Chapter 41: So, so much…

  “Most of the time, samurai equipment gets sold or dismantled for research. Every single merc wants to keep them, but servicing the damn things is almost impossible. Add the ammunition issues on top of that and you got a weapon no one can use.

  Some guns can handle normal ammo or just use electricity or somethin’, but often you can’t repair them. Some can be repaired, but then you can’t source parts if they break.

  Of course, that’s not to say mercs or militia don’t have any samurai guns. It just means that you won’t see them on video feeds or outside of special circumstances.

  As far as corporate is concerned, none of us have any, of course!”

  –Disgruntled anonymous PMC, post-incursion interview, 2047.

  ***

  “Alright, we’re getting into the complicated shit now.” I said, making sure everyone stopped the side discussions. On one hand, I didn’t want to interrupt something important. On the other?

  I wanted this meeting to be done! I hated this shit, no matter how fucking important. I preferred doing stuff instead of talking about it endlessly! This couldn’t end soon enough…

  I grabbed a super synthetic tasting apple pocket sort of thing (god, Altany spoiled me) to calm myself and took a hit from my delicious lychee vape pen. I imagined it tasted like real lychee, knowing how good the protector-made shit could be. However, I had no fucking clue what the genuine thing might taste like.

  Disgusting.

  I ignored Altany. “So, how’s the militia on equipment? I know that we got a lot of good stuff at least.” One of the advantages of mass murdering a bunch of evil mercs? You got to loot all their gear!

  We had an overabundance of useless shit with a large helping of shit so high quality we couldn’t maintain it. Also, tons of broken stuff. To my knowledge, not a single mech survived my rampage. There were a couple suits of heavy-armor, but that was it. We did get some crew-served weapons, but almost no one had training for those. Essentially? A giant fucking mess.

  No one had any clue how to service armed hovercrafts or armored troop transports! We’d learn… or buy a maintenance drone. Probably the drone thing. Actually, yeah, drone. Drone good!

  We had some mechanics at least! That and a bunch of ex-mercs who knew their equipment. Not all of them were in the militia but we offered good pay for their services. HFUGs ended up mounted on some of those transports. We’d pick up the ex-slaves using those. I’d send enforcers and a bunch of our best equipped militia with them for protection.

  Tetsuo, the new highest ranking militia officer since the last one died, answered awkwardly. “Well… I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, boss, but we’re having a few issues with equipment. Don’t get me wrong! We’re super, super happy to get samurai tech and everything, and the stuff you got us is amazing, but it’s all SMGs, you know? We need more varied equipment, sidearms, armor, boots, uniforms, the lots. To be clear, we can mostly operate as is, but for looking and fighting like pros, we’ll need those. We ended up with a lot of mismatched stuff and hum… a lot of things we looted were pretty… bloody?” I winced. Yeah, couldn’t imagine most of the uniforms and armor would be in good shape.

  “I mean, we got some intact gear! We looted their mobile armories which had tons of spares, but still, lots of mismatch and confusion. There’s also a bit of jealousy involved with the people who get better gear and all that, but that’s not a big problem since they’re happy to get good equipment period! Everything we got now beat the hell out of our old shitty AKs. I’m training the guys so we can rotate the alien tech stuff, keep everyone happy. We’re also going to need a resupply on ammo for the caseless stuff from you since we can’t really get it anywhere else…” Commander Tetsuo acted like… Alice in front of me after fucking something up. Weird.

  I sighed. Yeah, that was the problem with samurai equipment. Always a bitch to source ammo or maintain. “Alright, good work Tetsuo, we’ll find something…”

  I believe I may have a solution.

  I perked up! “Oh? To which problem?”

  All of it.

  Now everyone paid attention to the hologram cyber-panda!

  The fuck was my life?

  You could purchase a fabricator to produce the equipment you need for the militia. This solution may be expensive, but you will be able to create ammunition, weapons and armor without any further point expenditure. It can also be used after your death.

