“Hey, Sourdough. Can you see and hear me fine?”

  ? “‘Course I can, boy. A few feet of concrete ain’t enough to stump Protector AIs. This ain’t amateur hour.”

  ? Daniel rolled his eyes. “Well, we’re talking. It’s late. What’s up?”

  ? “Wanted to talk about the job I mentioned,” the old man said. He lit another cigarette and took a long drag, then stared right into the camera. “You two ain’t in the same place no more? Don’t tell me you went back to that Anchorage, Maeve?”

  ? Maeve laughed loudly. There was no video feed for her at the moment, but her voice made it across crystal clear. “No, I’m in a hotel room. The I.R.A. Chief put me up, and the manager of the hotel told me I could have the room for a week. I’m living the high life!”

  ? “Right,” Sourdough said in his usual drawling way. “Well, when you finish pampering yourself like a proper lady, I’d love it if you paid some attention.”

  ? “I’m listening, I’m listening.” They heard what sounded like several bottles clattering against each other, then something like a drawer closing. “Just a second.”

  ? It sounded as if she’d flopped down onto her bed, and then her video feed winked on. It was placed a few feet in front of her on the bed. “Borrowed a tablet cuz I knew you’d be calling. What’s this job?”

  ? “I told y’all about the network I put up, right?” At their nods, he let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Well, from time to time, one of the stations gets overrun by those xeno bastards. The damage is different each time, but usually, they target the turret platforms first. Those are programmed to fire at any antithesis threat they pick up on sensors, so it makes sense they’re the target.”

  ? “Right,” Daniel interjected. “You mentioned today that one of your stations was down.”

  ? “Exactly. Which means that there’s bound to be some planties there. That’s why I want to hire you two.”

  ? “Again, I didn’t know that was possible. Can you pay us some of your points?”

  ? “Nope. Technically, you’re welcome to all the points you want from killing the bastards you find. But as for ‘payment’, well…”

  ? He scratched at his chin for a moment, the sound of his fingers scraping against the stubble obvious through their connection. “Well, I’m a firm believer in working for what you get. But I do have a fuckton of points… Wouldn’t really hurt me to kit you two out.”

  ? Maeve, who’d been slouching on her bed, suddenly shot up, her eyes gleaming. “Ooh! I like the sound of that! What kind of goodies will you give us?”

  ? “I ain’t givin’ you nothing fancy!” Sourdough immediately, “But I could probably give ya some weapons. Nothin’ above Class I, you hear me? I can’t unlock catalogues for you or anything, so you’ll have to work on that yourselves. But I know you’re just startin’ out, so I’ll be nice and give you some weapons. “Oi Tyrion, make a little starter pack for the kids. Huh? Shit, I don’t know. Ask their AIs.”

  [Tyrion is requesting access to your profile. Technically, he has the ability to do it anyway, but this sort of formality is polite.]

  ? “That’s fine,” Daniel agreed at once. He was just as eager as Maeve, but hoped he hid it better.

  ? A few seconds later, Sourdough waved a hand behind his head as if a fly was buzzing in his ear. “Yeah, that’ll work. No more than two hundred points. Yeah, yeah. Perfect.”

  ? A burning cherry fell from his cigarette, and he batted it out against his shirt. Then, realizing it was nearly to the filter, he stubbed it out off-screen before lighting another one. “Alright, kids. The vehicle will be by to pick you up in the morning. I’m only sending the one driver, and he ain’t comin with. Do you know how to drive?”

  ? “No,” Maeve replied.

  ? “Yes,” Daniel said.

  ? “That’s just great. Use the vehicle to get to the station, and poke around. Focus on surviving first. I’ll have more work in the future, and you can’t do that if you die on this one, aight?”

  ? “Sure,” Daniel said slowly, sure that Sourdough would hang up without another word. When he did, he rolled his eyes. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Maeve.”

  ? “I look forward to it!” Then she was gone.

  ? “Sounds like quite the fun conversation.” Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard Patrick speak. His roommate was standing in the doorway, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a spoon in the other. The guy just loved eating meals at every time but the one that seemed right. Eggs and bacon for dinner, cereal for breakfast. “I’m guessing you weren’t talking to yourself.”

