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Chapter Sixteen
July 21st, 2077
Night City, Northern California
Hideout, Charter Hill
Chamber welcomed home her Spartan with a display theatrics, involving an exaggerated light show from his workstation. His MJOLNIR still laid where he placed it, and he was impatient to put on the suit that was practically his second skin.
Cyrus discarded his clothes and folded them neatly on his workbench while his AI watched in calm silence. Since his arrival, she hadn't spoken a word to him, and he had a feeling he was due a lecture on keeping in touch when away. The artificial intelligence always treated him like her reckless child, and while he appreciated the motherly gesture, even Cyrus had his limits.
The Headhunter began the long and arduous process of donning his armor after slipping into his Titanium Nanocomposite Bodysuit. The internal padding and gel layer surrounding his limbs was a familiar and comforting sensation.
It took a grueling hour to ensure every piece of equipment worked perfectly and connected in their conventional points. The Spartan's hands grasped the final piece to the convoluted puzzle, his MJOLNIR PAA/Pilot helmet, the single most valuable piece in his power armor.
The helmet entered military service during Cyrus's stint as a Beta company cadet, and while he never did have the aptitude to make a Sabre sing as Casey did. He did take a particular liking to the helmet's design and HUD interface.
Cyrus grasped the helmet carefully, thumb wiping the visor with the tenderness of a child's favorite doll. The familiar click and delicate whine of his MJOLNIR systems kicking in, led to a lingering sigh of contentment. He would never be able to explain in depth what it meant to don this piece of equipment, but if there was one word in the world that could illustrate the sensation.
It would be exhilarating.
Chamber watched with a mixture of curiosity and contentment as the Spartan reacquainted himself with his power armor. He always had a penchant for taking his time when it came to settling into his MJOLNIR, but she needed to reign on his parade.
"Good to be back?" A chipper voice stole his attention.
"Yes." Cyrus nodded his head and exhaled in relief as his HUD came to life. His hands immediately reached for Chamber's data chip, injecting it swiftly and observing her Avatar burst onto his head-up display.
"Enjoy your time with the girls?"
It was a loaded question that produced nothing more than a mixed bag of emotions for Cyrus. He had come to enjoy their presence over the last few weeks, but they still tended to grate on his nerves from time to time.
"It had its moments," Cyrus acquiesced. "Did you finish your project?"
"Course I did," Chamber motioned over to the camo module she had been tinkering with since they set up shop in Charter Hill. "I suggest we field test it before we meet the esteemed Sixth Street Gang Captain."
Cyrus quietly agreed with her assessment; his arrival to this skeleton of a planet did not leave him unscathed. His cloaking module was damaged upon his crash landing in the outskirts of Night City. He and Chamber had been working around the clock to repair the module, and she finally made some headway.
"Any targets of opportunity?" Cyrus inquired as he attached the cloaking module securely to the small of his back.
"Oh yeah," Chamber couldn't fight back the devilish grin spreading across her face. "How do you feeling about hunting Mercs?"
"Depends on the Merc."
Night City, Northern California
FOB Prism, North Oak
Cyrus expected the Black Element Mercenaries to delay continuing operations in Night City after the Arasaka Tower incident. For a time, this seemed to have been the case, as most Black Element contractors were removed from Night City.
Alas, Yorinobu's private army had chosen to make a reappearance in Night City, and the fools had made it their prerogative to search for the Northside Headhunter. The bounty on Cyrus's head was now worth over one million Eurodollars, and for every act of vengeance he committed, the bounty would just keep getting larger.
The Tyger Claws had been a primary contributor to the bounty, with multiple other small-time crime syndicates pitching in. The NCPD had a separate reward for anyone who could provide information on the Northside Headhunter, but only a fool would take that bet.
The Black Element Mercenaries' established four compounds around Night City. Most were centered around Corporate Plaza; their sole objective was to protect Yorinobu Arasaka's interest in Night City.
However, there was one location that Cyrus needed to deal with post-haste.
The Black Element Mercenary's had purchased the old Impala Automatics compound in North Oak as a base point for Westbrook operations. So far, BE Mercs were being deployed by squads into Japantown for the last few days; his campaign against the Tyger Claws had drawn the PMC's in like moths.
Recently those PMC's that hadn't been searching the streets for Cyrus were working security for Tyger Claw safe houses and businesses, one of which was Clouds. Vargas had been fussing up a storm about the Mercs' presence in Japantown, plausible because Alvarez was doing the same to her. The pair couldn't execute their admittedly longshot plan with the PMC's in play.
The Black Element Mercs needed to be removed, and it would start at the recently renamed Impala facility, now called FOB Prism.
There was only one way into the facility aside from vaulting over the twenty-foot high walls. That was a security checkpoint that the Mercs recently upgraded, installing a heavy blast door and two security turrets.
