[Goooood Evening, Night City! My very special guests tonight are actually people we had to pull some strings into joining with us! They're Cell and Genjiro Kurosawa of Reds and Blues!]
Cheer from the audience seat as Genjiro walks in with a smile, firmly shaking Ziggy Q's hand while Cell comes in completely confused where to look. Purple Engineer variant MJOLNIR seems to have become an icon, judging by how many people were clapping in response to Cell entering the stage.*
[Welcome, to the two of you! Tell me, did you try looking at the streets you made cleaner? Or did you prefer to fly here on your space ships?]
[Oh, Genjiro took the military truck from the Reds and Blues tower to here. I took the Pelican.]
Genjiro smiles at Cell and the camera in response to Cell's nonchalant light response.*
[Haha! Spoken like the man from the stars! Right, right. And have you saw how your actions influenced Night City? I mean, free health check up and health care for kids, and much cheaper health care for the adults! Not to mention the free cybernetic implants repair! Tell me, what were you thinking when you decided on that?]
Genjiro was the first to open his mouth, as Cell was checking if the couch was safe enough for him to sit on.*
[Well, Ziggy. Most of Reds and Blues were thinking about successfully renovating the properties we had brought from Biotechnica, and most of the work ethics and politics within the Biotechnica-owned facilities did not fit the vision of Reds and Bl-]
Cell finally sits down on the couch, the cheap material giving way the instant Cell let his weight be supported by the couch. Genjiro visibly bounced up by the force before falling back down and sliding next to Cell, the Couch having been bent all the way until most of the frame touched the floor. Cell looked at Ziggy as Genjiro was interrupted by Cell sitting. Audience laughs at the display.*
[I was thinking that a good potential client is a healthy potential client.]
Genjiro looked to Cell. He was his saviour and president, sure. Definitely was someone Genjiro will stay loyal to. But god damn wasn't the CEO frustrating to deal with in public sometimes.*
[A good potential client is a healthy potential client! That is… surprisingly accurate mindset for a Megacorp, isn't it? Efficient at least.]
Ziggy Q played along, gesturing to the audience.*
[In fact, could anyone from the audience seat who had gotten the free health check ups, tune ups, and health care stand up? Let's show Cell who benefited from the Starman's grace!]
Few starts to stand up, some with the repaired implants, others who stand up holding their toddlers in their arms. Soon enough, nearly half or more of the audience are standing up, looking at Cell.*
[15, 20, 25… Well would you look at that! Nearly over half! Now tell me, among these people, do you see anyone that's Spartan material?]
Genjiro couldn't answer this. Reds and Blues products? Those were his expertise. But Spartans and ODST weren't Reds and Blues products. That was solely Cell's field of expertise.
Cell shrugged as he sank into the half bent chair.*
[Wouldn't you like to know, Ziggy boy. I'd have to see them fight to get the general gist.]
[Are you sure? Why not that toddle over there?]
Cell snickered under his helmet.*
[Too young to be a soldier, Ziggy. What do I look like to you, Arasaka?]
[Well, with how you carry yourself, I could've mistaken you for a robotic version of one! Now, speaking of Spartans- why do you have them and your soldiers patrolling around the streets? It's not like you own Night City, right?]
[No, but I own the facilities they're patrolling around. Not to mention my Company's workers coming day in and day out. Or to the ones that chose the night shift, night in and night out.]
[So you're saying it's for safety? To keep your workers safe?]
[What the fuck else would they be for, Ziggy? Do you ask this to Militech and Arasaka too? About why they have their fucking two legged robots having their laser sight pointing everywhere while the Militech soldiers are fiddling with it, or having their finger on the trigger every time a civilian walks a little too close? At least our Spartans and ODST takes pictures with the kids and the adults whenever they ask nicely. When did Adam Smasher do that for people?]
Ziggy was nodding his head in a subtly mocking manner, smirking as he tilted his head. Genjiro looked at Cell and gestured lowering his hand repeatedly. Cell understood what that meant and held up his hands in defence and agreement. Fine, he'll tone it down.*
[And do you think it's working? Your patrols?]
