Recording #1 29th of December 2154

Well, I’ve definitely outdone myself this time. They called me stupid and out of my mind, however I’m here gathering information for the revolution completely undetected. I’ve been here for approximately three hours now, hiding in the attic of his two-story home located in the Mid-Sec Suburbs. (I guess the government’s resources aren’t going solely to the war effort after all.) I am armed with only my supplies, my crowbar, my Helmet and the clothes on my back.

The Sons of Moscow have been trying to drive out the Police from Sunflower City for years now and I’ve finally found exactly what we needed.  It was not the The Reavers, nor the Saving Light who’ve found it. But me, a Low-Sec born Russian boy whose mother and father were both chipped and incapable of communicating with me outside of scripted voice lines given to them by Eden. You can imagine my proclivity to desire this entire family slaughtered, though my business here is not sadistic, but simply for the spirit of the revolution. Within my first hour I can see his wife, Betty Watson going about her business, she works from home as a political writer for that Daily Citizen propaganda machine for the “war effort”. 

Her daughter came home from high school and went straight to her room after a half-hearted “I’m home”, Melissa Watson seemed a little upset. (most likely unrelated) I had peaked over Betty Watson’s shoulder to see what she had been writing about, but it was some uninteresting piece about how to spot a “Anti-Social” and how to notify the proper authorities with subtlety. After a quick read I had found Betty Watson’s piece to be well-constructed and written, though lacking in accuracy and substance. It was then I noticed some physical imperfections in Betty Watson’s body; nasty scars from lacerations on her forearms and even a circular burn mark in her palm. Something was most definitely wrong with her, but I suppose that all would be reveal at a slightly later time. Betty Watson satisfied with her hard work decided to get up and begin preparing dinner before Chief Geoff Watson was to come home. 

Probability of valuable intelligence acquisition: Low.

I had walked slowly from the kitchen where she wrote upstairs to Melissa Watson’s room. There was a door that needed to be opened, I pressed the button and the door slid over to the right to let me in. She was texting some friend on her laptop about how the History Test completely decimated her grade, then proceeded to say how horrible her life is, how her mother is completely disrespectful and invasive of her privacy. She turned towards the door and tilted her head in confusion. She got up and pressed the button on her side of the wall, shutting the door again before walking back to her room. I was lucky enough to step forward and avoid contact. I got into her room and observed my surroundings; so much pink. There seemed to be no unique trait about Melissa Watson; she was into whatever was popular. Though from I can gather from her, the Lilac City Low-Sec’s suffering doesn’t even come into her mind. The life of a Mid-Sec, I scoff at the thought. At least she was afforded the ability to go and achieve an education, however corrupted and misguided the school system is. I took a closer look at her desk to find her schedule for school; year 3 of 4. To think I’m only 2 years older than this brat. I turned and left the room with another press of the button. I heard her call out to her mother a seconds later. “Mom, my door is fucked up!”

I heard her mother correctly reply with “When you can speak respectfully, I’ll call the repairman!”

Probability of valuable intelligence acquisition: None.

It was uneventful until Geoff Watson came home, he had stepped outside of his vehicle in the driveway and walked into the house. His wife had just placed the roast in the oven and greeted him with a smile and a kiss. Though something in her eyes had changed and I noticed that the hairs on her neck stood up. Her hands shook, albeit very slightly, but noticeably. 

Betty Watson was afraid of Geoff Watson.

An anger had immediately began to burn inside of me, I raised my crowbar from right behind Geoff Watson, the trajectory and force of my theoretical blow could easily breach his cranium, exposing a bit of the occipital lobe. I walked towards him with my crowbar in hand, before my muscles engaged to let out an explosive reaction that would end the man’s life, I held back. I knew that delaying his death would mean that an outcome far more valuable would result. I let out a breath that would have been heard had I not had the Horus helmet on. I looked up at the second story of the house and activated the heartbeat monitor, finding Melissa Watson making her way down the steps to greet her father. I walked over to the corner of the kitchen to observe the interaction.

