KYBER-PUNK 22BBY [Inspired Inventor+]

— Atom —

For a short few hours, I knew peace. There was nothing else to call it. Peace, with the crew at my back, Sasha willingly taking on the burden of actually doing shit, and Fay to ensure the peace remained that way. It was… kind of exactly what I needed.

I'd made myself a new Legend, a proper Legend. But despite what Smasher would say, Legends still need rest. Perhaps not physically. I took after my genetic donor in that way, at least. But mentally? The chance to recover and collect myself was very, very welcome.

Something had shifted during my fight with Smasher. Afterward, I was left… a bit more whole, a bit more settled. Like I suddenly wasn't scrambling to and fro to establish myself. Because I wasn't. Not anymore. All my efforts, everything I'd done and accomplished, paid off with a new Legend. Something intangibly tangible to show for months of violence, hard work, and great feats.

Being a Legend in Night City had a certain weight to it. Respect and fame and the promise of going down in history. Countless before me strived for the title. Few actually achieved it. But those who did… they were remembered. Their legacies might as well have been set in stone, or at least the basis of them.

For me, Legend status was a place to pause. A place that I couldn't fall from once I got there. A pitstop on the rock wall of great fucking things that we all climbed. A milestone there was no going back from.

Even if I died here and now, I'd last against the sands of time as far as Night City was concerned. The Legend would never let me and mine be forgotten, for my people were just as intertwined with it as I was. We'd earned that lingering memory, proven we were there to stay, and knew it was only up from here.

Already, that path upward was showing. Dismantling Smasher had brought Arasaka to the negotiating table. Directly to the top as the Emperor himself met with us. Sasha exploited that opportunity on my behalf and at my direction. Her contribution — An inexperienced street kid trying her best vs. An ancient and dignified corpo — was part of my Legend. Ours. When the books were written, I wouldn't let any of us be forgotten, especially not Sasha.

All of that said, watching Sasha try her very best for me was a balm for my recovering and resurging mental state. I picked my proverbial ass back up, more whole for the process. While I did, Sasha stood for me against impossible odds. Negotiating with Saburo Arasaka was negotiating with a monster. But Sasha — mostly — held her own with Gloria and Fay to support her.

The peace lasted throughout those blissful, much-needed hours. For me, at least. The negotiations were undoubtedly stressful in the extreme for Sasha and Gloria. I'd bet good money Fay had seen worse. But even against her, the Emperor was no meager 'foe'.

We never moved from the table where we first met Saburo. Datapads were brought out in force. Each contained valuable information. Details to argue and struggle over, advantages for Sasha to claw to our side. From what I gathered, the amount of paydata Saburo had on the Gonk Cartel was… a touch frightening. Other than Sstala, I doubted anyone knew our operations better.

Yet, the Emperor provided us with a similar level of information about Arasaka. All the better for efficient, effective deal-making. For every secret of ours the Emperor somehow knew, he provided equally sensitive information for his corp. Our lines of profit to his production numbers. Our force limits to the arms he could provide. Our control over the Kabuki Markets to a very deep-pocketed Arasaka expense account. And we were even able to combine paydata of our newly shared enemies — Militech and Clan alike.

The negotiations were a slog of nitty-gritty details and considerations. As it went on, I became increasingly glad Sasha had volunteered herself for this role. Dealing with it directly, I doubted I would have the same patience she showed, even if she was steadily becoming more and more strained.

A contract was crafted, and then changed and changed and changed as Sasha and Saburo went back and forth. The Emperor was in his element. Sasha very much wasn't — not yet — but she pushed forward anyway.

The final deal came out as an alliance between equals, just as had been initially agreed. But the real work shined through the details. More and less than a mutual defense pact. Arasaka would actively join our war against the Hutt Clans. They'd fight with us there but at the same time, we wouldn't be dragged into every fight the corp picked. Just as they wouldn't be dragged into every one of ours. The Hutts, as usual, required… special consideration.

From a purely monetary standpoint, we were still left to live or die on our own. They wouldn't subsidize us. We wouldn't have to pay any sort of tribute to them. Our bank accounts remained our own, for good and for ill.

But trade-wise, Arasaka's services were wide open to the Gonk Cartel. When it came to their iron and chrome, their meds, and even some of their connections, we'd get the first pick of the lot. In exchange, the Gonk Cartel could expect to be the first place Arasaka looked for… less savory trade. Spice, smuggling, and solos for hire, mostly.

By the time the deal was finally finalized, I'd somewhat checked out of things. In the best of ways. I trusted Sasha and Gloria to do right by us with my life — and Fay closely enough. I could leave everything to them and simply sit back in a big found-family huddle with the rest of the crew.

Maine's large, large back was against mine and David's as we all supported each other. Dorio rested her head on his broad shoulder and Kiwi laid back with her head in Dorio's lap. Becca had settled like a snoring rimbo puppy in my lap and Lucy lounged against one of my shoulders, absently tracing the recovering ripples of my Living Beskar skin. It was… comfortable. Force, was it comfortable…

Perhaps it could've been considered showing weakness in Arasaka's place of power. But I don't think any of us thought of it that way. To us, it was companionship and solidarity. Family. I wouldn't have traded that moment for the whole alliance with Arasaka.

When she was done, Sasha slumped her way over to us, visibly drained. She wiggled herself between me and David, clinging tightly to my side. I could quite literally feel her recharging like that. Gloria came to join as well, hugging David from the other side and resting partially against Maine's free arm. A brief moment of negotiation-induced tension remained before Sasha utterly relaxed into the huddle.

"Atom…" She mumbled. "Need sign."

"Good deal?" I asked, pulling myself from my comfortable recovery fugue.

"As good as we're going to get from that devil," Sasha hissed back.

Gloria chuckled, "It's a good deal. The Emperor just made us fight for every bit of it."

"Good work, Sasha. And you, Gloria," Dorio praised softly.

"Yeah," I nodded in agreement. "Good work. I'm proud of you both. Especially you, Sasha."

Sasha let out a pleased little whimper, "MMmm~… I could die happy right here and now. Kriff, I just might…"

Maine chuckled, "Don't let the corpo bloodsuckers win, girl."

"But-! But-! They're so bloodsucky!" Sasha whined. "I can't even feel my brain anymore!"

"Pass me that datapad and let yourself relax," I offered. "You've done enough. More than earned that much. I'll do the rest."

The relieved sigh she let out seemed to come from her very soul. The aforementioned datapad was passed my way. It required a bit of finagling on my part to accept it around the huddle. That finagling jostled Becca in my lap. She jolted into awareness.

"I'm 'wake! Wakey-wake!"

"Back to sleep with you," I deadpanned. "We don't need our rimbo just yet."

"Hmmnurgl~? 'Kay~…" She slurred, already drifting off again. "Wag' me-…-yup when the viol'nnce hit… Zzzzzz…"

I got to reading the final contract. As I did, I noted the longing looks Fay was shooting our way. She'd rejoined the Jedi Knights, who'd passed the time with meditation, but it was clear she wanted a piece of the found-family huddle. In the Force, I sent her a vague sense of 'earn it'. I'd gladly welcome her into future huddles… if she proved worth the honor.

Judging by the way she blinked in surprise and then sent her determination back through the Force, she'd be doing that much soon enough. Even eternal Jedi Masters wanted a place to belong…

Across the table, Saburo looked utterly unaffected by the hours of negotiation. If anything, he was glowing. V was at his side, having been only a bit less involved than Gloria. She looked about as drained as Sasha, though, and just barely found the energy to smirk my way.

"Enjoying the 'break', choom?" She teased.

