~Rare interview with Samurai “Granny Smith,” 2054
With a sure footing that I really didn’t feel, I made my way over to the area Wing tagged in my augs. In theory, this was where I would be meeting Bravo Squad, and helping with…
A note appeared in the periphery of my augs with what was apparently what I was supposed to be helping with.
To Do:
- Building clearing
- Shelter evacuation
- Kill aliens, get points, buy gear
- Bake muffins
I wasn’t sure how a squad needed help baking muffins, but I was happy to find out! Granted, I didn’t really think it needed saying, but it was a bit of insight into understand my AI’s quirks a little better.
Weaving between soldiers, vehicles, tents, and a variety of other things that the FOB needed, I was aware of people watching me as I passed. I felt the weight of their gaze resting on my back, which made me feel exposed in a way that I’d not experienced before. Or maybe that was just my imagination.
I just hoped that I lived up to the expectations that they piled onto my shoulder.
As I approached what I assumed to be Bravo Squad, I was hit by a moment of deja vu. It reminded me of my time in the Cascadian Military when I was assigned to my first unit. The fears of expectation, the hope of friendship, the potential for something great. They all swirled around my stomach, causing a brief moment of hesitation before I finished my journey.
Bravo Squad was composed of six people, all geared up for battle. A Sergeant, a Corporal, and four Privates, if their insignias followed traditional military ranks.
Hand extended, the Sergeant towered a full head above me and said “Pleased to meet you, Samurai. I’m Sergeant Adams, Squad Leader for Bravo Squad. With me are Corporal Jenkins as well as Privates McCallister, Voss, Sims, and Morgan.” At the sound of their names, each person came to attention and snapped off a salute.
Taking Adams’ calloused hand, I gave it a firm shake, trying to convey competence. “Pleased to meet you all. I’m Ambrosia, or Amby for short.”
He nodded in acknowledgement. “The pleasure is ours. Have you been briefed on our mission?”
“A little,” I said with a bit of a shrug as I released his hand, as mine dropped back to my side. “I was told that there was a building that needed to be cleared and a shelter to evacuate?”
“That’s the gist of it. It should be a fairly straightforward mission and Intel has provided a rough threat analysis of what we can expect.” He paused at this and considered his next words. “This late in the incursion, we’re expecting to start seeing higher level models. So, anticipate anything up to an M-14. We’ll be looking to you to deal with the higher tier models.”
Huh. Considering I’d not seen anything above an M-5, that was a bit alarming and sent a shiver of panic racing down my spine. He must have caught my reaction.
“I’m guessing this is your first incursion?”
I nodded. “I’ve been a Samurai for, like, four hours now? I’ve not really encountered anything that’s not a single digit alien.” It was true, but maybe not in the way he was thinking. Hopefully, I could fake it long enough to actually get competent at this.
A slight grimace creased Adams’ face in what I thought was worry. “From what I understand, most Samurai go through trial by fire,” he said with a shrug that caused his armor and weapon to shift slightly. “We’ll do our best, but we aren’t really equipped for anything above the single digits.”
As he talked, I noticed a rather large xeno flying off in the distance, and it seemed to be headed this way. Before it got too much further, a figure had launched itself off of something and was airborne. A weapon launched grenades at the winged beast with great success, much to the creature’s detriment.
A rapid series of brilliant flashes peppered their way across the flying rose bush. Craters were left in the large body as holes peppered the wings. Sooner than I expected, its meager defenses had been overwhelmed.
Everyone else’s attention snapped that way as the distant sound of explosives echoed between buildings. We all watched as the xeno tumbled from the sky and vanished in a mess of concrete and smoke. A plume of what I hoped was dust climbed its way into the sunny and cloudless sky.
“Huh,” I managed to say, ever the wordsmith.
“It would appear that Samurai Granny Smith is taking care of the larger models at the moment,” Adams said as he nodded in approval.
Honestly, that was a relief. Logically, I knew that I would have to handle larger and larger threats as time went on and as I gained access to better gear. Emotionally, I didn’t think I was quite ready to accept that. Physically, I really wasn’t ready for any of that.
Although, my AI did have a bevy of ways to help with the physical readiness, and probably the emotional aspect as well. Wing kept tempting me with new toys and he definitely knew the way to this girl’s heart.
Adams cleared his throat, which had the intended effect of drawing everyone’s attention back to the Squad Leader. “We have our orders. One last check for gear, everyone. We move out in five.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The squad broke apart as everyone went about checking their gear and finalizing preparations. I watched for a moment before I turned my attention to my own gear. Considering nearly everything was purchased within the last couple of hours, I wasn’t really worried about the state of things.
That being said, I still took the time to ensure everything was ready. The Piping Tip was hot and secured in the thigh holster, but I still pulled it out and checked. Look. I knew it was loaded. But sometimes a girl just wanted to look like a badass.
I dropped the magazine from the grip, caught it and checked that it was still full. After confirming this, I slid it home before I pulled the slide back to check that a round was still chambered. Yep. Just like it had been for a while now.
