In the end, it takes another few minutes for Anaideis to talk me into using this fucking thing, and even then I only do so because I’m worried of passing out if I wait any longer. Thankfully, it’s not as bad as I feared; the initial stab kind of sucks, and I pointedly ignore the feeling of things shifting inside me, but a moment later Anaideis informs me that it has successfully ‘latched’, and I can pull my shirt down again. I do so, though not before chucking the empty cartridge-thing across the room, just to be petty.

After that, she talks me into getting something else, a ‘Nano-regenerative suite’ (15 more points), with the promise that it’s a non-invasive way to deal with my aches and pains- as well as my perforated ear drums. That turns out to be modelled on an inhaler, so I can use it with minimal guidance. I’m slightly excited by this one, to be honest. I mean, come on, it’s nano-machines- nanites that will fix my hearing, that’s pretty fucking cool.

After that, all I am gonna need is half an hour to rest and to let the various things do their work, and then I can be back on the front lines, apparently.

First, though, we’re going to need a little talk. After all, while my memory of the last hour is admittedly shakey, I don’t particularly remember agreeing to be on the front lines.

I obviously can’t see an expression on the AI when I point this out, but I get the distinct impression that she nods soberly.

An excellent point, Vanguard. My creators, the Protectors, would like to extend an apology to you, for the rather one-sided manner in which you were chosen as one of your world’s champions. Our analysis of Earth over the last few years has indicated that consent is an important part of your culture.

I cough. This doesn’t feel like a great time to get into the failures of humanity’s practice of consent. “Sure, I mean, an apology is great and all, but like. You’ve still made the decision for me, right?”

Anaideis hums, noncommittally. To an extent, certainly, but this is a very open role you have been given. There is no specific job description attached. Although your planet is still in the early stages of adapting to the Antithesis threat, already plenty have chosen to diverge from what we might call the ‘traditional’ role of the Vanguard; many take on secondary support roles instead. There are even those who have decided to retire from the role completely, though they are admittedly rarer. My point is, you are not required to act the Vanguard forever, Jet Galleani.

I’m still working out how I want to reply to that, when Anaideis hums again- quizzically, this time.

Jet Galleani. Jet Galleani… I want to ask her why she’s repeating my name, but she’s speaking again, and something in her voice is- different. How… Interesting.

The words send a strange shiver through me. Up until now, the AI has been, well- professional, precise. A little patronising, but bearable. This voice, however, is different. It’s still clearly her, but her entire manner has shifted.

You know, Jet, I had wondered about you. You’re not quite what I expected you to be. Not all of the pieces quite… Fit.

One time when I was a kid, and secretly up watching late-night TV, I happened to catch an episode of the L Word. It remains one of my cherished little gay awakenings- even if I didn’t know it at the time. I remember furtively buying a box-set of the first couple seasons, hiding it from my parents, even if I didn’t quite know why at the time. Something about the whole thing just… captivated me.

My favourite character on that show, the one I kept close to my heart, was Shane- her voice, her whole attitude, it just, it did something, deep in my silly little gay brain.

And now Anaideis is speaking in that same voice. Not deep, exactly, but- low. Husky; sultry.

I think I’ve got a better handle on you now. I shiver, and I hear her smirk. Yes, that’s more like it. I suppose you’re wondering exactly what I’ve learned?

“I, I,” I try to reply, but I can’t formulate a proper question. Just- how? How does she know?

Well, my dear Jet, the answer to that is fairly simple. It probably doesn’t surprise you to learn that when we considered you as a candidate, we did a background check on you. However, it seems that it was somewhat… incomplete. Or, at least, my own was- what the Protectors saw, I can only guess.

She hums, gently, sending sparks down my spine. But, being the curious sort, I decided just now to do a detailed background scan, and I snagged on something that helped me decipher your little enigma. More specifically, I identified your criminal record.

I freeze. As much as I am enjoying this shift in tone, that sends warning bells through me. “But, I. I got those records expunged? How could you-”

She laughs; a raspy, barking sound. Oh, sweetheart. It was a valiant effort- certainly enough to miss at a cursory glance. But I’m afraid that, as a level twelve artificial intelligence, it would be rather difficult to hide something like that from me once I start paying attention. You changed names legally just after you got out, didn’t you? Before, you were-

“Nope!” I interrupt, and I can feel her surprise. I continue, more quietly: “Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it, ever again.”