At most, the PMC's kept one section of Mercenaries garrisoned at the FOB; two more infantry sections were deployed into Japantown. Those units were either running basic security for the TC or patrolling the streets searching for Cyrus.
"Chamber, tactical input." Cyrus was observing the Black Element Firebase from a cliff edge five hundred meters southeast. The PMC's had renovated the old electronics factory into a forward operating base. The twenty-foot high walls were now laced with an electrified barbed wire.
The office buildings were turned into makeshift barracks for their ground troops, and the factory line was reconfigured into an ammo dump. The single helicopter pad was expanded to service two hovercraft, and the satellite tower's base structure maintained the FOB's communications center.
"Fifty Tangos in total," The Artificial Intelligence informed. "All spread out across the compound, and that's not including the Infantry Section about to depart for Night City. The FireBase itself runs off a power generator separated from the city's grid, so we can't take out their lights or their security turrets remotely."
"Air support?" Cyrus magnified his MJOLNIR's hud zooming in on the Prism's helipad.
"Not that I can see," Chamber replied. "The AV's parked on the landing pad are transport variants, no gunships to speak of."
"Are we ready?"
"Almost, just waiting for the patrol vehicles to roll out before we send the PMC's an early Christmas gift, laced with ten pounds of C9."
Cyrus wanted to send a message to the Black Element Mercs and anyone else foolish enough to come looking for him. And there was no greater message than wiping their FOB off the face of the Earth.
Chamber devised an aggressive plan; the AI would pilot an unmarked Thorton Colby straight into the main gate. The vehicle would detonate the C9 on impacts knocking down the blast doors and giving Cyrus a way in. From there, he would need to breach the FOB's compound and make his way towards the Satellite towers support beams.
The deployed Black Element sections would be recalled back for operational security. Once most of the Mercs arrived, the Headhunter would detonate four C9 explosives planted at the Satellite tower's base. The tower would collapse on top of the FOB and eliminate the Black Element Mercenaries from North Oak. The firebase would be a Venus flytrap, and the Mercs would walk right into it.
"Blue Viking, this is Azure Six. We are rolling out for patrol in District Twelve, over."
" Blue Viking copies all, out."
The FOB blast doors immediately swung open; five Black Element armored personnel carriers drove with a purpose into Night City. Cyrus reached behind his back, retrieving the Carnage magnetized to his back. Today's objective fit the shotgun's maiden name, and he would be a fool not to bring it.
"Chamber," Cyrus intoned. "Start the clock."
"With pleasure."
Corporal Adam Augustus was on a five-year contract with Azure section, and he was exiting his fourth year of service. He and his squad were currently patrolling Night Cities red light district searching for a priority target codenamed Ares. The money was good, and a Merc's reputation could only improve while working with Black Element.
These commissions were supposed to be a cakewalk; protection details, 'peacekeeping' missions, or force projection assignments were their main SOP. However, most of the time, Black Element was moonlighting as Saburo Arasaka's high-level enforcers.
When the Corporate CEO needed a problem solved, he called his rabid dogs to solve the issue at hand. Their recent deployments were centered around Southeast Asia; the Arasaka heir wanted a new oil pipeline near Virachey in Thailand. Unfortunately for the several indigenous populations residing there, Saburo Arasaka wanted them gone.
Those inhabitants were forcibly 'removed' from their homes by Black Element Mercs and relocated to a more suitable location.
Whether or not those locals disagreed was irrelevant, considering they were stacked on top of one another in a three-mile-long ditch forty feet deep. It didn't bother Adam too much; the Mercenary Company was well versed in 'relocations,' and it wasn't the first time they executed such a task.
As far as the Corporal was concerned, this contract started out as an easy gig, drop a couple of bodies, bury them in a ditch, and collect the eddies. Azure Section was rarely deployed to the NUSA, but the boss was pushing his own agenda in Night City.
Azure Section was one of the few units ready for deployment after their stint in Asia, and Augustus figured it'd be an easy gig. Then Butcher and Cobalt Sections got their assess handed to them by a fucking Ghost, and before he knew it, his detachment was being deployed as an occupation force in Corporate Plaza.
Azure was barely getting settled at the posh corporate plaza when they were rebilleted to FOB Prism. Their sole objective was to hunt Black Element's most recent adversary callsign, Ares. Their target was hunting Tyger Claws after decimating the Maelstrom in Northside; Black Element intel teams concluded that the Northside Headhunter was the same psycho that massacred its way through Butcher and Cobalt Section.
It made Augustus hurl when he found out Black Element was actively rolling with fucking Tyger Claw gangers. The Corporal couldn't stand the sight of those fucking gonks, and neither could the rest of Azure Section. That being said, he was silently grateful that the gangers were present. It gave Azure Section plenty of meat shields between them and Ares.