This time Genjiro spoke up.*
[We've had some shootings occurring due to gang members and mercs trying to infiltrate our facilities and attack our workers, true. But as of it, workers may have been injured but none were casualties, and many are back to full health and working again on their own terms and-]
[Hang on, hang on. You say that none of your workers died. But what about the mercs and the civilians caught in the shootout?]
This time Cell spoke up.*
[None of the civilians died either. That's why we have Spartans and ODSTs.]
[Really? Even with videos like this?]
Ziggy Q directed his arms to the giant screen behind him, playing security tapes of a Maelstrom attacking the streets in front of the facility. The ODSTs and a Spartan responded quickly, but stray bullets still hit some of the civilians too slow to run out from the cross fire. The video cut soon after. Gasps from Audiences waved through.
Cell however, chuckled as Genjiro sighed.*
[You still have civilians getting shot from the fight between you and those gangs, and you still say that it's safe?]
[That's a classic slandering tactic. I've seen shit like this before.]
[What do you mean?]
Cell brought up his wrist and tapped on a few holographic screen that popped up from up-armoured wristplate. Soon the screen buzzed back to life, replaying the video footage. However it showed the footage longer than what Ziggy had just shown- showing the Medics and Paramedic ODSTs rushing to the Civilians, throwing down hand-held equipments that soon opened up into a bubble shield that blocked the oncoming shots from the gang members. They soon started working on emergency treatments- some of the hand held devices were spraying green glowing particles as the ODST medics removed the bullets and had the marines quickly shove a biofoam canister into the wounds, injecting and sealing the bleeding. Painfully groans were screamed out from the civilians that were still conscious but soon turned into faint moans. The spartan rushed into the civilians still uninjured by pinned down by the cross fire, using themselves as a human shield as they carried the civilians to safety.*
[I uhh… well…]
Ziggy did not have this as part of the script, and the response made it evident.*
[I was hoping you'd try some shit like this. Those people are fine, even ones you got shot in the face. Skull was fractured and nerve damage was evident. It's a stressful situations, we will admit. But Biofoam is good for keeping damaged organs in place and stops bleeding and haemorrhaging while we take them to emergency facility. The Repair field is also good for regenerating nerve and tissue damage to keep even people who got shot in the face to stay alive for us to operate on. And yes, we do take care of our own fuck ups, even if we didn't start it. But most of you people aren't fortunate, are you?]
Cell stood up, not letting Ziggy recover from the shake of power balance to talk to the audience and camera.*
[Trauma team is there for you, sure. But that's for a price, isn't it? A high price at that. Not to mention that due to the NCPD being privatised and thus most of their work being forced to prioritise those with Megacorps breathing down their neck, many of you- yes, you. You who's watching Night after Night, and to the poeple sitting in this audience seat.]
Genjiro picks up what Cell is trying to do, and quickly motions the cameramen to turn the camera to the audience seat. The cameramen smells views rising, and quickly follows Genjiro's orders despite not being owned by him.*
[You people. Normal people, low to middle wage group people. People with families they would like to grow up safe. People who wants to make sure they don't have to hide a gun in their coat until they see someone with one too many glowing optics and scars while they go to the mall. Those who are driving with fear that one moment they'll be driving through Santo Domingo, then the very next second have to crawl out of their flaming car because you accidentally got into a traffic with Tyger Claw on the front and Animals at the back. Many of you people, have to live with that fact that one wrong shot to the gut or neck, and you'll have to watch as everyone ignores you bleeding to death on the streets. Well, you can kiss those fears goodbye. We're currently working with the Mayor to have not only our workers and facilities have the opportunity to be protected by the ODSTs, the Marines, and the Spartans if push comes to shove. Do you know what that means? Much like how MaxTac is specifically sent for highly destructive criminals and cyberpsychos, we will have ODSTs and Spartans be part of the Police force for Night City. A military police, you could say.]
[But President Cell, wouldn't that be corporate interference in Night City's government work?]
