Chapter Fifty Nine
September 17th, 2077
Night City, Northern California
Arasaka Waterfront, Watson
The Arasaka Waterfront.
It is one of the most secure corporate holdings in Night City, second only to the spires of corporate plaza. Eliza remembers a time when this fortified port was little more than a single structure with a small security team guarding its merchandise.
No longer could the Sirens bury their heads in the dirt and ignore the world above their illustrious home. They have failed to uphold the basic tenants of their creed for over two decades, and to continue their isolation would do nothing but waste the lives already lost in their search for a world not dictated by corporate executives.
"It's been ages since our people returned to the surface in force." Thea Walcott, commander in chief of all Banshee operations in Night City, stood amongst a cluster of other Sirens looming over the Waterfront.
"Far too long." Eliza nodded, quietly instructing the nearby Banshees to photograph the corporate port for an intelligence packet to be delivered to Cyrus within the next few hours.
Her Spartan sibling corroborated a massive data file of Black Element firebases and outposts for a detailed list of priority targets for future incursions.
Cyrus wanted to expand upon this list by collecting Arasaka Security bases not affiliated with Yorinobu's mercenary corps. However, he lacked the manpower to execute these directives and resolved to put these objectives on the back burner until a more thorough power base was established within Night City.
Luckily for him, Eliza had over two thousand Banshees ready to serve, with another five thousand preparing for future deployments. Their numbers were low compared to other Night City groups, but each was worth ten corporate soldiers.
The Elder Council's vote to return to the surface of Night City was more than just a revival. It also resurrected their long-lost connections with political and economic figures that were once associated with the Siren Order
Councilor Eva Cole and City Manager Kourtney Morales were just a fraction of the Night City leadership that Eliza had at her beck and call, but they weren't the most prominent officials in the Siren's pocket.
That honor belonged to the enigmatic Gate Keepers that Eliza herself cultivated over the last fifteen years to be her eyes and ears inside the most powerful corporations and mercenary groups in Night City.
There were four of them in total, but their positions inside these prominent organizations were invaluable to anyone with a working brain.
Liana Sharp's status as an Afterlife Merc kept Eliza in the loop with everything on the mercenary side of Night City. Nothing ever truly happened without Rogue Amendiares knowing, and if she didn't have actionable intel on a subject of interest, one can be assured that this lack of knowledge wouldn't last long.
But her youngest adopted daughter wasn't the first point of contact that brought Arasaka Waterfront to Eliza's attention.
Mars, the eldest of her adopted sires, would be the most suited to surviving the dangers and fallacies of corporate work at the highest level.
"Mars was right," Eliza murmured to no one in particular, her mind occupied with scanning the port for all its faculties. "I'm tracking over three battalions worth of armored vehicles and just as many infantry. Black Element is moving a lot of manpower and equipment into Night City."
If she recalled, Cyrus had been making Black Element operations in Night City hell since he first broke onto the scene. The destruction of FOB Prism in Charter Hill shattered their cohesion and forced them into a defensive posture around Arasaka Tower.
By her estimations, this mass of manpower and equipment pouring into the Waterfront was in direct correlation to Cyrus's campaign of rapid dominance upon Black Element. In most cases, three battalions worth of mercenaries should have been enough to take down one Spartan.
Too bad there were two in Night City.
"All teams check-in and confirm visual confirmations." Eliza's voice echoed on the Banshee's encrypted comm channel. Four Banshee teams communicated their findings, ranging from new Arasaka Infantry units arriving on one of the few landing ships anchored in the harbor to fresh VTOLs barely off the factory line.
One team, in particular, drew Eliza's undivided attention.
"Gamma Team here. We're posted on the northwest corner of the Waterfront and located something you might be interested in. Streaming you our camera now." A visual feed popped up in the bottom right corner of Eliza's HUD, and her eyes preened with interest.
Stacked upon one another were blue crates with an emblem of a bipedal Warmachine emblazoned upon its side.
There were rumors of Arasaka developing experimental assault walkers to bolster their infantry forces, but they were supposed to be in a testing phase.