" Azure One, crossing checkpoint Lima," The radio operator, Private Dante Dominguez, relayed their vehicle's location, rustling Adam from his thoughts. "You ok, boss?"
"I'm fine," Adam adjusted the grip on his rifle. "Just wanna get out of this fucking city before we get done in by Ares."
"I hear that," Adam's driver, PFC Teagan Bell was a man whose mouth got him in trouble more often than not. "Why the fuck are we hunting this guy after Arasaka Tower. We should be driving in the opposite direction, not searching for this fucking psycho."
Before the BE Corporal could reply, a concussive force echoed off the Night City skyscrapers. Adam and his cohorts flinched on instinct, bodies seizing up as adrenaline started to pump into their systems. A string of expletives emitted from the three Merc's as they regained their bearings and Bell kept their vehicle stable.
"What the fuck was that?" Bell's voice shrieked in perplexity.
"A fucking explosion, what else could it be!" Dominguez griped as he loosened the grip on his radio. "Damned thing rocked the whole fucking town in the process."
Adam stared out his passenger window; civilians were picking themselves off the ground carefully. The concussive force wasn't enough to knock anyone down, but Night City citizens were conditioned to hit the pavement when an explosion occurred.
"Azure Six to all elements, disengage from patrol routes and return to the FOB immediately. We are Code Black; I repeat, we are Code Black!"
"Step on it, Bell!" Adam yelled with enough authority to kick the PFC into motion.
"Fuck me, this is gonna suck."
Bell cut the vehicle onto the sidewalk, nearly striking a group of pedestrians trying to traverse the crowded streets of Night City. Adam could care less if somebody ate shit on his bumper; they needed to get back to base and see what woke the whole town.
The assault on FOB Prism came at the worst possible time for the PMC's inside. Azure Section was replacing the beleaguered Drab Section after a long day on patrol in Japantown. The locals weren't exactly welcoming of the Merc's presence inside their district; skirmishes were a regular occurrence that they had to deal with daily.
Azure Section was one of the few Black Element groups to have any experience operating inside Night City. That made them a valuable commodity to upper management. The only other Black Element section with experience in the Metropolis was Butcher, and they were massacred in Arasaka Tower.
The Mercs were barely hitting their racks when the attack began.
PMC Nathan Dawes was guarding the security checkpoint with three other Mercs' when an unmarked Thorton was spotted approaching the main gate. The soldier of fortune immediately fell back to his training, alerting his SNCO in charge of the checkpoint.
"Sergeant Coburn!" The grizzled middle-aged Mercenary snapped to attention.
"What is it, Dawes?"
"Unmarked vehicle approaching the main gate." The PMC informed.
Coburn immediately came to the contractor's station, eyes focusing intently on the fast-approaching motorcade. The automobile's speed increased the closer it came to the FOB's main gate.
"Dawes, activate security protocols." Coburn scrambled for the FOB's intercom. "All personnel be advised! We have an unmarked tango approaching the main gate; we need a QR team to the front gate immediately."
The main gates automatic defense protocols went into full effect. Automated turrets were initiated, and the blast doors were augmented with a squad of combat mechs. Dawes switched the turrets into manual control, using a camera feed to track the Thorton's movements.
The Merc fired a barrage of 7.62 armor-piercing shells at the vehicle's projected path. However, the Thorton jinked to the right at the last possible second, narrowly avoiding its premature destruction. Dawes fired a second torrent of bullets, but it only served to frustrate the contractor further, by the time his fourth unsuccessful attempt, the Thorton was a mere one hundred meters from the main gate.
Coburn was by his side in seconds, voice frantic and only serving to break Dawes' concentration. "Shoot him damnit!"
"I'm fuckin trying!" The Thorton dodged another wave of shells with practiced ease. Coburn could only watch in horror as the vehicle accelerated straight towards them. At this point, the vehicle was underneath the defense guns.
"Sonnuva bitch! Everybody down!" The security personnel inside dove underneath their workstations, hands were covering their heads.
The Thorton slammed into the blast doors with enough kinetic force to leave a car-sized dent in its hull. Coburn found his feet soon after, eyes scanning the Thorton's interior for any passengers. There were no passengers, but it did contain cargo that was explosive in nature.
*BOOM*
Coburn didn't get a chance to scream or run for safety; that moment was taken from him when the C9 explosives strapped to the vehicle's front seats detonated. Fire and brimstone consumed the security checkpoint, killing all occupants inside and unleashing kinetic energy of incredible magnitude.
The concussive force consumed the FOB's front gate smashing the Combat Mechs standing guard a mere meter from the explosion's epicenter. The Merc's responding to the assault were thrown from their feet, a few unlucky souls died from the kinetic force of the C9's explosion. A wave of shrapnel and explosive fragments followed in the concussive blasts wake piercing flesh and titanium bodies alike.