  I thought for a minute before asking about a potential issue. “Can they fabricate Mole-Bear alloys? I mean, I’d like the guns I create to be as good as the gear I bought before, you know?” The little avatar nodded, thank fuck!

  Some of them, yes, although it will require a better model than the basic version. It is able to rearrange pre-made alloys when the quality exceeds what it can fabricate from scratch. You will have to purchase blueprints for everything you wish to make, aside from some ‘tier 0’ items, such as concrete mix. Blueprints containing Mole-Bear alloys will cost more, but the next issue will be sourcing base materials.

  I recommend getting a specialized deconstruction engine. It should allow you to convert the refuse from the building into usable materials. Your fabricators will be able do the same, but given the volume in question, specialized equipment is recommended. You will also need more than one fabricator to accomplish the task in a reasonable timeframe. This is only one of their advantages, of course.

  The fabricators can produce vanguard grade materials that may be added to the building’s construction by your drones. It could be used to produce items needed for repair and rebuilding efforts, but credits may be the better choice in this area. The fabricators could also focus on creating munitions. In truth, due to the amount of work you will no doubt have for them, the blueprints will pay for themselves rather quickly.

  Your main issue will be sourcing materials. Tungsten, for example, will become an problem very quickly given its prevalence in the advanced ammunition currently in use. Complex polymers are also required for some blueprints you’ll wish to purchase. You could buy missing materials with points of course, Mole-Bear alloys included.

  One of the new representatives piped up, proving their value. “Wait, we’re right next to the chemical factories! I bet we could get a ton of stuff from them! Hell, we could say ‘oh, we’ll get rid of your chemical waste in exchange for X or Y material’! I mean, tons of stuff we can also just buy with credits but still!”

  I beamed at them! “Fuck yes! Great idea. Alright, so we need a deconstruction engine, a few fabricators, the blueprints, how much would that be?”

  That discussion lasted a while, especially since there were a lot of fine points to hammer out as to which blueprints to buy. The whole thing would be insanely expensive, but this’d be a tangible investment into our future! The ability to not only equip the militia, but also produce samurai stuff without spending many points!

  I ended up getting blueprints to fabricate SMGs, ARs and shotguns of similar quality to what I bought before for the militia. Both the SMG and AR blueprints were large bore, which meant they could accept my esoteric ammo. Altany got clever with recoil systems that wouldn’t demand nearly as much crazy polymers! Good alien super-AI.

  We also came up with a good compromise side-arm. Large bore, to fit with my catalogues, but using cheap materials that the fabricators could turn into low-grade mole-bear alloys. The recoil systems were basic, but functional. Ammo would be enough to punch through soft body armor while still handling like 9mm. We argued over getting some that’d shoot normal rounds, to save on points if nothing else, but in the end we decided that getting something that worked better was worth more than fabricator-time. Really, they were side-arms, we didn’t expect to go through that many rounds.

  They’d oddly be the first thing we fabricated. Apparently, due to size and the ease of sourcing materials, the fabricators could create them in large batches! That would give everyone some cheap samurai tech to play with. It’d keep the militia happy.

  Add on top of that the ‘enforcer favorites’ ammo blueprints which we expected would pay themselves off rather quickly. Finally, lots of pieces of kit and uniforms and whatnots along with armor that could be made without the need to buy expensive alloys with points. We’d need three damn fabricators, but the price would be worth it!

  Still… I looked down the barrel of a 15500 points expenditure. Oh, and a token, because fuck me…

  ***

  Apparently, I fully forgot about the therapy stuff. Thank the mesh Robin reminded me. This building needed all the therapy! “So, Altany, what do you got?”

  A fully capable therapy AI that can serve the entire building will be a difficult task. Your ‘therapy lounge’ suggestion may be your best option. A therapy AI of sufficient complexity may still be able to communicate through text with patients at any time, which could be very impactful. This touches on another issue that must be addressed. The general state of electronics in this building is concerning. The net connection is still damaged and the security system is pitiful.