I nodded shamelessly, "I am. I very much am. What's not to enjoy?"

Saburo casually sipped his tea, having had V brew another pot just for him, "It is a wise man who knows how he recharges best."

Surprisingly, Smasher rumbled his support, "NOTHING WRONG WITH A GOOD FOUND-FAMILY HUDDLE. THAT SHIT KEPT ME AND MY FIRST CREW WARM IN CORUSCANT'S UNDERCITY WHEN I WAS STILL MEAT."

"I have trouble picturing you cuddling — sorry, 'huddling' — with anyone, Smasher, meat or not," V joked.

"PICTURE HARDER."

"This… all seems fine enough," I said, addressing Saburo directly.

As I did, I looked at him from a makeshift throne of pure loyalty. The Emperor must've noticed and appreciated the symbolism. That's what his raised eyebrow and amused expression said, anyway. In his place of power, with his samurai lining the edges of the room, we'd carved ourselves a slice. The Emperor, at the very least, seemed to approve of the audacity.

"I sense a 'but'," He replied.

I nodded, "But… I'd like to add one other consideration. I want V."

V blinked, "I- huh?"

"While she works for me, she is hardly mine to give," Saburo was utterly unfazed.

"Not like that," I denied. "Not slavery. I want her time, her expertise, and her connection to you. I want her to be Arasaka's primary liaison for the alliance."

"A much more reasonable request," Saburo nodded. "I see…"

V seemed a touch shaken by my open declaration, by my bargaining for her, but she did her best to cover it with her usual smirk, "Can't get enough of me, can you, Atom? Careful, you might make me think you've fallen in love already~…"

"Something like that," I didn't reveal anything — not really — still staring down Saburo.

The Emperor weighed me with his returned gaze, "You ask for too much. I will require a portion of her time, too. She is to be Smasher's replacement, after all."

V blinked yet again, "I… am…?"

But the real battle, the real discussion, was still between me and the Emperor, "Then, more experience will always be good for her. She should be on the front lines. With us. As a liaison."

Saburo didn't disagree, "You may have half of her time."

"Huh…" V muttered to herself. "Guess I'm going splitsies. I feel like a child in a divorce."

"HEH," Smasher chortled. "EVEN AS JUST A HEAD, I'M RUINING 'MARRIAGES'. STILL GOT IT."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut up, scrappy."

"WATCH IT. I'LL STILL FIND A WAY TO 'SCRAP' YOUR ASS, V-BRAT," Smasher growled back.

Ignoring the familiar interplay between them, I agreed to Saburo's compromise, "I can work with that."

"It is decided, then," Saburo said with finality. "V shall be our liaison. And I will assign a squad of samurai to her permanent command."

"Isla," V spoke up instantly. "Definitely Isla. I don't want anyone else."

At the edge of the room, the mentioned samurai sergeant glanced away bashfully, "Commander…"

V heard her and grinned, "Don't fight it, babes. You're mine. Just like I promised, neh?"

"It's… an honor, truly. I won't let you down."

"Well, now," Saburo sipped his tea. "This has been a pleasantly productive first meeting. I feel that I have a better grasp of you and yours, Atom, and a new alliance to boot. Tell me, does our agreement cover the Jedi in your service as well?"

"Can't speak for them," I answered curtly. "They're… freelancers at most. Allies of allies to you."

"Don't expect us to do your corporate bidding," Quinlan said, joining the conversation. "I'm sure you're familiar with the Order's usual stance on such things."

"Yes, yes," Saburo waved. "Your Order answers to a different higher power. Not that there's much of a difference in the end."

Aayla shifted awkwardly, "We… follow the will of the Force, not just the Senate."

Saburo raised a single cutting and telling eyebrow, "Do you?"

"It is why we're here," Fay answered, unbothered by the Emperor's doubt. "I am removed from the Order in its present state. And young Aayla and Quinlan have heard no commands from the Core. The corruption you refer to undeniably exists. But I wouldn't say it plagues me and my younger peers."

"They're working with us against slavery," I added. "And to a greater extent, against the rising kyber-spice menace."

"About that stuff," V began. "What's the deal? I haven't been able to find much yet. Some secret Militech project, sure, but why does that call for Jedi involvement?"

"It is a unique brand of spice that the late Zorba seemingly developed," Saburo answered, and I wasn't even surprised he knew. "There is potential for it to be advantageous to our enemies, am I correct? I'm afraid even I don't know as much as I'd like."

"If successfully harnessed, yeah," I nodded. "That's why we've been stomping it out at every opportunity. I'm sure I don't have to say why Force Tweakers could be problematic. But it's not just that simple. Kyber-spice is essentially caustic. Not physically, but…"

Fay explained somberly. "It is a pestilence to the Force. An unholy, terrible thing. By the nature of its creation, it infests the Force with hundreds of millions of unborn souls. By its effects, it forges false connections to the Force in its users, and if there is a preexisting connection, that Force User becomes swollen with false, infested weight. It is an abomination to both the Light and the Dark."

Saburo's brow furrowed, "That… sounds concerning. I wasn't aware of the metaphysical aspects of the issue, but I shall take your word for it, Master Jedi. I suppose I can understand why it's your primary concern here on Nar Shaddaa."

Quinlan shuddered subtly, "So. Many. Damned. Bugs…"

"Bugs…?" V asked in slowly dawning horror.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," I said firmly.

She nodded slowly, "… You're right. I really don't. Kyber-spice. Burn on sight. Got it."

"Should we add that as a condition to our alliance?" Saburo asked honestly.

"Yes," My reply came in an instant. "Just. Yes. There's no way it ends well. The sooner every ounce of it is destroyed, the better."

"Very well," Saburo agreed easily enough. "We shall do just that. Arasaka will take no part in this kyber-spice."

"That… is a relief to here, I must say-…" Fay smiled softly before going completely and utterly still. Even the expression froze on her face, "Oh, dear… I sense a disturbance in the Force."

Immediately, as if hearing a calling only she could hear, Becca sprang to full awareness, grinning maniacally, "Moon's haunted~?"

"Not that kind of disturbance," I deadpanned, catching Fay's vibe and tensing involuntarily.

I felt what she must've felt a moment later. As did Aayla, Quinlan, and David. Danger. Muted danger, but danger from the Force all the same. Worse, I recognized the premonition. For the second time in as many months, a damning proverbial angel was above us in orbit. I saw flashes of a Hutt War Barge rolling in space, its broadside cannons orienting down onto us.

"… Again?" Fay whispered. She already sounded exhausted.

"Fucking Hutt cunts…!" I swore.

"They never know when to fraggin' quit!" David joined my blue streak.

"Language," Saburo casually chided.

"Hutts in orbit," Quinlan called, his voice flat. "It might be best to brace ourselves."

"That won't be necessary," Even as panic struck, Saburo remained unfazed, simply enjoying the rest of his tea.

Strangely, truth resonated from his words. It combined with that muted feeling of the premonition. There was danger, but… there also wasn't. Where we were, we were perfectly safe. Hell, the whole tower was, unlike Zorba's. Which meant we could carefully and calmly respond to the Clans' attack so long as that truth held.

"Even with a whole fleet in orbit, they would not be able to touch us," Saburo calmly explained. "I spare no expense for the defense of my holdings. Orbital shields might cost a significant portion of Arasaka's yearly GDP each, but I consider them worth every credit."

… Zorba obviously hadn't, the cheap, incompetent slug. He likely never had enough money saved up to even consider having one installed… Still, that was very good news. A second Towerfall didn't seem to be in our future. That just left the all-out Clan attack on Night City and Arasaka Tower to deal with. Honestly? Manageable.

