- Internal memo of XetaCorp Inc.
I watched the young woman cautiously as she ran off towards the bridge, her black cape fluttering eerily silent behind her. Herold always said he loved me for my vivid imagination, but there were certain moments in which I could’ve gone without that particular character trait of mine. Today was one of those days.
When we first set out for the park today, I was hoping for maybe decent weather and a pleasant trip. And while the weather had held, if you discounted the sudden downpour of hungry plants from outer space, the pleasantness of this trip left much to be desired. Surprisingly, a good chunk of that also came from the Samurai who had decided to assist me in finding my husband.
Meeting Samurai was certainly not something I had ever expected I would experience, and even in those outlandish dreams of youth I wouldn’t have expected for the meeting to go like this. Not only was the Samurai with me, Yurei, if I remembered the words of her friend correctly, quite unlike any depicted online, she also seemed convinced that I had it out for her. An astronomically stupid notion. Who would voluntarily start trouble with a Samurai?
Perhaps it was because she was relatively new. I wasn’t an expert on the topic, but that much seemed obvious. If only through the fact that she lacked the effortless confidence that so many Samurai portrayed in public. Her equipment, while quality work no doubt, also left a lot to be desired. Compared to the gear that someone like Paragon was able to muster, hers looked downright sad. To those who knew nothing about good gear, anyway. Not enough glowing bits, not enough pomp.
I couldn’t be certain. Even if she might be new as a Samurai, it hadn’t taken long for me to realise that she wasn’t just your average civvie being chosen as Earth’s protector. In my youth I had been a bit of a wildcat, and I’ve been around the block enough times to meet a couple of interesting faces. Many of which were part of the gangs, enforcers, drug dealers, smugglers, bouncers, ex-soldiers and former PMC members. They all were dangerous in some capacity, and none I would take lightly on a good day. But compared to this Samurai? They were hardly better than children playing pretend. And that despite the fact that I would guess her to be in her late twenties at the absolute oldest. Likely a bit younger.
It was in the way she moved, the way she spoke and watched. I was certain she was listening to the exact way I was breathing, the way I was leading her here. More than once did I honestly miss her even being there, despite never being more than a couple of paces away.
That sense of danger was only solidified as I sat and watched.
Unsurprisingly, although much to my dismay, she was quick on her feet and even quicker to discard the dropped rifles into the river. From her comment I was rather certain that that was to do with her not wanting me to get my hands on them. As if I’d be suicidal enough to try and take out a Samurai with nothing more than a second hand rifle of some poor sod eaten in a park, and my best wishes and dreams at my disposal. It would be faster and less painful to just jump off the next skyscraper and take the express train to hell.
Once the rifles were waterlogged, she ran along the bridge with speed, although careful to not make too much in the way of sound. Her way of moving was unlike anything I’ve ever seen between all the gang-folk and PMC I ever had to deal with. Sure, nobody was trained the same way, but generally most showed similar inclinations. She was entirely different.
The moment the first alien showed itself, things changed drastically.
At first, I didn’t even see the dog-like plant fucker that tried to sneak up on her. She just made a quick motion, and a flash of neon green appeared somewhere in front of her. The next moment she had her pistol drawn and killed four more. Whatever she killed got back up and turned on its former brethren, which was another reason I would choose not to engage her, even if I wanted to in the first place. Being turned into some kind of undead puppet did not fit my definition of afternoon fun.
The rest of the fight went by in a blazing fashion. Shit died before I could even properly track from back here, her silhouette dancing over the battlefield like a damn ghost. More than once did something try to hit her and I could’ve sworn she should’ve lost an arm or a leg, but she didn’t seem to even pay attention to it, systematically dismantling whatever was in her way. And not in the same simplistic way of your common soldier either. Each attack she made, each shot, each thrust of her blade, was perfectly precise and purposeful, delivering exactly the force necessary to deal with the adversary in front of her, while not leaving her exposed for any longer than was absolutely necessary.
Stolen story; please report.
In short, it was a one sided bloodbath.
My daughter has had quite the fascination with Samurai back during her childhood. Pretty common stuff, kids do need a hero figure. Between Samurai’s general disregard for law and order, and Mia’s… let’s call it enthusiastic interest in rapid unscheduled disassembly of various goods, beings, and services, I’ve had to endure quite the number of hours worth of Samurai fighting off the xenos. Seldom did I, as someone who’s gotten in way too many fights than I probably ever should in my life, have to raise my eyebrows in surprise.
