November 10th, 2038

PM 01:59:57


"As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."


Something that wasn't often discussed in media coverage and short morning briefings is the psychology of warfare.

How hiding your face from your opponent makes you seem more than human, or not human at all. How a uniform can be intimidating for those being chased by it, but also invigorating to the person wearing it. How a signature red command truck can clear a section of rioters because of a reputation.

With a line of horses charging towards you from the farthest end of "no man's land" while another ran the opposite direction…

The psychology of warfare told you that the rioters were starting to panic.

They tripped over each other in their retreat. The ones who weren't taking selfies or recording themselves, others, anything; lashed out with a mob mentality because in their eyes, they were no longer individually responsible for their actions.

In their eyes, they were carrying out a sacred duty; able to do what the police weren't capable of:

Purging the streets of deviancy.

An officer blocked her head with a small arm-mounted shield, glass popping and sprinkling down. The front legs of her horse swayed, its sheer size being enough to keep at least a foot of distance between the line of Calvary and the violent protest.

LMILLER: "Captain Allen was right…the androids aren't doin' a damn thing except hollerin' out. Didn't even try to resist when the calv started takin' steps at 'em."

LLASTIMOSA: "We'll worry about them after we get our own kind to get their shit together."

Your knee was bouncing. You flexed your fingers, the shield's heavy handle in one palm – your baton in the other. Both tools were extended and ready to engage, no matter how much you were hoping you wouldn't have to use them in conjunction.

Lastimosa had gone over the Marauders' insertion tactics – centered around intimidation, fear, and projected psychological whiplash. Two trucks with their ends facing each other hid you, ready to pull forward and expose your position.

You were the soldiers in the Trojan Horse, ready to pour in.

You and 9 others weren't just going to be on the front line, you were going to be the front line.

But before Liera fell in rank; before she started giving out orders to proceed…

She turned to the squad, raising a fist in the air and shouting through an amplifier to project her voice over the chants coming from behind the trucks.

"WE HAVE GATHERED HERE TODAY TO LAUNCH A SPEAR-HEADED ASSAULT AT THE EAST AND WEST ENDS OF THIS ACT OF VIOLENCE AGAINST THE CITY AND STATE!"

The frontline bashed their shields with their batons, a gruff "HOO-" leading to the stomping of boots.

A smile curved on your lips, and you didn't feel guiltyabout it.

Not even when the angry chants of rioters ceased, and their whispers of concern gave way to peeking heads and fearful eyes.

"THEY CAN CALL US TRAITORS TO HUMANITY!"

Liera pointed to the humans' side.

"THEY CAN CALL US UNGREATFUL ENSLAVERS!"

Then she pointed to the androids.

"BUT WHO. ARE. WE?"

She was the leader of this legal gathering, the army of 10 that was about to unleash their own battle cry:

"RIOT CONTROL!"

One louder than "No More Androids," a petty attempt at conveying public opinion. More powerful than "We Are People," because being humane wouldn't put this kind of madness to a stop.

"AND UNITED-"

"HOO!" Clank.

"WE-"

"HOO!" Clank.

"STAND!"

"HOO, HOO, HOO!" Clank. Clank. Clank.

Liera clicked the side of her helmet, her visor hiding her face before she fell in line and disappeared behind you.

LLASTIMOSA: "SHIELDS!"

The city shrank into the eye-level window cut in your shield as your shoulder rolled, placing it in front of you. Your breathing and the licking of your lips filled your ears. The ends of the trucks came and went between hot gusts frosting your visor.

Their engines roared, and the knobby tires with deep treads dug into the asphalt as they began to turn. Pebbles scraped against the road. Rocks cracked underneath the weight.

They were the 16-ton curtain being drawn to reveal the prize the rioters had earned – you, and the others armed to the teeth that bridged the gap between both vehicles.

The initial shock from the crowd was short-lived…

The impending doom in their features, however, wasn't.

