflated egos and swaggering personalities of most shadowrunner teams made them a liability, even if they provided reliable outcomes. He needed something more for this job. Something better. And she was the best.

He approached her on foot this time, strolling through the park in a tailored knee-length black coat. The rest of his suit was no less impeccable, and the ensemble probably cost more than some top of the line cyberware. He carried the same weapons as before, a monomolecular katana and Ares Predator loaded with armor-piercing rounds, and wore his signature menpo. He had no visible backup or guards, even at a distance. He walked with the casual importance matching someone of his station and skill—unhurried and unconcerned about potential risk so out in the open. His movements were measured, not a single one without purpose or thought.

"Good evening, Mandy," he said as he approached, though he was sure she had detected his presence long before he was within earshot. He came to a stop beside her and clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders rigid. The park was slightly elevated, and from the vantage point they could see parts of the city beyond, alive with a neon lifeblood.

 

[Mandy]

Upon hearing Satoru's greeting, Mandy emerged from the shadows of the wall, the chameleon suit deactivating with a faint shimmer. She stood straight, dropping her pistol to her side, and performed a respectful half-bow, a gesture she knew would resonate with his traditional background.

"I appreciate you offering me this job, Shiro-san," she said, her voice smooth and respectful, a stark contrast to her previous tone. Her eyes, however, betrayed the feral glint of a predator. She cast a appreciative look over his immaculate coat and the barely concealed weapons he carried. The monomolecular katana and the Ares Predator were a statement, a reflection of his own deadly efficiency.

"I have a plan in mind," she continued, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur. "It's a mix of surgical stealth and absolute chaos. They won't know we're there until all hell breaks loose." She paused, letting the full weight of her words sink in, the chaos and carnage of the planned attack a vivid picture in the darkness of the park.

"And it'll be just us," she added. "Which brings me to another question I've been meaning to ask you. This kind of work... it's a very intimate kind of violence. Do you ever get 'personally' involved with your hired help? Jobs like this always make me feel alive, and I often need a way to release that energy."

 

[commanderShepard]

Satoru marked her sign of deference, then turned to her and returned the bow. Then he nodded in response to her appreciation, and to her elevator pitch for the plan. "I expected you would lay out the tactical plans yourself. Tell me how you want it executed, and it shall be done."

Then she asked about his level of personal involvement. His eyebrow quirked upwards just slightly, but on his otherwise-calm face the change in expression was noticeable. He thought he knew what she was asking, and was surprised by her boldness. But he would reply in kind. "Are you asking me if I will fuck you, Mandy-san?"

He looked her over, down to her feet and then back up. She was an attractive woman, after all, in peak physical condition. Her curves were noticeable but not exaggerated, and her gear hugged her body tightly. He met her eyes again, waiting for her reply.

 

[Mandy]

Mandy’s smile widened, a slow, predatory curve of her lips that made her look less like a woman and more like a huntress who had just cornered her prey. The formal title, "Mandy-san," was a subtle nod to her professionalism, a playful mix of respect and casual intimacy. She moved closer to him, the rustle of her bodysuit a soft whisper in the quiet park.

“I am, Satoru,” she affirmed, her voice a low purr. She let her gaze sweep over his form, appreciating the way his impeccable suit draped over his toned physique, a fellow warrior whose body was as much a weapon as his mind. “In our line of work, we don't have the luxury of settling down or of lasting relationships. It's best to find pleasure wherever one can, don't you think? To have a partner who understands the visceral thrill of the kill and the brutal reality of our lives... that’s something special.”

As she spoke, she reached for the collar of her jacket and slowly unzipped it, revealing the flawless, unblemished skin of her neck and chest. She was a canvas of biological perfection, the result of a fortune poured into her own body. A stark contrast to his own augmented form, a promise of a different kind of pleasure, one that was purely organic and untainted by chrome.

“You have a beautiful body too, Satoru,” she said, her voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “I can appreciate that, especially one that has been honed to perfection. And I’d love to see what you can do with it.”

 

[commanderShepard]

Satoru's eyes followed the movement of her zipper as it sank lower, lower, until her navel was visible. The fabric of her jacket peeled open down the middle, revealing more and more cleavage but keeping the best parts hidden. She really was perfect, he thought as he saw her incredible skin and figure. He would be a fool not to take her up on the offer, and of course he had needs of his own to fulfill.

"I would be happy to show you exactly what I can do with it," he replied evenly. Yet he reached out with his biological hand, slipping his fingers under the edge of her jacket so it slipped off her breast, revealing it fully. His palm wrapped around her, kneading her in his hand. He met her gaze again as he touched her, curious what her reaction would be.

 

[Mandy]

Mandy stood perfectly still, a silent testament to her control. Her gaze never wavered from his, and a low hum of assent rumbled in her throat. The feel of his fingers on her warm skin sent a shiver through her, but she held her position, her body a canvas for his touch. She felt a flicker of heat as his hand closed around her breast, her nipple growing hard in his grasp.

She leaned in, her tailored pheromones flooding the humid air with a musky scent of arousal and raw power. "My biggest secret," she whispered, her voice a low, husky sound, "is that strong men who've proven they can take care of themselves get to use me however they want."

She let her body respond to his touch, her hips subtly swaying as she pressed herself closer. The hum of her suprathyroid gland increased, a physical manifestation of her rising arousal, fueling the fire within. She was a weapon, and she was a woman, and in this moment, they were one and the same, and she was his to claim.