I pushed myself up and out of the huddle. Becca slid off my lap in the process, already primed and ready for violence. It would come to us, even here, I was sure. For the briefest of moments, Sasha whined as she lost my warmth. Almost immediately after, though, she was steeling herself for action like the rest of the crew.

"Someone get in contact with Linth and the Nomads. Let's get our birds in the air," I ordered. "The Hutts may get off a first shot, but we won't let them get a second."

"And the rest of the attack? No way this is just another orbital strike, choom," Maine said.

"Shank and Coyate will have to lead the ground efforts," I replied. "I have a feeling we're going to be boxed in here. The Clans will be after us first and foremost. And Militech will likely be after you, Emperor."

Saburo nodded, still casually finishing his tea, "I expect as much as well. I doubt reinforcements will be able to get through this coming siege anytime soon. Fortunately, we have a rather defensive position here at the top. And I trust the rest of my employees with the defense of the greater tower."

"BULLSHIT. THIS IS BULLSHIT," Smasher grumbled. "PROPER FUCKING SIEGE AND I'M STUCK WITHOUT A FUCKING FRAME."

I pulled his head to me with the Force and strapped him back to my belt, "Guess you're riding along already, Scrapper."

"THE FUCK YOU CALL ME?"

"You heard me. What are you gonna do about it?"

"… FUCK. BULLSHIT. FUCK!"

"I've put out the general alarm. The rest of the tower will be on high alert," Saburo said, despite not having moved an inch from his kneeling position.

"Linth got the call," Gloria reported. "He's already en route with the Nomads at his back. They're being pressed from the Limits, too, though."

"Maine? Lucy? You got the overall battle map?" I asked.

"I can rig something up real quick," Lucy nodded. "This place has great reception. We can take reports from all over the city. Sasha, Kiwi, and I can make sure all of that paydata shows up so Maine can handle the strategy."

"If you don't need me for anything else, I can try my hand at battle meditation," Fay offered. "I am… out of practice, but I'm sure I'll warm up quickly in the thick of it."

"Do it," I confirmed. "I'll be damned if we have worse overall coordination than the fucking Hutts."

For those first few moments, orders and reports came fast and furious. I was sure it was the same for the Emperor, despite how unbothered he seemed by all of it. There was a certain light in his eyes that spoke of half a dozen open comms at the same time in his cyberdeck.

Even when the first barrage hit, we didn't miss a beat. Orbital plasma rained down on us. Above, through the glass dome overhead, I could see each impact on a blooming shield. But as Saburo claimed, the tower wasn't even touched. Barely even a shake to the foundations. Turbolasers pounded and pounded and pounded, and got nowhere.

In the cooldown of the first barrage, a wing of starfighters swooped toward the tip of the tower. At us. But even that well-coordinated attempt to keep up the pressure from the Hutts was ineffective. Turrets placed all along the tower woke and spat fury.

Half of the fighters went up in explosive flames. A few more splattered against the tower's shields, unexpected from their side of things. The last couple were quick enough to pull up and abort their attack. But they were chased by turrets the entire way.

Soon after, a second barrage began… and was brought to a halt just as quickly. Directly above, explosions decorated near-orbit. A dozen relatively tiny crafts swarmed the large War Barge. Flaming scars were carved across its durasteel skin. Linth and the Nomads arrived with style and began pushing hard for air superiority.

Closer to the ground, however, Arasaka Tower was being put under siege. The high-frequency orbital shields were much less useful against fleets and fleets of smaller crafts from lower altitudes. And as orbital shields, they were concentrated at the top of the tower as a matter of common sense. That left the lower floors — the majority of the tower, really — open to attack from actually competent Militech forces.

The tower's turrets were quickly being overwhelmed. The Militech half of the attack boxed us in with few avenues of escape. Down below, plasma must've been flying hot and heavy. For now, Arasaka's defense held. But it was plenty clear that Militech was going all in.

The situation throughout the rest of the city was likely similar. But Night City natives were never the type to go easily. The whole city would be rising up against Clan invaders. That didn't change the fact that we'd have a long fight on our hands here.

For the first time in the Gonk-Hutt War, our side was truly put on the defensive. But we had new allies, and our enemies were now finding that out firsthand. For our shared home, all of Night City would fight. And I knew one thing for certain: the Attack on Arasaka Tower (and Night City) would go down in history…

A Legend for the whole city to share.

IIIII

— Panam —

"Oh, I've got a junker, and she flies so sweet," Linth called over the commlines.

Multiple comms called back in response, "SO CRISP! SO CLEAN! LIKE CUTTING A SHEET!"

"Without her, I swear, I would not be complete."

"SO TRUE! SO BOLD! LIKE SHE'LL NEVER GROW OLD!"

On and on, the call-and-response song went. Linth the Spacer shared many a thing in common with the Nomads, and a song about noble old junkers hit those similarities to the core. Panam was sure Linth started it to set the Nomads a bit more at ease during their first real battle. But it'd become something of a chant. A warcry. A prayer, even, to the durasteel steeds they rode.

Every one of their ships was the junker in Linth's familiar song. And every one of those junkers was loved and cherished. Revered by their pilots and crews. They were blood, sweat, and scrap. They were spirit and gumption. And now, they would fly and die together.

Glorious space combat called. The Nomads and their junkers answered. Panam flew a Z-95 Headhunter Linth had loaned her. It was the best thing she'd ever called her own. It was quick and responsive. It'd be a beast in the dogfight. And once she'd opened her up and looked under the hood, Panam had fallen in love in an instant.

Unfortunately, Scorpion had won the right to name her first real ship long ago… And of course, he couldn't let her have something nice without a taste of his usual flair. He named her Z-95… 'Panam's Left Titty'. Like the jackass he was. Panam just called the ship 'Lefty'.

… To be fair to Scorpion though, the way Lefty flew felt just as 'perky' as the real thing. And just as sensitive 'on the stick'…

Panam sighed to herself. She really shouldn't be defending her brother-in-all-but-blood's jackassery. He was flying with the Nomad fleet as well. She'd been keeping track of both him and Mitch, an easy enough task when they were sharing the cockpit of one of Scorpion's precious YT-series.

Immediately after the Clan fleet appeared over Night City, the Gonk fleets were scrambling to intercept. But just as quickly, their forces were split. The attack came from two vectors. There was a larger Clan fleet in near-orbit, but the Limits were also under pressure from the ground. Quite a few Nomads — the majority, in fact — were allowed to peel off to defend their home turf.

Panam could only hold out hope that they'd push the Hutt forces there back. That left her, two dozen Nomad ships, and Linth's entire fleet to take care of the situation in orbit. The old spacer himself was in an honest-to-Stars Marauder-class Corvette and his capital ship was escorted by a dozen more starfighters and gunships. The Nomads didn't have such big guns to their name, but they had quantity and individual quality on their side.

Of course, the Hutts' orbital fleet wasn't anything to scoff at. For the Gonks' single capital ship, the Hutts had five. And a still significant number of starfighters at their disposal, too. Their two War Barges were the biggest threats, each nearly twice the size of Linth's capital ship. And still, the Gonks flew straight into battle without a moment of hesitation, Linth's call-and-response song at their backs.

"Oh, I've got a junker, and she's never let me down!"

"SO LOVELY! SO PREEM! LIKE SHE DESERVES EVERY CROWN!"

"So when it comes time for the showdown, how could Gonks like us ever think to frown~?"

