Myomer strained against muscle. A hand of plasteel grappled a hand of bone and both pressed as hard as possible. A pinnacle of engineering contested the pinnacle of evolution.
The table under the elbows of David Martinez and Arnold Armstrong cracked audibly as their arm-wrestle continued, neither finding a great advantage in the current moment. If she was an accurate judge of it, David Martinez had greater potential strength in his frame, but not as much knowledge on how to leverage it properly. Meanwhile, her brother had long mastered his frame of flesh and blood, and continued a rigorous daily regime to keep both his strength and precision at their peak.
The precision part of his regime involved painting little figurines, because her older brother was adorable and spent entirely too much time fussing over little army men and little army vehicles. It was natural that he was the cutest, because he was an Armstrong, and Armstrongs were naturally the best at everything natural.
"Da-vid! Da-vid! Da-vid!" The three little girls chanted. Lucyna Kushinada and Spares were somewhat more restrained than Rebecca, but all were somewhat enthusiastic. It looked to be great fun, and their chanting was invigorating David Martinez.
She smiled and took another large bite of her sandwich. It was difficult to fully contain the bite in her mouth, because she had ordered an exceptionally large sandwich to fuel her exceptionally active metabolism. The price of having a superior body was greatly increased caloric intake, something she delighted in reminding lesser women of. Her lithe and trim figure complimented her broad hips and well-endowed chest. A beautiful specimen of humanity.
It was just common European wisdom. Ugly people were morally reprehensible. Your body didn't belong to you, it was something everyone else had to look at. To not make yourself as beautiful as possible meant that you didn't care about how much disgust you invoked in others, it meant that you didn't care about society, because you couldn't even care for your own body.
And Armstrongs were the opposite of ugly. The ugliest they got was her brother, and that's because his incredibly tough skin and bone structure made him look blockier than normal. She called him 'blockhead' growing up, and then he went ahead and got blockier when he was an adult. Hilarious!
She finished chewing and focused on the arm-wrestling match again. The girls were cheering, David Martinez was straining, and Arnold was… being pushed back…
She narrowed her eyes and set her sandwich down. Why was Arnold being pushed back? His strength was on par and his ability to use his strength was finer. Why was he currently losing?
She evaluated the scene again. David Martinez was straining. Arnold was straining. The girls were cheering…
Ah! She was also in a competition! She was losing the contest of cheering her brother on! This was unacceptable, the Armstrongs were the best cheerleaders in the world, so she would rise to the challenge!
Leaning forwards in determination, she began to pump her arms up and down while chanting. "Ar-nold! Ar-nold! Ar-nold!" Immediately, she saw her brother snort in amusement, but redouble his straining against the masterwork of cybernetics that served as David Martinez's arm.
Now it was a contest of endurance. Who would be the first to falter in their chanting? Who would be the first to falter in the struggle of titans before her? What crucial weakness would be opened up and forced to crumble behind the immense strength of the clashing giants?
Another loud crack alerted her, and at once she activated her sandevistan. It was not advised to do so while pregnant, but she would prefer having another check-up instead of being in the way of what was about to happen. She stood up slowly, and walked over to the girls, tapping Spares on the shoulder. Spares' optics turned towards her, now with her own speedware activated, and she gestured to move the other two behind a nearby concrete barrier. Spares blinked and nodded, standing to lift Lucyna Kushinada and leaving the lighter Rebecca for Victoria.
She made sure to take it easy as she did so, couldn't be too careful with things like this.
Her sandevistan deactivated as she crouched slightly, again being forced to go slow and easy just in case. A small headache quickly formed and then dissipated from the use of speedware.
The table beneath the straining arms of the two men shattered, sending fragments of reinforced plastic and ceramic through the air, most landing within a few feet of where the table once was.
Their brace broken, the arm-wrestle was forced to end as they accidentally headbutted each-other and staggered slightly. The girls blinked as their positions suddenly changed, before they turned their gazes up towards Victoria and Spares.
A man came over to yell at the two men, before blinking and relaxing, his optics brightening. David Martinez spoke, raising a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout the table choom, that should cover it, right?"
The man blinked, turning to look at the both of them, then at the table, then sighing helplessly. "Yeah… Yeah I guess it does, just… Just, please don't break any more of my tables."
"Apologies. It will not happen again." Her brother rumbled out, raising a placating hand. The man turned to walk away, going deeper into the open-air diner presumably to get a broom and dustpan.
She walked over again, the girls following her. She ignored the two men for a moment to inspect her sandwich.
A fragment of ceramic tile was lodged firmly in between layers of SCOP, sauce, and vat-grown vegetable slices. She inspected the rest of it, carefully considering the entirety of the sandwich for a few moments as conversation occurred behind her.
Bringing the sandwich up to her lips and taking another large bite, her teeth loudly crunched through the ceramic fragment, grinding the weak stone into a more palpable state. It took her a while before she could swallow it and give a proper judgment.
Turning towards her brother, she announced her findings. "Your debt has increased again. You have ruined my sandwich."
Arnold raised a blocky eyebrow at her as she brought the ruined meal up to her mouth to take another bite, crunching through another section of ceramic in the process. "Ruined?" He rumbled in an unimpressed manner.
