Most Samurai I’ve talked to use a lot of the same weaponry that they used at the very beginning of their career. Upgraded, obviously, and willing to diversify when the situation calls for it, but most often they stick with what they know. Often this is because their AIs encourage them to specialize in specific catalogs and vertical investment has better long-term returns, but just as often it's because some of their first weapons are the one they found to be their absolute favorite.

  -Excerpt from “The Endless Arsenal: Unpacking the Point-Buy Samurai Mindset”, 2042

  I remember the progression of my weaponry pretty well all things considered. Bashing a Model Three to death with a brass knuckle is far from efficient, and you can really only go up from there.

  Guns were a no go right from the start. Early on I had to use one a couple of times to deal with more slippery models, but I remember actively scoffing at the idea of using a firearm when Calydon first suggested it. No offense to those who use them–they are tools used by the vast majority of Samurai for a reason–but they’ve always been a bit…impersonal for my taste.

  I tried a few other melee weapons at the very beginning, but none of them ever really clicked with me. Swords, spears, axes, none of them had that right amount of impact behind them. Hammers and by proxy maces were close, but there was a lack of finesse with those I didn’t gel with.

  It was only when I went back to my own two fists that something finally came together.

  The first pair of gauntlets that I bought, around thirty points if I remember correctly, were the first step in the right direction. Comparatively nothing fancy about them, really just a pair of unbelievably light and sturdy metal gloves that could blast an Antithesis with shotgun blasts on impact, but the feeling of being able to throw a right hook and watch a Model Three bend in a hysterically fatal way was wonderful.

  The upgrade? That was love at first punch.

  A Model Three charged forward with reckless abandon towards our group in the tunnel, the canine-shaped plant monster likely hoping that the darkness would give it a chance to tear us all apart. My mask completely disagreed, showing the dog in plenty of detail while my augs helpfully predicted its path with several red lines. Just as it lunged into melee range I threw a straight from my right and watched as the alien literally exploded into a firework of putrid, vegan-friendly viscera on impact.

  From the Class II Kinetic Melee Weaponry Catalog, these were the Newton Mark III Combat Gauntlets, and whenever I was fighting they may as well have been sex appeal incarnate with how much I adored them.

  Composed of a remarkably light alloy formed from several other alloys of extraterrestrial origin, Cal assured me that nothing short of a model in the thirties could actively break through the metal. Where my previous gauntlets needed ammunition or thrusters to produce the force needed to kill an Antithesis, this five fingered work of art weaponized kinetic energy itself, both passively storing it when generated through my own movements and even absorbing any blowback on impact to later release on wherever my punches land. Every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and these weapons could actively use that principle to turn everything it made contact with into past tense.

  A stampede of Antithesis followed after its comrade, but I simply met them with an overly enthusiastic grin on my face. Every time a punch of mine connected, something died. Model Three? Bang. Model Five? Block the spikes, then bang. A particularly ballsy Model Four made some swift attempts at me, but a hop back and a haymaker later its tentacles were splattered across the rest of the tunnel. In less than a minute the entire mob of nasty plant aliens was reduced to exploded limbs and vomit-inducing fluid painted all across that part of the burrow, and I didn’t feel even a little winded.

  Campbell let out a whistle from behind me as the rest of the platoon stood flabbergasted at the little show. “Damn, girl.”

  I turned to respond, but the soft fluttering of wings caught my mask’s sensors further down in the tunnel.

  Model Ones, most likely. And a good flock of them at that. More than a dozen, most likely.

  My good mood disappeared. I hated those fucking birds. Do you know how hard it is to punch a bird? Really hard. Luckily, I had a solution.

  The bottom part of one of my gauntlets popped open, and I quickly loaded several white cartridges from my pocket into it. They looked less like any sort of magazine and more like individual shotgun shells, which wasn’t inaccurate to their purpose. Facing the palm forward I coiled back the arm and held, waiting as the sound of beating wings grew louder by the second.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The second one of those winged bastards came into view, I struck my hand forward, and my ears popped due to the wave of force that blasted out of my palm. More birds came into view as I did the motion, but they were either forced back or crushed completely by the invisible pulse. A few seconds later, the combined sounds of something falling to the floor could be heard from within the darkness.

  God I loved that force cartridge. Didn’t do jack shit against anything in the double digits, but was basically perfect to liquify any Model One or Model Seven that happened to be in whatever direction I hated most.

