I don't know if I'm just at the age where I can't put up with stupid or if it's real life pushing in. But I can't be Mean Mommy Mod any more. When this started it was a tiny group of like-minded fanatics, yes, fanatics. People who thought Samurai were the salvation of mankind. I thought most of them were crazy to be honest. I joined because I was wanted to ship Lover Doll and Kong, but couldn't find any stories online. Before I knew it I was doing research into the importance of fungus on tree root cultivation and getting angry at the people who had joined up just to be part of the scene just to tell their buddies they were an Operator. And god damn it that's what I was, who I'd been. I was a kid with wide-eyes and the delusion that I could help. That I could contribute.

Then one day, part of the nameless horde, I spotted a family of four on a video feed from a convenience store that had already partially collapsed. You know the type of feed I'm talking about. The one no one watches unless they show up to the party late and the top-ops are handing out the lowest priority shit. But it's a live feed, so I watched. Then I saw them. Quick and dirty and terrified. Four humans in the worst moments of their life. I was so fucking nervous when I submitted it up the chain. Not six minutes later, landing in a tornado of dust and debris it's Lover Doll herself. No audio but it's clear she was screaming at them to jump in. Then she shot out of frame in that hot rod of a ride.

It. Change. My. Life.

I'd saved people from my desk chair half a world away.

Like most of you, my life doesn't matter much. If I'm shot in the head tomorrow the world will go on without a notice or a care. But those four people lived because I stared at a bad video feed showing rubble for a couple of hours. I was hooked.

Over time the community exploded and I found myself in a mod role on the forums, something no one wants to do. And I don't feel like what I do matters anymore. It feels like the Operators that matter are the ones monitoring or directing active incursions and the rest of us are just in a giant circle-jerk arguing over our own cleverness. Has even one Samurai even heard of these guides we work so hard on. Has a single one ever used the information and warnings we compile? That we spend thousands of man hours arguing over and putting through committee, engineering review, environmental review, political review, and combat effectiveness, just to name the big ones? I find myself moderating an argument between two ornithologists over the size of the holes in bird houses that will never fucking be manufactured anyway. (and not to put this on Blue_bird_69 and RedWing, the discussion has merit. Is it better to cultivate the invasive species to fill the niche or try to save the displaced one?) But I have real life repercussions for all the time I put into these forums. Repercussions, that for a time in my life I could justify as doing something that mattered. I no longer feel that way.

Except from JoJo's "Fuck you I'm out" post on Operator Forums.

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I grabbed three of the PMC soldiers.

"You're with me. Inform your commander. I want you posted up around this tent. I need about five hours to go through some planning. Your job is to inform people I'm not to be disturbed. To the point where you draw your weapons and fire into the ground if need to to make your point. If I'm disturbed, and it's not another Samurai who has disabled your weapons, it is not going to end well for you. Now look me in the eye and tell me you understand."

Two older men and a young man, and none of them looked happy about this.

Once inside I glanced around, really hoped no one needed any of the boxes of paperwork contained with in.

"Max how does this four hour thing work? Do I have to fall asleep or what?"

"When you are ready let me know and I will begin. You do not need to be asleep."

"But you are going to move my brains around or something?"

"twenty-two percent of your brain matter has already been removed. Over the four hours that brain mass will be regrown and I will do my best to reinstitute the necessary connections. There is a very high confidence this will return you to the state you were before your injury."

"How high?"

"In percentages it is estimated you will be 99.9993%"

"That's- that's really close right?" I asked.

"It is. Athletes experience more damage in a weekend of high impact sports than you will have sustained when it is over."

I knelt then laid down on the ground.

"I'm ready to begin."

The sun jumped. I was staring at the top of the tent and the sun's light shifted. There wasn't darkness or time missing or anything.

"It is done. It was a success."

I let out a shuddering breath and sat up. As I did so I realized I did a proper sit-up style movement, instead of the old-man half-roll to the side and push myself up I'd been doing the last three or four years.

"Am I the oldest samurai?"

"No."

"Thank you gentlemen," I said when I exited and saw Sara getting up from where she'd been seated on the ground, "You may report back to your commander."

"Max can I get two of those juice box things. Chilled."

I lifted my hands and they dropped into them. I handed one to Sara who promptly jabbed the straw in and took a drink. Pleasure and relaxation washing over her for a moment.

"The brain damage is healed. Whatever stupid shit I do now I have no excuse for," I said.

She didn't smile, but she nodded.

"Medical has used all of the supplies you provided and are still using the drones. I allowed them to stay until you recall them."

"They need more equipment?"

"They do, and I have a list," she paused, did something and Max put the list up so I could see it, "but I wanted to speak to you about that. Instead of buying items, all of JoJo's guides suggest printers. 'Only in times of combat, when a Samurari has failed to plan ahead, should they resort to buying gear on the spot.'"

The last bit felt like she was repeating a quote.

"Who is JoJo?"

"One of the first Operators. Back when Operators were a joke and didn't actually do anything other than theory craft. Mostly they helped keep the peace on the forum. JoJo was considered the Mom who had to wrangle all the kids. It was a thankless job but they did it for a long time. Then they quit, called out all the bullshit and the in fighting and left a fairly famous guide with the title-" Sara paused. She shrugged a moment later.

