[Good evening, Agent Washington. Welcome back to UNSC Revenant-]
"File 1977-Zeta Epsilon."
The Smart AI in the UNSC Revenant went quiet. Washington was tightening his jaws - the AI never went this quiet, no matter what situation.
[Apologies, Agent Washington. But that file does not exist.]
"File 1977-Zeta Epsilon!"
[I repeat, Agent Washington; that file does not exis-]
"AKL1603."
The Smart AI froze in place, her head slowly nodding before she finally opened her mouth again.
[Very well. Opening File 1977-Zeta Epsilon.]
"Oh my fucking god."
Cell was right- there were files hidden behind clearance levels.
Several folders were opening up and being scrolled through automatically- videos, audio logs, communication records between the Smart AIs.
The Mind Assembly- and evidence of them intentionally fostering and setting insurrectionist factions free.
Research and experiment logs, and the UNSC technology approved because of Insurrectionist activity.
Blue light from the holographic renditions of the biggest conspiracy were bouncing off his helmet.
As of this moment, he didn't know what to say.
So he said nothing.
He just observed.
-oOo-
Cell held up the biochip. To the window of the fading sunlight.
The grasses carpeting the ground just outside was still lush, but not much. The desert and dried soil still dominated the area between the headquarters and wall.
The relic, as the data his twin brother sent him had labelled this… thing.
"What do you think of it?"
Ram asked. The twin brother had taken his helmet off and drinking water. An Iguana (from who the fuck knows where) perching mindlessly on the Spartan 4's shoulders.
He was evidently pissed at his brother for revealing the face they shared to the public without his consent, but... he knew enough that being angry would not fix anything.
Cell sighed a little, dropping his head before shaking it. Chuckling.
The development team around them were just staring at the two in awe.
There was their president, Cell… and another Cell.
With the exact same haircut.
They had been introduced to Ram an hour before, but they still couldn't fully grasp the idea that Cell had an exact moving replica.
Maybe he did perfect cloning.
Or the easier answer being 'they really were twins.'
Cell himself had taken his helmet off. Brandishing the shard in his hands like it was switchblade. He turned his chair around, showing the shard to his employees/
"Any of you from Arasaka?"
Few of the researchers and engineers slowly raised there hands. Cell and Ram started to count the hands before both exclaimed 'Wow!' in unison.
"That's a lot!"
"You guys all seriously get kicked out? What for?"
"… Apparently they didn't need us anymore."
"Well, shit. More losses to them, am I right?"
"Probably."
"… Yes, sir."
""See?""
Cell and Ram gave each other a look and a smirk before turning back to the chip.
"Any of you guys know what this is?"
"We've… we've kinda, heard about some of the development department working on it with Anders Hellman, sir." One of the researchers spoke up. "It was mostly rumours, about saving consciousness of rich and influential people until they were ready to be uploaded."
"Saving is stretching it." Ram commented bluntly.
"Is it…"
""Hmm?"" Both twins reacted in unison from one of the researchers speaking up.
"Is it… like those Smart AIs maintaining our network?"
Cell softly nodded, wobbling the chip in his hands like it was a pen.
"And how did you come to that conclusion?"
The researcher stammered when Cell pointed it out, using the chip as a makeshift wand and twirling it in his hand.
Some of the researchers gave each other the side eye at Cell's surprisingly fluid performance. Was it even safe for the chip to do that?
"I… um… I just."
"It's okay, I'm not trying to antagonise you, just trying to see where your thought process led to that conclusion."
"You've put the man on stage, Cell. It doesn't get more antagonising than that."
"I dunno, Ram. Could definitely think of more antagonising ways."
"Like?"
"Oh, I don't know… Shouting at them, calling them names, insulting them, having them at gun point."
"Right."
"The brain…"
The twins turned to the researcher, who had just enough courage to spit out the first train of thought but not courageous enough to stop his voice from crawling back in the moment it touched the air.
""Pardon me sorry?""
"The brain… I- I remember you answering our questions in how a smart AI was created, and what was the difference between them and a dumb AI. I… I remember being mesmerised by both kinds that you and the UNSC had perfected- the, the brain… take a brain and scan and replicate the neural pathway. The complete pathway, which destroys the original brain tissue. The…. Superconducting nano-assemblage was used, which generated a virtual neural network known as the Riemann matrix- the core and the brain of the AI. You said it was still inefficient, and was trying to find out how to improve it.
Would… would the Soul killer be a similar thing?"
Cell had a look through on his compad again as the researcher nervously looked at the two.
Cell nodded his head.
"Yeah, somewhat like that. Good critical thinking, spotting similarities. Yeah, you're right. It is like creation of Smart AI. The biggest difference is that it's very… primitive in it's approach, even through the inefficiency and relative primitivity of Smart AIs themselves."
"Could we… get an elaboration?" One of the other scientists spoke up, who was in the middle of going through the Smart AI design models to see what it exactly looked like.
