"One unexpected consequence of the Antithesis invasion was a brief resurgence of people living a desert nomad lifestyle. Sadly, it turned out that the Antithesis weren't afraid of the desert, they were just uninterested until there was food there. Namely, the nomads."
-An Early History of the Antithesis Era, 2055
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With the Antithesis having ceased their attacks for the moment, there was little for me to do, so I returned to the PMC headquarters for lunch. I barely got to eat anything for breakfast, so I was positively ravenous at this point. The cafeteria was crowded with men and women that had just rotated off the front lines during the lull in combat, but I had an excess of points right now, so I just sat down and ordered something through Juny.
I had barely managed to remove my helmet before a pair of trays hit the table across from me, followed by two familiar soldiers taking a seat. I recognized them from the morning briefing as the laughing girl and the fanboy that were with Alana, and they wasted no time introducing yourself.
“Hey there Spartan! I’m Specialist Haley Brown, and this dork is SPC Jamal Silverton. Mind if we join you?” the woman asked, though she had already shoved a spoonful of grits into her own mouth before I could answer. Jamal gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Sure…?” I replied unnecessarily, the both of them having already begun to eat. I popped some kind of alien tater tot into my mouth, not entirely sure what else to say to them.
“Sorry about her…uh, ma’am?”
“Erica is fine.”
“I saw that building go down! That was so cool. How’d you do it? I don’t think even I carry enough C4 to bring down a skyscraper like that, and my vest is full of it. Or maybe I do. I’ve never tried. I think I’d have to see the foundations to be sure. Do you like my vest? The LT bought it for me, I named it the Velcro Vest of Doom,” Haley rattled off, opening several Velcro pouches on her vest to reveal entire bricks of C4. It was a bit alarming that she was carrying that much explosives just to eat lunch.
“…they let her handle explosives?” I asked Jamal with a raised eyebrow as Haley went off into her own little world, detailing the extensive list of explosives her vest contained. The woman was carrying enough material that I wouldn’t feel safe within two city blocks of her.
“She’s a savant. The other day I watched her rip a chunk of C4 off, slap it onto the bottom of a car, and launch it into a pack of Model Threes.” Jamal took a moment to chew a beef stick, a dead look in his eyes. “She predicted the number of times the car would flip before it hit them. It was four.”
I eyed the talkative woman, no less wary but maybe a bit more respectful of her abilities now. Hell, she was probably a better shot than me too, not that that was saying much. I supposed she did have some degree of training, or she wouldn’t be here at all, much less working for Alana directly.
“To answer the question, I didn’t use explosives. I bought some alien tech that disintegrated the support pillars.”
“Hey, do you have a Samurai name yet?” Haley asked, her interest shifting the moment she knew explosives weren’t involved..
“Uh, no, I’ve only been one for like. A week. I think another Samurai has to give it to me.”
“Awww, that’s too bad, I could’ve given you a great name. Like Blaster Chief, or Azure Sentry, or The Wrecking Ball!”
“Those names are absolutely awful,” Jamal cut in. Haley gave him the stink eye for a moment before shifting back to me.
“Hey, do you dual wield like the ones in the games? I saw you’ve got two SMGs, I bet you’d look awesome shooting them at the same time.”
“Sort of. I can hold them both at once but I can’t aim two guns at the same time, so it’s mostly to maintain a constant stream of fire and reload one while I use the other.” This conversation was jumping from point to point faster than a Super Smash Bros fight, but I decided to just go with the flow.
“I wonder if there’s some Samurai tech that would let you do that. Like an independent arm brain like in octopi.”
“There is!” Juny interjected, speaking for the first time through her Eyebot’s speakers. Haley launched herself out of her seat as the Eyebot’s camouflage deactivated abruptly and it bounced into the air from somewhere behind me. Honestly, I’d almost forgotten it was there myself, but I was used to Juny cutting in by now, so I just kept eating. “All you need is a Bonus Brain series implant. I recommend the Mk IV, which you can buy with a Class I Combat Augmentations catalogue. It will allow you to operate your arms independently with about 90% efficiency with no side effects like Alien Hand Syndrome.”
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“That sounds so cool! You should totally buy it like, right now. Oh, can you install it right now? The LT only installs new stuff with a medic present,” Haley plopped back into her seat, her shock forgotten in favor of the shiny new topic.
“Y’know what? Sure, why not. How much will it cost me, Juny?”
“The catalogue is 100 points, and the implant is 400.”
“It costs more than the entire Eyebot? Whatever, I’ve got the points. Do it.”
Class I Combat Augmentations unlocked!
Points reduced to... 6593
New Purchase: Bonus Brain Mk IV
Points reduced to...6193
A small box appeared on the table next to my food. Directions were drawn directly onto the box, and just showed a chibi version of myself jabbing the injector into my neck. For a moment I questioned why it was an injector instead of a patch this time, but then I concluded it was probably for dramatic effect.