"Night City's just as good a testing ground if anything else." Eliza turned towards Commander Walcott. "Where's Beta team?"
An hour ago, a large formation of Arasaka transports departed the corporate port on an assumed direct route for Arasaka Tower. Instead, the convoy rolled into Japantown before beating a hasty pace into the Badlands for an undisclosed location.
Eliza dispatched Acadia and a team of Banshees to trail the convoy and mark its destination as a point of interest. They mounted a Phantom previously gifted by Chamber and caught up to the Arasaka convoy before inevitably going radio silent.
"Beta Actual, this is Fury. I need a sitrep over." After a few moments of tense silence, Acadia responded.
"Fury, this is Beta Actual. We are thirty miles from the city limits and still tracking the convoy pushing east at 65 km/h."
"Understood. Continue tracking the convoy and-." Eliza's words suddenly stopped when MJOLNIR's emergency beacon activated.
A missive scrawled across her hud sent an alarming chill down her neck.
ONI SECURITY PROTOCOL AS-556. ROGUE AI IS WITHIN OPERATIONAL DISTANCE. REPORT FOR EMERGENCY DEPLOYMENT.
"Fuck." A single word summarized Eliza's feelings, but she didn't have time to dwell on this directive. "All teams, we are terminating this operation. Hard copy your files and return to Solaria immediately for debriefing."
"Alpha copies all, pushing to evac points now."
"Gamma team returning to base."
Eliza didn't wait to hear the other team's relays and immediately established a direct channel with Acadia.
"Beta Actual mark the convoy's last location and push to these coordinates."
"Beta copies." Fury directed Walcott and the other Banshees to pack up their surveillance equipment while she made for her personal Phantom. "What's happening, mother?"
"I'm not sure," Eliza replied, ducking her head into the transports cargo bay and activating its thrusters. "But I know your uncle is going to need our help. "
She just hoped it wasn't Chamber that went rogue.
l==l
September 18th, 2077
Night City, Northern California
I-49 Bridge, Heywood
The last few months of Gillean Jordan's tenure in Night City have been nothing more than a wet dream for your average reporter, and every day brought new and enticing developments that launched the network's ratings into the stratosphere.
Coincidentally, her paycheck followed its skyrocketing trajectory, and the money just kept on rolling until it reached a point where she didn't know what to do with it all.
Between Cypher's declaration of war on corruption, the NCPD siege, and the fall of Night Corp, she's been on the air well into the night reporting these mind-boggling events.
Gillean may not have particularly cared for the Headhunter's crusade, but she couldn't deny that she had a vested interest in his continued survival.
Hell, she would have joined his fan club already if she didn't have to worry about Arasaka hit squads. Her colleagues were less enthused about Cypher, but everyone knew that he was the most enticing story in Night City.
At least, that was before Pacifica went to hell.
It began with a sudden power outage that consumed both Coast View and West Wind in darkness. In most cases, this predicament was a common occurrence that the Voodoo Boys fixed without anyone in Night City being the wiser.
However, when the blackout rolled into its second hour, reports of a mass riot began to surface, and it threatened to spread into Santo Domingo and Heywood.
NCPD riot teams were brought in, and a pitched battle broke out on the Interstate 49 bridge connecting Heywood to Pacifica.
That's when shit really hit the fan. Pacifican natives engaged the Riot police with automatic weapons that soon turned a mass riot into an armed insurrection that spiraled Night City into yet another lockdown
At least this time the City Council had a valid excuse since, for whatever reason, everyone in Pacifica was out of their goddamn mind.
"Gillean Jordan reporting live from an NCPD checkpoint just outside of Coast View." The reporter stood just a few yards behind a hastily erected barrier with more than a hundred officers standing guard. "Just a few hours ago, the City Council declared a state of emergency and voted unanimously to quarantine Pacifica until the violence is contai-"
"Take cover!" An NCPD Sergeant pulled Gillean behind a stack of h-barriers just as a stream of 5.56 flew overhead. Her cameraman wasn't as fortunate as three bullets tore into himself and the station's camera.
