DangerGal was primarily an investigative corporation, focused on the gathering of information and in operations that cooperate with local law enforcement wherever they are hired to go out to. They receive the details of a job from the client, they go investigate, and get the information out again. This was their primary money-maker and advertised service.
But, Trauma Team was also supposed to be an emergency health care service, and they carried some of the heaviest firepower in the city. The simple truth was that investigating the illicit actions of others was a very quick way to get people shooting at you. Most of DangerGal was in non-combatant members, girls that knew how to shoot a gun, and had a bit of skinweave, and an arm mounted taser for fuckers that don't listen to 'no'. They were the day-to-day operatives, the girls (and a couple boys) that most people called in for private investigator services.
But just like Trauma Team having custom AVs, ACPAs, and heavy armor infantry units, so too did DangerGal have their own elite units. The twenty-seven 'callsign' elite DangerGal operatives, the most dangerous girls (and guys, she wasn't forgetting about you two!) in the entire corp. Each one received a callsign based on the old NATO phonetic alphabet, and often had a specialty or two.
Alpha was overall field command when they had to deploy. He wasn't the best in a fight, but he could hold his own, and was good at coordinating everyone else. He liked to joke that he was the resident cat herder. He could joke about that all he wanted, she was still going to make fun of his silly captain's hat.
Echo was the girl in charge of handling the communications tech, and making sure that everyone got the orders that they needed. She was snippy and bossy and gossipy, but she was always on top of the situation. She was calming to listen to on a job, because you knew that she was watching out for you.
Sierra was the girl who was deployed for single-target eliminations and captures. Quick, efficient, calm, and dedicated to making sure she got the job done. She didn't let any setback trip her up on a job, but she was also way too gloomy. Also she smoked, which was gross and they had to tell her to go outside.
Whiskey was their chief medic, X-ray was the best stalker, and Mike was the public relations gal.
She was callsign Uniform, best at the technical stuff out of everyone. She knew how machines worked better than any of them, and could fix anything in under an hour with the right tools. She was the gal that was responsible for fixing everyone else's chrome, and worked with Whiskey to install the stuff. She was recently starting to regret her passion for robots.
Because she was the one that was told to give the super-terminator of Arasaka field repairs. To her right was a deployable cover block rated for about half the firepower it was currently blocking from potentially hitting her. In front of her was callsign Kilo, their resident ACPA jockey, who was making sure to shoot at anything that looked in their direction. To her right was a massive box of on-sight modular armor plates for quick chrome repairs.
Laying on the ground in front of her, glaring through a face that was half-burned to reveal a metallic skeleton underneath charred synth-flesh, was Adam Smasher. He hadn't made a single noise since she started getting her tools out, and she was thankful for it. She might die if he growled at her too loudly, the situation was stressful enough already.
She was performing field repairs on a super-borg while the entirety of the DangerGal elites were engaged against an army of cyberforms and a second super-borg that could throw lightning, protected by a single ACPA and a block of foamcrete. Needless to say, she was very glad her arms were chrome, they could only shake if she wanted them to.
Alright gal, one thing at a time. First step, diagnostics. She reached up and pulled the interface plug out of the side of her neck and reached…
She realized a problem. She stared at Adam Smasher, interface cord stretched out in her left hand. She was frozen looking at him glaring at her. His face was twisted into a snarl.
Cmon Uniform, you have a job to do. She swallowed down her fear.
"I need your diagnostics for repairs." She spoke out, voicebox carefully modulating her words to display nothing else than the absolute professionalism of DangerGal. There was a long quiet.
Well, quiet wasn't correct. They were still in an active and storming battlefield. There were constant gunshots, falling rain, and the occasional punctuation of booming thunder and a flash of light. Her point was more that there were no words exchanged for a few seconds.
He glared at her through a half-burned face. After a long moment, he growled out in reply.
"...I will fucking murder you if you try anything, meat."
That was possibly the scariest thing she had ever heard. She calmly nodded, and he reached up to pull out his own interface plug. The neck armor was welded shut there. Before she could reach over with her integrated metal saw, he got frustrated and ripped the entire section of neck armor right off.
The pain equivalent for something like that was like a normal person grabbing a sternocleidomastoid muscle and ripping it off. She pushed down her sudden urge to vomit, he probably had pain editors. He pulled out the interface plug, and she connected the two.