  ? “Nope,” Daniel said, crossing his legs and tossing the pad aside. “Going back out tomorrow.”

  ? “For a rescue? Or for Samurai work?” Patrick settled onto his bunk, but leaned forward as he scooped some cereal into his mouth, his eyes never leaving Daniel.

  ? “Samurai work. Sourdough said he wants us to poke around one of his stations that went down.”

  ? Patrick dropped the spoon as it was halfway to his mouth, and the instrument splashed back down into his bowl, sending a small wave of milk over his pants. “Ah, damn! Wait, you didn’t tell me you knew Sourdough!”

  ? “So? He’s an old man who lives far away from the rest of us. What’s so special–”

  ? “Dude!” Patrick exclaimed, cutting him off. For the first time since he was made a Samurai, Patrick wasn’t looking at him as if he were someone to be respected or even feared. He was looking at him like he was an idiot. “He’s a legend! He’s the first Alaskan Vanguard!”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ? “So? He’s old and cranky. If he wasn’t willing to give us gear, I’d just ignore him.”

  ? “You’re getting gear from Sourdough!” Patrick pumped his fist into the air. “Oh, that is awesome! You gotta introduce me!”

  ? Daniel grimaced, not at the request, but at the thought of Sourdough’s reaction to it. He barely qualified as polite when talking to other Samurai. He… didn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of him yelling at Patrick. Because he was sure it would blow back up on him.

  ? “Oh, man, I remember the last incursion. Sourdough’s turrets destroyed the planties! You should have seen it, man. It was like the mountain came to life and started spitting fire at those things! They held off the invasion for almost an hour while he went out and destroyed the hive!”

  ? Daniel had been there too. Granted, he hadn’t gotten anywhere near the action. But he remembered the sound of those mountain-side cannons firing. Distant thunder and the sound of explosions. He thought about the points he’d earned for killing two Model 3s. Sourdough had taken care of an entire incursion himself? He had to be suffocating with wealth. He could probably level their city without scratching his bank account.

  ? He settled back onto his bed and picked up his tablet. There were millions, even billions of videos on the net about Samurai. Some interviews, some documentaries, and then there were the recordings of their fights. Some Samurai even recorded themselves, either for videos or in a livestream format. Doomguy, a Samurai active somewhere in Canada, was particularly famous for taking on the aliens in close range, slaughtering hordes with his chainsaw and shotgun while heavy metal blared all around him.

  ? Daniel cackled at a few clips of a recent incursion in New Montreal. Not at the deaths or the damage, but a collection of recordings about two new Samurai involved. One of them dressed as a nun and used two flamethrowers to flood the area with fire and burn the aliens. The other was… harder to notice. She barely showed up in recordings, and when she did, she had a new weapon each time. It was only toward the end of the clips that she started appearing more often with a crossbow. He watched some of her more public fights against the antithesis, and soon was eagerly digging for more. He liked her fighting style. Not quite up-close and personal, but the cat theme seemed cool.

  ? There was… nothing else. Cursing, he tried to find publicly available information on the two Samurai, but found only their nicknames. Gomorrah–that was the nun–and Stray Cat. The incursion hadn’t been that long ago, either. Barely weeks to a month. They hadn’t been Samurai that long, but were already figures of legend to him. He had to get that good and fast. He wanted to be known everywhere as an Alaskan Vanguard.

  ? That night, in his dreams, he stood against a horde of antithesis monsters. Well, not stood. He rode on the back of a cool hoverbike, zipping around the tundra while rockets, grenades, and bullets sprayed from his massive collection of weapons. He had a lance for some of the smaller antithesis and would charge them like cavalry. And even when he lost his bike, he didn’t care, because he had a wealth of points, and took those planties on at close quarters, earning a flood of points so great he could afford thousands of new hoverbikes.

  —

  September 18, 2057

  ? He was groggy the next morning when his augs chirped at him and rose with a groan. The healing on his shoulder had been excellent, but it was far from perfect. He pulled his shirt off to look at the wound, expecting to see blood, but there was none. Peeling the bandages away, he hissed as he noticed the ugly, jagged scars. They wouldn’t open, but they were still bright pink. It seemed the medicine Sylas had given him had done the trick and healed the wounds overnight.