"Darrel!" Gillean cried out and reached for her wounded colleague as he writhed on the pavement in anguish.
"Stay the fuck down!" A gruff voice preceded a rough hand that pulled her back into cover. An NCPD Officer grabbed Darrel by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him behind an NCPD Ironclad.
The line of police officers didn't hesitate to return fire upon the mob of armed rioters. Bullets and insults were exchanged between the two sides while Gillean covered her ears in sheer terror.
A trio of Molotov cocktails appeared behind a row of barricades erected by the Pacifican natives and were thrown into an Ironclad, seeking to pierce their blockade.
Panic didn't begin to describe Gillean's bearing, and it took a hefty slap across the cheek from her savior to somewhat settle her fraying nerves.
"Get ahold of yourself." Master Sergeant Kieran Sharpe gave the unnerved reporter a severe look.
The woman was utterly lost to delirium, resulting from her colleague's bloodied corpse not feet away.
Sharpe glanced towards the police blockade and snatched a passing patrol officer by his shoulder. The peacekeeper nearly spat out an insult before his mind stopped him from making the terrible mistake of irritating an NCPD Master Sergeant.
"Patrolmen." Sharpe gestured towards the panicked reporter and the wounded cameraman. "Get them both to the CCP and tell Lieutenant Baez if I see another newscaster within a mile of this place. His ass is mine!"
"Yes, Sergeant!" The Patrolmen wasted no time dragging Jordan to her feet while another pair of officers pulled her colleague onto a stretcher and moved them out of the combat zone.
"Goddammit, Sharpe." Sergeant Reynolds and the twins arrived just in time to see the reporter be taken to their rear lines. "You just sent my road to fame packing."
"Shut up, Reynolds, and get your team on the firing line!" Sharpe turned away to oversee the pitched gun battle between a mix of NCPD Swat Officers and former MAXTAC Operators.
In the ten days since MAXTAC's official disbandment, Sharpe and his team found themselves knee-deep in Councilor Peralez's secretive Task Force Sierra.
Its institution remained a closely guarded secret from most NCPD Command, barring a select few who had earned Commander Matthews absolute trust.
The duties of responding to Cyberpsycho attacks were transferred to NCPD SWAT, leaving Task Force Sierra to delve into the moonlit world of Night City.
Corporate espionage, corrupt politicians, and other secretive dealings were just a fraction of the tasks Councilor Perralez assigned to Sharpe and his men.
Their first act was to eliminate a Corporate Executive tied to Arasaka's transportation division and make it look like an unfortunate tragedy. The twins came up with the idea of utilizing a runaway eighteen-wheeler, and the accident was easier to hide than a bullet through the windshield.
The most jarring operation for Task Force Sierra was eliminating a group of Valentinos contracted by Arasaka to attack one of the corporations' properties while masquerading as Militech mercenaries.
It was a textbook false flag operation, but the idea of Arasaka being willing to engage their rival recklessly worried Sharpe and his team.
The Task Force was poised to thoroughly investigate all Arasaka holdings in Night City, but the Pacifican riots derailed any attempts before they could get started.
Still, Sharpe preferred cloak-and-dagger work over frontline operations where a stray bullet could get him killed before he could blink. He added his Copperhead to the barrage of gunfire exchanged between the two sides, turning the bridge into a no man's land only the insane would dare to cross.
The siege of Pacifica was entering its eighteen-hour, and sooner or later, something would have to give.
Sharpe prayed it wouldn't be them.
"Vulture Six, this is Javelin. Give me a sitrep, Sharpe." Gary Matthews's voice leaked into his right ear.
"Javelin this is Six." Sharpe ducked his head just in time to avoid a stray bullet. "It's a warzone down here, and we're not equipped to blast through their blockade without heavy casualties…."
He peaked over the H-Barrier towards the ramshackle collection of cars, burnt tires, and other miscellaneous garbage. The rioters poured everything they could into these improvised roadblocks, clogging roadways and making any effort at a direct assault suicidal.