  Couldn’t argue with that. Johnny decided to pipe up. “I ain’t claimin’ to be an expert, but at least I got some software for guilt and stuff. That usable? I’ll cover the cost of security at least for inside, by the by.” Well, I wouldn’t argue with the sheriff on that one! Made sense for him to handle it and my points kept on dropping.

  According to Bytal, we could, partially. There are many criminals in the building at all times, which complicates things to a degree. Having alerts based on evidence of certain types of crimes could work. However, this would require a more extensive set of cameras along with a central server. Having the processing power to also run ‘friend-or-foe’ analysis will be important as these cameras will point outward as well.

  Johnny and I frowned. The therapy AI would probably need some strong shit to run, and the security server would require a lot of processing power. They’d need to be separate, since the security one should be airgapped. That meant two very powerful servers filled with samurai tech. Another point sink…

  At least Johnny decided to take care of the security stuff. To save on points, we’d have HFUGs and mounted guns we salvaged posted at the garages, aiming outward. The security systems would alert them if shooting was needed, then they’d have to target and track. Not the best but that’s what we could afford.

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  The therapy AI would communicate through text at all time and we’d have VR sessions for anyone that wanted. I had my eye on a location, but to serve the whole building I’d have to buy VR equipment and mesh-connection to handle lots of patients at the same time.

  We’d have to wait for more since, well, I was out of points.

  Actually, no, I still had over ten thousand, but I had a lot of new enforcers to equip with good stuff and train! That was after the stuff that would go to other things like the Cleanse to help ex-slaves with withdrawal, the project with Kirk, a buffer for emergencies and a sort of ‘casual’ spending budget. Nothing would go towards me, which kind of sucked, but hey, burden of responsibility…

  After that was done, I noped out of the meeting!

  Not my most responsible or proudest moment, but I had shit to do!

  Also, meetings are boring as hell and filled with… people. My favorite AI would fill in and tell me the important stuff later! It was fine!

  ***

  “Alright Altany, need you to record a message for the new people.” I said as I prepared myself mentally for my epic speech for the ages! I’d make it from the couch while eating some yogurt-like substance. Tasted like a raspberry air-freshener! Delicious.

  Ready.

  I took a deep breath. I could do this! “Heya boys and girls! This is your friendly neighborhood panda, coming to you with some news! As of now, everyone who used to live under Cobra Kai rule in this building is officially freed! If you were a slave, that’s handled. If you had debt with the gang? I probably killed whoever owned that debt!”

  “None of you owe shit to anybody. If you want to fuck off? I totally get it. You have complete freedom of movement and no one will stop you. Just know, our gang tax is twenty percent, we have education programs, the kind of security that can only be brought on by two god damn samurai, we’re working on physical and mental health care for everybody and we’re going to fix the water and HVAC systems, whole bunch of stuff!”

  “New rules for everybody? First, you fuck around, you find out. Second, forcing anyone to do anything they’re not comfortable with is going to end up with a very violent response from enforcers, militia, whoever’s closest. Third, if you’re the victim of something, just come and see the enforcers, or the deputies when we finally get that started. We ain't the cops, we actually give a shit. Fourth, congrats, we care about each other in your new territory. Try not to be an asshole, yeah? Panda out!”

  Message ended.

  I blinked dumbly for a few seconds. “That was fucking terrible. Like, bizarrely terrible. I’ve addressed large groups of people before, larger groups than that, even! I’ve sent messages to the entire fucking gang on several occasions! What the fuck happened there…”

  It is probably the specific situation since it is a new environment without pre-existing mental and social frameworks. Also, it exerted a different type of pressure than the one you excel under. Still, the unpolished nature will make it seem more genuine. I believe you would say ‘less corpo’.

  My ears stopped moving and twitching, standing straight up like spear tips on top of my head. “Altany, did you actually send that?”

  Yes.

  “Couldn’t a super intelligent AI with access to my god damn brain chemistry intuit that I didn’t want to send that?” I asked, shame and irritation building in my chest.

  Of course.

  “And you didn’t because…?”

  What makes you think I didn’t?

  ***

  I sat at the bar and… kept sitting there when I really shouldn’t. “You sure about her, Altany?” I asked, a bit nervous.

