Where do you find the most cyberpsychos?
Maelstrom. Night City's finest.
These freaks loved swapping chrome without anesthesia and bolting optical implants onto their faces that no sane person would call aesthetic.
Their signature look: red optics, black metal tattoos, illegal mods galore, and hollowed-out jaws that turned their voices into distorted electric static.
Weak flesh was useless to them. The more chrome you packed, the more you loved grotesque violence — bonus points for death metal — Maelstrom welcomed you with open arms!
Today's score was big. Maelstrom goons sat in the front room playing cards, passing "the good stuff" between them, punctuated by wet huffing sounds.
A hit here, a hit there. Classic Maelstrom.
"Where the hell is Dum Dum? Fuck, they only sent us to watch... Dogtown's perfect for burying bodies. That dog should be gutted and bricked into a wall right now. I can barely hold back."
"Hssss! Good shit!"
This guy's arm was gray-white, covered in bulging veins and soft-metal wires. He slapped down his cards in an empty hand.
The gangster next to him — chest scarred with shoddy cyberware sutures — dangled a cigarette and threw down cards on the guy before him.
"Pay up! Pay up!"
They shoved each other around. Harsh laughter and crude insults echoed through the room.
BANG!
A massive crash from the front door. The dim room flooded with sunlight.
The rusted automatic door sparked and groaned. The lock was shredded. A boot print stamped dead center...
Everyone went quiet. Except for the death metal still blasting. The guy standing on the card table didn't realize his mouth had fallen open. His cigarette dropped to the floor.
Silhouetted in the doorway stood a girl with twin tails.
Cradling a jet-black shotgun.
"Shit! Mercs!"
A Maelstrom member lunged for the rifle leaning against the table — but Rebecca's big gun spoke first.
The guy who hadn't finished his smoke got plastered across the wall by a shotgun blast.
"Motherfucker!"
Every Maelstrom barrel swung toward Rebecca. A pale blue streak flew from behind her, grazing her shoulder —
Her hair whipped in the powerful gust. The gangster in front of her didn't even get a shot off before his skull split open.
Rebecca dove sideways behind a computer terminal by the door. Bullets hammered the cover, pinning her down.
"Nice shot, asshole!" She called out, waiting for the gunfire to slack off so she could pop out and give these idiots what they deserved.
Ethan lay prone on a distant rooftop. "Don't mention it."
Concrete chips flew as Maelstrom shouted. A beeping grenade arced through the air toward Rebecca's position.
Ethan's second shot detonated the grenade mid-flight.
The explosion kicked up a cloud of debris. Rebecca nearly got buried in rubble.
After that shot, Ethan knew Rebecca was about to lose it. He quickly stowed the Nekomata and moved toward the Maelstrom building.
Sure enough, the next second her furious voice crackled through his earpiece.
"Had your fun, assholes? My turn!"
Ethan's neck retracted instinctively. He hurriedly told Maine they could start the breach.
Rebecca was supposed to draw Maelstrom's attention. If she kept taking concentrated fire, things would get ugly.
Outside this run-down two-story Dogtown tenement, Pilar had rigged a high-explosive charge against the wall. Maine crouched to one side, hands over ears, ready to go.
Urban warfare. Room clearing. How do you do it?
Ethan, formerly of Barghest, knew the answer: don't funnel through the front door. Blow the wall. That's the play.
After these few jobs, the crew had picked up about seventy percent of Barghest's combat doctrine. Suppress with firepower when you can. Throw grenades when you can't.
Rebecca ran and gunned, fluid as water. Maelstrom barrels swung wildly but couldn't track her.
Then — the automated turret Maelstrom had set up opened fire. Its aim was leagues better than these half-fried psychos. That thing was the real threat to Rebecca.
"If Sasha were here, she'd hack that turret and turn Maelstrom into Swiss cheese!"
Rebecca grumbled as she circled the turret, waiting for a gap in its mechanical traverse. When it came — she lunged. Her hand locked onto the power cable on its side.
Crackling, tooth-grinding sounds. Electricity arced everywhere.
Ethan stood with rifle raised. One shot severed the heavy cable feeding the turret.