"For Smart AIs, the full neural pathway is replicated. You effectively force all of it to activate when you send a high electric pulse. Kinda like how you force concrete into an anthill to see all the tunnels and rooms it branches and connects with. That's why it completely destroys the brain. The biggest problem with that is the neural pathways copied like that is still inefficient by AI standards. They don't need neural pathways for arms, or organs. So they reroute it, which naturally becomes this one spaghetti code that forces UNSC Smart AIs to have a lifespan problem.
My current research that I HADN'T just dumped on the research team is using forerunner technology to improve the process. You see, Forerunner technology had mastered and employed mind transfer technology to great extent. They even had the capability of translating an organic being's mental content into machine data through a technology called a composer, and back to organic material. Which meant they had seamless transitions between biological and digital states. They could upload an entire city into a computer, or upload a population into these robots. Or complete transfer a mind into a new clone. We call… They… They, They called it a… pattern transfer."
"Cell?"
"I'm fine. We- they, they! They because they found the mental content to be a complex series of patterns."
"Do you think Arasaka is capable of that too?"
Cell whipped his head around.
"No, that's a stupid question with an obvious answer. Forerunner technology heavily relied on quantum foam-based information storage and processing methods to even pull something like that. The only reason why UNSC considered my proposal in Smart AI improvement is because we only just managed to reverse engineer a forerunner durance to implement quantum foam-based computers in small numbers of UNSC carriers. Which, luckily, UNSC Revenant was one of.
Arasaka still relies on electricity of data transfer. UNSC had one of the most advanced binary computing and still had trouble building a full consciousness in computer material- do you think Arasaka's analog method could fully upload the full information of a human brain and consciousnesses?"
"I… well, if you say it like that…"
"Doesn't sound very viable, does it? Don't worry, you learnt something new today. But that's the problem. A consciousness is not very powerful in terms of electricity, true. But the patterns themselves are way too complex and subtle. Dendrites and neural synapses… If we were capable of knowing all the ins and outs of what makes a consciousness through just electricity, we wouldn't need these devices to map it and replicate it for us- we can just have a computer design it without all the hassle. But we can't, and that says something."
Cell held up the biochip. The relic…
That contained an engram taken from an individual the file reported as 'Johnny Silverhand.'
"This? This doesn't have much. Not as much as Arasaka expects. Memories and the most basic personality derived from the brain, sure. But that's all there is to it. It failed to capture more than 20% of the human neural pathway itself. But apparently they got the right 20% to fool these dumb asses that they can store consciousness."
Cell flicked the Biochip to the floor and turned around, the act alone inciting screams and a couple of "whoa!" and "Wait!"
"Oh relax, the Smart AIs already transferred the data in the biochip, that's just a husk."
Couple of looks among the group, the one researcher that had explained the possible connection to Smart AIs to the relic carefully picked it up.
"They'd think they copied the human brain. But electricity and analog systems can map a brain only so deep. You'd need quantum mapping techniques for that."
The researcher held the biochip up close to his face. It looked… so tiny, so… intricate,
Yet so hollow, for some reason. Deep down.
"But what about netrunners?" The researcher asked.
"What about them?"
"How can they be fine with, you know… moving through the network like it was 3D space, with only analog and electrical methods?"
"Ah." Cell exclaimed as he brought up a 3D map. The researchers shuffled up close for a more detailed look at Cell at work. Ram, on the other hand, leaned further back into his chair, taking a couple more sips from his glass of water, before pulling up his own 3D map of quantum foam to take a look at what Cell was making.
A Riemman matrix. A very basic one, no memories or predefining personalities.
A blank slate.
"Now you're asking the smart questions. But that too, has a rather simple and clear answer."
"Does it have something to do with the implants?"
"Of course. Specifically the implants connecting whatever wires are going to the electrical net to the still living brain. Most of the visual processes, I've heard from a couple of you who experienced going through the net, is like… series of dots of varying colours forming walls and floors and icons. Am I getting that right?"
"Yes, sir. It… it felt like waves, and some forming faces or objects."
"How clear are they?"
"I… not… not too clear? It mostly just forms the outlines."
"And when you get out of the net, do you still remember what you saw clearly? Or do you just remember the key informations?"
"The latter, sir."
"I see. Good. What other natural processes can you tell me that does something similar?"
"… I don't really know sir."
"It's easy, but to whoever answers it first, I'll throw you in a chocolate bar for your dinner menu's desert."
"A… dreaming?"
"Langstrom, expect a chocolate bar to be served for you along with whatever desert we're having for dinner. Most of the implants on the neural pathway sends electrical signals to either enhance certain brain functions or, in the case of net runners, induce imagery and functions similar to a brain under REM sleep. Only thing different is that it also induces signalling to keep your brain conscious. The result? Lucid dreaming, counting electric sheeps."
Cell then brought up the transferred details of the relic- a digital matrix, that when placed right next to the Riemman matrix looked so basic. Way too little in the neural mapping caught, distinct and sizeable patches missing on what looked like the outline of a brain.
Cell was wading through the matrix to connect the relic's copied neural pathway.
"Cell, are you sure you know what you're doing."
"We both went through the composer prototype, reached the Domain and had the sheer miracle to come back without getting absorbed by it. I… think I know what the fuck I'm connected."
"You forgot to connect this part to here."