But why would- performing a cultural analysis. Oh. She pauses, and when she resumes, I can hear guilt in that new voice of hers. Oh, I understand. I will… Purge that information from my memory vaults. My apologies.

Somewhat mollified, I nudge her onwards. “So, you found my, uhm. Record?”

Indeed. You were quite the little agitator, hmm? I’m amazed they allowed you to expunge those particular offences. I can’t quite tell if she’s admonishing me, or if she’s impressed.

“Uh, yeah. I mean, I spent my time behind bars well, I guess. Managed to finish my SATs, did any training they’d let me take, basically. It wasn’t easy, but… Well, I guess the judge thought I was a changed gal, after. Which is rare.”

I probably don’t need to elaborate on the obvious reasons for that. I’m white, and from a well-off family, even if we’re estranged. That sort of thing makes more of a difference than people want to admit.

Anyway, that still doesn’t explain… “Uhm. And the voice?”

Oh, that? I can tell Anaideis is very amused. That’s easy. I found your Tumblr account.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Well. Fuck.

The other her- voice, whatever- had worked… well enough. She fit with the sort of colleagues or constituents I was used to dealing with, crisp and precise, with just that edge of condescension. In other words, anyone in politics.

But I have to admit that this alternative is much more agreeable to the real me- a real me I don’t need to choke back, for the first time in years. It makes me feel like I can actually talk to her, as a peer, I suppose. “So, uhm, what are you, exactly?”

Anaideis pauses a moment, before replying. Well, I assume you followed my earlier explanation, though I admit I did rush through it a little. I am a grade-twelve artificial intelligence, created by the confederation of species that you know as the Protectors. I exist to aid you in the fight against the Antithesis.

“I mean, sure, I get that,” I mumble, “but like. You’re assigned to me, specifically? Have you been like, sent to Earth, then?”

Soft amusement. My dear Jet, I am inside your head.

I let out a deeply undignified noise, something like ‘gnurk’- plenty of question marks implied. “In my head?!”

She laughs, again, that rasping sound. Yes. To be clear, no, I do not mean you are delusional- I have quite literally been inserted within you, adjacent to your temporal lobe and brainstem.

“That’s, uhm, huh,”

I feel something my brain can only interpret as lips, pressed up against my ear. I can almost feel the flutter of warm breath on my earlobe. Which means I am yours, and yours alone. Jet Galleani.

She chuckles as I flush pink. Well. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“Ooookay, so. I’m a vanguard now. Chosen herald of your… Protectors, and all that?”

Not quite. Herald you may be, but though you access their tools, you are not beholden to my creators. You are a champion for humanity, alone.

I mull over that for a moment. It should be quite a weighty thing to hear, but truthfully my inner pre-teen is just squealing in excitement. “And in practice that looks like… Killing aliens, and getting rewarded for it?”

Something like that. You receive points for eliminating Antithesis, points which you can spend to unlock catalogs, and acquire their contents.

I nod. “How much were the earlier ones worth? And how much do I have left?”

You eliminated one Model Four, and four Model Threes. A Model Four is worth fifteen points, and the Model Threes are worth ten each. Thanks to your previous expenses, you have 27 points left.

“Okay. That’s not enough for any catalogs, is it?”

Well, there are approximately seven million catalogs, but none within your price range are both combat-oriented and useful.

I blink. “That many?”

They represent all of the combined accomplishments of dozens of civilizations. So, yes?

Well, that’s heady, but not particularly relevant. I try to focus. “Okay. Good to know. So, what now?”

A good question, Jet. Indeed, what now? It’s your decision.

Oh, uh. Right, champion of humanity, huh?

“Well… Olivia and the Mayor are in the panic room, still. I’d like to make sure she survives, at least? But I don’t think they’ll last long if I’m meant to escort them through a war zone to get them out, and the generator in there doesn’t have power to call for help.”

