Once upon a time, Alena Xenakis had wanted to be a braindance actress. Growing up in the Los Angeles slums, it might have seemed like a pipe dream… and yet, she'd gone for it. Oh how she'd fucking gone for it. She'd put her nose to the grindstone, auditioned with every studio in fucking town… and gotten absolutely nowhere.
Her aspirations didn't mean shit to the corpo scumbags who controlled the braindance industry. All that mattered was whether she had that 'it' factor. All that mattered was whether she had the talent to make them eddies. Most of all, all that mattered was whether she would put out for them or not to get her big break. And she hadn't.
Maybe if she could go back and do it all again, she would. Getting down on her knees or spreading her legs to get her foot in the door might have been preferable to the life she'd lived if it had all worked out for her. But the Alena who had just gotten out of the slums had thought she could make it without. And by the time she realized how wrong she was, it was already too late. Word had already spread about how… 'difficult' she was.
It didn't matter that she was as skilled as any of her peers. It didn't matter that she put thousands of hours into training herself to be the best actress she could be. People like her, the hard workers, the overachievers… they were unremarkable in an industry like that. And she'd poisoned the well early on by not being 'amicable' enough.
She'd been just about ready to give up until finally, she'd gotten her 'lucky break'. Except it wasn't a lucky break at all. The braindance studio she eventually joined, the first in literally hundreds that proved willing to sign her… was a front for the Federal Intelligence Agency.
At that point, she'd already been half-chewed up. Maybe that's why she'd ultimately signed on when Solomon Reed recruited her. The FIA didn't want anything from her except for her skills, and that was better than what the slimy fucks in the legitimate braindance studios wanted… right?
Sometimes she wondered. Sometimes, as she came up on yet another year in this shitty bar in Dogtown, Alena wondered if maybe she should have just fucking spread her legs all those years ago.
The door to The Moth, her own little slice of hell, slides open all of the sudden and admits two new visitors. She gives them both a once over from behind the bar and has to admit, she likes what she sees. The guy is a bit average-looking at first glance, as well as a little short, but a deeper inspection shows he carries himself extremely well.
Meanwhile, the woman that's with him is… well, drop dead gorgeous would not be an overstatement. She's beautiful and she knows it too, rocking some seriously retro clothes that she nevertheless pulls off without looking like a poser. She's got this familiar face though, like Alena has seen it in passing before…
The two sit down at the bar side by side and Alena falls right back into the act. She's not Alena Xenakis here after all. She hasn't been Alena for a long, long time. Even the FIA knows her as Alex.
But right now, she's Daphne, the sweet-as-pie hardass of a woman who owns The Moth, the only bar in a rundown portion of Dogtown known as Longshore Stacks. With that in mind, she steps up to the counter and gives them both a smile.
"Hey there, darlings! Can I get you anything?"
The man smiles with a strange tinge of nostalgia.
"Surprise us."
Affecting a giggle, 'Daphne' nods.
"Two house specials then! Coming right up!"
She moves away to prepare the two drinks, but her attention remains on the pair of newcomers even as she turns her back on them. She's hooked into the security feed of the bar after all, specifically the hidden cameras that none of her patrons know about because they're way too advanced for someone like her cover to be able to afford.
This means she can watch the man and woman while preparing their drinks blind, something that isn't particularly difficult for her after running this bar for going on seven years now. They're mostly quiet, sharing an amused look before mostly watching her.
Now to be fair, they might be watching her because they want to make sure she doesn't slip anything in their drinks. They might just be watching her because they don't have anything better to do but wait for said drinks. Or they might be watching her because they're on the prowl looking for a third to proposition.
It wouldn't be the first time 'Daphne' got pulled into a threesome with an already committed relationship. Wouldn't be the first time it happened to Alex or Alena either. Always the third wheel, never the commitment.
But for some reason, she feels like there's something more to it than that. Something… deeper.
Finally finishing the drinks, 'Daphne' comes back over and smiles brightly as she sets them down in front of the strange pair.
"There you go, sweethearts!"
And then, because it's perfectly within her rights as a bartender who has just served drinks to pry, 'Daphne' leans on the bar.
"You know, don't think I've ever seen either of you around here before. And if you don't mind me saying, you both look too good for a place like this as well. What brings you to Longshore Stacks of all places?"
They each take a drink of what she's prepared for them, something she appreciates even if this is all just a cover. It's a deep cover after all and as a consummate professional, if there's one thing she knows, it's how important real emotions can be to acting out an assignment.
"We're looking for someone, actually. Goes by the name of Alex."
She reacts of course, but only how she wants to react. No reaction at all would be giving the game away. Instead, 'Daphne' merely raises an eyebrow, humming for a moment before nodding along.
"Oh yeah?"
He just grins at her in a way she can't help but register as 'knowing'.
"Yeah. We'll have a gin-and-tonic… and make it a double."
Fuck if that wasn't one of her activation codes. If they hadn't said 'Alex' first, she wouldn't have bothered but… well, here they were. Face smoothing out, 'Daphne' pushes off the bar and steps away for a moment, forcing a bright smile onto her face.
"Sorry all my lovely people, but we're closing early tonight!"
There's some grumbling at that of course, even a couple of hecklers declaring 'they weren't going anywhere'. But no one actually tries to stay where they are. They know better than to fuck around with 'Daphne' too much. In the end, she just has to slam her hand down on the bar one more time with a slightly more forceful 'Everyone out!' and the last of the stragglers slink their way out of her door.
With The Moth cleared, 'Daphne' locks the door with a flick of her eyes before turning back to the two people still sitting at her bar.