Genjiro asked as his own posture slowly started to relax- leg crossing over and his hands grabbing his knee. Ziggy tried to say something, try to cut them off at that moment, but Cell snapped his fingers as he turned around- camera back to focusing on Genjiro and Cell.*
[You are right! But that's not the case if the government is simply hiring the Reds and Blues for their government work, right? Danger Gal seems to be a private firm for investigations, why can't we? And we'll be testing the waters with our own version of Trauma Team. As part of Project Freelancers, we have Project Caduceus: Marines, ODSTs and Spartans specialising as Medics and fast reaction units. From gang violence to car accidents, to even buildings burning down and exploding, we will respond. You're not paying for our subscriptions? Don't worry, we didn't build any prescriptions! You didn't hire us? Don't worry, no one hired Caduceus! You're afraid we'll force you to pay you every bullets we fired and every time you spent in our emergency vehicles? You don't worry about that, because we're not charging you.]
[Why, President Cell? Why not just charge us? Why risk this without potential profit?]
[Because, Genjiro! There is already profit! A good potential client, is a healthy potential client! We already have several of the hospitals and medical centres that we bought and renovated from Biotechnica, that's still quite empty. So, might as well use this for that kind of situation, right? After all, we don't even have to pay anyone to maintain those facilities! All of it, from the electricity to equipment, are all built and maintained by us and us alone!]
Cell sighs, walking to the edge of the stage and sitting down. Camera chasing Cell and zooming in on his helmet.*
[Look, we can just… plug a few bullet wounds, take you to the hospital and call it a day when you're near our facility, but the Hippocratic- the goddamn hypocritical Hippocratic oath dictates that 'I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of over treatment and therapeutic nihilism, that there is art to medicine, as well as science and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemists's drug. That we're not treating a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being that illness may affect the person's family and economic stability. To prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure. I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings.'
I had my subordinates, part of the medical division of our company, ask us as I bought those hospitals and made it our own. 'President Cell, what about the people who can't bring themselves in these hospitals even if they want to? What if they're bleeding?' Do we… ignore them? Do we… just write them off as potential clients that never made it? It was a young guy too, recently discharged from Trauma Team and was recruited by us, that asked me that. Medical professionals of the UNSC were taught that oath and that oath had stated that they are not treating a fever chart, a cancerous growth, a fucking number on the statistics table! They're human, sick humans! They're people bleeding out, not fucking- platinum subscriptions or silver subscriptions! People! Don't you all realise that? What use is a hospital if those we built those centres for cannot come in! I'm sure Genjiro thought that too when he saw people lie on the floor, just dying slowly because Trauma team couldn't give a rats ass to someone who could pay for their service!]
The camera moves to Genjiro as the executive solemnly looks to the floor and nods softly. The camera switches back to Cell.*
[So, in a way… you're welcome. Because? Because I'm the goddamn ceiling for the minimum human fucking decency. I told you all, that I wasn't here to control. That I was here to clean up your shit, because some of you people, didn't get educated on common sense and basic decency. I meant that. So we're starting our service… now.]
Cell flicked and tapped on more on his wrist plate, turning to the monitor to show the blue map of Night City. Soon, red lines from several hospitals and medical centres were slowly travelling to different parts of the city.*
[Wow, look at them go! See those red lines? Those are the first responders of Project Caduceus. How do we know there's people needing our service? We had our partnered company Petrochem pull some strings. Turns out giving 80% share of the profit of the car petrol goes a long way. Don't worry, most will be fixed up and ready to walk out by tomorrow morning. We'll be talking about the police force with the mayor some more, and implementing Project Caduceus in other parts of the world, starting with New Mombasa once our negotiation with them finishes up. Genjiro, I'm terribly sorry about making you talk with more politicians and what not. Remind me to give you a blank check for your raise. Oh, shit. Speaking of which, cyberpsychosis attack around the Corpo Plaza. That sounds like a Spartan and ODST job. Fingers crossed we can save all of them.]