Linth's first volley marked the opening salvo. Twin double turbolasers — paltry compared to the War Barge's stacked broadside — struck hard and true. A half-dozen single ones followed. A flaming scar lit up along the broadside turned down toward the surface of the moon. All at once, the War Barge's bombarding turbolasers popped to deadly, debilitating damage.

Immediately, the first War Barge began to drift. Half of its hull was already torn to pieces. Only now was the opposing fleet starting to react. By then, the Gonk starfighters had the lead, streaking in to wreak havoc across the enemy's fighter ranks.

Panam led that charge for the Nomads. Lefty seemed to eagerly obey her every thought. She lined up her first shot and held down the trigger. A Cloakshape was blown to bits. She rolled onto the next target. The second fighter went the same way as the first.

Before she pulled up and out of the initial orbital melee, she let off one of her precious proton torpedos into the damaged side of the first War Barge. Pure pink bloomed across her viewscreen for just a moment before she pulled back on the control stick. As she brought herself back around for a second pass, she saw the damage she'd dealt. The satisfaction was visceral.

At a single spot along the War Barge's damaged flank, the ship's core was suddenly exposed. Her nuclear payload had chewed straight through half of the massive Huttish ship — armor, essential deck space, secured compartments, and all. She'd done that. Lil' ol' Panam. Her and her lovely Left Titty… Dammit Scorpion.

As the first War Barge fell — breached to the void — the other four Hutt capital ships turned their sights on their lone peer enemy. Targeting locks were quickly acquired on Linth's Marauder. And that… that was exactly what the Gonk escorts weren't supposed to allow.

Fortunately, Panam and the other Gonk starfighters were well into the process of coming around for their second passes. Almost as one, they too turned their sights onto capital ships. Fighters and freighter-bombers streaked through near-orbit above Night City. Panam and her fellow fighters carved paths for the freighters-turned-bombers. The enemy starfighters who remained had more than met their match.

They were still in disarray from the first pass. They fought and flew alone, not as a whole fleet. Thus, they were made into easy pickings. A storm of streaking plasma rained down upon the Hutt fleet. Panam herself scored two more kills, her laser cannons barking fire and fury. The Hutt fighters she caught went down in smoke and flames. Others exploded gloriously as their reactors were breached. With their comrades at their sides and the Hutt fleet in chaos, the Gonks came out almost completely unfazed.

Then came the bombers. The big guns. The Hutt capital ships had responded better than their fighter escorts. But still not well enough to stop volley after volley of proton torpedos and concussion missiles alike. Point defense weapons handled some. The rest fought their way through to splash against shields and armor.

Linth's Marauder sent another barrage of turbolaser fire down range, aimed at the second War Barge. Along with the volley of concussion missiles, its shields were illuminated as they struggled to do their duty. The larger capital ship was brought up short. Not breached, but already essentially exhausted.

The other three Hutt capital ships — Consular-class Corvettes one and all — fared even less well. Concussion missiles overloaded their shields. Proton torpedos slammed into their hulls. One unlucky Corvette split right in half as well-coordinated torpedos all hit the same spot. Its reactor went critical soon after and only two parts of a husk were left drifting through the void.

Already down two capital ships, the Hutts fell back on the only thing they seemed to know: cowardice. The leading War Barge began to accelerate out and away from the fight. The two remaining Corvettes limped after it. Linth kept up the pressure with more and more turbolaser volleys as the enemy fled. His crew was well-trained — used to more than just bombarding innocents from orbit — and so more of the parting shots hit than not.

"Don't chase!" Linth barked over the commlines. "Consolidate the airspace! Night City is ours! Let them come again!"

The Gonk fleet followed his orders, pulling back into the space the Hutts just occupied. A makeshift perimeter quickly formed. The remnants of the Hutt fighter corps were caught within the Gonks' web. Then, it was just a matter of chasing them down. One by one, they died inglorious deaths.

"On your wing, Panny~!" Scorpion called.

"Wouldn't have it any other way, ya gonk!" She shouted back over Lefty's comms.

"Who's idea was it to let Scorpion fly a YT-Bomber-convert?" Mitch asked, deadpan.

"His," Panam laughed aloud freely. "All his. How's the gunner seat treating you, Mitch?"

"Well enough if I forget who my pilot is," He snarked.

"Oi!" Scorpion barked without any real offense in his voice. "I'm flyin' circles up here!"

"Circles down the drain, sure," Mitch deadpanned, no real heat in his voice either.

"On your other wing, Panam," Another call came over the comms. Falco — Panam recognized — the ace of Linth's fleet. "Good flying so far. All of ya."

"See?! Even the former Nomad thinks I'm flyin' circles!" Scorpion preened.

Falco chuckled, "No such thing. Once a Nomad, always a Nomad, choom."

"Damn straight," Panam nodded in her cockpit even though Falco couldn't see it.

Panam chased an enemy Headhunter as they spoke. The Hutt pilot jerked and juked but there was nowhere for them to truly go. They'd all been stranded without support, boxed in by overwhelming starfighter numbers.

The enemy pilot tried to shake Panam off their tail. But they flew the same ship, and she'd always put money on that extra little kick Nomads gave their vics. While the stock, poorly cared for Headhunter bucked desperately, Panam's Left Titty ran it down like a hound with a scent.

It faltered in a roll. Panam calmly squeezed the trigger. Her laser cannons caught it right in the ass. The engines sparked and exploded. The next shot caught the enemy ship right in the belly and instantly, nothing was left but space dust.

Falco's Nimbus starfighter streaked ahead off Panam's right wing. That thing was fraggin' quick. Likely the quickest ship in the fight. A bare moment later, he caught the prey he'd sighted. A Hutt Cloakshape had pulled onto one of their freighter-bomber's tails. They got off a single volley that caught the freighter in its wide engine and sent it limping. Then, Falco was on it, walking laser bolts clear across the Cloakshape from wing to wing.

With that, Panam's sensors found no more enemies to fly down. But the fight was far from done. Past the effective range of Linth's guns, the remaining Hutt capital ships were regrouping. Another wing of Hutt fighters joined them. Soon enough, they'd be coming back for a second round, much more prepared for a brawl.

The Gonks had seized back the airspace above Night City. Now, they had to keep it. Panam took a moment to let Lefty just drift. She shook her flying hands loose before retaking the stick. As Linth had said, Night City was theirs. The Hutts wanted it? Let them come. The Nomads would show them a proper Night City welcome.

IIIII

— Kiafus Kayne —

*BOOOM…!*

Kiafus Kayne liked to think he'd done rather well for himself in life.

*BOOM!*

He'd worked himself decently high up the ranks of Arasaka. Sure, he'd never left the moon — or even Night City, really — but did he have to? He was happy where he was. It was a simple life. What he had suited him just fine. A desk job he was passably decent at. Good pay and corpo benefits. Quite a few vacation days saved up…

*BOOOOOM!*

He'd have to see about using up those vacation days. If he made it through this mess of an active siege, that is… He knew the dangers of working at a megacorp like Arasaka in a city like Night City. He was native, how could he not? But this…? This had never been in the cards.

Corpo squabbles were regular. Routine, even. But they'd always been someone else's problem for Kiafus. Something that concerned samurai and solos, not desk jockeys. And while violence was ever-present in Night City, Kiafus' main philosophy in life was to avoid it at all costs. That way only lay trouble.

*BOOM!*

He was a simple man. Commute. Clock in. Paperwork and bureaucracy galore. Clock out. And then drink until he passed out after work. Nothing more. He didn't need anything else. It was a routine and Kiafus liked his routine.

Now, his routine had been shattered. And Kiafus didn't quite know how to feel. Terrified. Mostly terrified, he decided. Almost wholly terrified, in fact. His world seemed to be coming down around him, and Kiafus would freely admit to panicking.

