The echo of battle reports still lingered in the minds of the FAWS unit as they filed back into their department. The frontline had stabilized, thanks to the newly deployed systems, but everyone knew the Hivebugs would regroup. For now, however, there was a sense of relief—a small victory carved out of endless war.
Sirius stepped back into the familiar calibration bay. The scent of oil, heated metal, and ozone from test discharges filled the air, grounding him after the tense days at HQ. Around him, fellow FAWS personnel exchanged tired but relieved looks. They had proven themselves, and more importantly, they had proven that their work was indispensable.
Technicians resumed their benches, scribbling notes, sketching out refinements, and double-checking systems. Some joked lightly to release the pressure, others sat in silence, lost in thought. Sirius quietly returned to his workstation, where scattered scraps of circuitry and turret parts still lay from his earlier experiments. ARI flickered into his vision, a soft glow at the corner of his mind.
> "Welcome back to your domain, Sirius. The data collected during the deployment has been archived. Efficiency ratings show a consistent improvement across all modified systems," ARI said, her voice even and calm.
Sirius smirked, running a hand over the smooth surface of a half-built calibration rig. "Good. That means we're on the right track."
Head of FAWS, Chief Engineer Loras, entered the bay and clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention.
"You've all done well. The commanders are impressed, and the troops are alive because of your work. That's no small thing. But don't get comfortable—we'll be refining these systems for weeks. The Hivebugs won't stop, and neither will we."
His eyes lingered on Sirius for a moment. "Blake, your initiative at HQ didn't go unnoticed. Keep pushing boundaries. We'll need it."
Sirius gave a respectful nod. "Understood, sir."
For a moment, the room stayed quiet, filled with the weight of exhaustion. Sirius, however, wasn't one to let the mood sink too deep. He hopped up from his workstation, clapped his hands together, and let a wide grin stretch across his face.
"Come on, everyone! We've earned a little cheer, haven't we? How about we celebrate surviving another day of this bug-infested nightmare?" His voice carried across the room, breaking the silence like a hammer striking steel.
Some of the FAWS glanced at him with tired eyes, but when Sirius threw both arms in the air and shouted, "Drinks on me—well, after the chief says yes!" laughter erupted.
Sirius turned toward Chief Loras with a playful salute. "Sir, permission to suggest a temporary morale operation? I say we loosen up the gears with a round of drinks. Just enough to shake off the stress before we get back to the grind."
Loras rubbed his temple, half-amused, half-exasperated. "You really don't know when to quit, do you, Blake?" He let the silence hang just long enough for tension to build. Then he smirked. "Fine. One night. But tomorrow, you're all back here sharp. No excuses."
The bay erupted into cheers. Some of the FAWS personnel hugged each other, a few laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks. Others simply exhaled the heavy burden they had been carrying, relief washing over their faces.
One young technician clapped Sirius on the back. "Damn it, Blake, you're always the one who knows how to lighten things up."
Another, voice trembling with emotion, muttered, "We thought we'd never make it back… and here we are."
Sirius grinned, patting both of them on the shoulder. "That's because we're too stubborn to die. And besides, if I go down, who's going to keep your rifles from jamming, huh?"
Laughter broke out again. For a brief moment, the horrors of the war and the endless Hivebug assaults melted away. They were just people—soldiers, technicians, and friends—clinging to their humanity in the middle of a war that seemed determined to strip it away.
While the others celebrated, Sirius leaned back against his bench, letting the laughter wash over him. ARI's soft voice whispered in his mind.
> "You've lifted their morale significantly. This is as vital as any turret you've built. Soldiers who feel hope will fight harder and live longer."
Sirius smiled faintly, eyes flicking to the glowing interface only he could see. "Maybe so. But don't tell anyone I'm soft, alright? Let's keep the myth that I only care about weapons."
> "Understood. Secret preserved."
The celebration stretched long into the night, with FAWS personnel sharing stories, venting frustrations, and even singing old military songs off-key. By the time they finally quieted down, the tension in their shoulders had eased, replaced with determination.
Sirius, cheerful as always, raised a final toast. "To us—the ones who keep the guns firing, the armor holding, and the soldiers alive. Without FAWS, the war doesn't happen. Remember that."
Glasses clinked. Cheers erupted again.
Tomorrow, the work would resume, and the Hivebugs would return. But tonight, for the first time in months, the FAWS department laughed. And Sirius Blake—Renegade—was the reason why.