Cell turned his chair around to face Ram's 3D mappings.
"… Which part?"
"This part and here." Ram pointed. "You'll be wiring the wrong parts if you leave gaps here."
"… Right. Forget you saw me fucking up."
Ram snickered as he brought the glass to his lips.
"Like hell I will."
Cell sighed as he turned his chair back towards his table, following what Ram had pointed out and fixing it before his work went south.
And soon, the neural maps were completed. All it needed was for that 20% to find the new quantum mappings of the brain and imprint it's patterns.
"The more recent net seems to have modelled its remains after such experience. Good for them, because it now makes it less taxing on the brain to go into the net through implants. Electricity has its uses- it can input functions, but it's quite terrible at the current state to capture the outputs. That's why most of the data you do get is stored in the implants, not the brain. Hard to get it out of that grey matter."
A cloud of quantum, pictured visually as a hologram.
Soon the quantum mappings of began to take shape.
Smart AI technology had a significant step forward with Cell, Ram, and the acquired Huragoks' contribution to the quantum foam network.
The Smart AI, wearing sunglasses, a bulletproof vest over a sleeveless shirt and a robotic right hand, looking disorientated as he started to walk in his hologram body.
"So Arasaka's claim of selling immortality to rich and influential people…"
"They didn't improve their technology for the past 60 years or so. Hell, they didn't even make this product themselves, according to files and records recovered, it was a single individual named Alt Cunningham that designed everything from scratch.
Do you know what that is? That's crushing dried weed, squeezing out toad oil and grabbing buttercup extracts and placing them in a boiling cauldron. Whatever goop coming out having the labels 'cure all medicine and tonic' on the front of the bottle and sold for 5 thousand coin. They've barely stepped a foot into the field of practice, but came back out immediately with some quick cash grab. This isn't just incompetence- it's a scam. A fraud. It's weaponized incompetence for profit.
I'd commend them on at least showing me the first significant progress in their technology… but like I said, it's not even fucking theirs."
Cell was reading the compad as the newest Smart AI started looking around his surroundings. He soon threw the compad on the table and smashed it with his MJOLNIR gauntlet in frustration.
At least Alt Cunningham had been looking in the right direction.
But she apparently didn't measure the right distance, for whatever reason.
[… Where the fuck am I? Who in the fuck are you?]
Johnny Silverhand expressed with frustration and annoyance.
Articulation of speech and clear signs of a personality. Good.
At least whatever was in the biochip was enough to form some sort of coherent and functional Smart AI.
"Welcome back to life, Johnny boy. This is my Kingdom Come."
[… Fuuck… I need some fucking nicotine for this shit. Does your place at least have some Cigarettes?]
Cell snickered. At least there was a reason why Arasaka thought his 20% was their 100%.
This thing looked human enough with his responses.
"Not in the quantum foam. You can ask your friends to code one in for you later."
[A quantum what? What kind of nerdy mumbo jumbo are you spouting out of your ass?]
Cell stood up from his chair, tapping a bit more on the holographic panels before a he opened a drawer and took out crystal data chip.
Johnny Silverhand's matrix was downloaded and imprinted onto the quartz crystal, almost like he was sucked into it in a blink.
The data chip glowed brightly, like a small star.
Completely different to the steel and plastic biochip it was previously imprisoned into.
Cell turned to Ram.
"Can you go get Locust for me? I heard the Baba Yagas were temporarily pulled of from Project Freelancers and on a break."
Ram already knew what Cell was planning, but he could do nothing but chuckle and sigh.
After all, it was them that brought the chip and data here. Guess it was time to own what they stole.
-oOo-
Locust heard his Comm-link spark up while he was finishing up his steel plate clean in the cafeteria.
God bless the meat, Locust thought to himself. The beef was far better than whatever emergency rations the Rakshasa variant MJOLNIR was supplied with.
[Hey, Baba Yaga Leader. It's Ram.]
"I heard you were meeting your brother."
[I am. He needs you for something.]
"… I'll be there in 5."
Locust didn't really need further questions. He was told that he was needed, and so he would go.
Most of Fireteam Baba Yaga had separated into several smaller groups right after they were notified that they would be put on break after the emergency conference.
Jim had went off to the new bunkers for rest, Leon had gone to see the city as a civilian.
Then there was Killshot and Noble 6. Now without armour, and now no longer needed as a merc for the moment- had gone off on their own mission.
To find Leonard-131's family.
Locust had no problems with that. He didn't exactly know what to do either.
He thought about joining Leon on sightseeing (which in Locust's perspective, could effectively double as intel gathering), but had decided to prioritise getting used to the new UNSC base.
Locust stood up, the cafeteria was bustling with new faces. From simple employees to new engineers and researchers, to new marines.
The tables were perfectly placed and aligned, and each seat filled.
Locust took his plate and placed it on the bin as he left.
He was still in his armour, sure. But at least he could take off his helmet without worry now.
Turns out, according to the employees- his face was just as intimidating as his Locus helmet. He traced his fingers across the several scars he had acquired throughout his life.
Figures. Though Leon's scars were just as worse.