This was all just pure insanity.
"…Again, I request permission to lead a strike team inside Pacifica to ascertain-"
"Negative, Vulture Six…." Since the riots had kicked off, Sharpe had been pushing to deploy his team into Pacifica, but it was denied at every step for a multitude of reasons.
However, in this instance, instead of Matthews expressing his doubts about a successful incursion, the Task Force Commander relayed a different explanation.
"…Other assets are being deployed into Pacifica." Sharpe's visage shifted into genuine confusion, his hands ejecting the spent magazine from his Copperhead as he glanced at Reynolds.
As far as the Master Sergeant knew, the NCPD was the only combat-ready force maintaining this lockdown.
Militech, Arasaka, and a host of other Megacorporation assets were barred from the perimeter erected by NCPD SWAT and other adjacent units by order of the City Council.
And in terms of NCPD assets, only Task Force Sierra specialized in high-level infiltration and rapid action assaults.
So if it wasn't Sharpe's detachment being called in, who the fuck was Matthews talking about.
"Javelin, this is Skyhawk 1-Delta." An NCPD Aerial Unit maintaining the quarantine from Coronado Bay jumped on the command net. "We're picking up unidentified radar contacts approaching from the west at high speeds. Requesting orders?"
"Those contacts are cleared to enter Pacifican airspace. Make sure their path is clear." Sharpe ignored the raging firefight on the bridge and ran behind police barricades to glimpse these unknown contacts.
"Roger that, Javelin. We'll let them through." Five miles from the coastline, four flights of VF-29 Viper Gunships bearing an unfamiliar marking that didn't belong to any of the major players in North America.
A black eagle with wings swept towards the heavens was inscribed on the nose of each aircraft, and whether Sharpe knew it or not, this wouldn't be the first time he would see such a distinguishable emblem.
In six months, it would be emblazoned upon the faces of sky-scraping structures, vagrant-filled alleyways, street signs, and suburban homes.
The Black Eagle would become known to the masses of Night City and beyond, but the dogmatic motto inscribed upon the emblem's base would forever be synonymous with the Commonwealth Military.
Semper Vigiles
Always Vigilant
l==l
Night City, Northern California
Coronado Bay, Heywood
Colonel Lucas 'Ronin' Reyes toyed with the lighter held loosely in his right hand. The Veteran operators of Mage One-One occupied every seat within the Viper Gunship's cargo hold.
Sergeant Allen Graves, their commander, sat across Reyes and plucked a premium cigar from his vest before pressing it between his lips. He leaned forward just enough for the ranking officer to light the roll of tobacco and exhaled a plume of white smoke.
Graves is a tough-as-nails bastard who served alongside Reyes when he was still hoofing it with Lazarus.
Ronin could have picked a worse company to lead Blackwatch's first foray into Night City, but if he were being honest, he would have preferred to be at the head of an entire army and not a company's worth of operators.
This city was to be the foundation of their future, and every day it was in corporate hands was one too many in his eyes. The time for Megacorporsrions controlling every aspect of society was over, and Blackwatch will be at the forefront of its downfall.
Reyes only wished their first target was Arasaka Tower and not some forgotten relic of Night City.
His body remained seated within the gunship's cargo hold, but his attention was soon preoccupied with the briefing of a lifetime.
Every member of Mage Company was linked into the same briefing, and although no words were being exchanged, there was an underlying tension that could not be ignored.
At the head of a holographic war table was Cypher himself, and the Headhunter cut an imposing figure. He was flanked by a pair of Bloodhounds clad in midnight dark armor and a Blackwatch emblem emblazoned upon their shoulders.
Kaiser and Reyes stood with a cluster of other Mage Company officers, each sporting an iron-clad exterior, but on the inside was a whirling pool of anxiety. This sensation wasn't displayed by a pair of operators geared out in state-of-the-art combat hardsuits that showed no skin and betrayed no emotion.