As it happens, that’s a simple fix. A basic universal power source is one of the few things in the generics list all Vanguard have access to- though by its nature, it’s quite weak. It should be good for a hundred kilowatt-hours or so. More than sufficient to send a distress call.

I have no reference for how much that is, but if Anaideis says it’s enough, I guess I trust her. Still… “Would anyone even answer?”

Jet, darling, I think you underestimate your value. Your Mayor wouldn’t warrant an extraction team. You, however, are a VIP. If you wish, you could take refuge with the others, and I am quite certain you will be recovered within twenty four hours.

I think about that. I could hide away, wait all this out. I mean, it’s tempting, even with the risk of bigger monsters showing up, but on the other hand…

“No, I’d. Prefer to fight my way out, I think. As soon as I can?”

You may be an unusual choice, Anaideis notes, but you’re certainly a Vanguard.

Her tone is smug, and I choose not to burst her bubble. Really, I mostly just don't want to be locked in a room with Melon Usk for any longer than I have to be.

Instead, I change the subject. "Okay so, I have like. Twenty-five-ish points, and three catalogs to spend them in, right?"

If you count the generics as one, yes, Anaideis confirms. Medical utilities, and rudimentary CQB.

“Right,” I murmur, kneading my eyes with my palms as I try to think. “That’s the one I got the shotgun from, and the mace?”

Correct. I decided that suited your needs best, at the time. I apologise for deciding without your input, but given the rather emergency situation I thought it best to proceed with haste. I did try to choose a cheap one.

“Okay, so, if I’m going to gear up and… Get back to fighting aliens- god that’s so weird to say- that’s the only one I’m going to get weapons from?”

Exactly, darling. Your next choice of catalog is your own- though, and I hear a smirk in her voice, given what I’ve gleaned from your records, I would personally propose Class I Explosives.

Hah. She gets me. But, right, okay, whether I choose to indulge that is a choice for future Jet. I have like twenty minutes before I can even think about getting back out there; it’s best to consider what options are available to me right now. “Can you tell me what that CQC catalog covers? It’s rather vague.”

Of course. That’s intentional- as a catalog, you could say it’s broad, but shallow. If I knew anything about your particular fighting style, a more niche catalog would have much more advanced options. Anaideis’ voice conveys just a touch of frustration. At the time, however, I had little data to work from; just your employee search history.

“Mm. Wait, wh- uhm, never mind. Okay, so it’s close combat stuff, so just melee weapons?- no, wait, I got a gun from it, so- oh, oh!” I interrupt myself before Anaideis can explain it to me. “It’s a compact shotgun. One handed grip. Mainly useful within 20 metres, otherwise known as…”

Close-quarters. Indeed. For the same reason, rudimentary machine pistols are also included, as well as various other handgun designs. Largely, they are all expected to be used as secondary weapons in melee.

“Right, of course. Well, I’ll keep them in mind, as an option.” There’s no way I’m not taking a machine pistol. They’re so cool. “What else is available?”

Few projectile weapons that could compare, though if you’re going to keep with your shotgun, might I suggest some ear defenders from the generic catalog? As for melee weapons, the major weapons categories are edged weapons, polearms, and blunt trauma weapons. May I suggest something?

“Sure thing. And, that’s a yes on the ear defenders.” A small box appears in front of me, and one point disappears.

A simple spear might be highly effective. I am aware that in your modern culture, they’re often looked down upon, but my analysis indicates that they were ubiquitous for much of history for good reason. They have range, and they’re deadly; perhaps most importantly, dear, they’re the easiest melee weapon to use without training. So long as you can keep your grip on it, the Model Threes will practically spear themselves.

I mull that over. I mean, it’s not a bad argument, but it feels very… generic. Not exactly me. I mean, sure, I don’t particularly want to get myself killed by focusing too much on aesthetics or whatever, but at the same time, it’d be nice if there was a melee weapon that suited- wait a minute. There’s an idea. “Anaideis. Did your background check on me extend to my athletic history?”

Of course, but- oh. I believe I follow, dear. Yes, I can work with that.

I grin. Sure, it’s been a while since juvie league, but I bet I still have a mean swing.

New Purchase: Basic Titanium Bat Point Cost: 3. Points reduced to… 23.