She immediately realized he didn't have pain editors, as she nearly flinched from the sudden and overwhelming vitals info feedback that she was receiving. Normally much of this was muted or dimmed in neural feedback 'volume', which was one of the nicer features of PEs. She activated her autoinjectors to give her a fresh and immediate dose of headache medication and tried to read through the information as the meds went to work.
It did not look good. Underneath the ruined layers of the (absolutely gorgeous layers of monocrystalline ceramic composite, ablative heat-dissipating ceramics, and foamed metal) armor were the strands of his heavily heat-damaged array of (beautiful fusion-powered contracting crystalline poly-nucleutide lattice) plasteel myomer. She couldn't do anything about the myomer in a field repair, but she could strip off sections of the damaged armor and replace it with (ugly and substandard mass produced plates, they shouldn't be in the same air as this frame).
The (hot and heavy, utterly marvelous and efficient) microfusion reactor had gone into automatic shutdown from its temperature spiking too high. He was now running off of (thick, girthy, high efficiency industrial standard) backup batteries, which should last him for another eleven hours of safe usage, she could ignore that for now. The biggest problem was the back, right arm, and left leg, all of which had been completely stripped of armor and the myomer underneath partially melted.
She could replace the armor plating, but the myomer was a straight wash in a field repair unless they had quick-change limbs of the same type and size. Which they didn't, because the back-up parts to repair Adam Smasher were an Arasaka corporate secret and kept under tight lock and key.
She gave his frame a final once over, wincing at the plate of hamfisted metal that he had clearly bent into shape as a temporary plate of back armor. It was like he took the hood of an armored car, tore it into a manageable sheet, and then bent it around himself like a stiff cape.
She let herself focus on the lack of pain editors again. She was acutely aware of what the sensors must be relaying back to him right now. Her experience in this exact type of repairs gave her information that was quite unfortunate to have at this moment.
…She ignored that for now.
Letting the world around her disappear, she got to work performing the cybernetic equivalent of a skin transplant on someone without anesthetic. She nearly vomited again.
—
All of the DangerGal callsign elites had been deployed to a singular battle. That was an almost unprecedented amount of firepower. Their non-elite members had been told to join up with the Arasaka security in and around the Smasher fortress and brace for a potential siege. Their twenty-six elites and the old man Zaburo had been sent out to support Smasher after hearing something quite unbelievable.
X-ray reported to mama through Echo, Adam Smasher was not favored to win his current battle.
It was understandable, upon hearing the reports from X-ray about the battle in progress as they moved to position. A century of cyberforms, a sextant of dronecars, a trio of cyberwalkers, and another one of the so called 'Ordo Panzer'.
DangerGal as a whole had something of a panic upon learning that there was an entire faction of what they had dubbed 'boomers'. Boomer was something of a joke term at first, a pun about atomic weapons, and was only applied to one individual before. Adam Smasher, boomer, a singular cyborg that could be reasonably expected to defeat a standard military battalion with full equivalent vehicle support. That was a very exclusive list indeed.
In all of DangerGals years of operations, they have never found more than about fifty such cyborgs. Adam Smasher, the nine DaiOni, and then various other individuals from other corporations and factions. Their most recent addition to this list was something of a 'what if'. David Martinez when installed in the Cyberskeleton was most certainly a Boomer, there was no doubt about that, but outside of it he was most certainly not.
Callsign Victoria was almost a Boomer. The simulations all showed the same result however, she simply didn't have enough armor to last long enough to defeat everyone. Any more armor, however, and she wouldn't be able to use her maneuvering thrusters as efficiently. She'd be slowed just enough to let even more damage through and thus die even faster. It was a private shame of hers. Her recent hobbies have included running through the DangerGal 'boomer test' simulations over and over again, and not much else.
The old man, Zaburo 'Zero' Kenichi, was also almost a Boomer. He could easily be one if he ever decided to upgrade his chrome, that much everyone was aware, but no. Zero had steadfastly stuck to an incredibly basic set of chrome. A gemini full conversion tuned up for reflexes and speed, a kerenzikov and boostmaster, emp shielding, and a set of thickened myomer. In a duel, he was nigh-unbeatable, but he simply didn't carry heavy enough weaponry to overcome armor elements.
