City-21 “Kyiv,” UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Sky Bastion “Queen Lamarck,” Strategic Command Center of the Fourth Division of Internal Security and Counterintelligence Service
Jurgen von Scholz, August 14, 2049, 04:31
As the head of the powerful Fourth Division of Internal Security and Counterintelligence Service of the UNSA Protectorate within the Avril Dominion, Jurgen von Scholz enjoyed certain privileges. Among these was the freedom to organize his headquarters precisely as he deemed fit, even if it contradicted numerous traditions and historical roots, so cherished by most of the Avril-born.
The operations command center occupied the largest premise on Deck Twenty-One, which was entirely assigned to the needs of the Service. Everything here was designed to meet the head’s requirements. Except that he had to reluctantly forego his favorite dim artificial lighting. But all the other elements fully reflected von Scholz’s nature. Efficiency. Practicality. The absence of unnecessary details.
The style could be described as “functional minimalism” at its finest. Ergonomic furniture, primarily in shades of gray. No bright banners, flags, useless screens, or other distracting pompous decorations. Along the left wall was a long row of workstations where junior officers of the analytical department, from lieutenants to stabshauptmanns, were already seated.
At the center of the room stood a massive high-tech table with an active work surface. It was possible not only to conveniently visualize various informational objects and display holograms on it, but also to operate with full-fledged GT constructs. This could even be done collaboratively, as long as there were enough Geist-Tokens and the participants had the necessary experience. While it couldn’t open a portal to the world of the Great Spheres, the capabilities were still vast.
Now, the senior officers of the Fourth Division, von Scholz’s direct subordinates involved in the current operation, had gathered around. This included all three tactical liaison officers with the Fourth Army of Avril. Analysts from the Temple had predicted that the rebel operation would begin today, most likely at 4:45 AM. Given the complexity of operations to counter and eliminate renouncers in any world, they were always carried out in close coordination with the military. Their strategic headquarters had already been deployed, and the designated military units were on high alert.
“Sir, we’ve detected a mass, coordinated calls for TACTA Drones at the NES Factory site, exactly as predicted,” the operations officer and von Scholz’s first deputy said, projecting a tactical hologram over the table. Oberst-Protector Hans von Falkenstein, a tall man with gray temples and sharp features, zoomed in on the projection of the ill-fated ‘Factory’ with a hand gesture. “Here is the data we’ve received so far. All the landing sites of the arrived machines are marked on the map.”
“Well, well. Impressive,” Jurgen smirked. “Not every mirror-world’s dwellers manage to coordinate and execute a synchronized call to ensure the Drones’ protective fields overlap. Still, that’s even better. The social psychology department’s analysts believe the broadcast will be 25-30% more effective than we anticipated. Are the cameras in place?”
“Yes, sir. Stabshauptmann Mayer’s team is also on-site. Sophia-Elisabeth is planning to shoot part of her report against the backdrop of artillery bombardment during the final stage,” replied a dark-skinned man of medium height with wavy black hair and a serious expression — Oberst-Lieutenant Ivan de Segueira, liaison officer with the Department of Social Psychology.
“Excellent,” von Scholz nodded with satisfaction. “Oberst-Lieutenant Rattanyer, you may continue.”
“The anti-stealth drones are already in position,” responded a petite woman with short chestnut hair, the First Tactical liaison officer with the Fourth Army of Avril. “However, the analysts are confident there are exits from the area that aren’t marked on our maps. And they will be heavily camouflaged. The local authorities in this polis allowed such things — the corruption levels had been extremely high.”
“I see. I’ll order additional drones to reinforce the perimeter,” von Scholz replied, sending the necessary order without delay. “Colleagues, a reminder: any cloaked targets must be eliminated with extreme prejudice, but only after ensuring that at least three aerial cameras are recording.”
“Yes, sir,” responded Oberst-Lieutenant de Segueira. “Great Father, the True Keeper of Thought, the Embodied Eternal Sun, has granted us an additional one hundred and seven threads for direct control of the airborne media units. This will be excellent material, I assure you! This world has great potential — the Geist-Token collection is already exceeding forecasts by 13.6 percent!”
“Sir, perhaps we should deploy the defensive field in the Towers in advance?” interjected a platinum blonde with Nordic features and piercing blue eyes, the liaison officer with the Engineering Group. “If we’re going to activate it, we need to start immediately.”
“No, Oberst-Lieutenant Andersen, that would provoke a massive Shaiszu attack as soon as it’s deactivated. They know perfectly well that we have a thirty-minute window before we can activate it again. Let’s keep it as a reserve for an exceptional case.”