It was a terrifying sensation, striking this kind of fear into the hearts of the same civilians you'd taken oaths for.

LLASTIMOSA: "PUSH UP!"

It was a simple procedure, really. To take a step forward, beat your shield with your baton, and shout along with the chorus of voices like you'd practiced.

To them, on the other side…it must've been menacing.

Just not menacing enough to keep them at bay…

Because impulse was another fear response, and it ran rampant through the crowd as they charged.

LLASTIMOSA: "Here they come – BRACE!"

Angry fists and rolling bodies beat your shield, the kinetic energy flowing through your arm to the handle as blood-thirsty howls were aimed at a Godless sky.

Your head whipped to the side, smacked by something heavy that'd been thrown from beyond your field of vision. Droplets coated your visor as you shook your head, straightened your shoulders, and pushed back.

"FUCK YOU!" A man hollered, his breath fogging the glass that kept your eyes under lock and key.

You ground your teeth, braced yourself – and he kicked off your shield.

He stumbled backwards, caught by his comrades and thrown back into the fight.

CMILLER: "You good up there?!"

You sucked in wet air, holding it there before letting it out in sync with another shove.

"As-good-as-I'm-gonna-be-"

Your words were weighted, breathless – mashed together in a sad excuse for an answer.

But you didn't need words to finally get your message across to the mob; that they weren't fucking getting past you.

They took small steps backwards, even if they were pacing and watching you like they were waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

The army of hidden eyes and scarved faces. Of leather jackets and puffy coats – of moms, wives, sisters; of fathers, husbands, and brothers…just like the police marching right beside you.

But they, were on the wrong side of the law.

The rebel army that you'd protect by teaching them a harsh lesson on restraint.

"UNITED!"

Riot Control shouted.

"WE!"

You joined them, cranking your baton around your side with adrenaline-fueled vigor. Your HUD flashed with a message.

!WARNING!

Heavy impact taken to shield's [FRONT] panel.

You ignored it, taking a step forward.

"STAND!"

Certain shouts became piercing as the rioters' heads turned on a swivel.

[31] RROYAL: "AND DIVIDED!"

Your eyes narrowed, cocking your head to the side as an unfamiliar voice came through the comms…but the microphone picked up a loud noise from the opposite end of the riot in the form of a squiggling line.

"WE!"

You smirked at the chant the other insertion team bellowed.

"AMBUSH!"

There was a disturbance behind the rioters, and they didn't know how to react. Didn't know which group of police officers to focus on.

Sensory overload alongside swift brute force – another Marauder tactic.

[31] RROYAL: "Almost at the rendezvous point, 32!"

LLASTIMOSA: "Welcome to the party, 31."

[31] RROYAL: "Ah, Liera…Of course you're out here in this shit."

CGRENIER: "Clear the channel, we've got a runner!"

An aerial view from Widget showed a woman with a scarf dangling to her knees and a tank top giving way to dirt-smudged arms. You wondered if she was cold, but immediately jumped to more troubling matters. Her hands were fastened around a long pole, a tattered United States' flag waving in the wind.

Her animal-like features were electrifying as she grew closer…and closer…and closer, until the pole was lowered like a joust.

[CPT] DALLEN: "VEGA!"

[K-9] JVEGA: "Releasing Vector-5, Captain."

She didn't crack when the deep barks started, or the pitter-patter of nails tapping along the pavement.

You planted the side of your fist along the inside of your shield, your baton sticking out as your forearms met; ready to take the brunt of the javelin taking aim…

The woman didn't get the chance to launch it.

Massive paws replaced her shoulders, pinning them down; outfitted in a four-legged variant of a DPD POLICE vest…

An android canine with eyes like dying stars lighting up the earrings hanging from the sides of the subdued woman's face; a cosmic blue under tight-knit fur and sinking brows. Hot steam puffed through a nose matching the color of dark matter above scrunching lips. Saliva dripped and formed glowing dust trails as each fang parted like asteroids from a belt.