Crowd started to cheer and clap as Genjiro and Cell stood up and walked out of the stage, Genjiro making sure to stretched out his hands to Ziggy Q, who shook it without a word. People started to chant 'Reds and Blues! Reds and Blues!' or 'Arbees! Arbees! Arbees!' as the Spartan and the executive left. Ziggy Q, now left alone on stage as the screen went back to black, only smiled his signature smile to salvage the situation.*
[Wow, what a CEO, huh? Cutting bullshits and getting to the point! That was Reds and Blue CEO Cell and Executive Genjiro! We'll see you tomorrow night, same time! Good night, Night City!]
David saw as the recording of Night after Night ended. He looked back to his mother, sleeping on the couch and grasping at her Meatwagon coat uniform tight in her arms.
To most civilians, Project Caduceus would be a godsend. A much more effective alternative than even Trauma Team.
But then he had to wonder… what about people who worked for Trauma Team? What about people like his mom, who worked as a paramedic for Meatwagon?
Will there be any jobs for them? To those that used on-ground ambulance?
Times were already tough, the laundry system stopped halfway this morning due to not enough eddies slotted in.
David sighed as he gently covered the falling MeatWagon coat on his mother, only for her to jump up.
"Morning, mijo."
"If you keep sleeping on the couch like that, you'll get early onset arthritis."
Gloria could only smile softly at her son's worry.
"I know. Just dead after my night shift, is all."
"You and the washing machine both. Forget to reup it?"
"Eh, yeah… I'll take care of it later, 'kay? Oh, money, right! You mentioned a wreath update for class. That happened yet? When did you say you need it?"
David looked at the city as he grabbed his school jacket.
"No, no. It's fine. Got Doc to handle it."
"… What do you mean 'handle it'?"
"I'm good. All set."
Gloria sat up straighter, gripping the edges of her work jacket.
"Don't go cutting corners, Dee. Already cashed my paycheck. You'll get it updated right. Hear me?"
David put on his school coat- and that was the only thing up to Arasaka Academy standard. From his shoes to his shirt, his baggy pants. All screamed out below Arasaka's expectation.
"Mon, seriously? Just feed the washer, alright?"
"I forgot this time, I told you. Promise me you'll buy the update."
"Okay, okay."
"And you're really going to school dressed like that?"
David pointed to the laundry.
"Uniform's soaked."
Soon enough, the holographic Television soon changed to N54 news.
[A military-grade implant was found missing from the body of Lieutenant Colonel James Norris, shot dead by a Spartan from patrolling the Reds and Blues tower. Majority of the injured were stabilised and rescued by the paramedic group 'Project Caduceus' that only went only 12 hours ago, but Lieutenant Colonel James Norris was transported by the Meatwagon paramedic response team-]
"Mom, you're on TV! Nova!"
"No, not nova. David. A bloodbath. Go on, off to school."
David sighed, walking to the door.
"Bye."
"Love you, mijo."
David walked out of the door, turning to the right corner as the doors closed.
And just like that, a holophone gave her a call.
[Maine? I was just about to call you.]
Gloria responded as she looked in the inside of her coat- the smuggled sandevistan taped on and concealed.
[I got you a new product. A sandevistan, military grade.]
[Nova, but uh… we'll talk about the product later.]
[Are you calling about something else?]
[Yeah-yeah. Reilly has a guy that wants to talk to you.]
[About what, implants as well?]
[No, about your husband.]
Gloria blinked.
Leopold Martinez?
What… what about him? That man disappeared one night out of thin air, the moment the alien invasion on New Mombasa was streamed on the news.
Still had some part of love for him, yes. She still remembered the way he treated her, and how he treated their son. How hard he worked for the family, how hard he tried to raise David into a good, smart, strong kid.
But the fact that you up and leave kind of diminishes some of the nicer memories, doesn't it?
[What about him?]
[He says he's… on behalf of your husband. Got your husband's final words. It's important for you and your kid to hear.]
Gloria hugged her coat tighter.
She closed her eyes, remembering the last thing she and her husband had talked about.