While she was an angry and snippy young woman towards Betty Watson, Melissa Watson was extremely kind to her “Daddy”, jumping on him and giving the large man that was known for being the main obstacle to our revolution a hug.

It was strange seeing him in this way. I’ve seen Geoff Watson give the command to shoot pleading innocent Low-Sec citizens just for fun. We were simply fodder to them. Not this beautiful ‘equal citizenship’ that the government had painted for us in Betty Watson’s propaganda. They all sat at the table and ate dinner in relative silence, though tension was in the air; you could see Betty Watson’s face make looks at Geoff Watson’s plate as he stared at it and buried a fork in the roast. A blade sliced into the roast like butter, (I must admit, Betty Watson’s cooking is much better than her writing) and he slipped a piece of the roast into his mouth. What happened next wasn’t shocking but required me to utilize the utmost in physical restraint.

He swung at her. (Now I think I know where those scars came from)

“Fucking disgusting, can you do jack shit correctly?!”  Geoff Watson shouted in frustration.

“I guess it might have been a little overcooked..” Betty Watson said, clutching her soon to be bruised cheek while avoiding eye contact.

Melissa Watson looked over at her mother, trembling in fear, with contempt.

“I swear, Betty all you can do is lay on your back and spread your legs.” He snapped.

Hearing enough, I left the kitchen and walked into the office used by Geoff Watson, 

I scanned through the shelves and desk, careful not to move or touch anything, there was a laptop beneath the desk in a separate compartment. I noticed a safe with a code on the other end of the room, making a note of that I turned to see Geoff Watson storming my direction, I moved swiftly to another portion of the room, behind a couch that sat catty corner, so my feet would not make an imprint on the rug on his floor. If he suspected a thing this early in my operation, nothing would be gained. 

“God I hate this shit so much.” He muttered to himself. “bitch can’t even make a fucking roast right..” he pressed the button and shut the door down, the doors were relatively silent but audible nonetheless. Though it was good that my equipment enabled me to reduce the sound of whatever I touch and interacted with.

He sighed deeply, before placing the laptop on the desk. He opened and turned it on. Now, I thought I’d receive absolutely impeccable information that would lead to him compromising the locations of the worst Police Officers, his lieutenants and sergeants, instead I see things I didn’t want to see a heavyset man in his late-40s do to himself on a Saturday evening after hitting his wife. He was faced towards the door so I could not leave until he was finished. As expected it did not take much time at all, which now leads me to being in the attic of the house, concluding my first day.

Probability of valuable intelligence acquisition: Undetermined.

—

Unity08: How goes it, mal’chik?

Bauk: It goes somewhat decent, I’ll forward you the recording here dpsinfo1.mp3

Unity08: God, you serious about Geoff?

Bauk: Yeah, shit was disgusting, man.

Unity08: Well, hopefully you find something. You’ve got two more days.

Bauk: Won’t let the revolution down.

Unity08: We have a few operations occurring around town, but yours sounds the most promising.

Bauk: Why has no one tried to accomplish this before?

Unity08: No one’s had your equipment around here before.

Bauk: Touché.

Unity08: Also, one last question, man

Bauk: ?

Unity08: Why the hell do you keep referring to their first and last names?

Bauk: I figured it detaches me from them and enables me to view them less as humans and more as subjects.

Unity08: It’s just redundant, bro. Just... first name basis?

Bauk: No promises, but I’ll try.

Unity08: Send me the next recording when you can.

Bauk: Will do.

Recording #2 December 30th of 2115 

Nothing of much interest happened today until the end of it; it was some Cuban man who came in and sat down to eat with the Watson family. They greeted him as if he were an old friend, even Melissa Watson gave him a big hug.

“Uncle Freddy!” She giggled as she wrapped him in an embrace.  Geoff Watson gave him a nod and a handshake with Betty Watson coming in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“Ah, Chairman Gonzalez,” Geoff Watson began, his hand stretched out toward the man. “How are you, sir?”

Chairman “Freddy Gonzalez” handed Geoff Watson his coat, to which Geoff placed it on the rack as they gathered around the table.

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I was standing behind the counter as they ate, staring and recording the conversation as best I could.