They weren't Blackwatch, which drew a wary eye from Kaiser upon introductions, but Cypher leveled their concerns with a single gesture.
Everyone here had a part to play, and these mysterious operators would be critical to their assault on the Voodoo Boys.
The gravity of their situation became ever clearer with Cypher's opening statements to their briefing.
"What we accomplish here tonight cannot be understated. If we fail, we won't recognize the world tomorrow." A holographic projection outlined the facial features of a middle-aged Haitian woman dressed in a heavy coat and netrunner suit. "Today's target is Maman Brigitte, designation False Prophet…."
The projection shifted into an overhead view of Pacifica, and a green outline began tracing over the rundown beachfront properties in the district's northernmost boroughs.
"…The Voodoo Boys have obtained an artificial program that can and has breached the Blackwall…." Ronins' eyes narrowed at shades of red blotting out the green outline's interior. "…And as of this moment, Coast View is under the control of a Rogue AI. The predicted casualties of this catastrophe are…staggering."
A number appeared in the top corner of Ronin's hud, and the digits reached levels that exceeded Night City's total population.
A point that drew the immediate questioning of Blackwatch's Aviation Commander, Eva 'Comic' Kolerek.
"Are these numbers accurate?" Cypher's attention centered on the flight jockey, and to her credit, she weathered his impervious gaze with a steadfast visage.
"These projected casualties are from around the globe." A hush of tense whispers broke out amongst the rank and file, but a raised hand from Cypher silenced all commotion. "Keep in mind that Night City has one of the most sophisticated telecommunications networks in the modern world. Every corporation has heavily invested in its foundation, but it also means that if this AI breaks open the Blackwall, this network will serve as a foundation for a massive cyberattack by other Rogue AIs. They will unleash havoc and make the Datakrash of 2020 look like a walk in the park…."
A heavy silence consumed the briefing room as the gravity of their situation weighed on the minds of Blackwatch and Sirens alike.
Everything would fall apart, and the veterans of each organization can vividly remember the suffering they endured from Rache Bartmoss's hubris.
No one wanted to experience that tragedy a second time.
In a room full of hardened killers, mercenaries, and soldiers, only Kaiser had the willpower to break the all-encompassing silence. He stepped forward without a hint of trepidation or concern in his posture and addressed the founder of Blackwatch.
"What do you need from us, Commander?" Cypher's official rank within Blackwatch was always a matter of debate, but no one really cared to broach it, and Reyes found Kaiser's presumed designation prudent to his position.
"Chamber?" An ethereal woman as bright as the blue sky phased into the conference room. Ronin assumed she was a Netrunner in Cypher's employ, and the easy smile was too humanlike to be an Artificial intelligence.
How wrong he was.
"We're rolling in hard and fast," Chamber explained as the projection zoomed in on a beachfront Hotel moonlighting as the Voodoo Boys' base of operations. "The NCPD has locked down the district, and our contacts inside the department have reported a strong militia presence along the MSR leading into their stronghold…."
A trio of red beacons came to life on the overhead projection.
"…Mage One will deploy west of the Voodoo Boy stronghold designated as Objective Neptune. They will assist Disciple Company's assault on the objective and take up defensive positions once the lobby is secured…. "
The holographic table panned over to a pair of beacons marking up a nearby chantry and the infamous stadium lost to the annals of bureaucracy.
"…Mage Two and Three will push to these hard points and set up blocking positions outside the Chapel and Metro Stadium. They aim to delay quick reaction forces and not defend their hard point to the last man. Once the positions become attenable, Romeo Squadron will screen their withdrawal towards Objective Neptune and dig in with Mage One…."
"…Be warned. Hostile ground forces consist of combatants from all ages…." Ronin sucked in a heavy breath as the projection shifted to a live feed of their intended adversaries setting up roadblocks and heavy HMG emplacements. His augmented vision picked out the children running around with either rifles or any other weapons available. "…We will not force you to commit yourselves to this operation. Children will die. Civilians that would otherwise be seeking shelter will kill you without hesitation or mercy. The Rogue AI has destroyed all sense of humanity, and we can do nothing to save them. Those of you who will not partake are free to stay on your gunship until the operation is complete…."
