Chapter Seventy-One - Tail

“The average pre-Invasion soldier had two and a half months of basic training. A lot of that was spent with whatever the standard arms of the time were. Then they would receive advanced training on the use of various specialty arms.

In peacetime, that training could go on for months (with the training of more specialized troops spread over a year or more), perfecting their use of a particular weapon or weapons platform until they reached a level of base competency.

Modern PMCs vary greatly. Some give week-long crash-training courses, similar to the training pre-invasion police received in some parts of the former United States. Others have training that lasts for upwards of six months before they’re considered ready to use a specific weapon in the field.

A Samurai will often pick up a weapon, use it with no training, and discard it for another just as rapidly.”

--Major Hunt of Clenze PMC, on the subject of weapons expertise

***

“Just one thing, then we can head out,” I said as I crushed the can Gomorrah had given me and flung it towards a trash can. It bounced off the nearest table, missing it by about a meter.

“What’s that?” the nun asked while eyeing my incredible throwing prowess.

“I need to replace my back mounted weapons,” I said. “They’re kinda handy to have and I’d rather not get neck deep in crap without them.”

She nodded. “Certainly then. I think we should be off after. The break is nice, but we have places to be.”

I stood up and wobbled a bit, my legs surprisingly weak. Or maybe not all that surprisingly. It had been a long day already. Once I’d gotten my feet under me, I pulled off my jacket and tossed it onto the table nearest us. Then I pulled off my auto-holster jacket too and flung it on top of that.

The air was a bit breezy once I’d divested myself of pretty much everything I was wearing.

I noticed Gomorrah staring at me rather hard. I wondered if she was checking me out or if she was more interested in the burns that marred the skin from just under my right ribs all the way over to the right side of my face.

“Burns,” I explained.

She snapped her attention away, face immediately turning red. “I wasn’t...” she began but trailed off. A moment later she was fumbling her mask back on.

“They get stared at a lot,” I said. “You learn to ignore it.”

“Of course,” she said.

I shook my head and shifted my now exposed back. “Alright Myalis, let’s get this busted up thing off.”

Of course. One moment. The Hydra will fall off in a few seconds.

I felt the little attachments, those following along the line of my spine, warm up for just a moment before the entire device peeled off my back and crashed to the floor behind me. “Ah, thanks,” I said. The hydra hadn’t been heavy, but it was a bit of a drag to have it hanging off me for so long.

I turned around and picked up the hydra from the floor and spun it around a few times. It... wasn’t in the best of shapes. A few of the parts that went over my back were bent and one entire arm was a mangled mess.

“Are you going to put a shirt on?” Gomorrah asked.

I blinked up at her. “Huh? What, don’t you nuns have communal showers or something?”

“No! I mean... yes, but those were showers. You’re out in public!”

I looked around, making a show of it as if to point out how we were alone. “Uh-huh.”

I’ve been deleting all camera footage for a while now.

“We’re fine,” I said. “Myalis, got a better version of this?” I asked while raising the hydra up.

I do. Though perhaps you might want to try an entirely different set up? Your Sun Watcher Technology catalogue has a few pieces of equipment that are similar to the Hydra Autonomous Targeting Mount, though with superior armament and with some armouring. It’s quite light as far as armours go, but it is flexible.

“Sure, why not,” I said. “Is it more expensive?”

Your Hydra Autonomous Targeting Mount cost fifty points. This will cost three times as much... that’s one hundred and fifty points, in case you forgot how to multiply.

I rolled my eyes. “Let’s try it. It’ll at least help the nun out a bit. She’s contorting herself every which way not to stare.”

Gomorrah was twisted halfway around her seat so that she could look behind her and not in my general direction. She spun back towards me, no doubt with a fresh glare on. “I was trying to give you some basic decency, something you clearly don’t deserve.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I snorted at her a moment before a new prompt appeared in my vision.

New Purchase: Tiger’s Tail Back-Mounted Turret System

Points Reduced to... 4633

The box that appeared was a hefty thing. I opened it up and stared at the contents for a moment.

The armour looked like... armour. Mostly some sort of tough almost-leather like material, with some metallic ribbing around it. It looked like it only covered the shoulders and ribs and all along the lower back and up to the nape of the neck. That was simple enough, really. It would leave my torso exposed, but I didn’t mind that much.

The problem was the tail.

“Myalis.”

Catherine.

“Why does this have a tail?” I asked as I gestured at the three foot long metallic tail sticking out of the bottom of the armour.

It can hold an additional weapon. Right now, it’s mounted with a short range plasma launcher. The gas canisters are hidden in the joints along the tail. Also, it can turn into a thagomizer.

The tail rose up a bit, then its end blossomed into a spikey ball.

“I’m not impressed,” I said. It was a bit of a lie. I was a little impressed.

The ball at the end of the tail caught on fire.

“...Okay.”

I slid into the targeting mount with just a bit of difficulty, then I shifted my shoulders from side to side until it was on comfortably. The armoured parts were surprisingly thin, enough so that I could slide on my auto-reloader and my jacket with no problems.

And then I was left with a pair of rather chunky mountings waiting for some sort of weapon by each shoulder.

“I’ll need something with some kick, and something that’s got a decent rate of fire for all the little, weaker aliens,” I said.

Two separate weapons? That’s certainly doable. Might I suggest a fully automatic plasma caster for one mount and perhaps a light sabot-firing railgun for your opposite shoulder.

“Now you’re talking.”

New Purchase: Rapid-Fire Plasma Caster

Points Reduced to... 4583

New Purchase: Farsight Light Railgun Canon

Points Reduced to... 4483

Two more boxes appeared before me. One much thicker than the other, but neither of them were all that big.

I popped open the first to reveal a rather... chubby weapon. It was the only way I could think to describe the gun. It didn’t have any proper handle on it, and looked like someone had smashed two oranges together and stuck a small eggplant out the front.

“Okay?” I said.

That’s the plasma caster. The large protuberances are for the pellets the weapon fires and for its liquid cooling system.

I didn’t argue, just feeding the gun to the waiting arm over my left shoulder.

The other was a lot cooler looking, at least. Long and sleek and matte black, with a forked barrel that glowed a faint pink from within.

The lights are RGB based and are purely decorative. Vanguards seem to think that a weapon isn’t truly dangerous unless it glows.

“The plasma caster doesn’t glow,” I said with a thumb pointing over my shoulder.

The projectiles it fires are literally as hot as the surface of your local sun. Please trust me when I say that it does, indeed, glow.

“Fair enough,” I said. “Does this thing fire anything special?”

It fires sabot-rounds. The rate of fire is rather low, but the rounds can be equipped with all sorts of interesting and dangerous heads. I suspect you’ll enjoy them.

I grinned wide. “We’ll have to see. Let’s get some ammo for these guys and we’ll be off.”

I got to work and tore one of the Lancejets from the hydra mount, the one that didn’t look like it had been dropped in a blender. Then I picked a few magazines for it and slotted them in my auto-loader’s harness. The gun itself went in the sheath that I’d been using for that plain old gun I’d gotten from the PMC.

“Are you done?” Gomorroah asked as she watched me toss my invisibility coat on.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” I said. “Myalis, got some meds I can take to heal me up while we’re on-route?”

Yes. But I suspect a few hours--or perhaps a day--of rest would do your body a lot of good. It has been through a lot.

“We’ll see what we can do once we’re out of this spot.”

***