'I'm sorry, but.. They need me to be there. It's for you and our son… Gloria, I'm sorry. But I still love you. I love David.'
She still remembered the tears in his eyes. And her tears. And how she shouted that he was a coward as he ran out. Moments after kissing their son on the forehead.
He never came back.
Angry? Definitely. Even still.
But all the memories that floods back couldn't force Gloria to hate her Leo. Even if he might have been living in luxury on the other side of the world. Living as a suit in a megacorps, probably in Militech or Arasaka.
Maybe that was some reason why she wanted her David to rise to Arasaka Tower Top floor, to show Leo how his son grew, to at least talk to the kid if not her.
Even if he wasn't in Arasaka, he'd still know by how successful David was.
[Fine… tell them my address.]
[… Nova. I'll do just that. We can talk about the Sandevistan later. I'm buying it, just making that clear.]
[Preem. I'll get it packaged and ready, after I talk with the guy you're sending my way.]
-oOo-
David was physically gifted from a very young age.
Athletic build just came naturally even if he had a lean frame, not too mention the fast hand-eye coordination.
He jumped down to a trash heap with no problem, and ever since he played sports with the kids in the neighbourhood he would always come out on top.
Any kinds of sports. Any sports. All sports.
He was good at running, parkour, throwing baseballs.
Not to mention the fact that he recovered from the neural implant much faster than the rest of the people.
That was probably how he managed to get into Arasaka Academy so easily, despite his family's socioeconomic standing in Night City.
His mother told him that it was his dad's influence. That he was just like his father.
Apparently he was a natural at all sorts of things too, not just physical. Ranging from fixing engines to education, to saving people under fallen rubbles.
A pretty good shot too, Gloria told him how quickly his father made work of the gangs and cyberpsycho without even a weapon.
And funnily enough, he didn't have any implants. Everyone just thought he was a former Animals member.
Until he suddenly walked out of his and mom's life, anyway.
David didn't really have much memories of his father. Most were just the final time they saw each other, kissing David's forehead as he ran out the door and into the night.
No news of Leopold Martinez since.
Other memories were less drastic but just as taxing to remember. The times he was piggy back riding on his dad's back, playing baseball or soccer with him and the rest of the kids. Cooking David dinner when Gloria was still at work.
Watching a movie and falling asleep together on the couch.
Fucking grade A gonk, David thought to himself as he walked up the stairs filled with violence and drunk people into the metro.
Maybe he was just like his dad, as his mother had said. Maybe not.
The train drove across several buildings of worn concrete, which contrasted with the silvery materials of the newly build Arbee facilities.
A few gaps showed that across a river, a rocket was being launched into space.
Back a few months ago, that would have been the biggest sign of progress in Night City.
Now, it was the flying Pelicans that continuously went up and back down to the giant gunship, who's silhouette would frequently appear and then disappear from the top of the atmosphere like a moon in daylight.
The D82-EST vehicles quickly blocked the rocket launching, almost symbolically so. Painted white and red with a mix of forest green, these were what UNSC called 'the Darter built in the Reds and Blues headquarters for Project Caduceus. As such majority of the space within the ship used for carrying large numbers of supply crates at once were modified into the top of the line medical emergency and intensive care unit. Enough to comfortably fit at least 10 patients
To Night City citizens, it looked more like a flying turtle.
David got off the metro, walking through the pedestrian cross and going by the Petrochem tower. Where the crime scene had occurred.
"Did you see the Spartan fight?"
David overheard the NCPD within the yellow holographic tapes talk.
"That cyberpsycho had some top of the line implants that zeroed our guys… and then that 2 metres tall giant just comes in and smashes the choom by himself."
David continued walking, going up the stairs and staring at the holographic model of a fish.
He saw a sparkly white hair in the corner of his eyes- a girl, smoking cigarette.
But she was gone by the time David finished walking up the stairs.
David quickly dashed to the Arasaka Academy, having one final look at the silver tower of Arbees before heading in and throwing his back onto the chair.
-oOo-
"Is this the place?"
"According to the address Reilly sent, yeah."