Cypher stepped forward, drawing the attention of all in attendance. "I should not have to remind you that everyone here is a volunteer. Your service to the cause is whatever you have the heart to muster, and I will never force you to contribute. That is a choice you have made time and again. Tonight will be no exception…."
The Headhunter didn't wait for a verbal response from anyone, deactivating the holo table and nodding towards his presumed Netrunner.
"…Overall command will be held by Chamber. She's one of the best in coordinating combat operations on this side of the hemisphere, and she will have your complete support. Colonel Reyes will command Mage Company while I coordinate Disciple…Any questions?"
Nothing but silence was his answer, and his impervious gaze swarmed over each attending Operator, searching for doubt or hesitation in their eyes. Despite the physical detachment from Cypher via the data link, a calming sense of ease reinforced any fraying nerves.
No member of Mage Company nor Romeo Squadron was walking away from this operation.
"Romeo Squadron," Chamber interrupted the stillness with a voice of steel. "You are cleared to begin landing operations. Good luck, all of you."
The war table faded into the night, replaced by the grim helmets of Mage Company operators as they sat in tense anticipation. The buckling of their armor filled the cargo hold, and once again, Ronin was reminded of their significant upgrades since their combat operations in Maracay and San Lucas.
Layers of composite plates reinforced their midnight carapace armor, providing adequate safeguard to most armor-piercing rounds. The plating offered the ideal balance of protection and speed that kept Blackwatch operators light on their feet. Additional upgrades to their cybernetic implants and exoskeletons were welcome additions to Cypher Shock Troopers.
Now all Reyes could do was endure the stifling tension as his Gunship approached Pacifica at high speeds.
"Squadron break formation and maintain altitude" The VF-29s broke into designated formations with four Gunships branching off with the 2nd and 3rd Platoon to their assigned hardpoints. "Chamber, this is Romeo Six-One. We're on approach to LZ X-ray."
"Roger, Six-One. Airspace is clear but expect heavy resistance upon landing.
"Six-One copies all out." The pilot activated the Gunships cargo intercom. "Five seconds!"
"Game faces One-One!" Sergeant Allen Graves called out as his squad stood to their feet. Ronin's stomach dropped as the Gunship suddenly halted atop their designated LZ, and the side doors slid open, revealing a street divider with the words Voodoo Boy scrawled out in white.
Showtime.
"Go, go, go!"
Corporal James 'Grim' Morrison emerged from the cargo hold with his Copperhead ready. The squad fanned out in a loose circle, their eyes scanning for any perceivable threat, but all they found were surrounding empty of all life.
"What do you got?!" Private Greyson 'Grey' Lowe called out to his squad, searching for any confirmation of hostiles. "What do you got?!
"I got nothing, no targets." Comms Specialist Anthony 'Granite' Hanney replied, the barrel of his Ajax pulling from left to right.
Sergeant Graves kept his rifle shouldered even as the gunship began to pull out of the landing zone. The rest of their Platoon converged on One-One's position setting up a makeshift perimeter just outside the hotel lobby.
After a tense silence, First Lieutenant Ryan Gigs took command of his Platoon with practiced ease.
"Ok, I want three squads with twenty-meter spacing. One-One, you're up first!"
A whistling noise passed Ronin's head, and a faint impact of a ballistic shell smashing into concrete drew his attention. He was scrambling for cover just as a Blackwatch Operator's voice came over the squad net.
"Rocket!" As Romeo Six-One passed overhead, Ronin's ears caught the distinctive muffled boom of a Militech UML. He saw the rocket climb towards the gunship's ascending frame, and the resulting thunderclap echoed off the decaying urban structures.
"Take Cover!" Mage Company followed Ronin's exclaim and scrambled for what little shelter they could find in the open space.
The tail buckled underneath the kinetic force, and the rotor spun into the streets below. The erratic tail rotor nearly bisected two members of Mage One-Three were it not for their exoskeletons and inert reflexes.