When the dust finally settled, the survivors were greeted by an apocalyptic landscape. The entire security checkpoint was a burning chunk of shattered steel and iron; the blast doors were sent flying across the compound, smashing a pair of parked APCs. A plume of smoke leaked into the sky, signaling to the rest of Night City to the coming bloodshed.
Citizens across Westbrook felt the concussive force shake the foundations of their apartment buildings. NCPD and NCFD units could only watch from the sidelines as their leadership refused to deploy the emergency response teams until the all-clear signal was given. Carnage was all that was left in the IED's wake, and the Black Element radio channels burst alive with activity.
" Blue Viking to all deployed sections. Return to base immediately we have a Code Black Alert in progress, how copy!"
" Blue Viking, this is Azure Six. Inbound now, five mikes out!"
" Blue Viking, this is Maroon Six. On our way!"
"Whose up!" A Black Element Mercenary found his feet, pieces of shrapnel embedded into his composite armor. All around him were a mixture of destroyed combat mechs and other PMC Mercs. A staccato of voices responded to his orders in a staggered pattern.
"Keller here!"
"Andrews up!" A Mercenary replied. "I can't feel my fucking back, man!"
A dozen other voices called out their own replies; most were sporting a litany of cuts and bruises. The remaining shell shocked Mercs fell back on their basic training; NCO's started barking orders at their subordinates, who executed them without hesitation.
A muffled thud drew a Black Element NCOs attention, and he was providing first aid to a downed trooper when a body bounced off the pavement. The Merc's brows furrowed in confusion when a second PMC struck the ground face first.
"Private?" The NCO shuffled over to his down compatriot and turned him on his back. The Black Element grunt had a hole drilled into his head; an exit wound was present at the back of his cranium. Years of instinct and training kicked in instantly; his coarse voice carried itself across the burning FOB.
A shimmering body approximately seven feet tall strode through the smoke and dust. A kukri strapped to his armor and a Copperhead grasped in both hands. Without missing a beat, the ghost unloaded a burst of rounds into a pair of Mercs. Palming a fragmentation grenade and throwing it at the feet of the Black Element Mercenary.
"CONTACT!" The NCO could not save himself, the grenade's explosion shattering his bones and hurling him into the air. The Merc was dead before his corpse bounced off the ground with a meaty thud.
Staff Sergeant Jacob Kennedy was one week from his contract expiring with Black Element. Drab Section was never supposed to be deployed to Night City after the Arasaka Tower incident. Indigo Section was supposed to backup Azure and Maroon, but an overlooked clerical error resulted in Drab Section getting the thumb.
Jacob Kennedy died on July 21st, 2077, along with over two hundred Black Element Mercenaries. Kennedy was one of the few to be granted a quick and clean death in comparison to the rest of the Mercs in FOB Prism. A single ballistic shell through his cranium shut his lights out before he even knew what was happening.
Unfortunately, many of his compatriots were not granted a clean death; instead, their last moments were cruel and gruesome.
The Headhunter was not interested in mercy today.
"Holy Shit!" Adam ducked his head, barely missing a ballistic shell that slammed against the PMC, taking cover next to him. "Dominguez! Bell! You guys ok!"
"We're good!" The pair were taking shelter behind a concrete barricade, trying their damnedest to avoid an early grave.
Azure One and Two were the first attachment to arrive, and they walked straight into a war zone. An intense gun battle was taking place inside the FOBs perimeter, and there NCOIC Sergeant Callahan deployed the rest of Azure One and Two to secure the grounds.
Callahan was the first to bite the dust when both squads breached the smoldering main gate. It was difficult for Adam to pinpoint how many hostiles they were engaging, but his assumption was at least a squads worth. The only problem was these fucking gonks were faster than he anticipated, and the lack of illumination inside made pinning their adversary down that much more difficult.
A trio of Mercs attempted to break from cover and push forward, but three accurate shots put them down hard. Gunfire was still raining all across the FOB, the majority of it focused near the barracks and the communication tower. One of the Mercs picked up a Nekomata from one of their dead chooms and tossed it towards Bell.
"Grab that shit, Private! See if you can take some heads off." The Merc barely got those words out when a round drilled a hole through his left eye socket, gushing crimson liquid all over Bell.
"Motherfucker!" The rifleman racked a ballistic shell and aimed down the tech rifle's sight. Thermal signatures belonging to other BE Mercs ran in between cover blind firing into the dark.
Another three Mercs died by the time Bell finally located a muzzle flash near the comms tower. "Got eyes on a contact! The base of the comms tower!"
Bell had no chance to save himself when a 7.62mm round tore through his Nekomata's sight and burst out the back of his skull.
"Fuck! Bells down!" Adam swore in a fury, shouldering his rifle and firing off a burst of shells in retaliation.
"Blue Viking, this is Azure One. Enemy contacts are centered around the comms tower, how copy over!"