Rebecca's arm veins bulged. With a growl, her deceptively slender arms ripped the heavy machine gun right off its mount.
Of course, Ethan shooting out the mounting bolts was the main factor.
The barrel swung around.
Rebecca planted her feet wide, both hands gripping the gun. The pink tattoos on her thighs made the black weapon look even more terrifying.
After that first job, she'd upgraded her arm chrome. Still a ways from her dream of a colorful cannon, but at least she could lift something like this now.
"Eat lead!"
Heavy thudding erupted. Fat brass casings clattered to the ground one after another. Maelstrom's cover disintegrated under the massive caliber.
BOOM!
The wall suddenly bulged inward. Smoke and bricks exploded into the room. A Maelstrom member who'd been leaning there simply vanished —
A massive figure squeezed through the hole. The caught-off-guard gangsters stared at Maine — dark-skinned, built like a gorilla — and swallowed hard.
Rat-tat-tat!
A Maelstrom rifle opened up! Not a single round hit Maine. The shooter was launched backward by sheer impact force, spine snapping on contact. Dead before he hit the ground.
Ethan emerged from behind Maine, pistol up. In the distance, Rebecca was focused on enemies in front of her, unaware that several Maelstrom had crept up behind.
His Lexington XMOD paired with the Ballistic Coprocessor bounced rounds off cover surfaces. Everyone trying to ambush Rebecca dropped dead.
The two of them faced opposite directions, stepping backward until their backs touched.
"Nice aim." Ethan said quietly.
Rebecca's voice could shift dramatically — cute and squeaky when she was happy, rough and gravelly in combat.
"Don't underestimate me! I'm the edgerunner watching YOUR back!" The barrel of her heavy gun glowed cherry red.
As the last round fired, Rebecca hurled the massive weapon at a piece of cover where a Maelstrom was hiding.
Perfect timing — the idiot poked his head up just as the gun smashed into him.
The two quickly shifted to search formation and pushed deeper into the building's corridors.
Once the front room was clear, Pilar moved in.
"Atta Boy" bio-grenades flew into the dark underground passage like he had a death wish. Laser-tripwire mines armed with sharp clicks. Explosions chained one after another — curses and coughing filled the air. The tunnel reeked of acrid smoke.
Whoosh!
Several bullets tore through the air!
Ethan burst from the side and shoved Rebecca out of the way. Rounds hit his face. Blood immediately welled from the holes. The impacts staggered him back, and he crashed headfirst into a pile of corridor debris.
Not just his face — three holes in one arm. Nearly ruined it.
Why is it always the arm? The RIGHT arm again!
Ethan was in enough pain to want to die.
"Ethan!" Maine froze for a second, then roared.
Maelstrom fire intensified down the corridor!
Rebecca and the others couldn't reach him. All they could do was return fire and look for an opening to get closer.
Ethan, lying in the debris pile, raised his still-functional arm and called out weakly: "I'm fine!"
Flat on his back, he shook his dizzy head.
Clearly, subdermal armor wasn't foolproof — especially mid-grade subdermal armor.
"Got my money's worth lasting this long."
In the distance, Pilar wiped sweat from his forehead while dodging bullets and throwing grenades. Relief flooded through him.
Fuck! His little sis almost got hit!
"Kid's solid!"
Seeing Ethan was okay, Rebecca and the others channeled their rage into the remaining Maelstrom holdouts.
A storm of gunfire erupted once more!
Steel Heart, Iron Courage and Vigor gradually dulled Ethan's agony. The Pain Editor kicked in too.
The wounds looked horrific. But nowhere near fatal.
Just as Ethan was catching his breath and preparing to get back up, text appeared in his optics.
[Character "Pilar" — Affinity Updated]
[Affinity: 20]
[Reward: Technical Ability +2, Technical Ability Perk Tree Unlocked]
Ethan let out a disturbing dry laugh, then spat out a broken tooth and blood.
"Those bullets were worth it!"
[Dum Dum]: In Cyberpunk 2077's "The Pickup" mission, he's the Maelstrom member who sells the Flathead robot. Seems goofy but is cunning and cruel — tries to shake down V and Jackie alongside Royce.