Gesturing towards the hologram of the area, which now showed several more drone groups, von Scholz continued, “For now, increasing the number of patrol drones between the Towers will suffice. A large object like a truck won’t slip through unnoticed, and smaller vehicles like motorcycles and buggies aren’t as important — let them go. There’s already a lot of Shaiszu beyond the perimeter; without heavy equipment, they won’t last long.”
Jurgen von Scholz folded his arms across his chest and added, “As for the targets under Directive 9/00, they won’t abandon their AI, which means they’ll need at least a truck or a large van to move it. So, there’s no way they’ll get past the drones. Let’s get to work, gentlemen.”
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City-21 “Kyiv,” UNSA Protectorate, Avril Dominion
Industrial Zone “NES Factory,” August 14, 2049, 4:29 AM
A piercing siren echoed across the entire facility. The synchronized mass summoning of TACTA Drones by nearly all the Factory’s residents was scheduled for 4:30 AM. With only one minute left before the major event, the tension was palpable.
Coordinating such a large-scale activity with maximum efficiency and safety required considerable effort from the working group. Ten stationary secure communication points were established across the territory, in agreement with the Linkers, so that everyone could sign a contract with TACTA and safely summon a Drone.
Miro and his crew made it clear to all the hesitant local residents that there was no real choice in the matter. The final message from the Factory’s last ‘owner’ was straightforward: “Either you summon a Drone at 4:30 AM, in premium mode for the full ten minutes, or you’re dead.”
Faced with the barrels of automatic rifles, there were no volunteers eager to play the hero and die for it. Although Maksim had mixed feelings about such a heavy-handed approach, he couldn’t deny its effectiveness in the current situation — and it was likely the only viable option given the circumstances. Lives were at stake: his own, his team’s, and Alisa’s, after all. So, when Professor Gorich had responded to the question of how to quickly convince all the residents to call the Drones simultaneously with, “Simple — I won’t be convincing them,” Max had only nodded in silent agreement.
By temporarily allocating a significant portion of Moira’s resources, they devised a detailed plan for the summoning. This included recommendations for potential orders for future TACTA partners — naturally, for those who were interested.
The most crucial challenge was that the new version of the System wasn’t ready yet. Dasha was just about to embark on a significant upgrade using special pharma. However, by leveraging all the existing Moira’s assets and resources, they managed to facilitate cooperation for the joint summoning by individuals and small teams based on their capabilities and interests.
To start, all participants who needed a group were sent a detailed questionnaire. After analyzing all the collected responses, they created a large informational cluster. Then their complex task was accomplished, using Moira’s social data processing algorithms.
This created a WIN-WIN situation, as it allowed successful grouping of solo individuals according to their strengths and preferences. In the end, all the summoning requests were organized, with the majority of teams consisting of four members. A few exceptions remained, with teams of three or five participants.
The rationale behind this strategy was to synchronize the departure times of all the Drones, ensuring that their protective fields would dissipate simultaneously. Of course, each partner’s initiation time was unique, but there was confidence that those differences would be minimal, justifying this coordinated approach. The summoning points were strategically placed to ensure that the protective fields overlapped, forming a continuous, secure zone.
As for Maksim’s team, they gained an invaluable set of data for the initial training of the System.
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Maksim Chernykh’s Team
“Thirty seconds until the Drone arrives,” Alisa’s calm voice seemed to be the signal for the grand spectacle to unfold over Kyiv.
In the still-dark pre-dawn sky, a large swarm of bright objects, resembling meteors, became visible to the naked eye. Hurtling toward the city at incredible speeds, they would have struck terror into any unprepared observer. Fifteen seconds later, a distant rumble could be heard, rapidly intensifying into a deafening roar.
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[Flashbang protection!] Maksim commanded, anticipating that the noise upon the Drones’ landing might become unbearable.
But it turned out to be unnecessary. Suddenly, just seconds before arrival, the flames and the terrifying noise abruptly ceased. In the next moment, something resembling a massive cloud appeared high above the heads of the waiting people. It quickly descended, enveloping most of the Factory’s territory in an opaque gray mist, shielding it from external observation. Yet, for the renouncers, visibility hardly changed — only a faint purple lattice shimmered in the sky, a sign of the most advanced and comprehensive protective system they could have imagined.
Maksim stared intently at the approaching Drone. Surprisingly, it looked more like an aircraft than a missile, despite descending from orbit. The thirteen-meter-long behemoth, oddly resembling a somewhat streamlined sea container with small wings and a wide T-shaped tail, came to a precise halt, hovering just ten centimeters above the ground.
“What a bizarre design,” Max pondered as he observed the wings on the levitating mass of metal beside him. However, these stray thoughts vanished as soon as he and his entire team received simultaneous messages from TACTA.