In any other situation, Grim would have liked to know how the Voodoo Boys managed to acquire Militech's heavy weaponry, but as the gunship slammed into the face of Batty's hotel, all questions were rendered mute.
The wreckage came to a grinding halt outside the hotel lobby, covering the courtyard and front entrance in thick black smoke.
"We got MANPADS in the AO, Romeo Squadron. Wave off, wave off!" The Gunships pulled up and out of their designated LZs. Their radars soon became a light with alerts as a wave of rockets chased after their tails.
The Squadron pilots dumped chaff and flares all over the landing zones, caking each gunship in a swarm of bright lights.
"Romeo Squadron, fall back to designated safe zones immediately." Chamber's voice pierced through the veil of panicking voices on the radio channel, "Ronin, you have incoming hostiles! Look sharp!"
Chamber's warning came seconds before a swarm of Voodoo Boys poured into the courtyard from every crevice inside Batty's hotel. The thick black smoke obscured Grim's vision, but his rifle pulled at the sight of a gun barrel pocking through the dark fumes.
"Contact!" His Copperhead barked twice, felling a pair of teenagers spearheading a reckless charge into the meat of Mage One's defenses.
The Operators responded with a calm composure earned from a near lifetime of combat operations, slaying the first wave with practiced ease as they emerged from the hotel lobby.
The Voodoo Boys mindlessly climbed over one another, disregarding all preservation of life for even the slightest chance to kill their adversaries. They weren't human but drones responding to a pair of signals without question, turning these Voodoo Boys into meatshields.
Albeit, somewhat effective meatshields.
The Vanyons soon made their presence known in a split second. Their augmentations served them well as they bobbed and weaved within the crowd of Voodoo Boys, evading the deadly gunsights of Blackwatch Operators with seamless movements.
Corporal Victor Tellez was reloading his Copperhead when a pair of Vanyons broke through a mob of Voodoo Boys and crashed into his position. He managed to kill one, but the other drove her thermal Mantis Blades into his abdomen and lifted him high in the sky.
Tellez became one of four Blackwatch operators to die on September 17th, but his death did not go unpunished. Grim pulled his Copperhead and planted a burst of 7.62 directly into the Vanyons frontal lobe, blasting his head apart and spilling the remains of his brain on the ground.
The operators created a defensive line with several fire teams spread out in a loose formation that maximized their fields of engagement. It was a scheme that should have forced any opposing force to rethink their strategy, but these Voodoo Boys had no reasonable thoughts.
"Jesus Christ!" Hanney ducked his head just in time to prevent a ballistic round to his visor. "These guys are fucking relentless!"
"Reloading." Grim braced himself against his hardcover and ejected his spent magazine.
His kill count had to reach the thirties by now, and he was burning through magazines at an astonishing rate. Next to him was Gator, their designated Machine Gunner, and his barrel was starting to heat up at the intense fire he was laying down.
The staccato of machinegun bursts should have been suppressing fire, but the Voodoo Boys weren't bothering to seek cover or concealment and just kept coming.
It was both remarkable and disturbing that they so quickly disregarded the piles of corpses belonging to their friends and families.
"Keep it up! They'll break soon!" The Lieutenant's voice leaked into their comments channel with the same vigor shown in Maracay and San Lucas.
He kept the Platoon grounded in reality, and he has never been found wanting.
And tonight would be no exception.
"I fucking hope so!" Grey retorted, his rifle begging for more magazines as he dropped into cover. "I'm going to run out of fucking ammo soon!"
"You're telling me!" Gator's Mk.31 fell silent, the barrel burning an angry red. "When the fuck is Disciple Company moving in?!"
"Who the fuck cares!" The gunfire practically muffled Grim's voice, but his squadmates heard him nonetheless. "Keep your fingers tight and stay focused!"
A fresh wave of Voodoo Boys and armed civilians recklessly charged their defensive line. They didn't speak or make any emotional gestures. Their minds were focused and undaunted by the hopelessness of their task.