No one else in DangerGal was even close to the coveted title. Others in DangerGal certainly had a half-decent chance at beating either of them, provided they get the chance to rig the fight in their favor beforehand. Boomer was a title reserved for the absolute strongest individuals, it was the plateau, the highest level of performance that any individual on the planet had even reached.
So when they learned there was an entire faction of possible Boomers, DangerGal fell into a massive panic for a little while. The first was 'Chandra Gupta', a potential Boomer encountered in the sewers by Adam Smasher. Adam Smasher had lost an arm, much of his armor, and many missiles in that fight. For the absurd acceleration thresholds the bot could reach, and the armor-defeating blows of panzerfaust it utilized, the simulations predicted that it was well within the 'boomer' category.
Then there was the attack in France. A second member of this supposed 'Ordo Panzer' had revealed itself, promptly fought through roughly two hundred elite security agents without a scratch, and almost killed Adam Smasher at the end of it. Slower and heavier than the first, but that kinetic redirection trick (which they were still convinced was mostly magic and not science) meant that attacks with any conventional weapon would be useless. Simulations showed that it was still well within the 'boomer' category.
Then, almost simultaneously, a third attack. Now at Night City again, and against Arasaka Tower itself. A singular bot that entered through the roof and fought its way down to the lobby, before getting on an armored bus and leaving with the surviving heavy infantry it had brought. A member of the ordo panzer, as it was revealed by its later fight with David M. The bot had crippled its combat efficiency out of arrogance, and still slaughtered an entire new gang and almost took out David M. and Lucyna K. Absolutely boomer tier when not falling prey to ego.
Now, another member of the Ordo Panzer had been spotted engaging Adam Smasher. Adam Smasher, who had been reduced to sub-standard weapons loadout, cut off from all external support, and confronted by more than just the fellow Boomer. It was a Boomer with a company of cyberforms, a squad of dronecars, and a trio of cyberwalkers. It was a Boomer that could throw lightning too, because why not.
So the plan going in was simple. Uniform and Kilo would protect and try to get Smasher some field repairs. Most of DangerGal would engage the cyberforms to hold them back or eliminate them if possible, and three would go engage the enemy boomer. Herself, Zero, and Yankee.
Yankee was their resident sniper. She got cyberarms and a linear frame just so she could use bigger and better sniper rifles. Of course, she wasn't actually using a proper sniper rifle. She was using a 12.7mm assault rifle with an elongated barrel. It was a smartgun, and it used smart bullets. It was very hard to avoid taking damage from a constant stream of very big bullets that were actively following you as you tried to dodge.
Her and Zero's jobs were simple. Engage the enemy and last long enough for it to fall to or retreat from the waterfall of laser-guided homing bullets, making sure to keep the boomer from attacking Yankee. Victoria scoffed under her faceplate. She'd do mama one better and kill the boomer outright.
The thing about large predators is that they almost never look up. She grinned, and let go of the glider. Rapidly, she started falling, adjusting her aim with the array of thrusters that covered the entirety of her modified copernicus full conversion frame.
She accelerated as she fell, pulled down with the terminal gravity of the earth. She got within range for her ECM to cover the battlefield. All at once, communications were flooded with the snarls of a mechanical lioness. She grimaced when she detected the ECCM cut right through her jammer. The boomer came prepared for jammer warfare, unfortunately for her.
Fortunately for her, it still wasn't looking up. By the time it did, after dodging a stream of bullets by moving behind cover, it was too late. The boomer had just used its sandevistan just before. Her sandevistan was good enough to beat its kerenzikov. That fact made her growl to herself, these boomers were fucking ridiculous with their speedware. A kerenzikov and a sandevistan were compatible in the same way cocaine and meth was, they should be loonier than a long-term asylum ward right now, not cognizant enough to speak.
Her prehensile, clawed feet crashed against one of its front arms. Her leg-mounted impact absorbers shattered under the force of absorbing her terminal velocity fall, she ignored the pain. The boomer had no such luxury.
She crashed into the ground like a falling meteor, and sent them both through the roof of the building and into the floor below. She hit the ground and rolled on it until she collided with a wall with a heavy boom. She pushed herself up as fast as she could, letting her jets push her up and digging a claw into the wall at the top of the now-shattered roof. She grinned viciously as she looked at her prey.