Alarms had gone out to all of Arasaka Tower. And not a moment too soon. Immediately after they first rang, the Tower's orbital shields had bloomed to life. Kiafus thanked everything he knew — holy and unholy — for them. But then, the siege began in truth and Kiafus' terror only mounted.

Every Arasaka employee had a weapon shoved into their hands. They weren't explicitly drafted, but the message was clear. 'Fight or die with the corp'. Kiafus didn't consider himself a pacifist, per se… It was more accurately put that he never even wanted to be in a position where he had to choose between fight or flight. If he never was, his simple life could continue.

With Militech's siege of Arasaka Tower, the choice was made for him. 'Flight' was no longer an option. There was only the 'fight' now. So even if his hands shook, Kiafus did take up the blaster he was given. Paradoxically, it became the lifeline for his simple life. He couldn't have a simple living if he was no longer living, after all…

*BOOM-KKSH!*

Outside, actual fraggin' siege weapons pounded on the Tower's defenses. Tanks and shield busters and even something that looked like a massively scaled-up battering ram Kiafus could see. Militech was pulling out every single stop they had. They would get into the Tower, and they would do their very best to eliminate their primary competition once and for all.

Elsewhere around the Tower, the skirmishes had already begun, Kiafus knew. Competent and actually trained Arasaka forces were fighting for their lives. Arasaka samurai, mercenaries, and security forces waged war against their Militech counterparts. If they were winning or not, Kiafus wasn't privy to that information.

Instead, he and his fellow desk jockeys were tasked with internal defense. Kiafus gladly took that to mean hiding and shooting anyone and everyone who walked by him. The waiting was easily the worst part. Constant heart-pounding terror that wouldn't let him rest. It was all he could do to simply fraggin' breathe.

When his time came, he heard the fighting before he saw it. The Tower had almost certainly been breached in multiple places. It was just Kiafus' luck that some of the Militech attackers managed to make it past the frontlines and into his area.

His colleagues ran past his hiding place. Tomi from Marketing. Giselle from HR. Patt from Accounting. Gurgen from Product Testing — fuck he actually kinda like that weirdo…

Kiafus bravely…! Hid. He hid like a coward. Blaster bolts streaked past his colleagues as they ran. They desperately shot back over their shoulders, never stopping for a moment. And Kiafus held his breath.

The Militech mercenaries came next. Each was tall and imposing, dressed in all black, and stomping almost casually as they gave chase. One, two, three, four… Kiafus counted them as they passed his hiding spot. Once he heard no more coming, he managed to mount his terror and ride it into battle like a beast of war.

Kiafus stood and stepped out behind the Militech mercenaries. For the briefest of moments, he stumbled and faltered. Then, an unnatural calm came over him. His hand stopped shaking as he leveled his blaster against the enemies of his simple life. With quick, steady squeezes of his finger, he let loose blaster bolts into the backs of their heads.

Holes were scorched into the backs of helmets, right over the Militech logos painted onto them. The mercenaries collapsed like puppets with their strings cut… and Kiafus had killed for the first time. For the first four times, actually. That fact played over and over in his head but he just felt numb to it.

Then, that unnatural calm that came over him forced him to duck. A stray blaster bolt flew over his head. He glared at the source. Tomi at least had the decency to look guilty and apologize.

"Sorry, Kiafus! I thought you were another one of them for a second!"

The others rallied quickly, "Kiafus!"

"Thank the Stars!"

"Brilliant ambush! You saved us!"

Kiafus just stared back at them, nodding slowly, "I… did…? Oh. I suppose I did."

Patt from Accounting stepped forward, "Can we follow you? We're going to need smarts like that to survive this mess."

Kiafus blinked, "Follow… me…?"

"Good man!" Patt clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll do just that! With your leadership, I'm sure we'll be well off!"

… Huh? Kiafus couldn't even find his voice to refuse. Suddenly, he found himself with… a defense squad…? His colleagues were looking to him to lead them. And all Kiafus could do was wing it.

"Here," Gurgen said, unceremoniously shoving something into Kiafus' hands. "You'll probably use this thing better than me, sir."

"Sir…?" Kiafus looked at the weapon he now held courtesy of the damn weirdo from Product Testing. "Gurgen. Is this a chainsaw?"

"And a sword. It works. Trust me. I liberated a few things from the testing ranges when the siege started."

"Dare I ask what you took for yourself?"

"It had some experimental name. MX-2-something-something. I just call it a 'Melta'."

"Is that name… appropriate?"

"Appropriate enough that I didn't feel comfortable using it when the others were running behind me."

"Ah. I see. Good man, I suppose."

"Thank you, sir."

From there, they got right back 'on task'. Internal defense. Kiafus set ambush after ambush, not wanting to admit that it was the only way he felt comfortable fighting the armored Militech mercs. But… they worked and kept working. Soon enough, his colleagues were following his every 'command' like gospel. And the number of people following him only grew and grew.

The 'Chain-sword' Gurgen had given Kiafus turned out to be worryingly, messily effective. And the less said about Gurgen's Melta, the better. Steadily, they cleared the whole floor of its attackers. Then, miraculously, they began to push the Militech forces back through the breach they came.

Kiafus… had no idea what he was doing. But whatever it was, it was working. And his colleagues-turned-militia were loving it. Hours and hours, the 'internal defense' went on. Kiafus grew steadily better at the whole 'violence business' but his confidence never rose to match. All throughout the day-long siege, he was terrified and simply winging it.

Eventually, a chant was taken up by his 'soldiers'… "Kia-Kia-Kiafus Kayne, Hero of the Corpora~tion~!"

And Kiafus could feel his simple life slipping away with each round of the chant. Beneath his forced, 'winning' smile, the 'Hero of the Corporation' wept.

IIIII

— Atom —

"BE… NOT AFRAID…"

The words echoed through one layer of reality to the next and back again. In the room with us, they were two-toned, brimming with power. They were heard all across Night City. In the minds of Gonk after Gonk, they resonated.

But they weren't spoken by a biblically accurate angel. Instead, they came from the lips of an elven goth goddess. Fay spoke her will and advice directly into minds kilometers apart. The distance was no issue to her. Likewise, she wasn't fazed by speaking to thousands at once. Battle Meditation was one Hell of a power…

"A team of Hutt mercenaries are coming at you from your north, Ms. Yara."

"There is an ambush ahead if you maintain your course, Mr. Lyon."

"Duck, Mr. Tai!"

"Careful, Mrs. Sanya. The enemies you face now are slaves, forced to fight against their will… I would ask you to be as gentle as you can with them. Please…"

Her focus seemed to be everywhere, all at once. She was the Eye, not in the Sky, but in the Force. Vital information was passed on as a matter of course. With Fay's Battle Meditation, we barely even needed actual comms.

As the hours drew on and on, she didn't falter once. She was always there with a bit of strategic advice or paydata that saved lives. The battle throughout Night City raged, and Fay meditated over it all. Gonks of all stripes and colors came to owe their survival to her.

Calls came back to us from all over the city, all essentially summing up to: "Tell that spooky lady in the back of my head that I owe her a drink!"

Fay must've earned herself a few thousand drinks by now…

From the start, we saw progress. The Hutts had numbers. Mindless fodder, essentially. We had quality on our side. And not just from our Gonks. Nearly everyone who could take up arms did so to defend their city from invasion. And in a city like this one… Well, it was easier to count the noncombatants than the combatants.