Static was the only response Dominguez received. The RTO was about to send a second transmission when a squad of BE Mercs burst through the main gate and slid into what cover they could find.
"Where the fuck have you guys been?!" Adam's voice cried out, mixed in with the staccato of gunfire and mounting explosions.
"Taking in the sights, banging your ex-wife, ya know the usual." The Corporal was not amused by the response he received from one of his fellow Mercs.
"Up yours, Cunningham!" Adam popped out of cover to squeeze off two bursts from his Copperhead before ducking for cover. "We're getting torn to shreds down here, and your cracking jokes."
"What's the situation Corporal," A Merc lieutenant slid next to Adam's position, a firm voice betraying the tense situation.
"We're ass deep in it, sir!" Adam shifted his weight to lean against his cover; rounds continued to be exchanged between the Mercs and their opposition. "Azure two, four, and five are down. Captain O'Brien took Azure three to retake the north barracks, but we haven't heard from him since."
The BE officer sneered in annoyance, eyes peeking over the concrete barrier and observing the battlefield. The Mercs' casualties were crippling, Drab section wasn't responding on comms, and Blue Viking was missing. The time for offensive measures was now or never.
"Ok, Corporal," The officer gestured towards his men. "You're with us, fall in with Maroon Two and push the North Barracks. We're going to snuff these fuckers out even if it kills us."
"Rodger that!" Adam regripped his rifle and shuffled to his left, sprinting for a turned over APC when a series of implosions knocked him off his feet. The screeching sound of collapsing steel overtook any other sound in the FOB, immediately silencing the gun battle taking place.
"Oh fuck," The Corporal followed the gaze of a Maroon Section trooper, eyes settling on the ten-story tower leaking precariously to the side. "The tower's coming down!"
All manner of organization quickly fell into disarray; every Black Element Merc still capable of moving ran for their lives. The Mercenary officer that Adam had spoken to broke ranks with his men, but a ballistic shell ruptured his heart when he made to leave. Adam tripped on the corpse of one of his fellow Azure Section Mercs, boot mixing in with dead man's brain matter.
Despite the dire situation, their opposition did not stop firing at the retreating Mercs. Clipping the Corporal in his right arm and sending him sprawling onto the concrete floor below. "I'm hit!"
Adam's cry for assistance was silenced by the tertiary explosion planted directly underneath comms tower, snapping the suspender cables and delivering the final death blow to FOB Prism. The last thing he would ever remember was a satellite dish crushing his body against the pavement he laid on.
"Amateurs." The Spartan silently agreed with Chamber's remark, shoving a piece of rebar to the side as he traversed the shattered remains of Black Elements North Oak base camp.
"We good?"
"Still a few stragglers running for the hills," The remaining Mercs disappeared off his motion tracker. "But all things considered, I think this place is only valuable to a salvaging company now." An explosion from an APC off to his right only signified Chamber's statement.
"As you say." Their main objective was to limit the Black Element Mercs presence in Japantown, and they completed that without issues.
Field testing the cloaking module was a secondary objective, and while the component had a few hiccups here and there, it performed admirably in the end. The Mercs had no idea where he was during the firefight, and that edge cost them well over a hundred of their number. The satellite towers collapse was the death knell to any Black Element operations in North Oak for the time being.
"Help me."
The Spartan almost missed the whisper as he passed by a Black Element Mercenary bleeding out before him. The Mercs hands reached up towards him in a desperate attempt to seek salvation.
It did not surprise Chamber when Cyrus instead gave him a meeting with a higher power. A single ballistic shell fired from his Unity ended the man's suffering and ensured he would never walk this Earth again.
Cyrus executed another dozen Mercs teetering on the edge of life and death. Chamber only watched in muted silence as he stalked a PMC crawling towards the FOB entryway. The man barely made it another ten meters before a round fragmented his forehead.
"In church," the AI began. "One of the basic tenants is forgiveness, Cyrus."
"Forgiveness is between them and God." The Headhunter holstered his Unity, giving a final glance towards the scores of dead Mercenary left in his wake. "It is my duty to arrange that meeting."
Police sirens echoed in the distance, and he could see a flash of light from a flight of AV's heading towards the FOB. Chamber off-handedly triggered his cloaking module, and soon the Spartan disappeared into the valley below.
"Our meeting with Captain Decker is taking place in a few hours," the AI spoke softly. "I'll push you the coordinates; I still can't believe we're meeting them in one of their affiliated locations. What made you even want to do something so asinine."
"To prove a point." Chamber's eyes furrowed in confusion. Cyrus never made a decision without thinking it out thoroughly thought that monkey brain of his.
"What point?" Cyrus slid down the rolling hills native to North Oak, settling his weight against a car-sized boulder as an NCPD AV passed overhead. "I'm missing a parameter here, aren't I?"