  According to the criterias you’ve put forward, yes.

  I sighed, then took another drink of the synthetic bourbon. It sort of tasted alright, the aroma didn’t smell too chemical. Alcohol usually helped with this sort of meeting.

  The bar had a dark atmosphere but the recent freedom given to every resident of this ex-Kai floor led to a much happier crowd. It was still a dive bar however. The gacha slot machines in the corner currently destroying someone’s life pointed that way at least. Hopefully the therapy AI had something for that.

  I kept my minimal armor well hidden, mostly just a layer of nano-grain alloy between me and a surprise bullet. I still had my weapons and helmet disassembled on my back and my tail wrapped around my waist.

  The only visible part came up my throat, just to make sure I didn’t get it slit. It could pass off as a throat implant probably!

  I had to ask Altany to turn off my super-ears since, well, they were a bit distinctive. They both sat immobile, folded on top of my head like two metal triangles following my hair back along my shaved sides.

  I found out a bit ago that my new augs could change color, so I tried out black sclera and glowing red irises. Did it make me look a bit demonic? Sure. Did I look both punk and hot as fuck? Oh yeah! Robin liked it, at least. Wouldn’t keep it after though, just a bit too dark.

  Perfect disguise mode, activated!

  Okay, with the high-grade ‘prosthetics’ and metal maybe I looked a bit bougie but… maybe just successful punk? Yeah! I could sell successful punk.

  No one would recognize me! Outside of the barman. Oh and any passing Bear-Yakuza, apparently. The patrolling militia and enforcers waved at me too –argh, I fucking sucked at subterfuge!

  I drank at this floor nineteen bar because a certain person sat at a booth nearby. They stared at their drink pensively for the past fifteen minutes. I knew that because I’d avoided doing what needed to be done for the past twenty minutes. Fuck.

  “Alright, I’m going in, please help me out if you can…” I said to Altany, nervous as fucking hell.

  That is unnecessary. You’ve done this type of recruitment before and know your own process, which seems to have yielded good results so far. Just treat them like you treated everyone else.

  That helped settle my nerves a bit, but not as much as I’d like. After transferring too many credits to the barman and pointing at one of the rare bottles of decent booze, he nodded and I yoinked it.

  A moment later, I sat in front of Marinia. Non-binary, pansexual, decently muscled with discreet breasts. They had nice grey eyes, dirty blond hair, and a mother fucking Kai tattoo on the arm…

  “Bottle for your thoughts?” I asked with a smile, making them startle.

  “Huh? Hum… Hi? Look buddy, I’m not looking for sex or any…” I didn’t let them finish.

  “Nah, just here to talk. You look like you need it.” Neither of those statements were lies. I did want to talk. “I’m Louis, what should I call you?”

  They blinked a bit in surprise but rallied. “I’m Marinia. What makes you think I want to talk?” They said with a suspicious frown. They had an odd, slightly hispanic accent, probably South-American.

  I chuckled. “‘Cause you’ve been nursing that drink for longer than I’ve been here, clearly.” I tossed back the remnants of my glass and poured another. My hand hovered with the bottle close to her glass, waiting for permission. It took them a while to realize but I received a nod. While pouring, I asked my question with a wry smile. “What’s got you down, new friend?”

  It took them a few seconds, but eventually they started talking. The decent booze helped. “I… used to be an enforcer for the Cobra Kais.” The ex-enforcer tensed for judgement or a bad reaction, but I just smiled kindly.

  That reaction clearly helped them continue. “I… I didn’t like it but… You know, I needed the money. Now… Well, enforcers aren’t the same here but at the same time I… I don’t know how to do anything else? It’s confusing. I don’t know what to do…” They slumped, finally letting out a huff.

  I didn’t judge them. I knew the feeling. “Since you could have left the building, I imagine you didn’t like it?” I asked, considering.

  “Fuck no! I mean, seriously, the stuff they had me do just… I don’t know what I would’ve done in the future and… you know…” They shuffled a bit and I nodded in response.