It took her many more moments before she could swallow and reply. Eventually, she managed to grind down the chunk of clay and clarify her declaration. "Ruined. The taste is completely off now and the texture hasn't been improved at all by the addition. You owe me another sandwich." She stated firmly, bringing the sandwich up for another bite.
David Martinez and Rebecca quietly began to snicker. Lucyna Kushinada smiled. Spares stared. She kept up her mask of imperious disappointment (and chewing) even as happy warmth spread through her breast. Once more the remarkable antics of the Armstrong family lifts the mood of their allies. Total victory with a barest effort on their part.
The clash of blood siblings continued in their stares for a moment, before a small ringtone began. Arnold glanced down, before reaching into his straining pants and pulling out his fossil of a cellular phone. He flipped up the screen, and used his pinky to press the buttons (as the rest of his fingers were too large).
He nodded as the ringtone stopped, and he turned to the children to speak. "Lieutenant Martinez, Sergeant Kushinada, the meeting of officers begins soon. I suggest we begin traveling there now."
Adam Smasher had formed a Private Military Corporation, a perfectly suitable role for one such as he, and something she was satisfied to hear. As with any corporation, it needed more than just a handful of people to staff, and a large recruitment effort had been underway for some time now.
Some 200 or so people, a full company of soldiers and support staff, had been recruited and placed in various teams and with various leaders of various ranks. She was immensely glad that her brother had accepted the recruitment offer, as generous as the paycheck was. It was not like his old job, working for the SovOil secret police, but rather an open leadership role. That would certainly pay many bills.
She was less pleased to be denied a job (although she was still allowed to be on the ship). She wasn't an invalid simply because she was pregnant, and her pregnancy would be done with in… three or so months? She could absolutely handle a baby and a job at the same time.
Young David Martinez and Lucyna Kushinada had also been given jobs as officers. Interceptor Lieutenant Martinez and Electronic Warfare Sergeant Kushinada. Her brother, one of the new Assault Sergeants, was lower in the chain of command than David Martinez, but indirectly.
"You know you don't have to call me Lieutenant, right?" David Martinez spoke, even as the whole group began to walk towards the planned meeting location. Technically, she, Rebecca, and Spares were not required to be there as they had no official ranking, but it would be nice to see her brother's new coworkers.
"Yes I do." Her brother, ever the stickler for rules and regulations, calmly refused to consider the notion.
A conversation began in front of her, but her attention was drawn by the slight diminishment of mood from Rebecca when this subject was brought up again.
Slowing her pace to match the very short young woman, she leaned down slightly and began a quiet conversation. "Rebecca."
She looked up, pulled out of her thoughts, and blinked. "Oh. Vicstrong. What's down?"
Vicstrong was a new nickname, and she couldn't detect any insult in it. As it came from an ally, she would wear it with pride. "Your face fell when my brother spoke. Why?"
She waved a bright red cyberhand and chuckled. "Ah, no I was just remembering something. Don't worry about it, it's all good."
"Armstrong family wisdom tells me to worry for you regardless."
Rebecca flinched. "N-no really, it's noth-"
"Rebecca. Why are you sad?" Victoria interrupted the deflection without hesitation.
The short woman stared for a moment, false smile on her face fading away as she turned her gaze away. It was another few moments of walking before she muttered.
"Promise not to spread this around?" There was only one answer to this.
"On my name as Armstrong." She couldn't be anything less than herself.
Their pace slowed more, putting more space between themselves and the rest of the group. After a short time, Rebecca began.
"You ever feel like your chooms are about to do something that you don't want to? Something you'd prefer that they don't do either?"
"I know the feeling, yes."
"But you know that they're all in on the idea, and it's not a bad idea per say, but there's something about it that you really don't like?"
She nodded slowly, and the short young woman continued.
"...What… what do you do?"
Victoria hummed as she pondered the conundrum. If her allies wanted to do something that she didn't want them to do, but the action itself wasn't inherently bad. That was an issue, because anything she disliked was inherently bad, because she disliked it. The contradiction proved to be quite the puzzle to figure out.
"I would let them go ahead with the action, and prepare myself to tease them mercilessly after the action was completed."
A pause. The afternoon city streets bustled with traffic and conversations.
"...But what if the thing is gonna have them leave for a long time? And you don't want them to go?"
Victoria took in that new information. A conclusion came to her after a few moments. Her allies were planning on leaving Night City. Rebecca didn't want to leave Night City. The reasons escaped her, but the core conflict was apparent.
Her gaze settled on her brother's back. His back was soon replaced by another familiar back, one of the same build, attached to a bearded man who used to give her rides on his shoulders.
"Make them promise to come back."
It was something she didn't do back then, after all. It was therefore the best advice to give.
Another long pause before conversation resumed.
"Thanks Vicstrong."
She smiled. "I am Armstrong. We are the best moral aides in the world."
"Is that really true or are you just saying that?" The shorter woman snarked at her.
She gave an exaggerated gasp of shock. "Of course it is true! Victoria Armstrong would never lie about such bold and unverified claims!"
"Where's your 'best moral aides' certificate then?"
"They were stolen by jealous enemies, who desired the title for themselves."
"Jealous enemies huh? Is it the cabal of people who don't exist?"
"No, the organization of fictitious individuals. OFI for short."
Victoria's chest warmed as she saw her ally's mood slowly and visibly improve with the banter.
She was a beautiful specimen of humanity, it was something she was proud of.