The morning of his first deployment arrived with a weight Sirius could feel in his bones. The FAWS workshop—his sanctuary of tools, wires, and half-crazy laughter—was quiet for once. His corner bench was empty, cleared of clutter save for one item: the half-face Optic Helmet, polished and waiting.
Sirius stood in front of it, shoulders tense, breathing slow. His reflection shimmered faintly across the visor's curve. For years, he had been the boy behind the machines, the mad genius with grease-stained hands who never had to stare down the Hivebugs outside a monitor. Now, there would be no screen between him and the swarm.
He lifted the helmet, fitting it across his brow. The HUD flickered to life instantly. Numbers and icons bloomed: ammo counter bottom-center, minimap upper-left, thermal sweep pulsing faintly in the corner, comms channel open and clear.
> "Deployment status: confirmed," ARI's calm voice chimed in his head. "Squad assignment: Delta-7 patrol. Mission: forward recon and Hivebug suppression in Sector Twelve. Probability of engagement: 91%."
Sirius exhaled through his nose. "Figures. No warm-up, huh?"
> "You requested deployment, Sirius," ARI reminded him gently.
He smirked. "Guess I did."
---
Outside, the barracks thrummed with tension. Soldiers tightened straps, checked rifles, and adjusted their new helmets. Crates of Carbine X rifles were handed out, their micro-mags gleaming under the dim lights. Turret drones hummed as engineers loaded them onto transports.
But when Sirius entered the yard, all eyes shifted.
Whispers rose immediately.
"That's him. Renegade Blake."
"About time he got his boots dirty."
"Think he'll last five minutes out there?"
"Hell, with his toys, maybe we all will."
He ignored the stares, rolling his shoulders as he slung a Carbine X over his back. It wasn't just his design anymore—it was his weapon now.
His friends were waiting by the transport.
Stone Varga crossed his arms, giving Sirius a hard once-over. "Didn't think I'd see the day. Renegade's leaving the bench."
Sirius grinned. "Don't look so shocked, Varga. You'll make me think you actually care."
Bear Ivanov clapped him on the shoulder with a mech-sized glove, nearly knocking him forward. "About damn time, brother. Let's see if you fight half as crazy as you build."
Whisper Kade smiled faintly, adjusting the strap of her medic kit. "Stay close. If you get yourself torn open, I don't want to explain to Loras why his golden boy bled out on his first patrol."
Jinx Alvarez practically bounced on his heels, rifle spinning in his hands. "Renegade in the field? Oh, this I've got to see."
Sparks Novik pushed her visor down, muttering, "Try not to embarrass us."
Shade just gave Sirius a short nod, visor glinting, silent approval enough.
Sirius' grin widened, though his gut churned beneath the surface. "Alright then. Let's go meet our friends in Sector Twelve."
---
The transport rumbled across scarred terrain. The world outside was a graveyard of war: collapsed bunkers, scorched craters, Hivebug husks half-buried in dust. The endless war had carved the planet into a battlefield with no beginning and no end.
Sirius sat between Jinx and Whisper, helmet glowing faintly. He scrolled through data feeds, checking turret readiness and mag calibration. Anything to keep his hands busy.
Jinx nudged him. "You're quiet, Renegade. Not like you."
Sirius smirked. "What, you want me to laugh like a lunatic in a troop transport? I'll save the crazy for the bugs."
The squad chuckled, tension easing slightly. But inside, Sirius' heart drummed hard. He wasn't afraid of dying. He was afraid of failing—of proving that all his inventions meant nothing once he was out here with them.
The transport jolted to a stop. The ramp dropped with a hiss.
"Delta-7, move!" Stone barked.
---
The patrol advanced into Sector Twelve. Ruined outposts littered the canyon ahead, their walls shattered by Hivebug burrows. Steam rose from cracks in the earth where Hivebugs had erupted days earlier. The air was heavy with dust and the faint stench of ichor.
Sirius' visor flickered, the minimap pulsing as ARI synced terrain data.
> "Enemy heat signatures detected. Range: 200 meters. Estimated swarm density: medium."
"Contact incoming," Sirius muttered.
Stone raised his fist. The squad fanned out, rifles up. Bear's mech took the flank, turret drones whirred into place, and Shade perched on a ridge with his sniper.
Then the ground trembled.
Hivebugs erupted from the soil, chittering shrieks filling the air. Dozens at first, then scores. Claws gleamed, mandibles snapped, black bodies swarmed like a tide.
"Open fire!" Stone roared.
The canyon thundered with gunfire.
Sirius raised his Carbine X, fingers tightening. The ammo counter blinked 50/50. He exhaled and fired.
The rifle barked steady bursts, micro-mags feeding seamlessly. His HUD ticked down each shot. 47. 46. 45. He aimed for joints like he'd trained, blasting limbs from drones, watching them collapse instead of wasting rounds on armored shells.
His friends fought like demons around him.
Jinx darted forward, rifle blazing in short, precise bursts. "Move, Renegade! Don't just stand there and admire your toy!"
Bear's mech unleashed a storm of fire, shaking the canyon walls. "Stone, right flank!"
Stone's squad hammered the swarm with disciplined volleys, their helmets keeping their ammo tight and their focus on weak points.
Whisper dragged a wounded soldier behind cover, visor flashing with vitals as she patched him mid-fight.
Shade's rifle cracked, each shot finding a Hivebug eye with surgical precision.
Sirius laughed, wild and sharp. The sound startled even himself. "HAHA! Come on then! Let's see if you like my storm!"
---
But the swarm thickened. Larger drones pushed through, armored carapaces deflecting shots. Soldiers cursed as ammo drained. Even with the helmets, the swarm threatened to overwhelm.
> "Warning," ARI whispered. "Swarm density increasing. Suggest turret deployment synchronization."
Sirius slapped a drone command, turret feeds aligning through his HUD. Automated guns pivoted, stitching fire across choke points. The Hivebugs stumbled, shredded before they could flank.
Still, a massive drone broke through, slamming a soldier to the ground. Sirius turned, instincts flaring. His mag clicked empty. The rifle auto-ejected.
For a heartbeat, panic threatened.
Then training took over. He slammed in a new mag, counter flashing 50/50, and fired point-blank into the drone's joint until it collapsed.
His chest heaved. He'd survived his first close encounter.
Whisper's voice cut through the comms. "Blake, you alright?"
He smirked, breathless. "Better than the bug."
---
The battle raged for an hour, but slowly, surely, Delta-7 pushed forward. The helmets kept ammo tight, the Carbine X rifles never faltered, and the turrets locked every choke point.
When the last Hivebug fell, the canyon was carpeted with ichor and shattered carapaces. Smoke curled from barrels, soldiers panted, but they were alive.
Stone pulled his helmet off, sweat streaming down his scarred face. He stared at Sirius, then smirked faintly. "Not bad, Renegade. Not bad at all."
Bear's mech crouched low, pilot's voice crackling. "You fought like you built—loud, reckless, and impossible to ignore."
Whisper touched his shoulder. "First deployment. First kill. You're one of us now, Sirius."
Sirius lowered his rifle, grinning wide despite the ichor splattered across his armor. "Guess I finally graduated from the bench."
---
Later, back at base, reports flew across High Command. Casualties were minimal, ammo efficiency spiked, and morale was surging. The Optic Helmet and Carbine X weren't just tools anymore—they were survival, living proof that humanity could fight back.
And at the center of every report, every whisper, every laugh in the barracks, was one name.
Renegade Blake.
He had survived his first deployment.
And the Hivebugs would never forget it.