“Alright Miguel, tell me, what happened? Why were you yelling at the Maelstrom gangsters?”

Miguel blinks at the odd language of Mark, but dismisses it as “corpo business,” and returns to the matter at hand.

“It’s my niece! The Maelstrom took my niece and are going to force her to join their gang! We must go after them!” Miguel sounds desperate, but Mark can sympathize since he knows how monstruous the Maelstrom are.

“Alright, I’m going to recover the gun turrets and other equipment while you tell me everything about the gang that might help.”

“There’s no time!” Miguel desperation starts to rise, “they took her from me! They hate people like her because she barely has any chrome on her!” Miguels tries to run away, but Mark manages to catch the veteran before he can go off on his own.

“Damn it Miguel, wait up! You can’t just rush ahead on your own!”

“You don’t get it!” The veteran snarls back at Mark, raising his other arm to the Engineer, but not opening the hidden weapon port yet. “She’s the only family I have in this cursed city!”

Mark slaps the raised arm up and Miguel shots on reflex, surprised that the Engineer would move like that with a gun pointed to his face. That momentary surprise was enough to allow Mark to throw Miguel over his shoulder and point his shotgun to Miguel’s face.

“Damn it, man! Listen to me! If they’re going to force her to join the gang we still have time! We will get her today, no, in an hour. Just give me an hour to pick up my equipment and your niece will be safe, alright? Do you think I can’t take the Maelstrom on my own?”

Miguel looks at the barrel of the shotgun pointed at his face, then at the armored faceplate of Mark. He takes a deep breath, calming himself as much as he can. “One hour?”

“One fucking hour, and the Maelstrom will be history.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Sorry for pointing a gun at your face, earlier. Can you let me up?”

With a single pull Miguel is back on his feet and Mark resumes reclaiming his gun turrets. “What can you tell me about the gang?”

“They’re all chrome junkies,” Miguel starts while futilely trying to close his jacket, “augmented to hell and back so even a new gonk is a threat to most cyberpunks you find out there. In terms of firepower, they’re as dangerous as a soldier from NUSA or a mid-level Edgerunner, but what makes them lethal is their complete disregard for themselves while fighting.”

“Alright, that helps. What about their numbers? Where are they located?”

“I know where their hideout is. It’s on the former All Foods Plant, they completely took over the compound, maybe even expanded it. As for their numbers, last time I checked there’s over a thousand strong.”

Mark pauses for a moment, looking back Miguel. “If there’s over a thousand strong, then we definitely need to get my equipment back at base.” Mark finishes reclaiming everything, making sure to pick up everything, before motioning for Miguel to follow him. “How well do you know the streets of Night City? If you know a shortcut back to Pacifica we can go and return in minutes.”

“Yeah, I lived here for years now. I know all the districts like the back of my hand!”

“Great, get into the driver’s seat then.”

Mark jumps over the window and get into the passenger seat while Miguel opens the car door.

“The fuck is this? A manual transmission? Did you mug a Nomad Clan before coming to Night City?”

“Can you drive or not?” Mark answers back with a hint of irritation.

“Yeah, learned back in the army.” Miguel hits the gas, only for the car to wobble forward, “damn it!”

*Vroom* *Creek* *Vroom* *Creek* *Vroom* *Creek*

“Do you know how to drive or not?”

“Shut up, it’s been a while alright!”

*Vroom* *Creek* *Vroom* *Creek* *Vroom* *Vroom*

“Alright, I got it!”

*Vroom!!!*

Both Miguel and Mark slam their back on their respective seats as the car hits nearly maximum acceleration in seconds.

“Don’t you dare hit anything!” Mark screams amidst the roaring of the engine, “I don’t want the pigs’ asking questions about where the car came from!”

“Don’t worry, I got this!”

