MoorE Tech, a multinational corporation that prefers using biological solutions for human enhancent, often provides integrated augntation packages for custors—replacing bones, muscles, tissue cells, and even blood components.
Their core business extends further, with significant influence in fields like nanodicine and advanced biomaterials. Almost all high-end bio-material-related industries rely on them.
At MoorE Tech's office building in Night City, a heavy truck was being loaded. These items ca from all over the city, ranging from dical equipnt used by the wealthy for personal maintenance to devices for their pets, as well as equipnt from high-tech labs nearing the end of their usage.
Authorized equipnt being written off was sent to a departnt responsible for inspection and software processing inside the building. Once verified, the initial scrapping process began—wiping the device's software and partially disassembling its structure.
Components that posed a biological hazard and required chanical scrapping were sent to landfills for further processing.
To maintain the company's monopoly and protect its patents, ard corporate security oversaw every step of this write-off process, reflecting how seriously the company guarded its technological knowledge—since that was the foundation of their power.
Who would want to let the technology they worked so hard to develop flow freely into the world?
Bang.
The last crate was loaded, and three heavily modified Kaukaz Bratsk trucks roared to life, black smoke billowing from their engines before slowly thinning as they began to move.
These heavy trucks, originally made in the Russian Federation, had been battle-tested and were modified from military transport vehicles to specialized scrap carriers.
Though unassuming in appearance, their transport capacity was impressive, and their security was top-notch. Even if attacked by bandits, it would be nearly impossible for netrunners to open the cargo compartnts.
The only option for a direct assault would be sothing like a battering ram, but that would scatter the already scrapped machines into even smaller pieces.
Who would bother robbing a bunch of scrap parts?
Four armored Ragnar vehicles with "Arasaka Security" markings flanked the convoy, which headed east toward Night City.
A "Respectful Logistics" vehicle passed by, and inside, Maine relayed a ssage over the comms:
"Bigwigs on the move. Road conditions are good today—everything's normal."
In the Badlands.
"Everything's normal. The target is on the move."
Dust filled the sky, and from a distance, nothing seed out of the ordinary.
But a more thorough drone sweep would reveal eight Nomad cars lying in wait on the stretch of road between Petrochem and Night City, covered in desert camouflage cloth.
Drones in a ramshackle design flew low, blending into their surroundings.
This was a rare period when traffic on the roads was sparse. After a few hours, all Leo had seen from the drones buried in the sand were two Militech patrols and so corporate transport trucks.
Following a week of strict inspections and after a cyberpsycho incident, Militech had brought in the NCPD to help man checkpoints and relaxed their screening criteria—
Apart from Mackinaw trucks, any registered operational vehicle could pass through quickly.
Judging by the timing from Maine's intel, it would take about four more hours for MoorETech's convoy to arrive.
In the desert, the Nomads waited silently.
Leo took out a bottle of water, pouring so over his forehead and the back of his neck to prevent heatstroke.
He then handed the water to V in the passenger seat.
Jackie was still crouched near the Red Ocher crew, partly because the Scorpion was a two-seater, and partly to keep the Red Ocher rookies from screwing up.
V took a sip and looked at Leo. "You seem a bit tense."
Leo pointed to himself. "? What makes you think that?"
"I don't know. Even though you look the sa as usual, I can just tell you're a bit tense."
Leo stared at V with a blank expression.
V quickly shifted her gaze away.
Years of experience had taught Leo how to keep his tension hidden—but even though V couldn't explain why, she was right.
Because the NCPD permit hadn't co through yet.
Why was the damn NCPD taking so long?
MoorE Tech's trucks were about to reach the checkpoint.
Just then, Leo received a new ssage from David—it was brief:
"Permit secured. Standing by at the designated location."
Leo breathed a sigh of relief. V glanced at him, then suddenly smirked, "See, you were nervous just now!"
"I—Target spotted. Prepare for action."
Drone 1's vision showed MoorE Tech's Kaukaz Bratsk trucks passing the checkpoint, heading toward the dam.
"The escorts are Arasaka. Four Ragnar armored vehicles, 16 agents. No cyberware detected on their scans, but I see netrunners—
Mitch, mark the power structure of the Bratsk. Let's see what we can do."
"This truck... it's tricky. It's a steel beast, built to last. With just the cars we have, it's going to be hard to run it off the road."
"Any chance we can hack it?"
"Not likely. The Bratskis an old-school vehicle, with few connected components—mostly manual operation."
Problematic.
Who would've thought a scrap truck would use decommissioned military vehicles?
From Mitch's analysis, none of the Nomad cars, not even Scorpion's powerful rig, could knock it off the road.
In fact, if they tried, they'd be sacrificing their own vehicles more than damaging the truck.
Nomad vehicles were impressive, but only after multiple modifications tailored to specific environnts.
Engine power and structural strength were difficult to change.
Leo's gaze shifted from the convoy to the Arasaka escort vehicles.
"...What if we included the four Arasaka armored cars?"
"It could work, but their vehicles are nearly impossible to hack. As long as they keep driving normally, we won't have an opening."
"...Then let's make sure they don't keep driving normally. Prepare for action."
Leo began transmitting the plan to the entire Nomad carjacking team, marking the timing and assigning tasks to each mber.
As the convoy approached, the tension in the comms channel grew palpable, with heavy breathing audible from the carjacking crew.
A rough female voice broke the silence.
"Everyone, I feel… amazing! How long has it been since the Aldecaldos did sothing like this?"
It was clearly Panam. Saul's voice quickly followed: "Quiet. This is the ops channel, not a chat room."
"Are you serious? You're picking a fight now? I just wanted to say—For the Aldecaldos!"
"For the Aldecaldos!"
The Nomads' voices were filled with excitent, and this ti, even Saul didn't argue with Panam—
"Action!"
As the countdown hit zero, the Nomad cars shed their camouflage, bursting from the desert like they had appeared out of nowhere, speeding toward the road!
In the air, the drones flew quickly above the convoy.
The scene was reminiscent of the 19th century, when another group of outlaws, riding horses, pistols in hand and reins in the other, chased trains across these very sa lands.
MoorE Tech's convoy was the train.
Saul stuck his head out of the window, raising his Satara, letting out a roar with all the air in his chest, "For the Aldecaldos!"
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