Killshot and Noble 6 looked at the apartment. Half rundown and filled with people that can't even afford a room, and therefore left themselves to rot in the stairs and hallway.
It was a sad, sorry sight.
"Uh, excuse me, sir… Would you two be Spartans by any chance?"
Both of the Spartans turned around, hand slightly resting on their guns just in case.
What they didn't expect was a UNSC marine walking up with a smile on his face.
"Oh, sorry! Crewman Morris Grant, part of Project Caduceus sir!"
The UNSC marine did the standard salute, which the two saluted back with a nod.
"Spartan B312, Noble 6."
"Spartan Killshot. You're part of Cell's new project, right? Must be tough." Killshot asked with a warm smirk.
Morris shook his head.
"Oh, not at all, sir! Compared to my time with Militech, this feels way better! More meaningful and worthwhile, to be quite honest. Actually feels like I'm making a difference."
"Heard a lot of people saying that in The Graveyard. Cell still treats you properly, right?"
"Of course, sir! He's been the best leader I've ever met, sir!"
Morris grinned, he meant every word of it.
Killshot smirked as he glanced at Noble 6.
"Heard a lot of people say that one too."
"Why wouldn't we? He saw us on the streets and decided to recruit us! Gave us food, shelter, water, new flesh and bones if we needed them. And a purpose! Hope, sir. He gave us all hope. We've actually been trying to recruit people here as well. But unlike most of us vets from the unification war 7 years ago, a lot of people here doesn't seem too interested in joining and enlisting as such. We've been thinking about making enlistment posters, but President Cell doesn't seem to be too keen on propaganda materials."
Killshot chuckled.
"He's a strange Spartan, that's for sure."
"Would you know him personally, sir?"
"Somewhat. I'm in the same Fireteam as his twin brother."
"Aha." Morris exclaimed softly as he nodded. He looked back, seeing how his main mission just a few minutes ago was patrolling the area until the emergency patients were lifted into the Darter. "I should go back to my post, sir! Thank you for your services!"
"Don't thank me yet, I haven't finished it yet."
"Yes, sir! Understood, sir!"
The voice and the force, the energy it carried in Morris was much much clearer and stronger than when he was living on the streets and badlands.
He had been patrolling the facilities and posts assigned to him with eager glee and fierce loyalty.
And once he had the chance to do what he considered much more meaningful- chance given to him by the Arbee CEO, he took it.
He wanted to prove to himself how much his actions can help influence Night City.
And he really felt like he was making a change, too. Carrying and protecting the injured, using the equipment he was taught during training.
Practice really did make it perfect.
Killshot rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses, as if trying to remember something.
"Wait, Morris Grant was it?"
"Yes sir, Crewman Morris Grant, Marine! Sir!"
Noble 6 gave Killshot a glance.
"Ringing bells?"
"Yeah, heard it from Washington… oh yeah." Killshot snapped his fingers. "You're one of the candidates for ODST promotion."
Morris blinked. "… I… I am? Sir?"
Killshot grinned. "Yeah, Washington was showing us the War games training results and pointing out potential candidates for ODST among the marine recruits. Yours was one of them. I guess having experience in war and surviving counts a lot, doesn't it?"
Morris felt his chin slack a little at the shocking news. He was part of the ODST candidates? Really?
He quickly remembered who he was in front of, straightening up. Especially his salute
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Yeah, Cell talked about your enthusiasm as well. Keep it up, you'll hear the official news in no time."
"Thank you, sir! I'll return to my post now, sir!"
He saluted to Noble 6 and Killshot, turning away the moment Noble 6 and Killshot saluted back and looking to the apartment.
He didn't want to show the Spartans the tears stinging his eyes. It really did feel like his loyalty and his hopes were getting repaid in some way.
"Morris, we've got the patients stabilised and ready to go. We're just waiting on you!"
One of the UNSC medic team shouted at Morris from the Darter. She was one of the newer recruits too, formerly part of the Araska's private military before being discharged without as much of a formal goodbye message.