This, though? Entirely different league.
This Yurei, she wasn’t killing antithesis. She was disposing of them in the most efficient manner at hand.
By the time she had the bridge cleared, a small army of undead xenos was pushing their way onto the island. Truth be told, I was halfway tempted to do a runner. She knew what the fuck she was doing, and if she was considering me a threat, I didn’t want to know the outcome of what would happen if she did something about it.
But Herold needed my help. And I wasn’t about to leave him behind just because some supersoldier might not trust me enough.
Taking a deep breath, I checked my surroundings, before I finally got up from behind the underbrush and slowly started to make my way over to the bridge. As capable as this Yurei might be, I didn’t leave anything up to chance, making sure that nothing else with plans of eating me was in my vicinity.
The Samurai in question was already slowly making her way back over the bridge, her undead minions keeping on the island side, likely with orders to defend and protect. Walking wasn’t perfectly easy, with as much alien goo and blood as there was, there was a real risk of slipping and falling, so I decided to take it slow.
“My AI hasn’t found him yet. Probably took the tunnels to head over to the other shelter,” she said in that familiar almost stoic manner that she’d shown ever since we left the others behind.
“Probably. Do you think it’s safe to cross?” I couldn’t help but keep a firm eye on the antithesis shambling behind her. Seeing them made me shudder with revulsion, and a tiny little bit of fear. No matter if she could control them or not.
“Should be. I couldn’t find any larger groups, and the few strays I can take care of.”
“You know,” I said, eyeing the island cautiously, “I’d really rather not walk around unarmed.”
“Tough luck. Now let’s get going.” She was about to turn away, but I stopped her, reaching out but not quite touching her.
“Look,” I started, slightly hesitantly. I tried my best to portray some confidence, although right now that wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do. “I’m not sure what your story is. And I don’t know why you’d worry that some noname like me would be stupid enough to try and knife a Samurai, but I’m not. You don’t get to live this long with a youth like mine by being stupid, and something tells me you know that. I’ve gotten out long ago, fell in love, found my husband, and I have a daughter. I’d rather not leave them behind alone. If only, because I know Herold will completely get lost if I’m not there to help him.” I smiled faintly at the thought. “I don’t know a lot about Samurai, but I know enough to know that you folk generally don’t wanna see people die. And I know you care at least enough to help me look for my husband, despite not trusting me. But you’re also just one woman, and I really rather not run around with nothing more than some old knife I’ve had for two decades by now and wishful dreams about not being mauled to death by extraterrestrial plant monsters. I can fight, and I can keep myself safe, but I need a weapon for that.”
I kept a careful eye on her. Truth be told, I didn’t hold out too much hope. It was clear that she was the cautious type and slow to trust others. But I still found it worth asking.
For a long moment there was silence, and she gave me a sideways glance. Then her head shifted, just ever so slightly. Likely her AI speaking up. I’ve heard before that Samurai could communicate with them without speaking, although how exactly that worked I wasn’t sure. Mia thought it was a sort of telepathy or mind reading, although I didn’t really believe that. If only because the thought that the AI could just read our minds was fucking terrifying.
“Alright,” she finally said, a bit of reluctance in her tone. A moment later something appeared next to her, and she caught it out of the air. Flipping it around, she handed me a small pistol, handle first. “Try to shoot me with it, and the thing will blow up and take your hand with it, got it?”
I swallowed, her tone of voice made it clear that she wasn’t fucking around. Glancing at the weapon I hesitated for just a moment, before I slowly reached for it. “Yeah, no worries. Do I need to worry about it blowing up otherwise?”
“No. You’re right, I don’t want to see civilians die. And I’ll do a lot better if I don’t have to babysit you. Just don’t make me regret it. You won’t like what happens when you do.”
Without another word she turned and started walking along the bridge.
I eyed the weapon cautiously for a long moment, before I gently checked it over, and made sure that it was loaded. From the design it was clear that it was a pretty simple thing, chambered in 9mm from the look of things. It was hard to tell, since it was missing the engravings that would typically denote details like that.
But it was a weapon, and despite the warning, that alone was enough to make me feel slightly more safe. With the inspection of the weapon complete, I nodded, quickly following behind her. This day was fucking nerve wrecking. I just hoped that I survived it long enough to tell Herold all about it.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell Mia about Yurei, though.
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