The boomer had lost its front-right arm in trying to block that, her clawed feet acting as an industrial guillotine to sever it in two places. She wouldn't be able to pull that off again, but she wouldn't need to. She had just taken one of the boomer's arms, the fight was almost guaranteed to be in their favor now. She glanced around and realized that Yankee would have to reposition to accurately fire at their target, oops.
She couldn't afford to slow down here, lest the boomer gets to throw lightning again. She lashed out with one arm, letting her claws detach and fly forwards like improvised throwing knives. She straightened her arm out and let another set fall forwards to replace them as she looked at where the boomer was going to dodge.
Boomer dodged left, she pulled her right arm out of the wall and deployed her pop-up netgun. A web of carbon nanoweave shot out over where the boomer was going to dodge to.
The boomer disappeared, and she was sent sideways. She rolled with the impact, ignoring the pain in her torso, and jumped again once her feet were under her. She stabilized in the air, and looked to see the boomer falling back down adjacent to the wall where she just was. She wasn't even sure if it had activated its sandevistan or not there. Her pain editors were operating in full capacity to manage the neural feedback.
She checked her vitals. Armor on the entire right side of her body heavily damaged, internal structure down to fifty percent. The boomer had activated its sandevistan, and had hit her multiple times in that instant. One instant. If the boomer still had its other arm, she would have died right then and there.
…Adam Smasher had been wrestling with it for close to fifteen minutes, it and its army of drones. She grit her chrome teeth underneath her faceplate.
From the shattered roof a figure dropped down. It was Zero, having finally caught up to their rooftop (under the rooftop?) battle with all of his absurd acceleration. She compared him to the boomer as they engaged each other. Zero was faster normally, but he would be significantly slower whenever the boomer activated their sandevistan.
He lept forwards in a Karate flying kick, the boomer blocked and attempted to counter. Zero twisted into an Iaijutsu stance and drew a monoblade to deflect the counter upwards. The boomer rose with the counter in a rising knee strike, which Zero responded with an Boxing elbow-block. Three entirely different styles used in about one second of combat.
Her sandevistan cycled again. She raced forwards, moving with the full acceleration of her verniers roaring. The boomer noticed and moved to attack her as she approached. She quickly raised an arm and slowed her own momentum just enough to avoid the attack, and continued into a clawing strike against its extended leg.
Her claws of orbital crystal tore out a chunk of armor and servo as she passed. Zero moved to capitalize on the moment.
The boomer's sandevistan cycled. Both she and Zero were sent crashing into a far wall again.
The boomer was gone, she looked up to see it standing on the far edge of the shattered roof. The boomer started speaking, even as it casually wove through a stream of homing bullets.
"That's four styles I recognized from you, old warrior. Tell me, how many have you mastered?"
She had only recognized three. Zero responded with the same casual manner of speech. "Oh, just about all of them I suppose."
As far as she was aware, he was telling the truth. Zero was old long before she was born, and was a master of just about every martial art on the planet. All except her own, which he didn't have the required chrome for, and panzerfaust. She had asked why he never tried to learn panzerfaust once before, in idle curiosity. He had answered simply, 'I would lose a bet'. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, exactly.
The boomer nodded, and lept backwards off the roof. She raced upwards, thrusters roaring. No fucker, you don't get to run away, she was intent on killing you.
As she rose above the rim of the shattered roof, she nearly cursed. She shot a grappling line from her left arm and let it pull her behind cover. The boomer was surrounded by the rest of its cyberforms, all with guns pointed in her direction even as they leapt away, some of them carrying metal boxes.
They were retreating
She snarled under her faceplate. She had the fucker on the ropes, and the coward ran away before she could kill him.
They got an alert to move back to the temporary fortifications. She grumbled. Yeah, that fucker better run. Zero had already leapt up to the rim of the shattered rooftop, and was staring at the retreating bots. He was glaring in his 'considering old man' sort of way.
They proceeded back, being careful to avoid open sightlines from the direction that the bot and all his drones retreated to.
They got back to the blocks of heavily damaged foamcrete, riddled with bullet holes. Smasher was there, struggling to stand up, leaning on his sword like a crutch. Besides her, Zero flinched at the sight.
Mama was there, in front of Alpha with her hands in her coat pocket. She was smiling gently, but in a 'mopey sierra-esque' way.
"...Hey Adam, sorry we took so long."
Adam Smasher glared at her, completely still.
"...Get the fuck away from me."