Morris dashed into the ship, ready to take off to the nearest Arbee-owned hospital.
"I'm on the ship!"
The people shot during the fight between Tyger Claw gangs and the NCPD were breathing into air masks, having biofoam filled in their wounds and the repair field active inside the ship for healing.
One looked at Morris, still in the bed.
"Am I… Will I really live?"
Morris lightly grabbed his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.
"Yeah, you'll live. You'll be fine. Just stay awake for a bit longer, you hear?"
The civilian slowly blinked, looking back to the ceiling. He didn't know what that green light emitting from the object stuck to the ceiling, but it was one of the calming things he had ever since.
"Oh thank god… thank you…"
It was nothing but two words from the Civilians, but it meant everything to what Morris was trying to live for.
-oOo-
"Even if I do graduate, they'll never accept me. No kid from Santo will ever be a suit. I don't wanna be one anyway."
David looked out to the window, their cheap car going through the highway after the accidental damage David had caused in the Arasaka network.
"So you tell me. What have I been busting my ass for then, huh?"
David moved his glance to his mother.
"Everything I do, I do for you, Dee. Don't you see that? You're breaking my heart, mijo."
David looked to his mother, and in disbelief stood up straighter in his seat.
"Wait. What?"
Gloria Martinez had tears starting to well in her eyes.
"My Sweet baby boy. So smart, so talented. Just like your father. You're… everything to me."
The eyes couldn't hold the tears any longer, and whatever was welling up fell down and ran down her cheeks.
"I want to give you a fighting chance in this city and a good education. It's why I put in all of those hours. Why I'm never home."
David looked at his mother, at relented.
"I… I'm sorry. Shouldn't have brought it up. Don't cry, Mom."
"Think I don't know how they treat you? Think I don't get treated the same way?"
A car, black and sleek, obviously for one of the suits, were passing by Martinez's left, while a pink car was driving right behind the two.
"But that's why you have to prove them wrong. You have to work hard and rise through the ranks! My son at Arasaka Tower top floor! I can just see it. You've got this, Dee. You're my son. You're his son too. You can do it."
"Yeah, well, easier said than do..."
David's eyes widened when he took a glance to his right- a yellow minigun loaded in by an Animals gang member.
Soon the windows of Martinez family's car smashed as bullets flew from right to left, aiming at the Arasaka suit's car.
David and Gloria was just collateral caught in the crossfire.
"Fuck 'em up!"
Gloria flinched as she tried to handle the steering wheel, while David used his reflexes to lean his chair back.
Sometimes, when his anxiety reached top level and adrenaline kicked in, his reflexes would heighten to the point that bullets looked like they were slowing down.
It seemed like it was enough to even out-speed standard Sandevistans, according to the fights he had with Arasaka academy students who decided to pick on David after whining to their father about better implants.
He saw each and individual bullet whizzing past every time the nozzle flared.
The black limo sped up, apparently the person inside still alive and well.
"Don't let 'em get away!"
"Suit's limo's titanium plated!"
The pink truck followed hot on the limo's tail.
"The hunt's on, my beastbros!"
The animals laughed as one aimed a rocket launcher, missile whizzing and whistling before hitting the limo.
The limo landed on its front, four wheels broken off and rolling the highway.
"Noone fucks with the animals!"
"Ara-suckers!"
"Ha, ha!"
The smoke cleared, pink truck steered to the side and drove off.
It was only the Martinez on the road.
"Mom! Brake! Brake hard! Watch out!"
-oOo-
David woke to flames erupting on the road, him strapped in his seat still, upside down.
The car had turned over, and his mom was on the side of the car.
"Mom! Mom!"
Gloria moved, and there were red lines lighting up into a rectangle.
Her lower half crossed over, the line overlapping on her clothes.
A Zetatech Atlas, painted white, orange and mint, landed.
Two men armoured in black running over to Gloria.
"Is that Trauma Team? Oh, thank Christ…"
One more ran up to David, scanning him with a tablet.
"He's not a client." The Trauma Team replied.
"Neither is she."