The Clans' forces faced heavy resistance at every turn. Though they flooded into the Limits, the Nomad defenses there pushed back hard. Those who made it past the Limits met the rest of Night City firsthand. Even when Hutt forces started to bubble up from tunnels into the undercity, they were met by Gangs and Ganks, our Gonks and gonks from the rest of the city.

The Clan invasion of Night City turned out to be a uniting factor. No one liked outsiders bullying their way where they didn't belong. Rival gangs came together to resist. Fixers arranged hit-and-runs for the solos they usually worked with. Freelance netrunners ensured the Clans had to work for Every. Single. Communication they sent or received. And the Gonk Cartel led the fight from the front.

"Drop it, Shank!" Maine scolded our Gank leader like a puppy. "I need a concentration of blasters pointed at the breach in Heywood, not you to get carried away with your teeth sunk into mercs that are already as good as dead!"

Shank growled back over the comm but accepted his new orders, "Grr… Fine. I will lead the hunting packs personally."

"And me, Maine?" Coyate asked.

"Keep doing what you're doing, my man," Maine relaxed when dealing with our much more reasonable ground commander. "Intel says they'll be striking at Watson hard in a few minutes. I want you in place to stop that shit in its tracks. K'oyacyi, you beautiful bastard!"

"… K'oyacyi, Ner vod," Coyate replied. "I will stay alive and come back safely, my friend."

At the top of Arasaka Tower, our command center shined like a beacon. Unbeaten and unbreached so far. The Gonks weren't the only ones coordinating from on high. Saburo, V, Isla, and Smasher were doing exactly the same. All of their eyes were flashing with chrome lights, comms flying back and forth in the AR of their cyberdecks.

"Breaches on levels 40, 101, and 2, Emperor," Isla reported.

"No, the level 40 breach has been pushed back," V corrected. "… Hero of the Corporation? What the fuck? Seems handled enough, though."

"Lock 101 down completely," Saburo ordered. "Kiichi will take care of them at his leisure."

"JUST FUCKIN' GAS 'EM," Smasher grunted.

"… Kiichi will take care of them at his leisure, with environmental suits," Saburo tweaked his order.

"And level 2, sir?" Isla asked.

"The Koi and Kappa Cohorts will push it back and secure the floor," Saburo decided. "Weapons free, of course. Anything at our disposal, we shall use."

"IF MILITECH HAS ANY BRAIN CELLS AT ALL, THEY'LL START GOING FOR THE NEGATIVE LEVELS," Smasher advised.

"Where the experimental labs reside?" Saburo quirked an amused eyebrow. "Let them try."

"TRUE," Smasher grunted. "R&D ARE SOME FIESTY FUCKERS."

"Language, Smasher," Even now, Saburo gently chided the Chrome Rancor's remains.

From above, we could see the whole siege as it played out. Militech threw everything they had left at Arasaka Tower. They were gambling it all, knowing their days were numbered no matter what. Their only way out was with a victory, even a pyrrhic one. And while the Clans might have a seemingly infinite supply of fodder to throw at their problems, Militech didn't.

Already, they were taking heavy losses in their active siege of Arasaka Tower. Starving the Tower out with a traditional siege was a pipe dream. So they brought every vehicle they could muster and simply pounded on Arasaka's defenses until something gave.

Portions of the Tower were crumbling under the constant, hours-long assault. Emplaced shields — of the non-orbital variety — flickered on and off to weather the damage. Up-charged plasma bolts, solid shells, and even pure kinetic energy on the back of a massive battering ram banged and banged on Arasaka's proverbial door.

The 'front' of the Tower held. Triple-layered shields kept the defense steady there. When one was overwhelmed, the others took its place, rotating the damage for chances to recharge. But it was impossible to fortify everywhere so thoroughly. Cracks and breaches were showing under the pounding siege.

But breaching fortifications was just the beginning of Militech's struggle. Once they did, Arasaka personnel fought back with a vengeance. Samurai and solos slaughtered the attacking Militech mercenaries when they tried to press their advantage. The defensive upper hand — actual competent defense — was hard to overcome.

The scene at the top of the Tower was only a bit less intense than the siege below. Militech needed to smash the beacon we'd put up. They wanted me. They wanted Saburo. And they wanted to disrupt the rather effective command and coordination they were smashing their heads against.

They weren't having much luck. Even less than the futile progress they were making below. Saburo's view deck was a fortress. Doubly so when the rest of us were manning the ramparts. The orbital shields were concentrated up here, making pure bombardment impossible. The only way for them to crack our defensive shell was to do so the brutally old-fashioned way.

And when they tried… Well, we had a rimbo set out to greet them.

"GET SOME, GET SOME, GET SOME!" Becca shouted and cackled at the top of her little lungs.

There was a balcony — more of a 'floating' pavilion, complete with a courtyard and statues because corpos would do as corpos did — directly attached to Saburo's view deck. We set up defensive positions there and guarded the way into the rest of the view deck judiciously with the aid of the Arasaka samurai (which turned out to be rather unnecessary when we had Becca…).

When Militech and the Clans tried to land elite infiltration teams, Becca welcomed them with plasma. So. Much. Plasma. The whole courtyard in the clouds was scorched black and painted red…

The Clans' teams took the brunt of Becca's fury. 'Elite', my ass. They were just barely better than the usual Clan fodder. That, or their commanders didn't care one whit for their lives. It was the definition of insanity (or, I suppose, a callously intelligent exfiltration plan by a disgruntled Clan lieutenant…). Whatever the reason, the result was transport after transport — and the teams they tried to drop off — being torn to shreds by Becca's mini-portable mini-gun.

The Militech teams were better. They saw the results their allies got and stayed back, simply circling the tip of the Tower in their transports and gunships. But even that didn't save them when I reached out with the Force and pulled. The first time I did that, two Militech transports jolted toward each other uncontrollably, collided, and went down in impressive, spiraling flames.

"Holy Sith…" Aayla had muttered in shock.

David had turned to me with eager eyes, "We can do that, choom?!"

"Us? Not easily," Quinlan denied. "Atom and Master Fay? Well, you just saw the proof for yourself."

The circling transports and gunships pulled back even more after that. A tense sort of standoff settled there at the top of the moon for a while. Until a luxury speeder skiff and its escorts flew up, that is. Two Hutts rode in the open-topped vehicle. Temptingly undefended…

"Who wants that shot?" I asked.

"Me!/Me~!/Me," David, Becca, and Dorio all volunteered.

"Hmm. Becca, you've had your share of fun," I decided, asking David and Dorio. "You two think you can split that shit evenly?"

They exchanged glances, and Dorio shrugged, "Two Hutts, right? I don't see why not."

A moment later, they were both lining up long-range shots and letting loose. Dorio hit hers like a sharpshooter, striking the right Hutt right in its fat head. David's went just a hair wide, only grazing the left Hutt. Still, both Hutts survived, the unreasonably sturdy species that they were. At the very least, they were properly pissed off, though.

We braced for another futile landing attempt, Becca grinning her usual eager rimbo grin. But the Militech teams were seemingly forced to join this one. And they changed the rules of the game. Damn competent enemies…

The Clan transports swooped in on the balcony as they'd been doing for hours now. When Becca had clearly turned her heavy iron on them, the Militech transports came in behind. But they didn't land immediately. Instead, the cabin doors opened and from half a dozen transports, a veritable hail of grenades was thrown toward our defenses.

"Shields!" I called out.

Aayla, Quinlan, and David were quick on the draw. Force shields shimmered just out of clear view. Even with them, we ducked behind our fortifications, though. No use tempting fate. We weren't pushed directly out of our position, but the grenades offered enough distraction for the attackers to land and dismount.