“How’s school, Melissa? Doing alright?”

“Mhm” Melissa nodded.

I have to say that I’m quite jealous of these mid-sec folks; hot food and clean water were both things I was never familiar with. It quite honestly made me angry.

As they ate, they discussed shallow topics; the weather, politics and policies about the new street audit system being set up, new weapons rolling out for the local government’s agents. All work related garbage to Betty Watson and Melissa Watson, but lots of useful bits of information that I’d imagine would be helpful to the Sons of Moscow. The fall of the Soviet Union brought many Russians with dual-citizenships back to the United States by default. At the moment, what was once known as Russia is now a wasteland filled with mutants, home brew prosthetics and people outside of the scope of Eden’s Street Audits. But they seem free.

After dinner, Betty Watson cleaned up, Melissa Watson went back upstairs while Freddy Gonzalez and Geoff Watson went into the office to speak further. I carefully moved around the two of them before moving outside of the office where the two of them spoke about the election coming up after the turn of the new year. 

After this, oddly enough, they didn’t speak about much in particular. There was nothing interesting at all. Just simple small talk that could b- hold on.. my helmet’s getting some weird interference... one second..

Okay. That was kind of strange, but the Bauk helmet’s fine. The images on my front camera were a little strange for a moment; distorted and black for a quick moment.

Chairman Gonzalez and Officer Watson sat across from one another as they spoke about golf and the next vacation to Japan they’ll be having soon. It was nothing special.

As the two of them got bored with one another, and it was clear that Geoff was getting tired, Chairman Gonzalez stood up, said his goodbyes and left the house. As he approached his coat and looked back, he gave one last smile towards Betty before he put it on and left.

I took a quick look around the house; the Bauk’s heartbeat monitor indicated there were still 3 people in the house (besides me) and that one was asleep. I stayed awake until they all went to sleep.

A sleepy Sunday, I suppose.

END RECORDING

Lesnitsky walked through the house and went back into the attic after he was certain everyone was asleep. The unit on his hip prevented him from making any noise as he climbed up the ladder. 

Unity08: So I looked over that first recording, mal’chik.

Bauk: now I know there wasn’t too much during this first recording.

Unity08: If you’re going to be accepted, we need some big shit, my boy. Not just the old fat guy masturbating. I can’t believe you actually got footage of that. Oksana and Dmitri are dying laughing right now.

Bauk: Haha.

Unity08: This is still your job, boy. Hopefully this recording won’t be bad. Hell, just sit there for a second I’ll get back to you.

Bauk: Hmm.

— SOMETIME LATER —

Unity08: Come on, mal’chik you’ve got to do something right here. It’s my name we used, don’t you remember? My own reputation is on the line here. So something’s gotta happen.

Bauk: Understood, something will be done tomorrow, I swear it.

Unity08: Well, we think something may actually go down tomorrow; we heard something about those weird Saving Light people coming and making a deal with The Reavers. 

Bauk: That a fact?

Unity08: Yes, so tomorrow will have to be your final day.

Bauk: Why?

Unity08: the EMP will knock everything out of commission, it may knock your Bauk helmet out of commission too.

Bauk: Shit, I’ll find something out, I promise.

Unity08: You can’t promise a damn thing, you just have to do it.

Bauk: Yessir.

Grigori sat up from his makeshift futon as he took his helmet off  for a brief moment to catch his breath and look at the world with his eyes and not through some camera. He wiped the sweat from his face and cleaned out the helmet with some wipes he kept in the bag with him. He breathed in and out for about half of a minute. Grigori felt his stomach growl as he heard it for the first time in awhile. He went into his backpack and grabbed a day old ham sandwich and a bottle of water. He was slow to eat, making sure he wasn’t going to choke or heave.

After the sandwich, he went to sleep after he placed the Bauk helmet back on his head.

Grigori drifted off to sleep and dreamt about the standard; struggling to keep the memory of his parents alive. This time they were all on an island, farming for coconuts. Him, his parents and his childhood friends were all enjoying themselves. Strangely enough he’d never seen his parents without prosthetics, but he saw them before their bodies had been butchered without their consent, before they became livestock to power the society that was created by the corporation. Lesnitsky was gone before any blade that sought to change his body touched his skin.