# Drone RC-PT 128014 on site
# Scenario:
## Installation of Cortical Grid expansion modules (Model NEM, tier1), three Partners
## Installation of a Cortical Grid expansion module (Model NEM, tier1) and a specialized adaptation system for full cyborgs, one Partner
## Completion of Independent Partners TACTA group registration, 4 partners
## Crediting the received grants
## Payment and order fulfillment
# WARNING! The first initiation must begin within sixty seconds upon receiving this message
#60… 59… 58…
Maksim was to go first. It might be the result of extensive analysis and calculations, but in reality, the team had simply drawn lots at Nikola’s suggestion. Alisa was definitely going last, at her own insistence.
The installation procedure was thoroughly detailed in the Informatorium for all types of Partners, from humans to full cyborgs. It was quite straightforward — one just needed to provide access to the upper back, neck, and nape. The Drone would handle the rest. In specific cases — such as Alisa’s — materials for producing and installing necessary specialized modules had to be prepared or ordered. But this was only for complex cyborg setups; standard implants were installed immediately, with the cost included in the summoning fee.
By the time the Informatorium app requested an AR broadcast, Maksim had already set aside his helmet, unstrapped his tactical vest, and removed his body armor. Next, he just needed to agree, strip to the waist, and follow the simple and clear instructions displayed before his eyes.
Approach the device.
Sit in the specially prepared seat.
Grip the designated handles, placing his arms in the provided niches.
Lean forward and secure his chin in the holder.
As soon as these steps were complete, a small operational robot emerged from the Drone and hovered above Maksim’s back, releasing numerous thin manipulators.
A request for full administrative access to his systems popped up in his sub-brain.
“Damn, I don’t like this one bit!” Maksim thought.
But it was too late to back out now and proudly refuse TACTA’s help. He might be paranoid, but he wasn’t stupid. Reluctantly, grinding his teeth, he gave consent — and the robot began its work.
First, the sub-brain disabled his sensitivity, then precise punctures were made on his back, neck, and nape. The manipulators delved into his body, installing the micro-update modules.
Meanwhile, a progress bar appeared in Maksim’s vision, indicating how much time was left until the operation was complete. A pleasant surprise — the sum of TACTA grants being credited to his partner account was also displayed, steadily increasing. Sixty-seven seconds later, both the progress bar and the crediting process halted.
In essence, both the hardware and software of his main systems were updated: the cortical grid control module, the sub-brain, and even the interface implant for compatibility with the alien standards. Remarkably, they managed to do this without even requiring a reboot!
In the final step, the robot carefully applied small circles of regenerative patches over each puncture on his back.
# Operation successfully completed! (Download detailed report)
# CONGRATULATIONS!
# You have successfully completed registration as an Independent TACTA Partner.
# Received 166,280 grants
# Current ranking position… calculating and generating lists.
# Attention! Public ranking display will begin at 2:00 AM, 20.08.2049
# Current confirmed Partner category: 6 (F)
# Documentation (download)
# Full capabilities of the Informatorium: unlocked.
Next in line was Nikola. She had already stripped to the waist, even removing her sports bra, without the slightest hint of embarrassment. Dasha couldn’t help but sigh quietly, sneaking a glance at Redhead’s impressive chest. Unfortunately for Vasilevskaya, she had little to boast about in that department.
Before starting the procedure, the Nika received a few rather stern warnings from TACTA, as she had opted to upgrade her cyber-core to TACTA’s standard, in addition to the mandatory cortical grid expansion required by the Drone call.
# You are about to install a Cyber-Core upgrade module to standard C-1
# This upgrade is irreversible (non-removable)
# This upgrade will allow you to install additional cyber-modules and limbs manufactured by TACTA that comply with standard C-1 or lower.
# WARNING!
# Cyborgs of this type are officially prohibited from being within the Protectorate without a diplomatic visa or a visa of category AM2 or AM3.
# If such a cyborg is found without a visa, a Kill-On-Sight directive will be applied.
# This upgrade is not mandatory to complete registration as an independent partner of TACTA.
# Proceed with installation? Yes/No
“Fucking perfect,” Nikola thought with a nod. “Bring it on, that’s exactly how I like it! I’ll dish it right back to those bastards.”
“Yes, kurwa!” she exclaimed.
Given the complexity of the module installation, simple punctures wouldn’t suffice. After Redhead granted full access to her sub-brain, the surgical drone summoned a pair of “assistants,” and the operation commenced.
As with most cyborgs, especially military-grade ones, Nikola’s cyber-core was installed as a specialized extension over the sub-brain, anchored directly to it. The primary drone started with a surgically precise and careful incision along the upper segments of her spine.