Suddenly, we were sharing the 'balcony' with nearly ten times our number. Just as suddenly, a tactical withdrawal seemed like a terrific idea. I gave one great Force Push at the enemy, flinging more than a few right off the edge, and directed everyone back through the doors.

"Want me to jam it?" Lucy asked as we all stepped back into the view deck proper again.

I shrugged, "Sure, why not? Buys us a few seconds, at least. And it makes for a nice chokepoint for the rest of the killing."

"Having fun, choom?" V called over to me from the makeshift command center.

"So much fun," I deadpanned back. "You want in on this? Might just be the final assault."

"Oh, I'm just tickled pink that you would ask!" V grinned. "So kind, so polite. I would love to get in on the action~…"

"GRR…"

I rolled my eyes at that, "Oh, get your stupid fat head over here, Smasher."

With a pull, the disembodied head of Arasaka's Chrome Rancor flew through the air, straight to me. I slapped him on my belt and he seemed happy with that.

"… WHAT'D I MISS?"

"Just Becca tearing all the fodder to shreds. Not much more to it, neh?" Lucy smirked.

"GOOD SHIT, PIPSQUEAK."

"Smasher praise score~!"

Through the reinforced transparisteel doors out onto the balcony, we saw the Militech and Clan teams gathering. It made for… an odd standoff. There was respect and regret from the Militech goons. And the Clan fighters that had survived so far looked like they wanted to be anywhere else. Strangely, the lieutenants I expected from them were nowhere in sight. I could only guess that they'd already made their escapes, knowing a sinking ship when they were on one.

The twin Hutts slithered up to the doors, glaring through them at us. One had a still-smoking hole in the side of its head. The other was no less furious. They began to rant dramatically. I just cocked a hand to my ear, unable to hear a thing through the reinforced doors.

That seemed to piss them off even more. Orders were barked and a strange sight came forward at their commands. Three sapients of different species — a Twi'lek woman, a Nikto man, and a Human man. All three of them were chained from waist to chin and led by long sticks connected to collars around their necks.

The sight of them in the Force made me, David, and the Jedi Knights go instantly stiff. Snapping, slavering, shattered presences, each quite literally frothing at the mouth with mindless, malicious madness. The evidence of kyber-spice bullshit was clear. And fucking worrying…

"Now…?" Aayla asked no one in utter horror. "Truly? Now? They would bring such abominations to war?!"

"Force, it's worse than you said, Atom," Quinlan muttered.

David just shook his head, "That shit right there… That ain't right, choom. Ain't right at all."

"What are those… things…?" Lucy's voice dropped to a hiss when she referred to the chained-up Wounds in the Force.

"Force Fucking Tweakers," I scowled.

Sasha shuddered, "And they look way worse off than the one Atom already flatlined."

"Feel fraggin' icky just lookin' at 'em," Becca commented. "Looks like they need a good bit of plasma purgin'."

"To say the fucking least," I grunted.

"Sister I have never met…" Aayla intoned somberly, staring dead at the foam-mouthed Twi'lek woman. "I shall give you peace."

"I've got ol' Leatherface," David chimed.

"Guess that leaves the boring Human fucker to me," I muttered, flexing my fingers into fists until my knuckles cracked.

"So what?" V asked, dragging Isla along with her as she came over to stand with us. "The rest of us playin' support?"

"The usual violence will still work against those monsters," I hesitated. "Probably, at least…"

"IF IT DOESN'T, YOU AIN'T USING ENOUGH OF IT," Smasher wisely advised.

Seeing even the Jedi on edge had a very real effect on the tension in the room. The crew and V were tense but ready. Eager, in a way. Isla and her samurai were… Well, they looked like they'd shoot anything that so much as startled them. For now, no one could do anything but watch, though.

The twin Hutts turned to their more traditional forces, snapping to get them into fighting shape. If we were tense, they looked like they were about to throw themselves over the edge to oblivion below. It'd be kinder than the Force Tweaker bullshit, I was sure. Their mere broken presences were already eating away at the Force here at the top of the moon.

None of our enemies ended up taking the easy way out, but Militech noticeably backed way the fuck up. The 'elite' Clan soldiers didn't have that luxury. Dressed in mismatched armor, they were forced to stand right beside their twin Hutts and the three walking Wounds.

Finally, the order was given. The containing chains dropped away. The makeshift handlers fled. And the Force Tweaking Berserkers moved to enact their mindless madness.

They lashed out at the first things they could reach. Those 'first things' turned out to be the proud, proud Hutts who arrogantly thought to harness abominable 'Anti-Force' to their own ends. It was a flash of movement, a surge of Force that shouldn't be. Between one instant and the next, the twin Hutts were struck by their berserk weapons.

The Hutts were smushed. Snapping jaws and clawing hand motions. Then, the twins were no more. Force was applied from every side. The resilient Hutt bodies were pulped and pulverized. Like apples in a hydraulic press. Only, it happened in a snap and there was no build-up. One moment, there were Hutts. The next… there weren't even puddles that remained.

I felt the twin presences in the Force get sucked in to feed the ever-hungry infestation at the Force Tweakers' cores. They'd get no eternity. Not even oblivion as they were consumed, soul and spirit.

The Twi'lek and Nikto surged forward, rushing at the sealed door and us behind it. The Human went the opposite direction… straight into the mass of Militech mercs. They began to die in droves, falling to Anti-Force claws, Anti-Force jaws, and a proverbial Anti-Force chainsaw. They were ripped in twain, torn apart, smashed to nothingness, and even sucked dry as if with a straw.

A great crash of Anti-Force signaled the other two Force Tweakers' entrance. Quick as whips and ten times as vicious, they came at us. They focused on our Force Sensitives, undoubtedly seeing feasts for the ages. Aayla and Quinlan engaged the Twi'lek woman. David blurred away from the Nikto man's lunge and drew him along into a chase.

Against the Twi'lek, lightsabers hummed into being. But she was pure, berserk, brute Force. Each of her fingers became weapons coated in her 'Anti-Force', able to stand up against the lightsaber strikes. Aayla and Quinlan found themselves in the duel of their lives. Only, instead of other blades, they were forced to adapt to claws that could match a Krayt Dragon, bestial instincts, and corrupted Anti-Force Powers.

For every parry, the Twi'lek gouged out twice or more. She moved with constant, jerking Force Speed and the Jedi Knights were hard-pressed to match her. She Force Pushed and Pulled instinctively, to devastating effect. Grasping Anti-Force hands clawed at their limbs, shaking them off-balance and threatening to pull the appendages straight off. And if the Twi'lek woman got close enough, she would happily snap off flesh and Force in her slavering, sharp-toothed jaws.

But Quinlan and Aayla retained their wits. They worked together as if born twins. Despite her vicious madness, the Twi'lek woman found few openings in their teamwork. Here and there, their lightsabers found purchase. Flesh and skin sizzled but instinctive Force defense from the Twi'lek woman prevented them from taking off limbs wholesale.

She showed no sign of slowing. If anything, she was spurred on faster and faster, lashing out even more viciously. But behind Quinlan and Aayla, the Will of the Force rose to assist. It wouldn't let its Wounds persist after this fight. All of us there were its champions and the Force rallied around us against the anathema.

As suddenly as the fight began, Quinlan caught the Twi'lek woman's claws on his lightsaber. He held fast and the Force held her in place. Wild, dead eyes glared at him. Wild, snapping jaws lurched and lurched forward, struggling against the hold to feast.