He ignored the eyes focusing on him and his face, his scars, as he stopped in front of Cell's personal office and lab. He knocked on the door and waited.
"Locust?" Was that Cell's voice? Or Ram's? Despite their differences in personality, their speech pattern and inflections were still too identical for Locust to differentiate.
"Yes."
"Yeah, come in. It'll be quick."
Locust opened the door to be met with a glowing data crystal chip on the table attached to the right wall.
His eyes drifted from the light to Cell and Ram, slouching in the corner as they ate chips and watched the 2020 news of the Arasaka Bombing. The iguana had been placed in his own makeshift enclosure that was probably set in better living conditions than Yorinobu's penthouse. Ram had fed him the grubs and larvae Cell had created from genetically modifying the genetic materials of SCOP remains.
A shocking sight, the radiation had apparently killed thousands. A terrorist, they called Johnny Silverhand.
"Sup."
"I heard you need me."
"I did. Want a chip?"
Locust shook his head, and Cell shrugged before he gestured to the table with his chin. "Your loss. You see the data chip over there?"
"I do." Locust picked up the data crystal chip as he answered.
"Good. That's going to be your newest Smart AI."
Locust blinked a couple of times before he turned to completely face Cell.
"I already have BUTLR."
"Which is a dumb AI."
"I don't need a Smart AI."
"More like you don't trust a Smart AI. That's made with the biochip you brought to me. Johnny Silverhand, he calls himself."
"And?"
"Do you have any new missions from Agent Washington?"
Locust sighed as he shook his head.
"He looked busy."
"Probably because of the revelation. Then here's a personal mission I can suggest to you. You can find out what exactly happened to Silverhand."
"The reason?"
"You got something better to do? You're gonna sight see Night City, right? Might as well try and find out the thing you stole and just dropped on my lap until you get your next job from Wash."
Locust thought about it silently. He flipped the crystal chip around in his fingers and palm.
… Locust sneered at himself. Guess he really didn't have much to do himself.
And the final heist had way too many inconsistencies and itches that lingered in the back of his mind.
Wouldn't hurt to hunt for the truth.
"Are you sure that you want to just hand over something like this?" Locust asked the final time for some confirmation.
Cell only returned with a snicker and a blunt answer.
"You ask me that like it's something important."
"It's important for Night City."
"But it's not important for me."
Locust wobbled the chip between his index finger and thumb a size much smaller than his thumb, before he plugged the chip into his neural interface.
[What the fuck is this shit…]
Locust could see the holographic avatar of Johnny Silverhand walk across the room, completely invisible to all by Agent Locust.
[Gotta get out of here…]
Johnny Silverhand was briefly glitching out, walking back and forth restlessly like an animal before hitting the back of his head against the wall he was leaning on.
[What did you fuckers do to me…]
Was this Smart AI even safe? What was the risk to benefit ratio? The Smart AI looked too volatile to use.
The Smart AI was shuffling up to Cell, trying to punch him - only for the body to completely phase through the man.
[What the fuck-]
Johnny felt the back of his head, then touching the rest of his body, before touching a table.
Of all the things he pushed against, the last one seems to have caused his avatar to effortlessly give way, phasing through like before.
[… Fuck…]
The Smart AI was starting to glitch, in and out in blue rectangles and pixels.
[I can feel our minds connecting… fucking chip.]
[Like mold on a fruit… except, I can't creep further.]
[It's just a copy of the engram - I'm out there somewhere, gotta be…]
"What's the function of the Smart AI?"
"Doesn't have one. We just imprinted the remains on a blank slate. Though if the record and his personality tells me anything, most likely for combat support."
Locust breathed heavily out his nose in slight frustration.
"That's honestly something for you to figure out. Now, you can do your own thing."
Locust nodded at Cell, before looking at Ram.
"I'll call you when I need you."
"Hopefully I won't be in a difficult position to answer."
Locust knew Ram enough to know that was positive confirmation on his part.
Locust nodded at Ram before he walked out the door.
-oOo-
Sasha rocked her shoes back and forth on the Metro getting the muscles in her calves to relax after running around for so long in her previous gig. The rattling
The sun was setting in the horizon behind her, bouncing the light off inside the metal bars that supported the seats.
It was still bright.
Sasha looked over her shoulder into the window behind her.
The Metro had travelled enough distance for the sun to be covered by the newest Reds and Blues building.
Compared to the deteriorating concrete plastered with neon advertisments lining the distance between the Metro and the Reds and Blues Tower, mixed in with the more industrial and neon futurism designs of the surrounding tower, the new Tower built was sleek. Silver, with glowing blue lines faintly tracing the edges of the tower.
The only thing close to its design was the Arasaka tower to the right of it, and even then despite how similar they were in architecture and aesthetic it was ultimately contrasting- Sasha didn't know that silver monoliths with blue neon lights subtly placed could make it look so inviting and intimidating at the same time.
Then she realised why. Both had used blocky, angular designs. But only the silver monument had decided to factor in strategically place in curves which overall- made it look more like several small blocks of buildings combining into one.
Then again, there was that funny little logo of theirs. A red Spartan helmet with a flaming blue ball stuck to the back of it.