The dream was a series of fuzzy images that gave Grigori comfort with the horrendous situation he found himself in. But if he couldn’t be a child, at least the next generation would be able to have childhoods free from it all.

He was awakened by a rumble on his helmet that woke his body up. He took a look at his vitals; good. Lesnitsky looked at the amount of people in the house; 2. He checked the time: 6:15am; when Melissa Watson woke up for school. She left at precisely 7am to catch the bus that’d take her to school. It was 9am when Geoff Watson woke up to enjoy his morning off. Lesnitsky decided not to record and to simply find out what he could in Geoff Watson’s office.

Betty Watson had gone out grocery shopping for dinner that night, it had turned out.

—

Lesnitsky went into Geoff Watson’s office to look for some answers when it happened. It happened as soon as Lesnitsky stepped foot into the room. The lights went off in the home as Grigori frantically looked around to ascertain the origin of the pulse. Everyone in the city felt it; for a few minutes everyone was in complete darkness.

The lights and HUD on his helmet suddenly turned off, forcing him to remove the helmet hand hook it to his hip. It would take a minute or two before the reboot kicked in.

“What in the hell is happening here?” Lesnitsky heard Geoff Watson question as he made his way down into the basement of the house. Lesnitsky moved behind the doorway from the office to the living adjacent to the kitchen. As he placed his hand on the doorframe, the lights turned on and Lesnitsky’s hand was bare on the wall. He gasped inside of his helmet and looked at his flesh once more; it was strange seeing his flesh once again. He shook it off as he began to hear Geoff Watson coming up the stairs. Lesnitsky rushed behind the stairs to gain cover from the basement’s door that was across the way right next to the kitchen.

Lesnitsky heard his own footsteps as Chief Watson froze and perked up. He went for his holster and whipped his pistol out towards the stairs.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my damn house?” He shouted. The pistol was lined up quickly and perfectly as he took cover himself.

“If you’re armed then you need to put your shit down or else you are going to die.” Chief Watson was calm and cool, but firm. Grigori tried to move, but a chunk of the railing on the stairs exploded, splintering wood all over the floor. Grigori hopped over the broken railing and ran up the stairs as fast as his feet would take him; another loud shot range out as the wall that divided the kitchen and stairs now had a potato-sized hole in it. Grigori made it up the stairs and took a sharp right turn down the hall.

Another two shots rang out and connected with the adjoining walls. The Bauk helmet protected Grigori’s ears by reducing the sound to bearable levels inside of a house. Grigori would hear as Chief Watson’s footsteps would storm up the stairs. He hid in the closet of the man’s room creating in a pitch black room. He had to slow his breathing; in through his nose and out through his mouth lightly as Chief Watson opened the door to his own room.

Grigori envied Chief Watson for his possession of the firearm; he wished he would be able to fight back. Lesnitsky should have gone for the gun, but he knew that he could only access it from inside of the man’s vehicle that was located only at the building itself, this must’ve been from his nightstand. Grigori cursed himself for being so stupid; surely the man who had a gun during his job would have a gun in his own damn house.

He approached the closet and stared directly at Grigori’s eyes, the closet door opened as Grigori was grabbed by the large man and thrown across the room, into the dresser. He struggled to regain his faculties to see the man pointing the gun directly at his head. Grigori had never had a gun’s barrel placed to his forehead before, he froze for a moment and allowed him to talk.

“You know.. I’ve always wanted someone to enter my house so I can kill them justifiably.”

“You take the lives of Lo-sec anyway, so how does that change anything?”

“Lo-sec aren’t humans, Bu- don’t tell me you’re a Lo-sec, why don’t you have a cerebral suppressant installed?”

“I left before I could be indoctrinated.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Chief Watson removed the pistol from his forehead for a moment to study the boy. Grigori would no longer be able to wait, he quickly brought his feet beneath him and lunged forward towards the gun, wrestling it from his grasp. Grigori slammed Geoff against the wall of the room and twisted his wrist violently. Upon hearing a sickly snap, Geoff kicked him back as he let out a howl of pain. 