As soon as it was made, one of the helper drones deployed a translucent membrane that automatically sealed around the cut, creating a sterile field. This was essential not only to protect against microbes and viruses but also to control the temperature and humidity, preventing tissue from drying out during the operation.
To disable and replace the old Cyber-Core “live”, without a full reboot, the drones used a redundancy scheme. Temporary external blocks would maintain vital functions and control over Nikola’s numerous implants and cyber-modules, including her cybernetic limbs. Every action was meticulously calculated: the disconnection and reconnection of neural links was to be done in stages, to minimize any risk for the central nervous system.
The drone’s micro-manipulators carefully detached the first segments of the old cyber-core from the sub-brain and spine, simultaneously extracting the connecting modules. Meanwhile, the second drone was installing the new blocks — significantly more powerful, capable of handling more complex computational processes, and with many more data transmission channels.
And so that the girl would not be bored during the procedure, she was also shown a progress bar and a grant counter, just like Maksim.
Once all segments of the cyber-core were replaced, the primary drone performed a full system check, verifying its functioning, all connections and the link to the sub-brain. A detailed report on the successful integration of the new components with Nikola’s cyber-systems was sent to her AR.
The final stage was to restore the skin. The membrane protecting Nika’s back dissolved, leaving behind a thin protective layer that would stimulate healing and provide additional securing from external factors in the first hours after the operation. The drone closed the incision using bio-stitches, which would dissolve on their own within a few days, leaving no scars.
The entire operation took just one minute and thirteen seconds, once again demonstrating to the team the level of TACTA’s technical prowess.
# CONGRATULATIONS!
# You have successfully completed registration as an Independent TACTA Partner!
# Received 159,701 grants
Just like Maksim, Nikola wasn’t shown her current ranking, and she was also assigned the same confirmed Partner category — F.
Now it was Dasha’s turn. To be honest, the poor girl was a nervous wreck. No, it wasn’t the fact that she had the most complex and sophisticated sub-brain in the team or that her cortical network would be upgraded — it was much worse!
“Damn, damn, oh crap… I have to… strip to the waist! Yeah! In front of! Maksim! I’ll have to take off my bra, the surgery's going to run almost all the way down to my tailbone… Why?!!!”
So, when her time came, the beet-red girl croaked out, “Maxie, don’t look, please,” shrugged off the shirt she had been using for cover, and marched resignedly toward the Drone, clutching the wretched piece of underwear in her little, sweaty hand.
But, as is often the case, our greatest fears are all in our heads. Maksim obediently turned away, and even Nikola followed suit, just for company. As for the operation… well, TACTA likely had conducted such procedures not just millions, but countless billions of times. Everything went smoothly and swiftly, though it took one and a half times longer than Maksim’s — probably due to the complexity of Dasha’s implanted hardware.
# CONGRATULATIONS!
# You have successfully completed registration as an Independent TACTA Partner!
# Received 181,350 grants
Contrary to her naturally curious nature, Dasha didn’t even glance at the operation report or wonder why she had been awarded such a large sum.
No. Her first priority was to hastily pull on her sports bra and seizing her shirt.
“You can turn around now,” the now-contented girl called out, buttoning up.
Suddenly, her vision darkened. Her arms fell limp. Stumbling, she took a few shaky steps and then froze, battling dizziness.
“Max, I nee-” Daria didn’t finish her sentence before she lost consciousness.
Maksim reacted instantly, darting forward to catch her in his arms before she could hit the ground. At that moment, everyone on the team received a message:
# This is Drone RC-PT 128014. A minor malfunction has been detected in the Partner during initial adaptation following the Cortical Grid upgrade.
# In accordance with TACTA’s protocols and guaranteed obligations for upgrade installations, emergency medical assistance will be provided immediately.
# Attention! After the medical assistance is complete, the 50-second countdown to the next operation will restart.
Confirming these words, the countdown timer paused, and a small medical drone advanced toward Maksim and Dasha.
Approaching the girl, it emitted a brief command, “Please remain still.”
For several seconds, the drone simply hovered in place, likely performing some analyses. Then, a compartment opened on the front of the machine, revealing a manipulator holding a transparent medical breathing mask.
The mask touched Daria’s face, adhering to it snugly. Under the transparent material, clouds of greenish-luminescent gas began to swirl. After the first breath, Dasha twitched, and with a few quick inhalations she drew in all the gas. She then went completely limp in Maksim’s arms, almost causing him to drop her in surprise.
# Situation stabilized. The Partner will regain consciousness within ten seconds.
# ATTENTION! Please proceed with the standard procedure. The fourth initiation from the four individuals listed in the group call must begin no later than fifty seconds after receiving this message.
# 50… 49… 48…