'Because these Spartans, for all their appearances, aren't machines made to be unbreakable. They were people who bled, broke, and sometimes didn't even come back. They knew this, THEY KNEW THIS! THEY KNEW THE COST! And they still walked! Still fought! Because it was the only thing they knew, and that was what a Spartan was.'
Sasha sighed a little as she saw the light bouncing off the tower, each flash of sunlight shining around the outer edges of the architecture brought a few snippet of Cell's rant she heard with her sister on TV.
Last time she went there, she almost failed the Biotechnica heist gig by spreading Securicine out into the public.
And quite possibly the last time she met with Noble 6 face-to-face.
The distant siren going below them, was it NCPD or Trauma Team this time? She didn't know, but her bets were on Trauma Team. Only one of them put the siren on for cash, after all.
Advertisement of Nicola busted through one building that the Metro travelled past, the funky J-pop music in the background saturating almost everything like the neon.
"Look at that, Randy. Reds and Blues."
Sasha overheard the conversation within earshot, maybe a couple seats away and opposite to her.
"What do you think?"
"What do I think? About what, the Spartans? Scary, big… hell, one of them beat the ever living shit out of Adam Smasher in front of an Arasaka-owned motel! I ain't fucking with them."
"True. Turns out that gang activity had fallen in areas that have Reds and Blues facilities."
"But what makes you think that's what Reds and Blues want, right? 'To protect us', sure. I bet they'll uphold that until they get one bad day, or one profit loss. I'll bet you 50 eurodollars that they'll just turn into a new and stronger Arasaka the moment they got what they wanted."
"That's why they give us free health care?"
"Yep. Think about it, what other way to get big amounts of support and fame than giving away that kind of stuff for free? Just one big coordinated publicity stunt. I swear."
"Man, whatever. I've already heard him rant on live TV, at least he's honest about himself, calling his own stuff 'a propaganda'. Besides, my 8 year old baby girl was fixed right up cuz of them. For the past 4 years, do you know what Biotechnica-owned hospitals told me? That she won't live long without their medications and treatment… they sucked me out of 10,000 eurodollars each month just to keep my daughter alive. She can walk again, Jimmy! I woke up early for work today and saw my daughter playing hopscotch with the other kids! I don't care if it's a publicity stunt, at least their idea of an effective marketing method is helping someone else out with no strings attached."
"… Yeah, actually… can't argue with that. Guy's definitely one of the most unstable gonk I've seen on a CEO seat, but at least he's honest. Makes him a lot more unpredictable and scary, though."
The Metro briefly stopped as people stood up and walked out, and at the same time more crowds came bustling in.
Now that they mention Spartans, the Afterlife had been buzzing all about the Baba Yagas.
Ever since the fight, more clients and Corpos had been vying for their service, and by the sound of it the fixers were pained to let them go because the star of the show just wouldn't pick up their damn phone.
They were silent, almost as if they disappeared. Why? They completed the heist, one way or the other. No one on their side died. So what was the problem? What made them all disappear like that?
Then the conference made it clear- Baba Yaga was just as much like Adam Smasher or Morgan Blackhand- mercs directly working for companies.
In some way, that was cred in of itself- only legends worked personally for Megacorps, the fact that you managed to get a position like that meant a lot about your skill.
The Boogeymen weren't as identical to Morgan and Adam's situation, but it still showed off their skills nevertheless.
The Metro started to get cramped - Corpos of different affiliation were standing up, facing the window and grabbing the yellow handrails.
But among the crowd, Lucy's netrunner experience guided her eyes to blinking green lights on some of the Suit's neck.
And out from the socket, came the shards shooting out and into someone's hand.
Picksocketing, rudimentary forms of a quick hack and netrunning skill. Unlike big heists, these barely fetched enough cash to be a worthwhile business.
Still, if you were lucky- and knew exactly which target to pick- the data on the shards you stole could be made as hefty money on the black market.
Sensitive information, compromising data… all kinds of things.
Few of the crowds blocked Sasha's view on who the picksocket was, and she naturally brought her hand over her own neck socket.
But when she saw who was going around swiping shards, she snickered.
White hair and red make up, with a kitsch mixed with neomilitaristic netrunner outfit.
Sasha knew who it was, and despite the picksocket also being part of Maine's crew, she still couldn't believe that the netrunner would still spend her free time doing something like this.
Lucy quickly swiped the final sharp as she speed walked through, before her own eyes landed on the cat-like netrunner sitting on the bench.
"Hey, Lucy." Lucy smiled at Sasha as Sasha waved at the younger netrunner.
Lucy looked at the shards collected in her hands, all from Arasaka suits, before pocketing them in her coat and sitting next to Sasha.
"Heard you and Maine went on a gig today. How was it?"
Sasha puffed up her cheeks a bit before sighing.
"You know, same old: I try to quick hack in with stealth but the moment it takes longer than expected for me to find something, Maine comes in guns blazing through the front door and make a mess of our plan."
"Maybe you shouldn't have tried that stuff on the Biotechnica heist. Now he's just antsy and worried over you pulling something like that again." Lucy replied with a snicker and a smirk.
"I know… Had to take a break for a while to keep things back down."