I was a bit giddy at the idea of adding functional dual wielding to my capabilities, but a part of me wanted to maintain my (presumed) image, so I tried to look as casual as possible as I retrieved the injector and pressed it to my neck. I couldn’t suppress a wince as it jabbed me, which was followed by the same brain freeze as the last time I added a suite to my augs. When it passed, I felt…exactly the same as I did before, but I probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference until I tried to use it.
“That was kind of underwhelming,” Haley commented as she munched on a bread stick.
“Don’t be rude,” Jamal shot back.
“Eh, at least she won’t be asking about it anymore,” I told him, looking at the silver lining. “Want the box as a souvenir?” I asked with a bit of amusement. Haley made an excited noise and snatched it almost faster than I could follow, squirreling it away in one of her many pockets as if afraid I would change my mind. Despite his general veneer of annoyance, I thought I saw a hint of amusement in Jamal as well, and I supposed that if he really did find her antics aggravating he wouldn’t be hanging around her.
“Do you have any other body mods?” Jamal asked.
“Not yet. I haven’t really had the points until less than an hour ago. I’m probably going to want the full Spartan set eventually- reaction time, tougher bones, strength. Not sure what else there is, since I haven’t considered it all that much.” I carefully picked up another tater tot. It was harder than it looked while wearing the suit; since I didn’t directly control the fingers, I had to be very precise not to crush them.
“Maybe you should get something for healing…assuming that’s your blood, that is.”
I glanced down, remembering the number of injuries I sustained in the tunnels. The Dainsleif’s functions had already repaired the punctures, and had probably reduced the bleeding a lot, but there was still quite a bit of dried blood mixed with dust and dirt clinging to the body suit and armor itself. After arriving covered in blood yesterday, I was probably picking up some nicknames with the word ‘Bloody’ in them by now.
“…Juny, please remind me to clean my armor before I eat next time.”
“That’s what you’re concerned about? Doesn’t it hurt?”
“You get used to it,” I told Jamal, deadened to the fear of pain by the point. There was probably a trauma there I should address in VI therapy. Eventually. “Anyway, the nano inhalers usually do the job just fine. It’s not like I can injured that much.”
“You actually average at least one serious injury per battle!” Juny chipped in unhelpfully.
“Whose side are you on!?”
“The side of fewer injuries! I recommend an internal nanite reservoir to address the issue. This would save time on healing.”
“Oh, you should get impenetrable skin, like Luke Cage!” Haley contributed.
“Hey, yeah, how much would that cost?” I asked Juny.
“Nothing is impenetrable, but a Class II skin replacement may be enough to minimize damage from Tier I and II Antithesis projectiles! All you would need to do is avoid injuries for two days!”
“Oh, so it’s not happening, then…at least, not until we lift the siege,” I said, acknowledging the obvious. No way was I avoided injury while actively fighting.
“I suggest not getting hit!”
I almost gave a retort to that, but it occurred to me that Juny had kept her Eyebot undamaged even when a Model Fifteen turned me into a pincushion, so I kept my mouth shut. Also, it was probably a genuine suggestion, not sarcasm, knowing her.
“Should I assume any other upgrade I make would have the same caveat?” I asked instead.
“Technically, no! If you also purchase a surgical suite, you can have the entire upgrade done all at once, rather than gradually.”
“Should we really be here for this conversation…?” Jamal cut in. I shrugged. It’s not like I was going to make any final decisions on any of this right now. We were in a lull, but the battle was ongoing. I didn’t have time to put myself under the knife right at this very moment.
“It’s all hypothetical anyway. I don’t want to be in surgery the next time there’s an attack. It’d be faster to just upgrade my gear, but I also don’t have time to design the next suit, and it’d be a shame to just replace this one the day I bought it.”
“It does look pretty beat up, though.”
He wasn’t wrong. The plating had held up so far, but numerous scratches and divots decorated it already. One of the pauldrons was heavily dented, and there was a deep rent in the chest plate I assumed a Model Nine had left at some point.
“What will you do with it when you get a new one?” Hayley asked. With anyone else I’d assume they were fishing, but she just seemed genuinely curious.
“Not sure. Maybe keep it as a spare, maybe let Alana decided who gets it. I don’t really have anyone I trust that needs a suit of power armor, but she’s a samurai, so I can probably trust her to use it wisely?”
Abruptly, a new voice cut in, sharp as a knife.
“Madam Samurai?” a man said from behind me. The mercenaries I was speaking to both went pale. I glanced behind me to expecting an angry superior officer like Thompson, and I wasn’t wrong, but I also wasn’t quite right.
Standing behind me was a tall man whose good looks were ruined by a nasty scowl. Rather than fatigues or a dress uniform, he was adorned in uniform trousers and a scrub top.
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Radcliffe, chief medical officer for this unit. We need to talk.”