  ?? “Is this stuff why I’m so tired?” He asked, twisting to see his shoulder better in the mirror. “I feel… tired.”

  [Some of it is surely due to the healing process. The Nano-Restorative Suite carries a great deal of the burden for you, but there is still a cost to your body itself. This cost can, of course, be mitigated with certain body augmentations and modifications.]

  ? “Oh, no,” Damien growled. “I’m not becoming some kind of damn cyborg. I like my parts to stay what they are. Human.”

  ?[That is your choice, of course. There are a multitude of augmentation options that only enhance what is there. You can make yourself much stronger, faster, and more durable, while still being well within what one could consider ‘human’.]

  ? He couldn’t shake the suspicion that Sylas didn’t approve of his stance on body modding. He hated his augs on a good day. No way he was going to let his body be swapped out piece by piece until he was more machine than man. “All natural is the way to go, Sylas. Humans have handled a lot on their own, and I don’t have to turn into half a robot to keep that up.”

  ?

  [You are quite right. But, returning to the previous topic, this lethargy should last no more than a few hours. Tyrion has passed along the full contents of your ‘starter gift’.]

  ? “Oh, good. What did I get?”

  [I do not wish to ruin the surprise. You will find out soon enough. But rest assured, one of the items included will wipe away your exhaustion quite effectively.]

  ? Daniel puzzled that in silence for a bit, trying to think of a way to convince Sylas to spill the secret, and if he even could. After a few minutes, he decided to let it drop and hopped in the shower. Once he was out and dressed in clean clothes, Sylas told him that the vehicle sent by Sourdough would be arriving in thirteen minutes.

  ? “Thanks for letting me know. Gives me just enough time for coffee and a dry muffin.”

  [I have within me knowledge of several catalogues that produce food several levels more nutritious and enjoyable than what your station serves.]

  ?

  ? “That’s great and all,” Daniel sighed, making his way to the dining hall, “Except that I’m out of points.”

  [Just letting you know that you have something to work toward. Planning for the future is never a bad thing.]

  ? Snorting, Daniel turned into the dining hall and made a beeline for the coffee maker. The pot was half-empty and cold. It reminded him rather painfully of Sergeant Ambrose, who always made sure to have a fresh pot or two ready for the first shift. Now that the man was gone, he had cold coffee only. But at least the blueberry muffin was decent. The coffee, reheated, was just enough to wash the dry baked good down.

  ? The vehicle was obvious as it rolled toward the station, both because it had to be cleared at the gate and because of its design. Used to the boxy, blocky service vehicles employed by governmental organizations, Daniel could only gape at the sleek hovercar that glided to a stop before the large doors of the main residential building. A man hopped out of the driver’s seat at once and stood beside the vehicle, bowing slightly as Daniel stepped out.

  ? “Ah. Vanguard Koyuk, I assume?” At Daniel’s stunned nod, he beamed. “As promised, I have brought the vehicle for your use. Vanguard Sourdough has asked me to pass along news that it is for you to use, not keep. He expects it to be returned after your mission’s completion.”

  ? “Am I supposed to bring it back to you?”

  ? “No, no, sir. I just work at the local dealership. We received an order for this this morning. After your mission, Vanguard Sourdough will tell you where to take it.”

  ? Another, much less sleek car appeared, and the man strode busily over to it before turning and bowing again. “Have an excellent day, Vanguard Koyuk. Should you ever need a vehicle of your own, please come see me at Tundra Auto! We have the best deals this side of Denali!”

  ? Daniel snorted. Considering that there was only one city on this side of that mountain, it wasn’t much of a claim. His augs pinged with a request for contact information, and he denied it as he moved over. The door opened at his approach, revealing a spotless, dark leather interior. The second he was in the driver’s seat, it closed, completely sealing off the outside noise. The window was both a windshield and a dashboard, and the wheel extended out of a compartment, showing a thumbprint scanner in its center. He thumbed it, and the vehicle hummed with life. He couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t a bike, but it was a sweet ride.