[K-9] JVEGA: "Hostile secure. Moving in."

[CPT] DALLEN: "32, form up and cover Vega for retrieval."

The dog's neck ripped back and forth, holding the woman down with its weight and clamping grip. It wasn't long before the shield-line passed them, and his handler moved in to cuff the bleeding rioter, followed by loving ear scratches and wagging tails.

CMILLER: "Man, I want one of those pups…"

You smirked, remembering his fond conversation about the old K-9 unit and treats. Wondered what kind of money CyberLife dropped making the robot hounds versus what they charged for them. Came to the conclusion it didn't matter much, because they were effective.

[31] TCHEN: "We've got another one, Captain!"

[CPT] DALLEN: "In pursuit-"

A man had broken through, and Captain Allen made it a personal matter.

He was at the ready, heels digging into his horse as he took on a perfect riding stance over extending legs that rippled in a dark sheen, the padded muscles projecting heaving strides and digging hooves further. A wild flurry of strands of hair, and a tossing mane. The clearing of distance and a baton-armed limb raising from the rest of the rider's body like the wing of an eagle…

And it swooped down. Knocked the man to the ground.

Allen yanked the reins and slid off his horse, landing with his knee in the man's back and cuffs already in hand.

[CPT] DALLEN: "Nearest Arrest Officer, on my location!"

[29] CBROWN: "Copy that."

He slipped through the mounted-police-border, grabbing the man and hauling him towards a truck.

LLASTIMOSA: "32, eyes forward!"

The rioters parted, a shield marking the tip of the second spear and the team behind him breaking through.

[31] RROYAL: "Damn, you guys beat us."

AMAYUMI: "Are you surprised?"

LLASTIMOSA: "His ego's hurt, leave him alone."

She sent out a notification, your HUD flashing with moving diagrams. You were singled out, your assigned position flashing red.

LLASTIMOSA: "Front Echelon – prepare to merge with Unit 31 as per onscreen instructions, over!"

The foremost shield-bearers turned on their heels towards each border of the separated crowd. The left sides of either team joined in a rushed assault, and the right did the same. You almost tripped over yourself shuffling in place, your shield catching the edge of someone less coordinated than you. Even still, your link in the wall was chained.

Your leg barred behind you as another body collided with your metal barrier, hurling an insult over the top.

Your arms were heavy. You were tired.

This was all bullshit.

You wanted to lay around the house and be lazy with Connor – to be able to let the world know you were with him, and loved him – wanted himwith you. Wanted to drink too much in your apartment and make an ass out of yourself when you'd try to dance with him. Wanted to cook meals together, and watch movies together, maybe even play a game. Take a vacation.

Travel.

Your job, your life, didn't permit that kind of downtime…

Because androids weren't the only beings "Made in Detroit."

LLASTIMOSA: "LET'S PROCEED SLOWLY!"

[31] RROYAL: "YOU HEARD HER! PUSH FORWARD!"

But Detroit didn't raise its young to shy away from danger, or to give up when obstacles seemed insurmountable...

No.

When you bite at Detroit, Detroit bites back; with fangs in the form of riot shields and batons - of MILITIA gear and a line formed shoulder-to-shoulder.

DPD, the snapping jaws of a city that was tired of everyone's bullshit.

You blacked out long enough to miss the conscious decision to put all your frustrated strength into a retaliating shove propelled by a roar.

You swung your baton up and over your shoulder, the loud crack of shattering bone and paperwork that would be delivered to your desk following human-on-human violence.

And as you fought through the writhing bodies and abandoned hopes, widening the vacant section with streaks of blood, sweat, and tears running down the window cut in your shield…As you ducked your head and snaked your neck, dodging rebellious debris that happened to slip over…

Your newfound sense of responsibility overrode your desire to be free of your programmed restraints.

LLASTIMOSA: "Cooper, watch your feet – straggler on the ground."

JCOOPER: "Already have him in cuffs, sis."