"I can't find the original title, but it was titled something like, "JoJo's why fucking make a title for something no Samurai is ever going to read- An Operators guide to de-stupefying Samurai decisions for the benefit of humanity."

"Is there like a quick version of the guide?" I asked.

Sara smiled.

"First page actually," she said.

Max put the first page up.

Samurai Cheat Sheet - Explanations in Guide

COMBAT

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

When in combat - be in combat. Don't think about efficiency or saving points.

Priority 1 : Survival of the Samurai. (you can't help anyone if you're dead)

Priority 2 : Slowing / Destroying Anthesis. (This is why you exist. Embrace the suck. Do what others cannot.)

Priority 3 : Protect humanity. Save who you can as you can. Realize this is 3rd for a reason. When in combat be in combat.

Non-Combat

Priority 1 : Prepare for combat, this is why you exist.

Priority 2 : Force multiplier. Help other projects get past red tape. Force corps to build safe rooms. Make combat easier.

Priority 3 : Force multiply production. Rome conquered the world not because it had armies, but because those armies had roads. Build the infrastructure that helps humanity survive.

Priority 4 : Spend points wisely. Printers, printing printers.

"I assume the guide is much longer?" I asked.

"Guides. JoJo's exit was a sort of wake up call, a shit or get off the pot moment for the movement. From their first guide, which thousands of suggestions and edits have been made. Other guides popped up. How to avoid economic disasters when trying to regreen sections of the world, or how to feed people better. When you get into bed with corporations to offload workloads and when do do things yourself. There is a four hundred page guide on the necessity of maintaining the sewage systems, and a fifteen hundred page guide on dealing with PMCs."

"Is there a 'Samurai for dummies' guide?"

"Of course," she said and a moment later Max was showing me the cover.

"Fuck," I said softly.

"How much have I fucked up already?"

"Never go backward," Sara said stepping closer, "always forward. It's not- 'how I fucked up,' but 'what I can do better in the future?'"

"So a lot?" I asked.

"It has not been ideal."

"Right so what do I do next?" I asked.

"They are clearing the sewers out still. You should be involved in that, if for no other reason than to gain more points. The incursion pods and initial hives have been destroyed. Ninja Girl, the other new Samurai changed her name again, is clearing the city alone. I suggest we go with PMC and Rez troops. Five of each. That makes us twelve strong. Large enough to protect you, and small enough to maneuver."

"Don't you think you'd be better off meeting up with Paula and the others."

"My duty is clear to me. That's to keep you alive, and if you'll have it, to advise."

"And if I sent you away?"

"Then do my best to point out why that is a poor decision as it regards the survival of the human race."

"The human race?" I said with a joking smile. She had no humor in her response.

"You are Vanguard now," she said seriously, "you are the point of the spear and the blunt of the shield. You are humanity's hope. There is no greater purpose I could aspire to than in helping you fulfill that role, for on your back humanity survives, or dies."

My smile slipped.

I looked out and around at the tent city that had sprung up. All of the tents were taller than I was so from my perspective it appeared I was lost in a maze.

"Get the soldiers, then meet up with me. I'm going to find where I left that gun."

"I have it here," she said providing me with a location on an bird's eye map that included the tent city.

"I'll meet you there," I said.

"Max," I said as I walked, "Do we still have drones in the air?"

"Yes. They have landed for recharge multiple times, one is scheduled for return and recharge in nine minutes."

"Let me see a map of the area, put the overlay of the xenos on it, in real time if we have it. Patch me into one of the Operators if they are still working the area."

"They are, I'm connecting you to Rose DeCovy, whom Sara spoke with during the incursion."

A video window opened in front of me. She was mostly transparent. Then there was a click. I heard the scrape of the pen as she wrote. The camera showed her sitting at a desk, two open notebooks in front of her. I was bad with races, and mixed races were harder. Brazilian maybe? I couldn't tell.

"Rose?" I asked.

Her head lifted and she glanced behind her, then squinted at her screen.

"Yes Samurai, how can I help you?" she said calmly. Touching a button on the desk as she spoke. Then she released the button and slapped a flat round bit of metal on the cubicle wall beside her. A red flag on a spring was released and shot up.

"Glen River incursion," I said hoping to remind her, "You spoke with Sara before,"

"Yes sir?" she said. People were gathering behind her as, soundlessly to me, her fingers flew over the keyboard in front of her as she stared at whatever was plastered below the camera. Tired faces surrounded her. Someone began clearing her desk, removing tea cups and plastic plates.

"We are headed back into the sewers for clean up. I'd appreciate any intel you can work up for us."

"Of course sir. What's your entry point?"

"We are forming up now. I'm going to pass you off to my Max, my AI."

"Of course sir," she said.

"Can we hear them?" I asked Max. She didn't answer but background sounds picked up.

I could hear the room now, even when she wasn't pushing the button. People were calling out grid positions and locations of the scavenger groups that were already spreading throughout the city.