Lucy leaned forward, resting her chin on her palms and her elbow on her thighs. She turned her chin slightly towards Sasha.
"Oh yeah, and how was it?"
"Relaxing, I guess." Sasha answered while stretching her arms. "Visited our mom's grave. Told her what happened to Biotechnica. How was it on your end while I was gone?"
"Kiwi had to step in. You know how she is."
"'Never trust a soul in Night City', right? She still saying that?"
"Yep, despite teaching me how to quick hack and dumping me on Maine's edgerunner crew. Doesn't really like to be an official part of the group, would rather just get higher now and then for some high ennies in a gig."
"Guess she can relax again now that I'm back."
Lucy stayed quiet as she observed Sasha.
"You still trying to find that one Boogeyman?"
Lucy's question caught Sasha off guard. The black bob haircut flinching slightly as Sasha looked to Lucy with an expression mixing 50% of guilt and 50% of surprised.
"You… caught onto that?"
"That's what Dorio and Pilar kept saying. 'Miss Main Netrunner's currently taking time off to chase her knight in shining black invisible armour'."
"Goddamn Pilar and Dorio…"
"Guess that's true, huh?"
"I… it's not easy."
"I doubt it would be. I've heard from other netrunners about how hard it is to find anything about them. Not to mention how the Arbee's networks are virtually invisible. Like it doesn't even exist. Can't hack into it, can't even scan it. One of netrunners tried to go into the Arbee tower in the middle of Corpo Plaza to scan for any entry points. Nothing. Like it was just wood, or air. Optics couldn't even pick up the details of the walls or floors. They said it was scary how cold it looked, but honestly? Kinda figures. They came from outer space after all, got their own thing going on."
Sasha snickered. "Arbee?"
"Reds and Blues, R . R.B, Arbee. That's what everyone is calling them."
"Riiight, right." Sasha lightly mumbled as she nodded her head.
"And? Did you manage to find anything about them?"
Sasha shook her head, edges of the bobcut swaying in momentum.
"None, nada. Except for the few footages catching them fighting, which went wild after the Adam Smasher fight. Most of the things I found on Spartans and Reds and… Arbees, were just Cell's interviews and compilations of his rants. Other stuff were just baseless rumours turned into massive conspiracies theories."
"Right, so the usual corpo treatments."
Lucy leaned back on the seat, crossing her arms.
"Honestly, is there a reason you want to find out who and where the guy is? Curiosity? Potential profit?"
Sasha avoided Lucy's gaze, instead finding the ceiling to be surprisingly elegant and interesting.
"… Personal reasons." Was all Sasha could muster in public.
"Personal reasons?"
Sasha scoffed as she briefly turned to Lucy.
"You want me to say anything more specific than that?"
The corner of Lucy's lips curled up.
"No." She replied curtly, before adding in something- "But the Solo of Fortune Bodypillows are thinking about making the Baba Yagas into their newest merchandises. You know, with both the helmets on and off. I'll send you some of them to see if any of them's the one you're looking for."
"Lucy!"
Lucy only giggled when Sasha anxiously and weakly slapped her shoulder.
If Lucy had to pick between Sasha and Kiwi as a Netrunner duo, she'd sure pick Kiwi.
A large aircraft flew over the Metro, heading to the directions of the bad lands.
The logo on the side, printed with the Red Spartan Helmet with a flaming blue ball stuck to the back told the two everything.
"… You think they'd really change Night City?" Lucy quietly asked Sasha.
"… That's what most people are expecting, really. Free and cheap healthcare that's triumphing other medical centres, increase in employment rates, cleaning up the trash mountain in the outer edge of the city, cleaning the ocean from pollution and 'Saka mines, cheap naturally grown food. You tell me a year ago that All Foods would suddenly turn good and start printing out food with natural grown materials, I'd go deep dive into their net to see what they're hiding."
Scepticism was still present in the public opinion, but that seemed like something Cell was actively acknowledging and fostering rather than silence.
He was a strange man, but he had enough abilities to start gathering people's hopes and fanning them ever so subtly.
The Metro stopped one more time- people stumbling out to walk back home, while newer people walked in.
Some of the people had the Arbee worker uniforms still worn over them. Unlike the other suits, they looked more comfortable. Combat-ready. Sometimes they just a simple blue shirt with armour weaved and fused into it, and cargo pants at the bottom.
Looked more militaristic than the standard neo-militarianism the Corpos favoured for their outfits.
And unlike the standard Corpos, they still looked alive and energetic. Talking to each other, laughing, sharing a cup of coffee or a can of sodas compared to the silent passengers.
It was easy to know why. They weren't overworked and underpaid.
Local interviewers had asked people in clinics and Corpo Towers about the work condition. No one believed them at first when the workers replied that unless it was essential jobs like soldiers or paramedics, most were only required to work for 3 hours. Rest of the hours were break time- they could go out and chill, meet their family, or start on passion projects in the lab.
5 days a week, 3 hours a day. Also having paid holidays.
Militech and Arasaka representatives were quick to scoff at their work ethics, calling it lazy.