  “Yeah, I kinda do. Still, it’s good to say it out loud.” I admitted to their surprise.

  “I feared… becoming like them, you know? Like, if I stayed long enough, the bad stuff wouldn’t bother me anymore. My… ex-owner used to be a member. I owed a debt to the gang after I killed him. Fucker deserved it.” They said with distaste in their voice.

  “So, you didn’t have a choice but to join, I guess?” I asked, a bit confused.

  Marinia finished their drink and poured another. “Now I have two kids to take care of, there are all these jobs around but I don’t know how to do any of them and I… I don’t have what it takes to do anything else…” A fire of determination and rage blazed in their eyes for a second as they said, in a low, angry tone: “I will not be serving on my back ever again!”

  They seemed to come back to themselves after that. “Oh, shit, sorry this…”

  I interrupted. “Nah, it’s fine. My partner used to work in one of their brothels, don’t expect judgement from me. We have three kids and he’s wonderful with them. Wouldn’t have anyone else, catch? How’d you get out?” I tried to keep the conversation going. For some reason my slang got thicker even though my nanites fought off alcohol (over a certain amount, I still wanted to be able to relax).

  That booze tasted pretty good, some sort of woodsy, smoky thing that I didn’t really give a fuck to describe outside of just ‘good’. I didn’t know much about expensive liquor even though I’d stolen some decent bottles over the years.

  The memory of an old crate Francis, Felix, Donna, George and I stole hit me like a train, making my eyes water. The old scotch could’ve netted a tidy profit, but Felix had to test out the merchandise and convince us to do the same. Even though she didn’t help in the theft, Lila drank more than any of us! It’d pissed Felix off enough to start a fight and the idiot got his ass kicked.

  In less than a week, there wasn’t a single drop left.

  I rubbed circles with my thumb on the tumbler, playing with the condensation. My throat closed up a bit, but not enough to be noticed. “You alright bud?” Or not.

  Fucking hell, I really sucked at this! “Yeah, just… lost some friends in that incursion. That whiskey made me think of them…”

  Sympathy appeared on Marinia’s face, helping me calm down some. “I didn’t have anything to do with that but… Yeah, I still feel a bit responsible for my… my old gang’s actions.”

  I nodded in response, eyes staying firm on the glass. “I know the feel, no edge bottle buddy.” I said while pouring both of us another drink with a soft smile. “So, how’d you get free?”

  They snorted. “Oh yeah, the great escape. Fucker just bought me to be his to play with. Resulted in a couple children and eventually, a brutal murder.” Another sip followed. “My kids they… their sperm donor might’ve been a monster, but I don’t give a shit. I watched them for a while like the cunt might’ve infected ‘em somehow, but they’re both just… beautiful, shiny suns in my life. I fully get the others who abandon or give away their kids, I really do, but I just… didn’t feel that way. I love those little shits.” Their smile turned a bit wistful.

  Soon enough though, the brooding returned. “I… I’m not a good person, I’m sure of that, but I… I want to be a good person for them but I can’t fucking feed them! I got kidnapped at sixteen, and then I got the chance to be their puppet again but violent and now? Fuck… I don’t know what to do. The only thing I’ve done that’s not prostitution is hurt people. Doing it for the Kais… No, I can’t go back to them.”

  The poor fellow parent had tears in their eyes. I got the feeling. I remembered stealing from some dangerous corps to feed my kids. I had a chance to change their situation though. I could help them.

  I’d asked Altany to do a tough job: find potential enforcers. The selection process was… complicated. I couldn’t explain it. I needed to have a… feeling about somebody. I needed to meet and talk to that person. I needed to understand them, their motivation, what made them tick. All in all, this might be the fastest I’d ever gotten someone to open up. The fastest I’d been able to find what I looked for in an enforcer. Samurai instincts?

  Actually, good booze must have done most of the work.

  “You care.” I stated simply. They gave me a puzzled look. I could tell, I really could. They cared for their kids, sure, but something about them…

  I knew they could care for more.