War Never Changes

"HAVE YOU NO RESPECT FOR THE RULES!?"

"What'd you want me to do? Let his groupies gang up on me? What happened to self-defense?"

The Overseer glares furiously at me, though it's obvious that my words have weight to them.

He sighs.

"Because of your exemplary record and previous good behavior, we'll let this one slide. Water under the fucking bridge. Alright, listen up. Because you've done so well, better than anyone else in the history of this boot camp, you'll be recommended into the real shit."

He grabs a tablet from the table and swipes through it.

"You'll be sent to Camp Raney... for Spec Ops."

"Spec Ops?"

He puts the tablet down and looks me directly in the eyes.

"Yeah, Spec Ops. Camp Raney is top secret, only known to a select few Recruiters and Overseers like us. You deserve to be recognized."

"Tch, recognized? If I wanted to be recognized I'd head back to NC and blow up Arasaka Tower."

He chuckles a bit.

"Blowing up Arasaka? Hah, you're 30 years too late for that kid! Johnny Silverhand has been there, done that."

"Yeah, I know. Grew up hearing about all of those legends."

"Legends my ass, they were all just criminals and terrorists. NC native right? I wonder what side you'll pick when NC finally decides to split from NUSA?"

"Don't know... But hey, I'm just a soldier. I just follow orders and shoot the shit."

"Damn right... Anyway, pack your bags. A carrier will be here to take you in six."

"Sir, yes Sir..."

"Get out... and lose that attitude of yours."

"Can't, I'm from Night City, remember?" As I say as I walk out the door.

***

As I'm packing my bags, a friend taps me on the shoulder.

"Hey, Van. Heard you've been promoted already! Fastest promotion in Militech history no less! Can't believe how young you are!"

"Haha, relax Carlos. A little birdie told me you were being promoted too. To R&D?"

"That's right Van! Can finally get away from these dumb fucks! Except you, of course, Van. You're the only other sensible person here! The rest of these gonks are all snobby rich fucks, or taking steroids!"

"Yeah, won't be missing this place..."

"Here, Van. I made something that I wanted to give you."

He gave me a data chip, the ones that slot into your Neural Ports.

"What's on it?"

"My legacy, Van! It's an AI that'll let you see the future!"

"So....?"

"It'll calculate the next move of the gonk you're looking at! If they're about to throw a punch at you, this handy thing will connect to your optics and show you its planned trajectory! And the best part? It's adaptive! It'll store all previous and new data and be able to calculate anything! AND...."

"Woah, Woah. I get it, I get it. But, you sure you're giving it to me just like that?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I give the next Adam Smasher an extra edge!"

"Next Adam Smasher? Like I'll ever be a full-on cyborg like him. Plus, don't feel like selling myself to Arasaka either."

"Right..."

Carlos looks down a the floor and puts a hand on his chin. He's thinking about something. Something I'll never be able to guess in a million years. He's smart enough to really make a name for himself, though I hope he stays away from trouble. Had to save his ass a few times already.

I look around the barracks and find that it's empty. The rest of these guys should be out on the field. Wonder how those rich snobs feel about getting all dirty in the mud, outside those Simulations.

"Look, Carlos. I gotta Delta. Got a flight to catch."

He looks up and smiles.

"Of course Van. Sorry for the holdup."

We shake hands and hug it out.

"I'll miss you, brother."

"Same here choom."

***

The flight was boring. Nothing else to say to that. No one else in that carrier but me. Though I did take a look a the shard Carlos gave me.

When I first joined Militech. The recruiter made me see the resident Ripperdoc and put in my sockets a few years early. Malpractice? Maybe a little. Was seven years old when I joined up and had my first chrome put in. Nine years early to be exact. Barely reaching puberty even. In most cases. Kids with chrome have to deal with growth complications. Puberty could fuck up Brainware and growing appendages need upgrades every year to adapt to the right size. So the Ripperdoc thought I would die in a few years once my hormones change and fuck up my synapses. Turns out, I'm pretty good with chrome. One of the tolerant few. I've been in that boot camp for a month and had no issues so far. Crazy how Militech needed more soldiers so they started enlisting kids. There were requirements, obviously. Can't just take a kid off the street whose never shot a gun before. Let alone kill someone.

I slide the chip into one of my sockets. My eyes light up with a gentle blue hue and a loading bar fills my vision.

20% ~ 47% ~ 89% ~ 100%

[DATA LOADED - OPTO-TRACE ENABLED]

[READING PRESET DATABASE]

[COMPLETE]

[SCANNING MEMORIES]

[COMPLETE]

[ADJUSTING TRAJECTORY PARAMETERS]

[COMPLETE]

[SETUP COMPLETE - OPTOTRACE NOW ACTIVE]

[PLEASE REMOVE MODWARE]

Huh, nice work Carlos. Guess this thing will activate once some dumb fuck tries something.

I push the chip and it pops out. I grab it and slide it into my pocket.

Looks like the chip is dried up now that I got the AI installed. I won't throw away a perfectly good chip now, will I?

I look out the window and see the empty desert below. Nothing new in the American Wastes.

I close my eyes and see myself at war. A rifle in hand, my brothers-in-arms beside me, rushing through the desert dodging bullets left and right. Explosions going off all around us, with the dust and sand getting into my eyes. I can taste my thirst, as the sun's unforgiving heat drains all of us. There's sweat dripping down my forehead. My head snug under my helmet.

I see fire.

I see death.

I see war.

War Never Changes.