Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Fifty-Five - The Calm Before

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--Stabiloos Housing Ad, 2034

***

“I’m going to split off for a moment,” Emoscythe said. She extended a hand my way for a shake. “It was nice meeting you properly. If you ever need image help, give me a call. If you’re looking for a reason to live, then maybe call someone else.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said. I took her hand in mine and shook, careful not to squish her with my armour. My gauntlets basically eclipsed her hands in armoured steel and I worried I’d hear a crunch. Nothing of the sort happened though.

She was a more experienced samurai. Maybe her arms were all cybernetic. Or maybe she was a remote-controlled meat puppet the entire time. It was impossible to tell without asking, and asking felt like a faux-pas. It was like asking a girl if she was wearing a wig

“Keep an ear open for updates from the Family. Knowing Laserjack, he’s going to want everyone in particular spots until the wall’s entirely closed up. Your choice whether you listen or not,” Emoscythe said. She waved me goodbye, then headed out. A couple of PMCs jogged over to her and started trailing after her like dogs after someone with a bagful of treats.

I watched her go for a moment before turning around and facing the suburbs the aliens were gleefully taking over. “How long until the next wave?” I asked.

It was meant for Myalis, but the Bear-PMC next to me took it to mean I was asking him. “We predict that the next wave will be ready within the hour. We’re expecting a much bigger one tonight.”

“Right, they’ll have all day to replenish themselves, especially if we’re here defending the city and not fucking over their hives.” I looked up and down the length of the defences. The edges were going to pinch in eventually.

The crews working on the wall were laying down another section of it. Ten fewer metres of space that the aliens could easily cross. I imagined that they were doing the same on the far end.

“How quickly are they adding wall segments in?” I asked.

“About one every twenty to thirty minutes,” he said. “They have to slow down whenever enough xenos approach the wall.”

I nodded along. “How long do we have left then? Assuming that no aliens bother us?”

“One point two kilometres left, ma’am,” he said. “Segments are ten metres each.”

I cursed silently. More math. I worked it out though. Sixty hours if they only did one side. Half that if they came in from both sides. “How’s it going to take so damned long? We’ve covered the rest of the city in a day and a half.”

“Ah, I think for the rest of the city they had a lot more than two crews working at once.”

That made a heap of sense. I checked on the Family’s map thing to see how things were going. The city map was predictably a red mess of alien sightings and confirmed locations. The pins for other samurai were all either behind the fortifications or moving back already. Gomorrah was about three hundred metres north of my position. I glanced up, but couldn’t see her past the tanks and temporary towers and moving troops. I couldn’t even use the smoke in the air to tell where she was, there was so much of it.

I got a text the moment I closed the map. From Laserjack, of all people.

LaserJack: To: all Samurai currently defending New Montreal - RE: city defence. We are assembling a defensive position within the gap on the eastern side of the city. For best results, please move to the following locations at your earliest convenience. See Attached.
Jolly Monarch: Moving to position.
Emoscythe Mordeath Noir: Very well.
Gomorrah: Understood.
Sam-o Ray: No problem, bro

I paused for a moment, then with a roll of my eyes I sent my own reply.

Stray Cat: I guess

I opened the map again and noticed a few squarish sections added to the gap, each one had a samurai’s name over it, and if I lingered my attention on any one of them, more information would pop up. Which PMC or militia group was located there, who to contact to get in touch with them.

I wasn’t too far from where I was supposed to be. A bit further north. Maybe two hundred metres from the wall. Gomorrah was stationed to my north, and there was a small slice just below mine. It was maybe half the size of either mine or Gomorrah’s chunks.

Hovering over it didn’t tell me much. New Samurai, Temp-Designation: Farm Boy.

“Alright,” I said to the PMC officer. “I’ve got a place to be. Keep safe.”

“Yes ma’am, glad to serve,” he said with another salute.

I walked on past him, then looked at the path I’d have to walk. It was filled with people moving back and forth, and a lot of vehicles and barricades.

Sighing, I moved to the side and out past the barricades. No one was using the no-man’s land to move around, so there wasn’t anyone in my way. “Are there mines around here?” I asked.

There aren’t any, no. The Family’s policy is to avoid that kind of ordonance next to an actively defended area. The reasoning seems to be that other explosives might launch a mine over the barricade and towards the defenders.

I chuckled. “That’s horrific. Bet the policy was only updated after some poor unlucky fuck got to meet his maker early.”

It happened three times over the course of six years before the policy was changed. The report I’m finding indicates that a remote-detonated claymore was launched from an area denial-zone and into the turret hatch of an anti-air vehicle, killing the entire crew.

“Well, fuck,” I said.

I walked over to my spot of the gap, then continued on to the far end to get an idea of how big a spot they wanted me to cover. It wasn’t a small gap. I had maybe fifty metres to cover. Three groups were gathered up, with barricades pushing up against the edge of the no-man’s land.

Two were unfamiliar mercenary groups, the third, in the middle of the other two, was a group of militia. The District Ninety-Two Gunners. They were stacking sandbags still, with a few guys plopped down behind a pair of big machine guns.

Every one of the civilians was wearing leather jackets with cheap bullet-proof vests under. Half of them were ruining their mohawks with ear protection which clashed with all of the neon cyberware they had.

Were they a militia or a street-gang that had mobilised?

I decided that I didn’t care.

I planted a boot on the edge of a barricade, then pulled myself up and over. While I was up there, I glanced at the city where the aliens would be coming from. We had a bit of room between us and the wall of rubble. It wasn’t piled so high that I couldn’t see past it, standing as I was atop the barricade.

Turning, I noted that both PMC outfits had set up some towers to get a better view. Dull green things that looked like those scaffolds construction workers set up next to homes sometimes, only with more armour plating on the upper half and a proper roof and mounts for guns.

“Alright,” I muttered. “Myalis, I think we’re going to mine the shit out of no-man’s land. I’m thinking stuff that won’t be lethal if it flies back in our faces. Resonators are my go-to option here. Maybe we can get some of those acid bombs up in the air? Spray down anything that tries to run at us.”

Did you want to place the mines yourself?

I considered it. That would be time consuming. I could probably order some of the PMCs or militia-types to do it, but... “No, too risky. Can I get a couple of cat mechas to do it?”

Certainly. Adding that kind of mechanism to your drones is entirely possible.

“Right, let’s do that then. I’m sure you can figure out a good grid system for the mines. Maybe we can mix in a few others. I’m thinking garrots right after the rubble wall over there. Turn any fucks that get past the wall into mince-meat the moment they’re over. Some of those zero-kelvin bombs too, in case something big bursts past the wall.”

Noted. Do you want me to preload the mine-layer drones with that kind of ordonance?

“Please and thank-you,” I said.

Myalis summoned a trio of cat drones for me. They were a bit smaller than usual, with a back-mounted arm and backpacks that were clearly full of explosive goodies.

The cats ran off into the no-man’s land and as one, started digging with their front paws like giant kitties in a litter box.

“Right, I’m going to go meet this unnamed samurai. Maybe say hi to Gomorrah before the fun starts. Don’t need her burning my mines out by accident.”

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