"Have Sara link up with them as well," I told Max, "and I don't want that on screen it will be a distraction."

It blinked away.

"Any advice on gearing up before we go in?"

"Of course. Of greatest concern is projections from the Model fives. I suggest a robust armor, or mobile shield wall. The shield wall is both the cheaper option and offers the most protection but it would likely have to be abandoned in a rapid escape scenario."

"How much does the-" I paused. I was going to ask for cost. I didn't even know how many points I had.

"How many points do I have?"

"You have three thousand, forty-two points, and three tokens remaining."

"Tokens?"

"You've earned five but spent two on Class Two catalog unlocks."

"Right I remember that." And I sort of did. It had been when we were injured. It was something to heal us.

"Is this a lot?"

"No."

It seemed like everything I bought was a hundred points or less, but I'd seen video of real Samurai's doing fly-bys and killing streets full of xenos. But I was in combat, and the guide said don't worry about points worry about survival. That seemed like good advice to me.

"Show me the armor and the shield wall things. Do I need to buy any more catalogs to unlock either or its just points?"

"You asked me to suggest things in catalogs you already owned several hours ago, would you like to change that directive?"

"I mean I don't want to fuck myself over because I'm restricting myself but I also don't want to drown in choices or spend all day picking apart details."

"These are the options."

The shield wall things were like small armored carts with tiny robot arms to mount weapons on. The armor looked like some bulky armor the PMCs might wear. Why the fuck expose yourself to acid, quills and everything else if you didn't have to.

"So these shield wall things seem ideal for the sewers," I said, "what am I missing?"

"For the man-made sewer environment these are the better choice, but only because they are operating in enclosed tunnels were a majority of the time threats are limited to in front of or behind you. While diggers are a threat, the armor offers less protection with more mobility. Yet digging models will still circumvent the most basic protections."

"And the advice for diggers?"

"Mapping devices, active location tracking, and lures."

"Explain lures to me," I said, finally standing up. The heavy belt, extra ammo, and grenades back in place. The gun was heavy, but on the strap over my shoulder it was balanced. I couldn't even remember what it was called. It had some sort of seeking explosive ammo though so all I had to do was not shoot the soldiers around me and the bullets would zip out and find their own targets.

There was a man standing guard near the gear and he saluted as I stood up. He'd saluted as I approached and I had a moment to doubt if I should salute back or not.

Sara was jogging up, seven men following her.

"The other three are gearing up and will meet us at the entrance," she said seriously.

"Max can I get a basic med kit for everyone. Twelve count I guess."

"How basic? Class 0 items? Class 1? Class 2?"

"The blood makers, wound stop stuff, the nano-regenerative thing. The super-meth stuff. The detox stuff to clear the super-meth out, bandages, anti-virals or whatever, and I guess Masks, with some sort of oxygen backup if there isn't any in the air."

Everything appeared a moment later in a large plastic chest.

"Med-packs and masks. The goal here is that everyone who goes in comes out alive," I said as the last three jogged up and joined us. They had larger backpacks.

"Sara will be second in command. From there it goes-"

"Max help me out please," I subvocalized.

Names appeared near people's heads and Max even had the foresight to alternate PMC and Rez soldiers.

I read them off by name, as well as pointed.

"We are going to enter the sewers, and then clear it out. We will be using this nanite powder shit to melt the literal flesh off the xenos. We don't want to waste it but we want to use enough. You'll get the hang of it. I don't expect a lot of fighting, but when there is fighting I expect it to be violent and fast. We will have mobile shield walls. Use those for cover. Do not risk your life. Max let's set them up with some better ammo too. Alternate the magazines with incendiary and explosive please."

"From an efficiently perspective it is better to fire incendiary and swap to explosive when needed."

"Okay, do that."

"Let's get moving. Did Rose suggest an, um, insertion point?" I asked Max.

"She did. It is a good enough place to start."

"Tell her she did well, and put the path up," I said. We'd worked out a way to display where I should be going during the incursion as well as ways to indicate relevant information. Mostly Max calculated where everyone else was firing and then gave me red areas to fire at while keeping all our allies painted neon green.

"Shall I tap into cameras and feeds again?" Max asked.

"Yup," I said as we walked. I had realized when it came to privacy I was a hypocrite. I had strong opinions about the right to privacy, including 'Your Augs, Your Data,' corpos and other groups should not be able to buy aug feeds, even anonymized. And yet in combat I'd asked for better data and Max had suggested tapping into the soldiers feeds. Soldiers that were looking in all directions. It honestly hadn't occurred to me at all up until that point. I was thinking more drones or whatever.

I hadn't even hesitated.

I didn't see anything change with my head's up display, but I assume she had tapped into the augs.

"Max. That offer we give to everyone else I'm coming into contact with about the hardening and patching their augs. Can you extend that to the network of operators helping us out. There are several Samurai who regularly check and upgrade the software of operator augs but I will inquire."

"Oh," I said slowly, "And Max-"

"Yes?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"I'll take any advice you can come up with please. I feel like I have to be a duck in the river, legs going a hundred miles per hour and still at the mercy of the rapids, and I'm not sure I've got the legs for it."