Trauma Team ignored them.
"Hey, wait!"
"Secure the policyholder. Leave them to the city meat wagons."
"Copy that."
"What?! What the hell! Hey! Where are you going!" David shouted. But no one listened.
They did as they were told, leaving the unsubscribed to wilt in the accident. They took their client, and was about to head off.
"Mom! Momma!"
"Can't lift off- turbulence just increased like crazy!"
Voice echoed out from the Zetatech Atlas.
Sure enough, there was a slightly bigger vehicle floating down from the air.
One of the Trauma Team sighed.
"It's those new guys from Arbees. Fucking Project Cad-whatevers."
The Darter stayed afloat, to the side of the highway.
David looked at the aircraft open up- 3 soldiers, 2 ODSTs and a Spartan jumped down.
"Secure the injured!" The Spartan shouted- white Locus variant Raskhasa armor with a Project Encoh up armor made it look actually like a skull with an air mask attached to it. As if Death himself had signed up to be a medic. "I'll kill the fire!"'
"One found injured!"
"Searching for more injured!"
The Darter was flying off to the side, finding a suitable place to land.
The Spartan was huge, using the fire hydrant attached to the back of his hips to coat the flame in foam.
One of the ODST held up a small device, emitting blue light like a bar code scanner up and down Gloria.
"Scanning injuries: Broken ribs, ruptured the spine. Broken left leg, too. Bullet wound in right shoulder." The ODST took off one of the giant canisters attached to his chestplate. "Stabilising the injured with biofoam!"
"Setting up the repair field!"
"Asking if situation requires Bubble shield!"
"Negative, we don't need the bubble shield yet!"
They were all working swiftly, in unison. This was all happening in a matter of seconds in David's perception.
The Spartan had finished dousing the fire with foam, and soon walked over to the car, crouching down and looking at David in the eyes.
"Found another injured! His stuck inside the car! Pulling him out now!" The Spartan turned around to shout at the back. He faced David again and talked in a much calmer, smoother voice. "I'm Spartan Bones. I'm with Project Caduceus. I'm going to get you out of there, so stay put. Ok?"
The moment the ODST injected the canister, Gloria flinched, groaning.
"Shh… we're disinfecting the wound. It'll hurt only for a moment. Bare with us."
Spartan Bones walked around and grabbed hold of the door on David's side, ripping it off the car with ease. The Spartan rested one hand on the back of David's neck and used his other hands to rip the seat belt off, quickly grabbing David as he fell.
David watched as the soldiers brought stretchers, and some device started to emit a mist of green light.
Spartan Bone softly placed David on one of the stretches, as the ODST made sure to place Gloria on the other without further damaging her.
The scrapes on Gloria's face were already healing under the green light.
"We couldn't find any more injured. It seems like these two are the only ones."
"We'll search for more while the two stabilises."
"Spartan Bones, can you move that car far away from us? I don't like how there's flames around it. It could blow."
"Understood. Hoping wherever I move this doesn't end up as collateral…"
David watched Spartan Bones grab the car with one hand, and flip it onto his shoulder with ease, carrying it like it weighed nothing.
They all wore white with red highlights. Even the vehicle.
"Confirming there's no one else."
"Patients' been stabilised. Moving them into the Darter to move to nearest Med Centre."
"Copy that."
David felt as the stretcher was lifted and moved into the aircraft.
"Patient needs IV fluid, her body's exhausted badly. Needs more nutrient."
"Grabbing and injecting IV fluid. Hand me the bandages."
They worked like they have been doing this for a long while. Poking Gloria's wrist with a needle after tapping any potential air bubbles out, and bandaging the wrist to secure the IV fluid.
"Hey, kid. Stay with us. Can you see the light?"
One of the soldiers brought up a pen torch and pointed to it.
"Look at the light, follow it. Can you follow it?"
David did as he was told, but he could only stay conscious long enough to finish instructions he didn't remember anymore. Closing his eyes and letting voices fog out.
He was exhausted. From the physical, mental, and emotional stress he had to endure today.