CGRENIER: "Need some help on the south front!"

STALON: "Copy that. Captain Allen, permission to deploy crowd control."

[CPT] DALLEN: "Do what you need to do, Talon."

STALON: "Rodger that. Grenier, stand by."

CGRENIER: "Eyes up 32, TWELVE O'CLOCK!"

A bottle, filled halfway with a t-shirt stuffed down the neck, spun from a perfect toss. Flaming hair met the other end, blue and hot and ready to burn flesh and bone.

CGRENIER: "Widget's not gonna make it for interception!"

STALON: "Liam, get ready!"

LMILLER: "Cue me up, Talon!"

A hallowed "thump" came from behind you, and you turned your head only a notch to see the once-gentle woman holding what looked like a cannon on her hip. She leaned back, feet apart to balance herself; wrapped her hand around the barrel, pointed the nose to the sky, and kept the stock steady.

STALON: "Fire in the hole!"

Sparks and discharge followed the pull of a trigger. Your eyes followed a soaring cannister, passing the Molotov cocktail in the air like missiles trading high-fives.

The riot disappeared in a mess of smoke.

A crack pierced the cold air – a hot boom of thunder leading up to a pop of glass blending in with snowflakes as it sprinkled down. There was a splash of liquid and a wall of fire that blossomed along the oil-slicked street.

LMILLER: "Scoped, and, dropped."

You squinted as the thermal vision of your visor corrected itself, pin-pointing the smoke-screened bodies that ran blindly into the back barricade.

STALON: "Prepping another one for you guys, Grenier."

LLASTIMOSA: "Front Echelon, push forward and hold the line. We need to give her time to help them!"

Another set of orders you carried out willingly…

Because with this kingdom under siege, you'd stormed the castle. Had breached straight into the badlands of Grand Circus Park.

An attraction of performers and caged animals that outraged against their current living conditions. A montage of acrobatics, iron jaws, Icarus dashes, and phoenix dives through the flames that engulfed flipping thoughts and spiraling hate.

As the rioters were funneled through the Hot Gates of Detroit by the Spartan Warriors pushing them back; a last stand made by those tasked with keeping force multipliers tallied and the body count low – either harmed by others or themselves…

A new challenge presented itself through the tear-gas.

The hidden audience that wasn't running for cover. The most cooperative of all those who'd gathered in the park.

Fingers flexed, heels rocked, and shoulders rolled nervously.

You turned your head – eyes opening and closing, sweat dropping from your lashes. Lungs inhaling and exhaling; mind refocusing on the peaceful protest that watched on with significantly less wear and tear than humanity.

United, you stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of your kind – amidst the other people who had families to return to, orders to carry out, and a city to salvage.

And yet, divided from the choice of neutrality…

You feared an inevitable ambush.


Behind the Scenes

(Links on AO3)


Inspired by "No Church in the Wild" music video.

"Scoped and dropped," quote taken from Garrus in Mass Effect.

JVEGA (James Vega) name taken from Mass Effect.

"Let's proceed slowly," quote taken from Monty in R6.


Guest Review Responses:

UnknownFan: Hello, and welcome! Thank you for taking the time to read my story and leave this lovely review :) Also, thank you so much for the compliments. I'm super happy to hear that you're invested in my work, because I most certainly am invested in making sure it stays current and interesting.
The comment about Gavin made me smile especially - he's such an unexplored character in the game, as well as the rest of the DPD, and I enjoy giving them stories and a real place within the story. There's actually a piece of fanart on AO3 of the picture they took, it's so great! I'll admit, I thought about framing it haha, so I totally get that.
Can't talk too much on Connor's return, but I'm glad their little moments drove home and ended up with you being a "giggling fangirling mess." ;)
Thanks again for this, it really made my night.
Hope you enjoyed the update, and thank you for the well wishes!


A/N: Hope you all had a great start to the New Year and a wonderful holiday! Love you guys, sorry it took so long! Work is finally ramping down!