…

Despite Mark initial worry, the pair managed to get to the Starter Base without issues. Much to Mark’ shock when he first arrived in Night City, unless you cause a traffic accident, the traffic laws are treated more as a suggestion than anything. The reason is because the NCPD doesn’t bother to prosecute someone going over the speed limit.

“This way.” Mark motions for Miguel to follow him, and the veteran has the unique opportunity to see the inner workings of the Starter Base.

Rows of Electric Miners are digging up the piles of trash on the ground accumulated over the many years. The scrap travels through a series of conveyor belts towards a series of machines where robotic arms pick up each individual scrap pile with expert dexterity and place them inside a strange machine. The machine grinds, churns, and spits a series of materials that is then belted towards a sorting area as multiple robotic arms and belt splitters help separate the items. From there, some of the items go to a steel furnace to be melted and turned into plates, other continue the conveyor belt further along the line, while others end into a chest where the items are stored for later.

A massive factory hidden within the Pacifica district under the nose of the big corpos, supposedly owned by Mark’s original employer.

“Come here,” Mark beckons Miguel towards a series of chests. “Put this on first.”

Mark gives to Miguel a copy of the base uniform, including a new set of underwear, for the veteran to wear. “Don’t worry, this is a one size fits all uniform. It will adjust to you automatically.”

Miguel doesn’t waste time, taking off his old clothes and putting on the uniform. Mark discreetly picks up the discarded clothes and place it en route to the burners. “Great, now put this on.” This time, Mark hands Miguel a copy of Modular Armor to Miguel. “We will wait here for fifteen minutes while the batteries charge up.”

Once again, Miguel puts the new armor over the uniform, the pieces of the Modular Armor fitting easily on the veteran. As soon as Miguel finishes donning the armor, Mark receives a notification from the system, as new technologies are unlocked. Mark immediately starts researching them, while picking up a few supplies to build the latest items.

“If we’re dealing with over a thousand gangsters, then four lines of stacks will be enough? No, better make it six stack lines. A stack line of grenades, another stack line of gun turrets, a stack line of this, another stack line of war crimes in a can, two stacks of medical kits, two stacks of repair kits, four stacks of walls, one stack of stone furnaces, one stack of automatic gates, and this is it.”

Miguel blinks as Mark mutters under his breath while he walks around a row of steel chests, but his curiosity is interrupted by a new HUD appearing on his display.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Wube Inc. Factorio System Guest User.”

“What is this? What do I do, Mark?” The Engineer pauses his musing before he turns to Miguel.

“Well, while you’re wearing the Modular Armor you have access to a limited Inventory. I will give you some items for you to use. Mostly ammo and other consumables. You interface with it using your usual cybernetics, it should come to you naturally.”

Indeed, Miguel quickly got the hang of using the Inventory. With guest level access, what Miguel could do was severely limited, however he could easily equip and reload his weapons. Miguel’s Projectile Launch System can now fire shotgun shells, and his cyberware now has extra power thanks to equipped batteries on the Modular Armor, allowing the veteran to use them more often and for longer, at least until the batteries last.

“Damn choom, are you trying to arm an army?”

“No, I just plan on fighting against one.”

The casual way that Mark said those words send shivers down Miguel spine. In that moment, Miguel swore under everything he held dear that he would never, ever, become Mark’s enemy.

…

The drive towards All Foods Plant was much calmer than before, as Miguel felt calmer than ever. While he’s still worried about his niece, both he and Mark were carrying enough firepower to storm Arasaka headquarters, if the veteran estimates were correct.

“Stop here.” Mark says and they park a few blocks away from the defunct factory. “Let’s review the plan: first, we will storm the entrance of the factory, attracting the attention of the gangsters; second, I will create several fortified positions to fall back as we advance, until we find enough clues to where your niece might be; third, I will create a distraction by engaging with the majority of the gang while you rescue your niece; finally, you take your niece back to Viktor’s Clinic in case she needs medical attention, otherwise you wait in the car while I finish the Maelstrom. Any questions?”

“You’re not going to run?”

