Missed chapters 1/4 Decision made, efficient execution mechanisms immediately activated.
A lean special team codenamed "Probe" was rapidly assembled within hours.
Team leader was Dr. Mara Sorenson, a woman in her forties possessing both a doctorate in cutting-edge materials science and extensive foreign technical negotiation experience—renowned for calmness, pragmatism, and skillfully grasping opponents' psychology.
Her deputy was Major Richard Ward from External Security Department, an operations expert with multiple records executing low-profile missions in sensitive zones—steady temperament, keen observation.
Core team members also included a top-tier network operations expert responsible for ensuring communications security and analyzing potential cyber traps, plus a behavioral analyst aimed at assessing contact subjects' true states and intentions through minute observations.
The team—through cross-analyzing Kwan's testimony, abnormal data streams possibly left near Strange and Winters' crime scenes uncaptured by conventional surveillance, plus deep digs into Maine's crew and their social relationships—quickly locked onto a possible indirect connection node.
They didn't choose directly heading to the wasteland—that would equal provocation—but instead attempted near a communication relay tower abandoned for years on Night City's edges, through preset physical beacons carrying specific identification signals, sending requests hoping to establish preliminary communications.
The wait wasn't long.
Morell's figure appeared at the abandoned tower's ground-level entrance. Her posture relaxed yet alert, like a cheetah patrolling familiar territory.
She wore dark-gray combat attire, outer functional long coat, hem gently swaying in breezes.
Those precisely-modified eyes surveyed "Probe" team members. Irises presented nearly-realistic ocean blue—only at specific angles could one detect deep within faint red glows.
Major Ward's breathing imperceptibly hitched.
He recognized that unique posture and center-of-gravity distribution—characteristics only possible after Militech's highest-level combat training and modifications.
But what surprised him—the figure before him seemed more... powerful than any "Switchblade" unit member in his memories.
Her movements carried coordination refined through countless trials yet contained fluidity transcending purely mechanical precision.
Dr. Mara Sorenson stepped forward, maintaining safe distances.
She displayed professional, prudent demeanor without any superfluous pleasantries, cutting straight to topics: "Ma'am, we come representing Militech. We've received and carefully analyzed messages transmitted by Mr. Elliott Kwan.
We understand your 'master' wishes avoiding unnecessary future conflict escalations."
Her wording was extremely cautious, avoiding any vocabulary potentially triggering misunderstandings: "We've noted specific list contents and preliminarily assess these demands have foundations for further discussions.
But what interests us more is exploring whether possibilities exist—transcending simple reparations and ceasefire frameworks—opening more constructive, future-oriented dialogue channels.
We believe this might mean greater value for both sides."
During statements, Dr. Sorenson, Major Ward, plus the behavioral analyst behind them—all carefully observed Morell.
Morell quietly listened, right hand unconsciously lightly touching left forearm.
Her facial expressions remained neutral, but those eyes were abnormally focused, as if weighing every word.
When Sorenson mentioned "more constructive dialogue," her brow barely perceptibly moved, seemingly producing some interest in this phrasing, but quickly returned to calm.
Dr. Sorenson finally presented core requests: "Therefore, we hope your 'master' can grant one more direct exchange opportunity.
Whether through absolutely secure high-level encrypted communications or face-to-face meetings at locations both sides can accept ensuring neutrality and safety—we're willing displaying sufficient sincerity."
Morell fell silent momentarily. Those optical lenses flickered slightly, seemingly conducting data exchanges with some distant existence.
Seconds later, she responded. Voice processed yet carrying peculiar resonance: "Message received. I'll relay it."
Her gaze lingered momentarily on Sorenson's face, supplementing: "Await replies. I'll contact you later."
Words barely dropped before she slightly nodded, then turned departing—movements crisp yet not lacking courtesy.
——
Morell transmitted complete records of "Probe" team contacts—including opponent member compositions, precise wordings, subtle tone changes, plus surrounding environment data—without omissions back to wasteland workshop depths.
During data transmission intervals, she looked down at her own palm, finger joints flexibly flexing.
This simple action reminded her of years repeatedly practicing at Militech training grounds, but at this moment driving this body was completely different power.
She lightly shook her head, excluding irrelevant thoughts.
She knew information master Cairo transmitted through her had accurately delivered, and as responses, Militech presented proposals exceeding simple compromise or fear scopes—carrying strategic probing natures.
Now, final decision-making authority rested with that existence granting her rebirth and missions.
Inside wasteland workshop's core zone illuminated by constant cold light sources, Cairo's tall dark-red figure stood before holographic control consoles.
His crimson optical lenses calmly swept across detailed reports Morell transmitted back. Beside another interface, dimensional transport device's real-time energy readings and resonance waveforms steadily jumped.
His logic core was conducting high-speed operations. Massive data streams surged, calculated, simulated within.
Militech's proposals, Biotechnica's possible retaliatory actions, maintaining status quo's potential risks, opening contacts' possible gains and uncertainties...
All these variables transformed into cold parameters, input into his decision models based on efficiency and objective priorities.
To him, whether choosing responding to Biotechnica provocations with more violent counterattacks—thoroughly hurting opponents making them not dare rash actions—or accepting Militech probes, opening transaction games with mutual ulterior motives, were merely different pathways and strategic tools reaching ultimate core objectives.
Emotionalized revenge, power cravings, or provoked anger—these complex human motivations were highly simplified and marginalized in his cognitive systems.
Which pathway at current time nodes could more efficiently obtain needed resources, maximize reducing interferences to his core research work, most effectively avoid risks possibly triggering large-scale conflicts—thus consuming precious time and energy—these were his sole and fundamental criteria making choices.
Inside workshops, only equipment operational low humming plus faint hissing from energy flowing through conduits.
Cairo's mechanical fingers unconsciously tapped control console edges, emitting rhythmic cold clicking sounds.
A decision possibly affecting Night City—even broader regional power balances—was quietly brewing within this silent space beneath deserts.