Cyrus chose not to reply to the hanging question; instead, he focused on traversing his environment and reaching the designated coordinates. His mind was preoccupied with the dossier Chamber wrote up on Captain Alex Decker, and he knew exactly what buttons to push to make her amendable to his demands.
Night City, Northern California
Charter Hill, Complex 29-B
The Sixth street gang was exploiting a subsidiary building complex as an outpost in the southeast end of Charter Hill. This multiplex structure played host to a number of small market businesses that the gangers were extorting for profit. These criminal activities rarely went unpunished when he was present, but today would have to be an exception to the rule.
If there was any chance of turning the Sixth street gang towards contributing to society in a form other than a sucking leech. Then, this summit would need to be executed correctly and without issue.
Cyrus was currently posted on the roof of an adjacent structure two streets west of complex 29-B. He sat with his back against an air conditioning vent; his Copperhead hung loosely in his arms. Eyes never left the target building, even as Chamber was talking his ear off about details to 'the Net' he could care less about.
"You haven't been sleeping recently." Chamber's voice echoed in his helmet.
"I don't need it," The AI's scoff indicated his bluff did not have the intended effect.
"Don't lie to me, Cyrus," a pleading tone leaked into her voice. "That won't get you anywhere, and it'll only make me angry."
"Anger is not my intended effect."
"And yet I'm getting closer to that emotion," She chided softly. "You Spartans may be built differently than most people, but at the end of the day, you are still human. And living off 4 hours of sleep every three weeks is not healthy. Not for me and not for you."
"There is too much-" Chamber cut into his statement.
"Work to be done, yeah, I've heard that bullshit before." The AI took a moment to calm her ailing thoughts. "Look, all I'm asking is for you to take a nap, so I don't have to worry about every time you go out into the field without me."
"We will not be separated often, Chamber."
"That is not the point," Chamber bit out, she didn't think it was possible for him to vex her anymore, but he was pushing it. "The fact still remains you can't go everywhere in your armor, and I can't be there every single moment you're out in the field. All I want is for you to take care of yourself, that's it."
A tense silence was all that remained after her final statement. The AI closed her eyes in exasperation, their arguments were few and far between, but when they occurred, it always ended with a bout of endless quiet. Chamber was seconds away from chalking up another failed attempt to persuade her stubborn monkey when his mouth opened.
"Wake me before Decker gets here, not after." The iron tone emphasized the words before and after, but Chamber could care less about his demands. She would take a small victory while it was still available.
"I will." Those were the only words she could speak, even as her Spartan's eyes closed slowly. His head dipped backward, resting against the AC vent and settling the AI's worries in an instant.
The Spartan's mind drifted listlessly into a dream-filled sleep, a peaceful slumber that was a rare occurrence under her watchful gaze. His brain activity was stable, and her worries were settling slowly.
Eventually, her focus returned to the streets below; civilian activity on the streets below was slowly dissipating as evening arrived. However, the Sixth Street Gang was ramping up activity with patrols and soldiers posted on a few street corners surrounding the complex.
As of a few hours ago, the Sixth Street Gang was at war with the Animals. The Pacifica based booster gang was a subject of interest for the Spartan. They tend to avoid traditional cyberware and prefer to enhance themselves with melee combat-enhancing cyberware. They also possessed a penchant for utilizing testosterone pills, animal supplements, and steroids to improve their reaction times.
Those poor bastards didn't know it, but Cyrus had already but them in the category of 'kill as soon as possible.' Chamber didn't feel like fighting him on that front; she was willing to sacrifice those muscle idiots to further her own agenda with the Sixth Street Gang.
Cyrus believed her plans regarding the gang were purely meant to extend his influence in Night City. That was not the primary justification she wanted the gangers in their corner; it was purely selfish means that drove her reasoning.
Chamber wanted them to relieve the ever-expanding pressure on her Spartan's shoulders. Her concern was on the insurmountable toll he had been enduring even before her introduction to Cyrus. The missions he took part in while combating the Covenant left a lasting scar on a physical and psychiatric level. She could care less how it got done, only that the agenda she was desperate to execute was completed.
A spike in brain activity drew her attention, and while Cyrus made no physical reactions to his encroaching nightmares, she knew it plagued him all the same. Today she came prepared.
*Illabye*
The AI pumped a familiar tune that quietly reverberated through his helmet's internal speakers. During training, Commander Ambrose had a penchant for playing a specific melody; its eerie tune was an unwelcomed addition during the early parts of Beta Company's training. But, eventually, they grew accustomed to the melody, and soon most of the Spartan III's couldn't sleep without it.
Cyrus was one of the few who took great gratification in the piece, often regarding its sinister beat when partaking in mindless feats. Such as cleaning his weapons or maintaining his armors internal systems.
Chamber kept her opinions on the purpose of the melody to herself. It was a subtle mechanism to keep the cadets docile during the early stages of their indoctrination. Chief Mendez was against the tune's utilization, but eventually, his concerns were disregarded in favor of the results it generated.