“Only if I must. Don’t worry, I have an extra car in my pocket.”

“Of course,” Miguel nods along, “makes perfect sense.”

“Great, let’s get this party started. Oh wait, put these on first.” Mark hands to Miguel a pair of armor plates. “Extra protection never hurt anyone.”

After the last-minute checkups were finished, the pair exit the vehicle and walk towards the gangster’s hideout. Miguel walks carefully with his submachine gun on hand, his pace and gait returning to his days of being a soldier, while Mark walks visible unarmed, but is no less dangerous for it.

When the pair were within sight of the Maelstrom gang, Mark didn’t waste any time and threw a grenade ahead, instantly blowing up the gangsters near the entrance and on the windows of the second floor. He starts setting up the first fallback position, with the gun turrets and a couple of stone furnaces for cover.

The pair then rush towards the factory, Mark pacing gun turrets along the way while Miguel provides overwatch, the gangsters meeting and falling on the turret’s onslaught. The pair sets up a second fortified position, closing off corridors with stone walls and gun turrets creating lethal choke points. Occasionally Mark would throw Slow Capsules, the neuro toxins while not lethal caused lethargy and muscle cramps on the gangsters without a toxic filter.

As the gangsters would fall to the assault, Mark would use his DIP to access the data recovered from the gangsters, finding a shard with the local area map. “I’m sending you the coordinates where your niece might be.” The Engineer calmly tells Miguel over the shared communication line, “go pick her up while I distract them. Wait for my signal.”

“Alright!” Miguel leaves without hesitation while Mark cracks his neck.

The Engineer cracks several canisters, and from them a series of drones fly around him. Taking a deep breath, Mark rushes ahead, engaging with the Maelstrom flood that comes after him.

…

Using his native Cyberware and the protection from the Modular Armor, Miguel quickly reaches the area where his Niece is being held captive. There were other prisoners around that Miguel set free to aid in his escape, and throwing some guns and ammo that he stole from the gonks. Miguel had barely made it to the Green Berets, but he still remembers a lesson or two. The former captives will provide a secondary distraction while Miguel sneak through the inner area of the hideout.

While Mark is singlehandedly holding most of the gang, there are still more than enough gonks to protect the “conversion area,” or whatever the Maelstrom call the horror carnival they set up.

When Miguel spots his niece, he almost sinks into an episode of cyberpsychosis. Her once beautiful long blond hair is shaved, but fortunately her skull is still untouched. However, his niece right arm was converted into, in his professional opinion, “a piss poor excuse for chrome” as the monstrosity is a kit bash amalgam of components welded together. Her right breast is cut off, as a patchwork of subdermal armor is “sewn” together under her skin, and a pair of synth breasts hang over a clothesline. ‘Are they trying to give my niece three boobs?’ Miguel wonders, part in anger, part in horror, part in sheer incredulity.

Thankfully, whatever horrendous procedures they were subjecting his niece and a few other prisoners, they stopped once the avenging pair infiltrated the compound.

Taking a deep breath, Miguel calmed himself. After all, he has more than enough firepower that he doesn’t need to charge ahead blindly. Carefully setting the FFI codes to exclude his niece and the other prisoners strapped on the operation table, Miguel cracks the canister containing the Defender Capsules, the timer running on his HUD.

He kicks down the doors and starts spraying bullets.

“Ooooohhhhhhh!”

*Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata* *Tra -tatatatatatata*

*Tra -tatatatatatata*

Fifteen drones continuously shot at anything not on their whitelist, while Miguel himself continuously spray bullets from his submachine gun with its ridiculous magazine. A single magazine contains twenty bullets, with each stack containing two hundred magazines, for a total of four thousand bullets per stack of armor piercing rounds, firing from a submachine gun that never overheats or jams through, quote, “hypertech magic,” end quote. Miguel alone has more than enough bullets to deal with the Maelstrom gang in its entirety.