Lesnitsky staggered back but kept his footing and pointed the weapon at his assailant, who was simply too busy tending to his broken wrist to much of anything else. Grigori squeezed the trigger before hearing an audible low pitched beep with an audio that played

“UNAUTHORIZED USER DETECTED”

As the weapon administered an intense shock that shot throughout Grigori’s body, he dropped the gun as he fell to his knees. Geoff laughed as his body sweat profusely, he struggled, but bent down to pick up the gun and point it at the boy one more time. 

“BAUK SYSTEM REBOOTED, INITIATING...”

He squeezed the trigger, the bullet tore a hole through Lesnitsky’s torso, going in one way and out the other. Lesnitsky fell back as he noticed his hands disappear again. Out of pure adrenaline, Lesnitsky retreated through the end of the hallway and down the stairs. Geoff walked painfully down the hallway.

“You little fucking shit.” He mumbled to himself as he carried the firearm with his synthetic left arm.

Grigori hid in the office and closed the door behind him while Geoff tracked the boy through the thin and barely noticeable blood trail he left. Grigori had no choice but to fight; he drew the crowbar from his backpack.

Geoff made his way down the stairs and found the trail of blood that led to his office, he loaded clumsily dropped the released the magazine from his pistol and loaded another into it. He was silent as he pressed the button to his office and watched as the blood trailed led to a large pile in the middle of the room on his carpet. He aimed and fire a few shots towards that area where the blood pile was thickest, hearing no thud or blood shoot from wounds and torn flesh he knew he had made a poor decision. Suddenly, a piece of steel was slammed against his skull as he suddenly lost a majority of his faculties. He was dizzy and experienced no pain as Grigori cocked back and swung again, Geoff could only groan momentarily and gurgle as the blood began to pool in his mouth. A third swing, a fourth and his skull was fully breached and opened up onto the floor. 

Geoff Watson ceased to exist.

Probability of valuable intelligence acquisition: Negative.

Recording #3 December 31st, 2115. 4:33PM

I’m sure they came in and found Geoff on the floor of his office and will eventually make their way to the attic, I’m sure I’ve bled everywhere too. I’m feeling kind of faint, so I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hold out and record.

Well, today was a lot to be honest. To whoever is listening to this message and are wearing this helmet, I’ll say you’re wearing the helmet of a dead man. I just hope that whoever’s wearing this now lives for the Revolution as I do. I sit in the attic as the local police, or whatever’s left of them flip the entire house upside down.

I checked the Bauk helmet again for any news stories and even messaged Unity08 about my predicament, I’ve received no reply whatsoever, so I’m getting the feeling that I’m on my own here. The news statements have a breaking story about some EMP or explosion occurring at the... Department of Public safety?! 

What in the hell is going on here?

They came in approximately 4 minutes ago after they discovered the body of the Chief of the Department of Public Safety Geoff Watson. There are 3 or 4 of them in the house now and Betty Watson was pulled from the house and sent over to Melissa Watson’s school. It’s only a matter of time before they find traces of my occupation in the house, and I am not armed to face any one of those men at all.

I can hear them opening each door and how they will eventually come to mine. The crowbar is downstairs and it’s just me and my bare hands and a hole punched cleanly through my body, I think it might be a flesh wound, but it’s shredded enough that I can’t move very well. That stealth cloak has a huge hole in it for obvious reasons and the soundwave unit’s banged up from the scuffle with Geoff.

If Melissa or Betty listen to this then know that I killed him due to my own convictions about the state of this country and it was in no way, shape or form personal. I am sorry for your loss.

To the Sons of Moscow, I am sorry I could not have been of further use to the cause, Unity08, I apologize if your reputation around there has now been tarnished. While I’m not a suitable fit for your team, I hope you’ll find someone who is.

Yeah, I’m going to end the recording here. As for who I am; I am Grigori Lesnitsky, a nobody Lo-sec who killed the Police Chief of the Department of Public Safety in Sunflower City; Geoff Watson. To hell with Eden and long live the Revolution.

TBC.