Aayla came from behind, stabbing her 'saber into the Force Tweaker's back. The other Twi'lek woman didn't even seem to notice, but her body resisted. Aayla's lightsaber struggled to make progress as if the Force Tweaker's skin was suddenly as strong as my Living Beskar. Aayla gathered all of her strength and weight behind the strike and plunged.

Slowly, progress was made. The lightsaber sunk and sunk into Anti-Force flesh. The Twi'lek woman jerked and jolted for what felt like minutes. The greater Force would not be denied its peace, though. Eventually, something within the woman… snapped. She went utterly still, utterly limp, and fell as dead weight. The Force itself breathed a sigh of relief. One of three to come…

The fight against the Nikto Force Tweaker went differently. David did all he could to simply… evade. He ducked, dodged, and dove away from grasping, ripping, eviscerating claws. Ol' Leatherface chased like a beast on the hunt. David didn't have a lightsaber to his name. So he had to rely on the others for offense.

Bullets snapped from V's barrel. Bolts blasted from Sasha, Lucy, Dorio, Kiwi, Gloria, Isla, and all of her samurai's blasters. And Becca let loose with heavy plasma. They all did their very best to drown the Nikto Force Tweaker in overwhelming firepower.

At first, he resisted well enough. Firepower splashed against Anti-Force defenses. But even the Force Tweakers had limits. Mindlessly focused on David as he was, the Nikto didn't even seem to notice as flesh began to evaporate right off his bones. As his body fell apart, the Nikto only hungered.

David dipped into his Sandie to keep ahead of the single-minded Nikto. He weaved his way through allied bullets and bolts with uncanny ability. The Nikto was fast. But not impossible to hit. It was only a matter of time before Becca got a good lock on him. The others whittled him down, and when Becca inevitably got her lock, she ended the fight.

She swept pure streams of heavy plasma up and down the Nikto's body. Every inch got a taste. Every inch was burned away to nothing. Head to toe, skin to bone marrow. The Nikto was vaporized until every ounce of his physical being had simply… vanished.

Yet somehow, that wasn't the end of him. When David stopped to catch his breath, a fucking Force Ghost materialized and lunged at him to begin the chase anew. David (understandably) screamed like a bitch. I would've done the same, especially since the ghost was an ugly, desecrated thing of rotting, infested 'Force flesh' and way too many things moving under the skin for comfort.

It seemed a Force Sensitive needed to land the final blow so the Force could do its part through them. Fortunately, Fay was there, stepping into the fray with firm but gentle hands of Force that held the ghost fast. From there, she was able to grant the poor, unfortunate, quite literal horror its final peace. The Force breathed its second sigh of relief.

"Ayo…?" V muttered in the aftermath. "Fuck… ALL of that."

Becca nodded along solemnly, "Word."

My fight took me away from the others with only Smasher's head on my belt for company. But I kept track of them all through the Force, feeling more in tune than ever before. The Force needed us as champions to do its battles, but the determination to see the anathema here ended was all it.

Scant few survivors remained from the Militech mercs when I reached the Human Force Tweaker. I hadn't wasted time jumping in, but he was just that fast, that vicious. He tore through the well-armored, well-trained mercs like they were mere civilians clad in paper.

"FINALLY, SOME GOOD FUCKING FOOD," Smasher rumbled from my belt.

As I sprang forth with my spear drawn and stabbing, I found his added weight at my waist easy to manage. Natural. As if he was meant to be there, providing his violent commentary. A grin grew across my face and I sunk the blade of my spear deep into the Force Tweaker's chest.

I picked him up from there, still impaled like a stuck pig, and pushed. The Force Tweaker was flung toward the edge of the floating pavilion-esque balcony, but not off. He'd barely even landed before he was lunging back at me, quite literally running on all fours.

"UGH, FREAKY FUCKER…"

From that four-legged lope, the Force Tweaker leaped like a missile. I lined him up and swung my spear like an oversized bat. Once more, the bestial man flew.

"EH, DOUBLE AT MOST. DO BETTER."

The Force Tweaker grabbed an unlucky Militech merc. He bit straight through the helmet into the poor guy's face. And then, he sucked. Something was drained straight out of the merc. Not blood, but the Living Force itself. The infested husk of the Force Tweaker gorged itself and came at me stronger as a result.

"AWH, FUCK NAH! FLATLINE THAT VAMPIRE-LOOKIN' MOTHERFUCKER QUICK NOW. I'M NOT TRYING TO WATCH A GONK GET SUCKED OFF HERE!"

… Yeah, fuck that, for real. The Force Tweaker loped at me again, blurring in motion. And I stopped playing around. He quite literally pounced with outstretched claws but the reach advantage was on my side. I used it to slam him out of the air and spear him to the floor through one arm and his chest.

He struggled and swiped at me with his free arm — likely trying to catch and suck me off, too… — but I kept my distance with the shaft of my spear. I thrust an open palm toward his face and used the Force to make actual contact. Force Push after Force Push slammed into his face.

Quickly, his snarling expression became nothing more than a bloody mess. I kept pushing. His brain began to leak out the back of his skull. I kept pushing. His struggles only grew more intense as his face was fucking flattened into the floor. I. Kept. Pushing and pushing until something finally gave.

His head was barely even mush at that point. More like blood juice with some pulp. But finally — fucking finally — he went limp. And the Force breathed its last needed sigh of relief.

I couldn't resist the visceral shudder that ran through me as I freed my spear and looked down at the formerly berserk abomination. They'd only gotten worse since the first one I killed. Something burned in my chest when I thought back to what I'd seen in the kyber-spice Force vision: the Hutt who was bloating themself with more and more of the stuff, who must've provided these berserkers, and who was likely making more right fucking now.

"Fuck," I swore to myself. "Just… fuck."

I didn't pay the surviving Militech mercs any mind as I turned back to rejoin the others. Maybe 5 out of 50 remained, but I very much doubted they'd be threats after all of that. And if they survived a Force Tweaking Berserker, they deserved the chance to flee.

"Think the siege will break now that the Hutt leaders suffered a friendly fire incident?" I asked Smasher. "I'm tired of dealing with this shit. We've got more important things to address than this braindead attack."

"THEY'LL BREAK OR WE'LL DRIVE 'EM OFF," Smasher said. "KNOWING OLD MAN SABURO, HE HASN'T STOPPED GIVING ORDERS THROUGH ALL OF THIS. I'LL BET WE DRIVE THE DESPERATE FUCKERS OFF WITHIN THE HOUR. THEN… WHAT'S YOUR NEXT MOVE, NOT-MEAT?"

"Take the fight right back to them," I declared firmly. "With Arasaka's backing and all of Night City out for blood, I think it's about time we drive the Clans the fuck off of Nar Shaddaa and take the moon for ourselves."

"FRAGGIN' PREEM. THAT JUST MEANS MORE VIOLENCE FOR ME. RIDING ALONG WITH YOU, NOT-MEAT, I HAVE A FEELING I'LL NEVER BE BORED."

IIIII

[AN: This is about where I'm going to stop this story for now. I have 2-3 more chapters in me, but they're all 'time skip-py' interlude chapters. The end of this arc plus the time skip-py chapters will be a good place to pause the story. So I'll get those out and then I'm likely going to take a bit of a break from writing. But it'll be a break in service of what I do next.

As promised, I'm returning to 'Gotham's Dead End Bar' next. But to do so, I need to reread 420k words to refamiliarize myself with the story/characters/hanging plot threads, and that'll take me a while lol. Still, I expect I'll be writing the first return chapter of that story before the month is up. Something to look forward to. And there will still be a few more chapters of KYBER-PUNK coming. As always, thanks for everything, all of you :]