The AI let out an exhale of relief as Cyrus's brain activity slowly crawled to a peaceful level. No doubt in her mind that he was experiencing a dreamless sleep, an event that Chamber wished she could relegate more for his sake.
Decker would be here soon, and Chamber was honestly hoping she would take her time. Cyrus wouldn't admit it, but he needed rest just like everyone else. The only difference was his sleep was often plagued by night terrors, and she knew that Cyrus needed someone else to be there where she couldn't.
And she knew just the pair of women who could handle his tenacity.
Cyrus didn't dream often, and in most instances, he was left in blissful ignorance stumbling in the dark. However, he was prone to enduring an unwanted nightmare than the harmonious darkness he was accustomed to.
He found himself standing shoulder to shoulder with his teammates on either side of him. Ambrose stood off to the side quietly observing his most effective Spartan III team, and the unmistakable form of Colonel James Ackerson stood poised not more than a few meters from Cyrus.
A memory that Cyrus wished he could scrub from his memories because it only brought pain. Ackerson inflicted a type of pain that could not be easily forgotten, becoming a life-altering event.
" Lieutenant," The Colonel began, recognizing the Spartan's standing a little taller. "You're team maintains the highest accommodation records available to an ONI strike team. An exemplary record of over fifty strike missions executed in Covenant territory with exemplary efficiency. You should be proud."
"We are, Sir." As Reaper Team's commanding officer Casey answered the praise sternly.
"However, parameters change much like SOPs, and our war is no different." The Colonel turned on his heel staring out into the endless void of the final frontier. "Humanity isn't fighting just the covenant out there; we fight all who bear arms against the UNSC."
"Colonel?" Casey exhibited the confusion plastered on the rest of her team's faces.
"The Office of Naval Intelligence believes deployment of a three-man headhunter cell is a gross misallocation of valuable resources. I agree."
Cyrus's first year in the Spartan III program, Chief Mendez made it a point to explain two types of pain a man can endure in the field.
The pain that hurts and the pain that alters.
Mendez's first impression of the cadets left him with the unalienable belief that they were too emotional, driven solely by a desire to kill Covenant. Mendez considered these feelings to be useful at times but worthless in the long haul. Pain was their closest ally in that first year as cadets, and Cyrus was a particular favorite of the Chiefs. Something about being the oldest and the only cadet with street smarts and not book smarts.
Cyrus believed through all that blood, all that training, he would never experience a greater source of suffering.
And then Ackerson presented the greatest sorrow in the galaxy by taking a family member. For Headhunter's, every mission was a suicidal venture, and death was around every corner. Casey's reassignment may as well have been a funeral; the chance of Cyrus and Eliza seeing her again was improbable.
" As such, Spartan B-312 is being reassigned to my command. Spartan B-259 will take command of Reaper Team."
" Permission to speak, Colonel." Eliza's voice cut into the night.
"Denied." The Colonel stated with an iron voice. "Your objections have been noted and disregarded; Reaper team will continue mounting operations against the Covenant. While you Sierra B-312 is placed under my command to eliminate High valued targets within UNSC territory. This is not up for debate or reconsideration; these are my orders, and they will be carried out immediately."
" Reaper team will report to the hangar and be reassigned to the UNSC 'Dusk'. Sierra B-312 will remain on this cruiser for her next upcoming assignment."
" Colonel." The Colonel shot a cutting look towards Cyrus, silencing his objections.
" You're dismissed." Ackerson and Ambrose disappeared into the void, leaving him and his team alone to toil in their own misery.
Eliza broke first, cursing a string of expletives before storm off. Casey's removal was a blow to her heart, and she was the most emotional Spartan in Reaper Team. Cyrus watched the CQB expert march into the darkness; his eyes trailed back to the enigmatic former leader of Reaper Team.
"Casey?" The Spartan III dipped her head, a moment of vulnerability circulated through her frame. This team meant everything to her, and now she was losing it, not because of action against the Covenant or insurgents but because of bureaucracy.
It left a bitter taste in his mouth.
" Do me a favor Cyrus," The Headhunter raised her head. "No matter what happens, promise me you'll survive. Both of you."
" We will. Goodbye, Casey." She placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly before striding into the howling dark.
Cyrus' environment changed on a dime, leaving him standing on the bridge of a UNSC Prowler a foot away from the command center's viewport. The glass panes allowed him the opportunity to revisit one of the harshest events a human could ever witness.
After Casey's removal from Reaper Team, Cyrus and Eliza were deployed to Minab. One of the few occasions ONI allowed the utilization of a Headhunter team during a planetary invasion.
In the end, they never deployed to the planet at all, the ONI asset they were originally supposed to retrieve wa skilled before their arrival. ONI then determined Cyrus and Elize were too valuable to waste on a worthless outer colony.