But results showed that productivity was all time high for Arbees. In fact it wasn't that far off from the other Megacorps.
Considering how much they forced their suits to work, that was huge difference, and evidence that Arasaka and Militech would rather cover for their own sake.
A few gang tried to touch them- as per usual. Mercs were hired to kidnap some of them for interrogation or for hostage.
Or assassinate for quick looting and specific Megacorp agendas.
Boy, did Arbee respond quick. Marines and ODST were dispatched in the area quick, didn't help that there was no way for the gangoons and gonks to jam the signal coming from the internal neurofaces. Installed too deep and materials too tough for standard equipment to remove, not to mention that whatever outfit they had been given for a uniform acted as bulletproof vests, dampened most of bullets that tried to hit them.
Rescue and neutralising threats were done in a flash, these people were trained to fight, and most that came from the stars had enough experience to deal with hostiles 10 times more deadly and aggressive as the standard grade A gonks roaming the streets with guns and chromes.
If those two weren't enough (and as of yet, those two were more than enough), everyone knew that Spartans would be sent out. That was the reason why they were often patrolling Arbee Facilities.
Every worker, every employee were accounted for. And according to interviews, that wasn't even part of the contract- no additional costs for getting hurt and being rescued by Arbee's private military force.
They had their own Trauma Team, and they didn't have to pay anything.
Morales for the company were all time high thanks to that, many had been severely injured at the start, true. But there had yet to be casualties.
Everyone in Arbee were accounted for. Once that was found out by Scavs and Maelstrom the hard way, barely anyone touched the workers now. It just wasn't worth it when it was all-risk and no-rewards.
If they did- like one of the Tiger Claws did on this metro, harassing a worker as the Arbee employees gripped the handgun in their holster tighter,
They'd be used to teach their chooms the hard way.
Tiger Claw member whipped out a mantis blade and tried to swipe the Arbee employee. Anger on the Gangoon's face visible and prominent.
But their chromed-up arm was caught mid swipe by a man roughly 2 metres tall, burly and looking down at the Tiger Claw member in his optics.
Tired half-closed eyes and short hair, barcode tattoo on the left side of his temple.
Everyone in the Metro knew the guys' face- it was caught on camera for all to see.
Especially Saburo Arasaka.
The worker pulled out their gun in response and fired at the Tiger Claw member.
Forced backwards by the firepower, the surrounding Tiger Claw members attacked, only to be swiftly getting kicked in their stomach until their backs caved out, knife brandished from inside the Nylon coat of Kenichi Arasaka- aka Spartan Killshot- quickly drove into a skull of another.
Another was hit with a spinning back kick- a crater was left as facial implants were torn off by the boots before they were sent flying outside the Metro and down 800 metres below to the floor. Spartan IV could bend steel plates and crush concrete with their bare hands, without their MJOLNIR. And against most of threats in Night City, that was enough.
The last one wasn't even dealt with by Killshot. The Spartan just watched as Noble 6 crept behind silently and smoothly in a matter of 2 seconds, before a punch to the ribs gave way to internal puncture and bleeding, and a knife smashed between the shoulder and neck finished the deal.
Tiger Claw would miss them, but they would know that any further retaliation can end in the death of the entire gang in Night City.
The Gonks had what was coming for them when they decided to assault an Arbee.
"… You know I had him too." Killshot muttered to Noble 6 as he cleaned his knife on shirts of the dead gang members.
"I know." That's all Noble 6 replied with. Killshot chuckled as he turned to the Arbee workers, dusting their shoulder.
"You okay?"
The worker blinked, their eyes darting from the barcode tattoo, going pass the sunglasses and down to Killshot's clothes. Nothing but black Nylon jacket and black graphene techwear pants.
What sort of fashion was this? Kitsch? Neomilitarianism? Entropism? It was a subtle blend of the three into one black mass of killing, that's for sure.
The worker had only seen these titans in their armour. Even without it, they were still intimidatingly big. Augmented muscles and blood vessels bulging popping out from the back of Killshot's hand.
"You're a Spartan…" The worker muttered.
"I am." Killshot replied with a smirk.
"… I was saved by a Spartan…"
"As expected. Right?" Killshot grabbed the edge of the worker's uniform, running his thumb across the emblem of Arbee.
Killshot couldn't help but snicker and chuckle again. Even now, the stuck emblem was an inside joke among the Spartans.
Killshot shook his head as he tapped on worker's shoulder. Even now, him and his fellow Spartans couldn't believe Cell would make an inside joke as the face of Project Freelancer.
"You didn't get hurt, right?"
The worker, as if snapping out of the trance, looked back at Noble 6 and Killshot, and quickly did what he had learnt from the UNSC marines and ODST.
He saluted. A shoddy imitation of the standard one, sure. A clear sign that the worker never really tried a UNSC salute until now, definitely. The worker's hands trembled slightly. Were they doing it right? They were unsure, they only just watched it as soldiers performed it to the ODST, and ODST to Spartans. And Spartans back to the Soldiers and ODSTs.
But the heart was there, and clear. Killshot's smile softened, and returned the salute in a more shoddy way.