Mark is carrying six thousand magazines, and five-hundred gun-turrets, alongside several canisters Defender Capsules, and “other things.”

Eventually, Miguel is out of targets, just in time as his drones break down and self-destruct into uselessness.

“Ciara, it’s me, your uncle.”

The young woman blink through her tears, slowly opening one of her eyes. “Uncle Miguel?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here to rescue you, alright? My friend is distracting the rest of the gang while I take you somewhere safe.”

Miguel takes a medical kit and places the tube on Ciara’s good arm. “This is going to make you feel better, alright. Please trust your uncle, okay?”

“… alright.” She weakly answers and Miguel quickly goes to work.

‘A single medical kit should be enough to help her recover, I don’t want her to get acclimated with this junk on her.’ Thankfully, the procedure finished without issues. Soon Miguel rescued the other prisoners, most of them monks or fellow homeless men and woman taken from the streets. After doing what he can to heal the prisoners, Miguel calls Mark.

“Niece secured, extra rescues. What do?”

“Give them my number. Resume plan.”

Miguel doesn’t hesitate, giving Mark number while escorting them to safety. The group promised to enter in contact with Mark later, before leaving the facility through a back door. Meanwhile, Miguel escorted his Niece back to the car, and without looking back drove towards Viktor’s Clinic, as Mark had already contacted Viktor to wait for them.

…

“Driving to Vik. No more civies.”

Mark nods to himself, glad that’ taken care off. There are still plenty of gangsters closing on his location, their behavior like the Biters on Factorio. While others would be disgusted by what Mark will do next, to the Engineer there’s nothing to hesitate as he already declared the Maelstrom as Hostis Humani Generis, “Enemies of Mankind,” and deserved no mercy.

The Engineer cracks open a canister and throws a Poison Capsule at the rushing gangsters. That type of poison will soon break down in contact with oxygen, UV light, or hot temperatures, however, for the time it is volatile, it can melt a forest into slurry. His armor and genetic modification provide him with enough protection he can resist the effects of the poison, while his medical kit allows him to recover from the damage as if nothing happened.

Using his enhanced stamina, the Engineer creates an impenetrable line of turrets, closing off escape routes with walls and stone furnaces, allowing his Defender Capsules to protect him from retaliation, while the Poison Capsules finish off the remaining Maelstrom, the ventilation system helping spread the toxic air through the facility. The relative isolation of the factory is also a factor that factored in the decision of the Engineer to use that weapon. With his minimap, the Engineer can easily track the spread of the deadly toxin and determine when the poison is cleared.

Eventually, the bullets stop firing. The drones crash on the ground without firing a single round, and the screams have finally stopped.

All Mark must do now, is to clean up.

…

After a while, Mark enters Viktor’ Clinic as he already finished working on Miguel’s niece. It will take multiple sessions, but according to Vik she can eventually return to normal life.

“How much do I owe you, Vik?”

“Look Mark, we don’t need to discuss about money right now. Both you and your friend went through a lot today, so we can discuss it tomorrow, alright?”

“If you say so.” Mark yawns tiredly and then his stomach rumbles in hunger. “Ugh, I need to order takeout. I don’t have the patience to cook today.”

“Here,” Miguel approaches Mark with an XXL burrito and a cup with dipping sauce, “try it with the sauce and tell me if it doesn’t taste better.”

Mark takes the offered half burrito, in a mirror to his first encounter with Miguel, and dips it into the Salsa Verde. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

As the victorious pair sit down and enjoy their meal, a message pings on Mark’s Agent.

“‘You and your associate are invited to the Afterlife VIP room. Tell the bouncer that Rogue invited you.’ How the fuck rumors spread this fast?”

“It has been a few hours.” Miguel helpfully points out, and Mark grimaces.

“Shit, I’m going to take a bath first.” Mark turns to Miguel, “you too, you smelly ass.”

Miguel makes a show to sniff his armpit, immediately regretting it.

“Sounds fair.”