057: The Leader

John walked under the crane.
The driver's seat was empty.
Nearby stood a container-turned-cabin equipped with a sliding magnetic suction door. It was unlocked, and a gentle push opened it. There lay Talia in her jacket, gripping a gun tightly on the floor.
"What the hel—"
John thought he had stumbled into a homicide scene.
Just as he was about to initiate a scan, the girl suddenly rolled her eyes and propped herself up.
"If you're not dead, why are you lying on the floor?"
John dropped his bag, braced his hands on his knees, and asked, "We literally spoke on the phone a few hours ago, but you look like you're about to fucking die right now, and you're holding a gun?"
"You're... oh, John, that was fast."
Talia looked at the kinetic revolver in her hand—thickened barrel, composite grip, lateral pressure relief chamber, exuding a deformed aesthetic favored by modification maniacs.
She aimed it at her own forehead and pulled the trigger.
The chamber was empty.
"Drinking too much last night makes me want to die."
"Then go to sleep."
"Are you serious? Look outside, John, what a gorgeous day! Low sand content, pleasant temperature, great visibility. This is the exact kind of weather to head out into the wasteland and blow up a band of outcasts."
Talia almost vomited as she tried to stand up.
Using her gun-wielding hand to steady herself against John's shoulder, she slurred her description:
"Strip those beasts of their gear and cyberware, dump the looted crates right at our feet, drink booze while opening boxes—how fucking awesome is that? If I lie down to sleep now, all this time is completely wasted!"
Even through his neck gaiter, John caught a weird smell.
"Are you high?"
"Good stuff I brewed myself."
She pointed at the bottles and jars scattered across the desk. "Concentrated stimulants combined with a powerful sleep aid. I handed the choice over to my own body; if I'm sober, I go out to work, and if I fall asleep, I cherish life."
"Based on street experience, homemade drugs usually don't end well."
"Yeah, I'm living proof. Right now, my flesh has completely tapped out, but my soul is still breakdancing inside my brain."
Talia gesticulated wildly.
"They've reached a delicate balance inside me, but I feel so fucking miserable I want to put a bullet through my head."
[Quest Objective Updated]
[Help Talia sober up, and take her out to work. (Optional)]
[Help Talia rest, and go discuss with Nando. (Optional)]
The quest offered two choices.
John had no desire to go joyriding with a high-as-a-kite lunatic, so he pulled a sedative out of his medical kit.

"Let me give you an idea. Since the drugs are in balance, let's just flip the scale over. My recommendation is to rest."
"Fuck, fine, whatever you say."
Pfft—
John raised his hand and jammed the syringe straight into her neck.
Talia swayed slightly, took two steps back, and crashed onto the floor.
John picked her up, dumped her onto the bed, and stared at the unhinged Russian girl with a profound sense of speechlessness.
"The client is asleep. What a fucking joke."
He headed out, walked north, and found Nando busy in front of the mainframe.
"Route control system? Impressive. I've seen high-end gear like this at Iron State Logistics, where corporations use it to manage multiple transport lines."
"You know your stuff, John."
Nando leaned against the table, a data cable extending from his arm to connect to the mainframe. His cybernetic eyes flickered as he immersed himself in complex data.
"The camp has expanded its personnel, and our business scope and workload have multiplied several times over. Orders are piled high—all intercity transport or armed escort gigs."
Nando explained, "We spent a pretty penny to acquire a mainframe to manage wasteland transport orders as well as city-side operations."
Nando was managing the Damascus Camp in a flourishing manner.
"What do you guys do in the city?"
"I've established connections with a few local kingpins and signed short-term contracts with several construction sites. We just need to procure some engineering equipment and get our people embedded."
"Damn, that's impressive. How'd you pull that off?"
"We registered a shell company, handled things through subcontracting, and of course, shared profits with the local kingpins. Overall, it's profitable—at least it lets everyone live a decent life."
Nando briefly introduced the situation to John.
The camp currently held a massive population.
Members with specialized skills contributed their intellect at construction sites or participated in other business ventures, while the remaining family members stayed in the camp to handle vehicle and equipment maintenance, as well as care for the children and the elderly.
John listened in admiration.
"I assumed you became boss because you could fight."
"Sorting out business operations certainly isn't my strong suit, but what can you do? The camp is full of either geniuses or desperate idiots. Someone has to step up and call the shots, right?"
Nando unplugged the data cable.
He retrieved two bottles of beer from the condensation tank.
Reminded of Talia, John let out a helpless, dry chuckle and said, "Everyone in the camp trusts you. They feel like Nando can cover any mess, so they can afford to be recklessly stupid."
"You've met Talia, haven't you?"
Nando could easily guess who it was.
"I originally planned to sort things out before calling you, but she got as antsy as a kid before a holiday."
"What's the job actually about? Give me the details."

"How much do you know about Iron-Foot Konbu?"
John recalled the missions he had done, knowing only that:
He was a leader of a wasteland outcasts faction, had some connections with Salazi, and had teamed up with ghouls to raid Plato's warehouse.
According to Nando's description, the resources inside that warehouse were enough to arm a small military force, featuring various experimental cyberware, test-stage weapons, heavily armored robots, and miscellaneous items.
"No wonder Plato lost his mind. The news reports were still conservative."
"Nothing on TV is accurate except for the time."
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Iron-Foot Konbu annexed independent outcast groups and their business operations along the city's outskirts.
The corporation issued a hefty bounty for his head.
Driven out of the urban zone, he hid in the wasteland and began locking horns with the thriving Damascus Camp. Old grievances and new hatreds compounded, triggering frequent large-scale firefights between the two sides.
"Talia definitely didn't explain it clearly to you."
Nando's expression turned serious. "Konbu has stuffed excessive cyberware into his subordinates' bodies and overclocked them using special methods. The weapons he stole from Plato's warehouse are also extremely dangerous, so this job won't be easy."
He chugged the rest of his beer and lit a cigar.
"Just as we've finally managed to secure a foothold, this bastard is trying to uproot the whole table."
"Do you know where Konbu is?"
John figured the matter was fairly straightforward.
If they had exact coordinates, they could simply pass them to a fixer or Plato and let the corporate dogs crush him directly.
"Konbu is hiding very well. He runs his operations through remote methods. Our target this time is a transport station hoarding looted goods. According to reliable intelligence, the goods are scheduled to be transferred into the city tomorrow noon to be fenced through the black market."
Less than 24 hours remained before the operation deadline.
Nando frowned, turned around, and asked.
"Why hasn't Talia replied?"
"She's high."
"We have a convoy on standby tonight. If you want to move now, I'll have Benjamín go with you. With two heavy machine guns for cover, our personnel and firepower will be more than sufficient."
Those personnel had an important transport mission tomorrow, and the client was in a rush. If they delayed until dawn, they would have to abandon the plan to raid the transport station.
Nando paused for a moment and offered an alternative choice.
"Talia has been handling this matter the whole time. She knows the specifics and has been preparing for a long time. You could wait for her to sober up tomorrow morning and take whatever idle personnel are available to test the waters. That way, our manpower and firepower will be halved. If you can't handle it, run—don't throw lives away there. Dying for a bunch of goods isn't worth it."
[Quest Progress Updated]
[Raid the transport station at night with Nando's convoy. (Optional)]
[Wait for Talia and attack in the morning. (Optional)]