The ship's captain almost left orbit when Cyrus made a request. He never got to see firsthand a Covenant glassing in all his years of service, and he needed to experience that dreadful taste.
Cyrus observed the outer colony's glassing for an hour, eyes always trailing a Covenant Battlecruiser making a tertiary strike with their Profero-pattern energy projector. On occasion, a Cruiser would disregard the plasma lance and utilized a broadside from their plasma batteries. The effect was all the same, brutal yet efficient.
Cyrus' nightmares always came back to this moment in his history. All those years of training, physical augmentations, and lessons did nothing to save this planet. It was a stark reminder that a Spartan could not do everything on his own.
' You will become the best we can make you.' A voice enhanced by a singular MJOLNIR helmet ricocheted in the darkness.
Cyrus' vision blurred, the scenery before him changed abruptly. His eyes glanced all around him, uncovering nothing but the eerie stillness of night. Until a podium abruptly appeared shining in the dark, and a recognizable figure stood upon it.
Lieutenant Commander Kurt-051, a Spartan-II whose sole purpose in life was to train more wolves to send against the overwhelming Covenant horde. Lone wolves that were not meant to last longer than a single suicidal mission.
' Silence of the eagles, gathered by the shepherds. Unleashed upon the wolves hunting the helpless sheep.' A chorus of a dozen other distinct voices mixed in with the previous incantation, a memento of his time in Beta Company.
Gradually, Cyrus was surrounded by three hundred Spartan III's standing at parade rest. All of them bearing the insignia of Beta Company emblazoned on their Semi Powered Infiltration suit. His eyes trailed down to his chest, taking in his own set of SPI armor granted him by Colonel Ackerson.
" Cyrus?" A helmet took up his vision; Cyrus recognized the Spartan III leaning towards him before turning towards the Lieutenant Commander. "You ok, man?"
" I'm fine, Jonah."
The Spartan backed away from him, eyes shooting back towards their commanding officer. "Look like you've seen a ghost."
" I," Cyrus paused, the words caught in his throat as his eyes searched the room for the infiltrator.
Jonah was gone, vanished much like the ghost he had jested about. A Spartan III he recognized as Levi B-010 snapped a salute towards Lieutenant Commander Ambrose. Suddenly Levi turned on his heels breaking from formation and marching confidently into the darkness, never once hesitating in his act.
One by one, Cyrus watched silently as more of his brethren walked into the black. Never to return and only to be remembered by those who walked the same damning trail. Cyrus held no illusions to the end of the path he walked, death was his finality, and he was not yet ready to meet that conclusion.
Soon all that remained were a handful of Beta Company members, two of which belonged to his former team. Eliza flashed in front of him, followed by Casey emerging next to her.
' This Duty will become your life,' His partners intoned softly. 'This life will become your tomb.'
The pair grabbed each of his shoulders, dragging him into the dark; Cyrus was frozen, unable to move as his vision was clouding over. A weight was gradually developing in his lungs snuffing out his oxygen.
He couldn't breathe; vision had gone dark.
His strength was useless.
Cyrus was drowning in a vacuum of space.
Illabye - Tipper
His ears perked at the intrusion of a familiar and welcomed tune. The weight that had settled on his lungs slowly dissipated and his vision gradually came back to life in a burst of color.
Cyrus's frame shot up suddenly, wearing only his bodysuit; the environment he resided in was a complete contrast to the desolate blackness he was previously in. He was lying in a beautiful field of grain native only to a place called Camp Currahee.
Cyrus remembered visiting this field nestled in the deep forestry of Onyx with his company. Mendez would cut the cadets loose after a stressful six month period. He allowed them to walk the fields under tight supervision from their instructors. The rising sun orbiting Onyx was the first time he ever truly appreciated the majesty of dawn.
A peaceful silence finally encompassed his entire body, the beauty of early dawn was a scene he would never forget. His crimson eyes shined brightly as he stared into the horizon.
For the first time in months, his dreams didn't end with regret.
He pondered how long that would last.
Not much to add except the final part was heavily inspired by Zacatecas 'Rally to me'. Not sure why but his incorporation of illabye was something I enjoyed immensely.
A lot of you seemed to want an elder scrolls crossover in the near future, so I may start an outline for that in the coming weeks.
Starting now I will be uploading my chapters every Sunday. So I will post at the bottom of each chapter went to expect the next one.
I will spend this week actually going back and making grammatical changes in all previous chapters so the next one will not be until Febryary 14th unfortunately. If I finish the changes quickly you can expect a chapter on the 7th, but that is a maybe at this point.
Like always I hope you enjoy it, criticism is always welcomed. Please leave a review if you have questions or just wanna say hello.
Hope you have a great rest of your week.
Next Chapter: February 14th.
Edit: Yes I put January on accident.