The sun barely peeked over Vetra-9's horizon, casting long shadows across the FAWS HQ perimeter. The scars of the last ambush still marked the ground—burned craters, scorched plating, and the jagged edges of the collapsed wall. But now the HQ hummed with a different energy. Turrets stood at every entry point, gleaming in the morning light, barrels tracking silently in standby mode.
Sirius Blake walked the line with his utility belt hanging heavy at his hip, ARI's holographic overlays painting the air before him. Each turret displayed arcs of fire, overlapping in shimmering blue. Structural integrity ratings floated above their housings. To anyone else, it looked like a steel forest. To Sirius, it was an orchestra, and he was the conductor.
> "ARI, run full diagnostics and simulate a breach," Sirius ordered.
> "Understood. Initiating simulated Hivebug assault across all sectors."
Holographic Hivebugs shimmered into being across the perimeter, projected from ARI's tactical map. They charged in coordinated waves, mandibles clattering, claws raised.
The turrets woke instantly. Sensors tracked, barrels rotated, firing sequences engaged with deadly rhythm. Suppressive fire ripped into the holographic swarms, precision bursts dropping larger targets one by one.
Indicators flickered across Sirius' HUD—kill zones lighting up, danger zones shifting with each volley. Sparks from practice rounds struck reinforced barriers, painting the field in strobing flashes.
Sirius adjusted calmly as he moved along the line.
> "Sector Delta is half a degree wide—ARI, rotate 4.7 degrees clockwise."
> "Adjustment complete. Breach probability reduced to 0.3%," ARI confirmed.
Sirius allowed himself the faintest smile. Even in simulation, the system was airtight.
A handful of infantry had gathered to watch, murmuring quietly as the holographic Hivebugs dissolved under turret fire.
"Look at that," one soldier whispered. "He's actually making the HQ untouchable."
Another shook his head. "Without him, we'd still be digging bodies out of the breach."
From behind, a familiar voice cut through the chatter. "Careful, you'll make him blush."
Sirius glanced back to see Sparks leaning against a support beam, arms crossed, expression caught between skepticism and grudging admiration. Beside her, Whisper tended to a soldier's bandaged arm but spared a glance at the simulation.
Sparks smirked. "So what's next, Renegade? Naming the turrets? Giving them personalities?"
Sirius grinned. "Already thought about it. Lefty, Righty, and Big Mouth over there." He pointed to the largest emplacement.
Whisper actually chuckled softly, though she quickly masked it behind her medic's calm. Sparks rolled her eyes. "You're insufferable."
"And you love it," Sirius replied, ducking back to adjust a control panel.
Between simulation waves, ARI projected schematics into his vision. Frontline rifles. Heavy support cannons. Even the clunky mechanized armor the Corps still deployed.
> "Sirius," ARI said, "weapon malfunctions continue to originate from Hivebug neural interference. Probability of recurrence without shielding: seventy-one percent."
Sirius nodded, wiping grease from his fingers. "Then let's build more than walls. Let's armor the weapons themselves."
They began work on a suite of specialized systems: reinforced circuit shielding, layered micro-alloys designed to block Hivebug neural pulses; micro-stabilizers, dampening heat and recoil stress in rifles and heavy cannons alike; field-repair drones, small enough to crawl across a battlefield and recalibrate weapons mid-fight; adaptive targeting overlays, ARI-driven projections to compensate for smoke, chaos, and panicked aim.
Hours blurred as Sirius sketched, calibrated, and tested. Sparks muttered about his obsession, but she lingered longer than she admitted, occasionally handing him tools without being asked. Whisper, quieter, simply watched him work—her eyes sharp, measuring the calm precision in his movements.
By late afternoon, ARI's voice cut sharply into Sirius' focus.
> "Warning: anomalies detected in Sector Gamma. Turret accuracy reduced. Source: environmental vibrations."
Sirius frowned, jogging to the outer wall. Sure enough, the ground here was unstable, settling unevenly from recent construction. The turrets jittered microscopically, throwing off their aim.
"Not on my watch." Sirius dropped to his knees, tools flying from his belt. He bolted micro-stabilizers into the mounts, reinforced the anchor points, then recalibrated the sensors to compensate for shifting soil.
> "ARI, rerun simulation for Sector Gamma."
> "Simulation complete. Accuracy restored to 99.8%."
Sirius exhaled through his nose, satisfied. "That's more like it."
Infantry nearby watched with wide eyes. "He sees everything," one muttered.
The next wave of simulated Hivebugs dissolved into static just as Commander Varek strode onto the perimeter. His boots crunched against scorched stone, his expression unreadable. He stopped beside Sirius, eyes scanning the flawless arcs of turret fire.
"Impressive work, Blake," Varek said, his gravelly voice cutting through the quiet. "The perimeter is secure. The breach points are covered. And your shielding designs—they've prevented malfunctions before they even happen."
Sirius straightened, saluting. "Thank you, sir. Every weapon and turret should stay operational."
Varek studied him for a long moment. Then, in a tone equal parts praise and warning, he added: "High Command will want a full report. You'll be recognized for this achievement. But don't forget—every system has a flaw. Make sure yours aren't too easy to find."
Sirius held his gaze. "Understood, sir."
The commander gave a curt nod and moved on, leaving the weight of his words hanging in the air.
As the simulation ended and the holographic Hivebugs vanished, Sirius finally allowed himself a slow breath. The HQ—once breached, bloodied, and broken—now stood guarded by an unblinking wall of firepower. Soldiers could rest easier tonight.
He crouched by one of the turrets, brushing a hand across its reinforced plating. "Not bad, huh, ARI?"
> "System efficiency: ninety-six percent. Defensive readiness: one hundred percent. However—"
ARI's voice sharpened.
> "Probability Hivebugs adapt to perimeter systems within three weeks: fifty-two percent. Their neural interference patterns evolve at accelerating rates."
Sirius chuckled, though his smile was tired. "Of course they will. That's what they do." He tapped the turret with his knuckle. "And it's what I do too."
> "Acknowledged," ARI replied. "Preparing counter-adaptation scenarios."
Sirius rose, scanning the line of turrets silhouetted against the dying sun. For now, HQ was secure. For now, the soldiers could fight without fear of their weapons betraying them.
But the war didn't end. The Hivebugs would return—smarter, faster, deadlier. And when they did, Sirius Blake, Renegade, would be ready with something new.
Because innovation was his weapon. And this war was only beginning to take him seriously.