  “Should be good,” I called back to the rest of the group. “Don’t worry about hitting me if you see a nasty by the way. I’m basically bulletproof.”

  Basically is stretching the definition. While your epidermal micromesh augmentation and your protective suit combined make it extremely unlikely for you to take meaningful damage from any conventional round, being hit by a bullet would hardly be painless.

  “Mostly bulletproof,” I corrected. “Try not to aim at me if you can.”

  “Don't let Rudy shoot then,” Campbell added. “He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn even if he wanted to.”

  Hazel shot him a particularly drilling glare at the untimely comment, which promptly shut Campbell up. “Not the time. Max, you'll take the lead. Kill as many Antithesis you can; if any slip through, we'll shoot them down.”

  She pointed to Barrett. “You're on cleanup as always. When you see a chance, char their remains so they can't use it again. If Max ever needs to fall back, you'll be our primary defensive block while we retreat, so don't be wasteful.”

  Barrett gave a thumbs up. “Got it, boss.”

  If you would be willing to spend the points, you can also offer them Antithesis flesh melters to conserve their resources.

  “Yo, do want to say I can give you supplies and stuff for cleanup if you need.” I echoed out loud while raising my hand, giving the noticeably less formal version.

  “We’ll let you know when we need some then,” Hazel replied, bringing her focus back to the tunnel looming out in front of all of us. “Let’s move!”

  Our advance continued on from there, just at a particularly glacial pace with how often the Antithesis decided to obstruct our path with a wave of very angry models, ten or so at a time. Only Models Three through Six were being sent our way with the occasional flock of Ones, but you didn’t see me particularly complaining about easy points. I was plenty content enough to just be bringing them all to an early funeral, dancing around them all as if I had springs for legs and promptly deleting them with a well placed punch. Model Sixes usually required a bit more finesse to land a one hit kill, as their plating meant they could take an extra punch or two before dropping, but that just made the van-sized nuts more fun to crack.

  Hazel and the rest of her squad were definitely solid at filling in the gaps. Being a melee fighter I couldn’t quite get everything, but anything that slipped past was almost instantly turned into swiss cheese, usually a Model Three or Four since I kept my eyes on the more durable targets. Campbell and Hazel almost seemed to be having just as much fun as I was dropping bodies, as they each kept a tally of kills to gloat to each other about later. As alluded to earlier, Campbell kept a small but definitive lead over his superior.

  Barrett and Rudy kept back a bit farther than the rest, likely because the former’s weapon of choice was not especially well suited for tight spaces with other people in front, and the latter because they really couldn’t contribute. Rudy did actually have a firearm on hip, but his hand froze whenever he reached for it, retreating before ever getting a grip on the metal. Damn, was his aim actually that bad?

  We pushed onward, and soon came across the now thoroughly trampled scraps of the drone Rudy had sent out, which meant we were quickly approaching the Model Nines. Despite their stealth capabilities they actually proved easy to find in the tunnel; when the entire rest of the cavern was smooth and uniform, two rocks smack dab in the middle of the path was about as suspicious as could be. Lo and behold a shot from Campbell's rifle revealed the pair of vegan death blenders and a few more bullets put them down. Nines were a bit hard to fight up close, so I wasn't particularly heartbroken about the lost points.

  Soon we approached the very heart of the system and could just make out the end of the tunnel, the hive in the room at the center. “Cal, pass me some blast cartridges.”

  Purchased: Newton O.H. Focused-Yield Explosive Cartridge x 6 - 30 Points

  Point Total: 1933

  A handful of orange shells fell into my open palm, ones that I quickly loaded in the place of the white force ones. I had a hunch that the hive probably wasn't going to throw Model Ones at me in self defense.

  The rest of the squad slowed their pace while I approached the opening undeterred. A quick hop down into the cavern and I quickly assessed the belly of the beast. This was hardly the first hive I had seen, although it was clear the Antithesis had taken an already existing cavern and terraformed it for their specific needs.

  The one thing that did strike me as odd was how quiet the entire cavern was, almost inert. Don’t get me wrong it was still spitting out Antithesis, but they should have had pods popping out Models left and right, but the entire cavern had only a handful of those disgusting pods littered around and were producing new Models way slower than I expected, at least compared to Targ. Was what they threw at us really what they had?

  I didn't have a chance to ruminate on that question before the entire right side of my augs flashed crimson.

  Block right!

  Just barely I brought both hands up in defense, and could just make out the bladed tentacle that smashed into me before being thrown back into the adjacent wall.