"Alright, what do you need Alex for, exactly?"
The 'knowing' part of the man's smirk becomes a lot more prevalent as he downs the rest of the drink she made for him.
"Need your skills for a mission, actually. Straight from the President herself."
'Daphne' lets that wash over her for a moment. Both the fact that he knew exactly who she was and the fact that he'd supposedly been in contact with the President. Her eyes narrow but she lets her mask fall away all the same. No point in hiding at this point. The Behavioral Imprint-synced Faceplate that's been part of her life for more than half of it at this point cycles through and Daphne disappears as Alex returns.
Neither the man nor the woman are remotely surprised or even visibly impressed by this display, lending further credence to their claims so far.
"The President, huh?"
The man just nods.
"I'm sure you've been keeping abreast of the news. Would be rather hard for someone like you to miss what happened yesterday."
True. Alex just grunts and places her hands under the bar, one of them closing around the grip of the gun she has hidden there.
"That's right. Space Force One crashed in Dogtown yesterday. And you're claiming you spoke to Myers and she gave you a mission for me today. How does that work exactly? Where is she right now?"
The man just smiles. The woman, meanwhile, flashes her eyes. Alex responds immediately, her gun coming out from under the bar and pointed at them both unerringly even as she tries to figure out what the woman, probably a Netrunner, just did.
However, the instant the muzzle is pointed in their direction, the man blurs. Alex has a Sandevistan which she of course instinctively activates, except it refuses to engage. Her cyberware refuses to obey her order and she remains woefully slow as the man strips her firearm from her in a heartbeat.
"Shit!"
"-the attempt on my life by disgraced Colonel Kurt Hansen has left me unmarred and untouched."
Alex blinks. It had all happened so fast that when she hears Myers' voice behind her, she thinks for a moment that the woman is somehow there in the flesh. But then everything catches up and she turns to realize exactly what had happened. The gorgeous blonde's eyes had flickered because she'd turned on The Moth's only working television and changed it to the proper channel to show President Rosalind Myers holding a Press Conference live with NUSA flags arrayed behind her.
"His opportunism has done nothing but show him for the desperate dog he is. Running out of supplies, running out of resources, running out of time. He will-"
Alex stares for a moment before the TV flicks off again, causing her to turn back to the two individuals sitting at her bar. Two very skilled, very competent, and slightly frightening individuals.
Smiling at her, the man holds out her gun to her grip first, which she warily takes from him.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. But we're telling the truth. I'm the one who pulled Rosalind Myers out of the wreckage of Space Force One yesterday. We got her out of Dogtown early this morning and back to NUSA just a few hours ago."
Damn. Alex had seen the proof and she still had a hard time believing it. A day turnaround for the extraction of a VIP that hot was… well, it was something she wouldn't have thought possible.
"How have I never heard of either of you before?"
Were they hiding their faces like her? But the man just shakes his head.
"We're not with the FIA, we're mercs."
What?
"The name's V. This is Alt. Whoever betrayed Myers and locked Space Force One into a collision course with Dogtown kept them from contacting any outside support, so Songbird was forced to go for… unconventional help. That's where we came in."
Holy shit she needs to sit down. He's hitting her with way too much shit at once. Songbird? No, that made sense… Myers would keep So Mi close to her, like the damn favored pet she was. Still… Alex doesn't recognize the name V from anywhere. She DOES recognize the name Alt.
No wonder the blonde had looked familiar. She was a poser, one who had clearly modeled her entire look after Altiera Cunningham. Fuck, she was a damn good poser too, because Alex hadn't clocked her for even a second. Impressive.
Nodding respectfully in Alt's direction, Alex grunts.
"Preem work. Didn't clock you as a poser whatsoever… you're pretty fucking natural."
'Alt' raises a single sculpted eyebrow and smirks.
"Thank you for the compliment. Coming from someone like you, that's very much appreciated."
Turning her attention back to V, Alex flares her nostrils.
"Alright, say I believe you. Only thing I don't get is… why now? Why are you activating me for a mission if Myers is already out of danger and back behind our lines?"
V tilts his head to the side, humming.
"Because Songbird is still stuck in Dogtown, likely in the custody of Kurt Hansen himself at this point. And Myers wants her back… along with Hansen very, very dead."
Alex lets out an explosive breath at that. Fuck… yeah, that would do it. Well, she'd been bemoaning her sorry existence recently, hadn't she? Being 'Daphne' had never been remotely fulfilling. After working day and night to get her ass out of the slums all those years ago, she'd found herself stuck in another slum for the past several years, stuck catering to the same scum she'd been fleeing as a young woman.
So if nothing else, she had to be happy that something was finally happening. Plus… if they killed Hansen, Dogtown would almost certainly (hopefully) collapse without him. And then she'd be put on another assignment entirely. Maybe a tropical one, that'd be nice.
Of course, first they actually had to complete the mission. Putting her gun away, Alex plants her hands on her hips and purses her lips.
"… We're gonna need a damn good plan if we're hoping to get close enough to zero Hansen, let alone rescue Songbird, just so you know. Hansen is no slouch and Barghest has the Black Sapphire locked down like a fucking fortress."
V and 'Alt' exchange a glance before looking back at her with matching grins.
"Don't worry, Alex. We already have a plan."
Right. Well, hopefully it wasn't the kind that got them all killed. Fuck, this was almost enough to make her miss Reed… but no, can't start thinking that way. Reed was a fucking traitor who betrayed them all to Arasaka. Focus on the mission. Eye on the prize. Rescue So Mi, kill Hansen.
… Piece of fucking cake.