After that…what then?
Sure, Emilia could leak evidence that might get JoAnne publicly condemned, forcing Biotechnica to abandon her, too. But that wouldn't help Emilia get back into Biotechnica, either. Without the corp's protection, she wouldn't last a month in Night City.
As she stewed over this dilemma, a call flashed on her phone – from an unfamiliar number.
"Who is it?" she said warily.
A young man's voice answered, "Emilia Morton?"
"Yeah? And who the hell are you? If you're not talking, I'm hanging up."
"If I were you, I wouldn't hang up. I'm here to help. Word is Biotechnica kicked you to the curb, revoked your apartnt access, froze your accounts. My guess: you're hiding in so slum right now, scared out of your mind."
"You bastard! Did that bitch JoAnne send you just to rub it in?"
"No, like I said, I'm here to help."
"How?"
"You used to work alongside JoAnne, right? You must have sothing on her—so dirt, evidence. I want it."
Emilia grew suspicious. "You 'want it,' so I have to give it? Why should I hand anything over to you?"
"Because then you'd help bring down that 'bitch' JoAnne. Isn't that reason enough for you to collaborate with ?"
He paused, then added, "Not to ntion, I can offer you a job."
A…job?
Emilia's mind raced. She had no clue who this was or how they got her number, but if they thought she'd just roll over, they were mistaken. She let out a cold laugh.
"I'm not about to go work for so Scav."
"Scav? No, no, no. You're mistaken. I'm talking about working for a fixer."
"A fixer?" Emilia echoed. She'd half-expected a gang or Scav group, since they were notorious for picking up 'fallen' corp employees. But a fixer…
"Listen, does the na 'Rogue' ring a bell? The so-called 'Queen of The Afterlife,' the top fixer in Night City?"
"Rogue?"
Even corporate employees knew that na—nearly legendary.
Emilia sneered. "I thought you were with a corp, but you're just so rc working under Rogue? She sent you to sweet-talk ? If this is about the phone—pfft."
Even so, she felt a twinge of pique. Rogue's formidable, sure, but compared to a gacorp? She doubted that.
The voice on the phone chuckled. "Emilia, do you really think you're in any position to be picky right now? You're not a departnt head or lead researcher—just a regular gene engineer. What corporation's gonna swoop in personally to scoop you up?
You're overestimating yourself."
That made her flinch. True enough: if she'd been soone like Diana Kuno or JoAnne Koch, other corps might fight to hire her, since a top-level Biotechnica executive would have inside knowledge worth serious eddies. But Emilia? Apart from blackmail material on JoAnne, she had no major leverage. And that blackmail alone wasn't super valuable to other corporations. Her actual skill set, while good, was hardly enough for a corp to bend over backwards just for one mid-level engineer.
"Fine. I'll work for Rogue," Emilia muttered at last, "but only if I can negotiate salary and conditions with her face-to-face. And I want 200k eurodollars up front as a signing bonus."
"No problem. We'll et in person and you can work out your deal with Rogue before handing over any intel. But I'd say you have little to fear—this is Rogue we're talking about."
"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure," Emilia grumbled. "Where do we et?"
"You wanted to talk to Rogue directly, so obviously The Afterlife. Unless you want a quiet roadside motel or so out-of-the-way place like Sunset Motel in the Badlands, or Stone Ridge out past city limits. Your call."
"Fine—Sunset Motel. I want Rogue to co herself, alone."
"…Listen, Auntie, we're all adults here. Could you not say stupid, childish things? 'Alone'? Do you realize who Rogue is and who you are? You're in no position to demand that she walk in unguarded. That's plain ridiculous."
"Au—Auntie?!" Emilia fud. "Watch your mouth! And it's not 'ridiculous'—"
"Sure it is. Are you forgetting you're a powerless ex-corpo with no backup, while she's Night City's top fixer? Co on. You're not a big enough fish to dictate that.
Choose a et spot, but let's keep it real."
After much heated back-and-forth, Emilia finally agreed Rogue could bring a small security detail. They settled on the "No-Tell Motel," Room 106.
…
*In The Afterlife's private lounge…*
Maine's crew—splayed out on various sofas—listened as Leo finished the call. He'd patched them all into the sa comm channel, so they heard his entire exchange with Emilia. Once he hung up, they exchanged glances.
"You're really gonna bother Rogue over this?" Maine blurted. The rest shared similar astonishnt. This was Rogue, the most legendary fixer in Night City.
They might have enough clout to be allowed in The Afterlife—so grudging respect from the city's rcenaries—but that didn't give them any direct access to the Queen herself. Having a seat at The Afterlife's bar was one thing; holding a conversation with its top boss was quite another. And yet Leo not only knew her personally but seed on friendly terms? It blew their minds.
"Co on," Maine insisted. "We could probably sort this out ourselves, right? Why drag her into it?"
But Leo didn't explain; his gaze fell on a stranger sitting beside Rebecca—a blonde woman in a crimson jacket, wearing a pink steel half-mask. A half-smoked cigarette stuck out from a gap in her mask.
"You're Kiwi, right?" Leo asked.
She nodded. Kiwi was the new netrunner Maine had recruited after Sasha was injured. She wasn't exactly warm and outgoing, but she'd heard a lot about Leo's exploits from the rest of the team—how he'd introduced them to a better ripperdoc, let them buy advanced weapons and gear on loan, and even sold them high-end tech.
Thanks to him, they had an impressive arsenal of tech weapons, Emrich's custom ballistic suits, and Maine's and Dorio's powered arm bracers. The netrunner was no fool—she knew how indebted the team was to Maine . So when he spoke to her, she promptly extended her hand in greeting, polite and friendly despite her usual reticence.
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