Satisfied, I slipped the weapon back into the holster before I turned my attention to the brace of knives situated on my left hip.
I pulled one of the knives free and turned it over in my hand. I watched as the entire knife activated and became a swirling blend of RGB colors. It felt balanced. Comfortable. Way too nice for something meant to be thrown at another living being.
“Wing,” I murmured under my breath, “why are my throwing knives made of RGB lights?”
There was a pause. Considering the speed at which the AI operated, this was deliberate.
I think the better question is, why shouldn’t they have RGB lights embedded just under everything?
I snorted quietly and slid the blade back into place. “Because they’re knives. Not a gaming keyboard.”
You say that as if those two things are mutually exclusive.
I rolled my shoulder, tugging down the bottom of my jacket. “I’m serious.”
So am I. The illumination is optional, adjustable, and purely aesthetic. It provides no tactical disadvantage.
“That’s not what I asked.” I felt my amusement weave its way through my words.
No, Wing replied pleasantly, but it is the correct answer.
I let that sit while I checked the rest of my kit, fingers traced patterns in the jacket and under-armor before they double checked the boots and finally, my cowl and mask. Everything felt right to me. Or close enough.
If it helps, Wing added, you could disable the lighting entirely.
I paused. My hand shifted back and rested on the brace of knives.
“…I don’t want to.”
Noted, he said, sounding entirely too pleased.
I exhaled through my nose. “You’re enjoying this.”
I am enjoying you enjoying your equipment.
I shook my head, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”
Statistically, that has not yet been disproven.
For a few seconds, we lapsed into silence. Not awkward. Just… there. The hum of the FOB surrounded me, distant voices and machinery bleeding together into white noise.
While we have a moment, Wing said casually, there are some additional personal upgrades I think you might enjoy. Nothing that you would need for this mission.
“So, non-essential?” I asked.
Entirely optional, he assured me. Some do have combat advantages, but most center around baking. I could make a list of each if you’d like.
I considered that longer than I probably should have. It was tempting, but was this moment the right time for what would probably be a somewhat lengthy conversation?
“Not now,” I said finally. “Later. Maybe.”
Understood, Wing replied, no disappointment in his tone. I will make a note.
“Please don’t make it a sticky note,” I added dryly.
Too late.
That managed to elicit a chuckle from me. Since he was already talking about new upgrades, I decided to ask about something I’d been wondering about.
“Hey, Wing? How much would it cost to unlock a camera catalog?” I could almost feel him perk up at this question.
Oh? Looking to record your upcoming fight? Perhaps the baker who already streams her job wants to stream her other job?
“The second one. Like, I enjoy sharing baking with my loyal followers, so why not stream the Samurai aspects?”
Well, for one, have you considered asking the Bravo Squad if they are comfortable on stream? And secondly, what do you want to be known as? While not necessary, per se, you don’t have a Samurai Name.
Right. That was a concern. I did like the idea of streaming my Samurai… ness, but I didn’t want that to be associated with Amby the Baker. I mulled this over for a moment as I weighed my desire for anonymity against the fun I had when streaming.
Admittedly, the answer was obvious. And, if I was being entirely honest with myself, it wasn’t smart to split my attention when I didn’t even know what was waiting for us.
“Okay. Shelve the idea for now and let’s revisit it later.”
Understood, Wing replied. For now though, you should look at finishing your preparations.
With Wing’s final nudge, the sounds of the world crept back into my perceptions. The hum of generators. Squad leaders barking orders. The beating heart of the war machine that I was now a part of.
I let my hand rest against my thigh for a moment, feeling the weight of the holster there. The solid, reassuring presence of it. It still hadn’t quite sunk in that this, all of this, was real.
Four hours ago, my biggest concern had been whether I’d proofed the dough long enough and what drink Riku would make me.
I’d built a life around quiet things. Early mornings. Warm ovens. The comforting predictability of recipes that didn’t change unless I changed them. Even streaming had been controlled with strategic camera angles that kept the mess just out of frame.
This wasn’t like that.
There were no silly outtakes here. No pausing to fix a mistake before it got out of hand. Whatever happened next would happen whether I felt ready for it or not.
And the strange thing was… I didn’t feel panicked as I expected.
Nervous, sure. Somewhat unsteady. But underneath that was something else. A sense of purpose that I hadn’t expected. As if some part of me had already accepted this was something I could do.
That thought intrigued me more than it scared me.
I flexed my fingers once, then let my hand fall down to my side.
I just needed to follow the recipe, one step at a time. That had always worked before.
I looked back over to the others and noted that they had moved towards the pair of vehicles that waited for us. A few steps brought me back over to the squad.
“Ready?” Adams asked, giving me a once over.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, trying to portray a confidence that I was just starting to feel before I moved to grab an open seat.
He turned to the rest of the squad and nodded before ordering everyone to move out. It was time to sink or swim.
Discord for that!