"They're practically machines," Grim quietly mused to himself. He was in the midst of sighting another target when his fingers froze around the trigger.
A little girl, no more than ten by his account, was still dressed in bright pink pajamas. Her face was made out of granite, betraying no emotion, and marching toward them with a pistol in her hand.
…There is nothing we can do to save them.
Chamber's words echoed to the forefront of Grim's mind, and with great reluctance, he centered his sights upon the girl's forehead. Her beady eyes stared back at him, and for the barest moment, his composure faltered.
She lifted her pistol and struggled to keep it straight. Her fingers wrapped around the trigger and centered on a member of One-Three, pulling a wounded comrade into cover.
In that moment of muted uncertainty, Grim made his decision.
*BANG!*
The girl's body fell from sight, and a fist-sized hole was punched through her collarbone. She was dead long before her corpse hit the pavement, and Grim was forced to face his new reality.
The Platoon fought on, undaunted and unshaken by the deeds they were forced to commit in the name of a better future.
Mage One drew the attention of every Voodoo Boy in the hotel like moths to a flame. Their barking rifles only seemed to invigorate the Rogue AI into sending more into the meat grinder.
Just as Chamber intended.
She watched the pitched gunbattles with a keen eye while the Rogue AI continued to unveil its strategy. Their opening move was to eliminate a Romeo Squadron from Chamber's array of forces and ambush the deployed ground units with a wave of human flesh.
In some sense, the Rogue temporarily removed the gunships from the field.
However, it failed to consider the quality of Chamber's ground forces, and it was suffering grievous casualties at the hands of Mage Company.
The Rogue committed more forces to stamp out Mage One.
Meanwhile, Chamber quietly maneuvered Disciple Company into the lightly guarded basement.
The mixing of Cypher Bloodhounds and Eliza's Sirens was as seamless as Chamber hoped. They operated in eerily similar fashions that their physical presence was the only distinguishing mark of their martial prowess.
They were the perfect match of brutality and flexibility.
Just like their leaders.
"Cyrus, Eliza…." Chamber savored the taste of their names on her lips. It had been so long since the three of them had been together, and despite her occasional grievances with Eliza, she missed her nonetheless. "…I'm disguising your signatures, but it won't last long. Are you in position?"
l==l
"…in position?"
In the basement of Batty's hotel, a hallway filled with the corpses of Voodoo Boys was illuminated by flickering lights. Bloodhounds and Sirens turned over the bodies, their rifles and submachine guns searching for any survivors to snuff out.
"Insertion point secure." A gruff voice echoed through the darkness. "Start the clock."
The newly formed Disciple Company breached the lower levels in sync with Mage One's engagement, securing a foundation in the Voodoo Boy's stronghold with no one else the wiser.
"Understood. Good luck, Eliza."
A golden visor shining through the shadows turned into the all-encompassing darkness, a grin playing on the user's lips. Bloodhounds and Sirens slipped past the immense power armor called MJOLNIR, spreading out in practiced formations with guns at the ready.
Eliza had dreamed of this moment for decades, and now that it was finally here, she couldn't help but speak an old yet entirely accurate cliché.
"Just like old times." The words came so easily to Eliza, and most would have expected an equally jovial response, but she knew her partner better than anyone.
"Minus the ONI handler constantly looking over our shoulders." Cyrus's words were dry, sarcastic, and truthful, but Eliza couldn't keep the smile off her face. "It's good to have you back."
She didn't reply.
There was no reason to, but any reciprocating words were interrupted by Chamber.
"Hate to break this up, but you're about to have company." The UNSC AI's voice contained a hint of mirth. "A search party is heading down to the basement to figure out what happened to their friends."
"They're about to find out themselves." Cyrus shouldered his Copperhead and stepped past his Spartan sibling. "Quick gawking, Eliza. We have work to do."
"Right behind you." She shook her head of all straying thoughts, but that pleasant feeling pooling at the bottom of her stomach continued to linger.
And she didn't mind in the slightest.
It really was good to be back.