Was it mockery? Of course not. It would just be embarrassingly clear to the worker that the angle of the elbow and hand were terribly off.
It felt like a lifetime's worth of respect for the worker, all condensed into one. This was what it was like to be part of Reds and Blues.
"Thank you…" Was all the worker muttered.
"What for? Just doing my job." Killshot looked back to Noble 6, gesturing him to grab onto the handrail.
Noble 6 walked past the workers, giving the same salute to them as he went past. The workers were too busy staring at the two Spartans, slowly turning so that their gaze can follow the Spartans as they moved.
Just 5 cm taller than Killshot, the young man stood right next to the Spartan IV, ignoring the whispers of the passengers as everyone stared at the two like they were heroes.
"Holy shit, so that's a Spartan…"
"I genuinely thought Cell was lying."
"Did you see his arm? It's thick!"
"So that's how they fight…"
"You think they fuck?"
"Katie!"
"What? You're curious too, right? Not bad on the eyes."
Killshot and Noble 6 briefly shared a glance together, deciding to ignore how the comments were quickly degrading into rather vulgar material.
"Did you find out you were looking for?"
Noble 6 asked.
Killshot sighed as it turned halfway into a chuckle.
They had been spending the previous three days going around all sections of Night City just to find any possible leads. Hell, they even went to Reilly, shared a few drinks, talked about what had happened.
'Wait- wait wait, so you're… Killshot? Really? I-I mean, I saw you on TV and everything and… fuck, an Arasaka, a Boogeyman, and a Spartan all rolled into one…'
She was still resting both her feet up on her table like last time, room wafting with smoke. Orange sunlight peaking through the blinders and hitting the desk, fan on the ceiling working slowly and did nothing to drive out the smell of tobacco.
She was in the middle of sending a merc on a gig, and had ended up taking a selfie with the merc.
Celebrity taxes? Yeah, of course Reilly charged the merc for it. But the guy was more than happy to pay, 5 eddies to take a picture with a living legend? That was evidence for a story he could tell his friends and crew over at the afterlife.
Noble 6 had been waiting outside when all of this went down, and Killshot had immediately rushed for the Metro once his and Reilly's conversation was finished.
Killshot brought up a phone with a shard plugged into the side.
"Yeah, I finally found David and Gloria Martinez's location."
Reilly pulled some strings. The network of fixers and mercs she managed to build all thanks to the reputation of Baba Yaga's first fixer had been very effective. Effective enough that such a small favour would have been 5,000 eddies for other fixers, but was free of charge for Killshot.
It was a series of guy knows a guy, who knows a guy, that knows a guy, that knew what Killshot was looking for.
It all ended up alternating between Mercs and Fixers before reaching a single Solo named Maine.
[Yeah-Yeah? Gloria Martinez? I know- know her. She's my Chrome dealer- dealer, finds chrome and implants at cheap price. I can hook you up with her for a deal- deal.]
'He's saying he can get in contact with Gloria Martinez. Though I never thought a Spartan would want chrome.'
'Because it's not the chrome. Tell him that I'm hear to meet Gloria Martinez in person, and private.'
'…'
[… What? Not about Chrome? Then I'd need some reason- reason why it's in person. I don't want it to be someone trying to bust- bust our ass.]
'Tell him it's family matters- I'm on behalf of Gloria Martinez's husband.'
'Oh, shit. Hold up, let me tell him that…'
[… Oh shit… Fine, I'll try contacting her. But if she says she doesn't want anything to do with it- it, no deal. Ok, Reilly?]
'He said he'll give Gloria a call, but if she doesn't want anything to do with it, no deal.'
'Tell him fine by me, but please tell her that I've got her husband's final words, that it's important for both her and her son.'
'Shit, I feel like I'm listening to something I shouldn't. Hold up…'
[… Yeah, I'll do that. I'll send- I'll send you the deetz the moment I finish.]
Maine had hung up, but it didn't take more than 5 minutes for Reilly to get the text.
'Oh shit, that was fast. Damn, Gloria gave you her address, huh? Here, I'll put it on a shard since you don't have anything I can really send over to.'
Noble 6 nodded his head as he looked through the details.
Santo Domnigo, Arroyo, Megabuilding H4.
"Guess where this Metro's heading."
Noble 6 looked out at the window of the Metro station.
The more subtle architects and empty roads, coupled with the train crossing over a big dirty river. Worn concretes and asphalts, half-melted Tar.
"Santo Domingo."
"You mind accompanying me a bit more? Could use some help if I happen to run into speed bumps along the way."
Noble 6 looked down on the dog tag in Killshot's hand. If he didn't know Killshot enough, he would have thought Killshot was an avid Dog tag collector.
"No, I don't mind."
"Sweet, thanks for the assist."
Sasha looked at Killshot, she knew him. She knew that it was Killshot, which meant he knew where Noble 6 would be.
But just as Sasha tried to stand up, the Metro station came to a halt. And just like that, Noble 6 and Killshot disappeared through the crowd both going in and out of the Metro.
"Wait!… Shit…" Sasha had no choice but to sit back down next to Lucy, and take the remaining route home.
For 2 metre tall giants, these guys knew how to blend in effortlessly.