Chapter Three - Coffee Break-in

"Washington: What about the New Montreal branch? How are you faring?

New Montreal: NM is doing well enough. We have a few promising new samurai. None of them are space-capable yet. Our crop of high-tier samurai are all in Mars orbit already. We're left with a few mid-tier samurai that have been keeping to themselves."

--New Montreal Family Internal Messaging, 2057

***

"Hey," I said as I pointed to a little coffee shop on the corner ahead. It looked like the place still had power. Actually, most of this area was still powered. Lights were on indoors, and the streetlights on a few corners were still flitting between Coca-cola red, McDonald's yellow and Fanta green.

"What is it, boss?" Crackshot asked.

The road ahead of us was littered with dead aliens. Still mostly just model threes and maybe a few model fives and sixes to spice things up, but it was overwhelmingly small-fry that we were dealing with. "Let's stop over there, grab a drink, take five."

"It's probably not open," Knight pointed out. She was breathing heavily and covered in a whole heap of alien blood.

"Uh, yeah, I figured as much, but the lights are on. They probably have fridges with drinks, right?" I said.

"I guess?" Knight said.

"Right, so what's the problem?" I asked.

She paused for a moment, then shrugged. "I guess it's mostly just... not allowed? Sorry, I'm still not used to thinking like, well, thinking like a samurai, which I'm not, so... yeah."

That was fair. "Don't sweat it," I said. "I don't think the owners will be too pissed that we popped in to grab a drink. Hell, if they find out, they might use it for advertising or something."

Knight nodded along, and we crossed the road to the sounds of distant gun-fire. We were still a little ahead of the soldiers, having pushed forwards while they moved in a more... stuttery fashion. They'd cover one road, clear it, then move on to the next with a fresh squad or whatever. It gave those who'd just done some work time to reload and such.

There was a communication network running between the three battalions present, and all of the smaller platoons that made up those battalions. I was privy to it, since some members of the brass were still running along the misconception that I knew what I was doing.

The moment I clicked into the command channel I picked up some chatter. There was a helpful little readout box that popped up in my augs. Some secretarial AI transcribing everything that had been spoken so far. People were still talking aloud though, of course.

"East flank reporting in. I have three injured that need moving here. Low-priority."

"West flank, update on the fire situation. We have three trucks hosing it down. Should be under control."

"Keep me posted, west flank," a familiar-ish voice said. The coms transcribed it as coming from Lieutenant Colonel Juno.

I cleared my throat. "This is Stray Cat, on the east flank. I was wondering if we could slow progress down a little on this side? Unless we're far behind the west flank?"

"You're a little ahead of the west flank at the moment," Juno said. "May I ask what the pause is for?"

"Uh, I need to check in on everyone, and the broader situation. Crackshot's still raring to go, but I think Knight needs five. Hell, I could use a bit of water too, you know?"

"Right. I'll tell the sergeants on your flank to hold their next position. We could use some time to reorganise and bring ammo up to the front as well. Some troops need to be moved back."

I frowned at the last, then focused more on what was going on immediately around me. Crackshot and Knight had moved ahead while I was a little distracted. They were tugging at the predictably locked doors of the coffee shop. Crackshot pulled out the handgun at his belt, some sort of revolver, then blew a hole the size of a melon through the door and its lock.

An alarm went off in the shop, and the two slipped in and started looking for a way to shut it down.

"Are there lots of injuries?" I asked.

"No ma'am," Juno said. "But this is the first encounter with xenos for a lot of our ground troops. Puck Battalion is three-quarters filled with less experienced soldiers. Regulation suggests pulling soldiers back after their first violent encounter if their augmentations detect any major signs of stress."

"Wild," I said. I supposed it made some sense. Needed to ease people into the idea that if they fucked up, they'd be eaten. "Didn't know we were dealing with so many noobies."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"The Seventy-Seventh Recon Company and Twenty-Second 'Maple' Battalion are all veterans," the Lieutenant Colonel defended. "Don't worry, ma'am, we'll handle our part. Let me know when you're ready to move again and I'll unpause the flank."

"Got it, Stray Cat out." I clicked out of the channel, then stepped into the coffee shop with a crunch of glass underfoot. The alarm had been shut down, and I found Crackshot arm-deep in a fridge behind the counter.

Knight was sitting at a table nearby. I slowed down as she reached up and undid a pair of clasps next to her helmet, then she pulled it off. Knight was... a girl. Well, a young woman. Maybe sixteen, seventeen-ish? She wasn't a beauty. Actually, she looked a bit like her dad, but without the facial hair and the weight issues and... I wasn't being very complimentary, so I turned back towards Crackshot who grinned as he started placing cans on the counter. "What's your poison?" he asked.

"Eh, anything cold and fizzy," I said.

He tossed me a can and I caught it out of the air with a fumble. Knight caught another with a smack, then looked at it. "Do you have water?" she asked.

"Ah, yeah," Crackshot said. "I don't drink that stuff."

"You don't drink water?" Knight asked.

"Fish fuck in it."

I pointed to Crackshot. That was a fair and valid point. Then I had the front of my helmet fold in on itself, letting some fresh air bathe my face for the first time in a while. It was nice. I popped the tab on my drink, then sipped it. "Right, we can take five here. Get some liquids in you, maybe steal one of those doughnuts if they're still fresh-ish?"

"Nah," Crackshot said. "I gave them a poke, they're all hard."

"Sucks," I said. "I'll be checking the news for a minute, don't mind me." I went to a seat not too far from the others, then pulled my legs up and plopped them onto a chair across from mine. It was comfortable enough, and it was nice to pull some weight off my feet.

Sure, my boots were about as comfortable as could be, but I was still standing for a few hours. Also, my skin was still itchy. That whole skin-replacement treatment was probably worth it, in the long run, but the moment I was sitting down and no longer active, I could feel the itch returning with a vengeance.

"Myalis," I said because I needed a distraction fast. "Can you look into that whole exploding moon thing?"

Certainly. I'm assuming you mean Phobos?

"If that's what it's called," I said. "Big moon over in... on? Around? Uh... Mars' moon. Probably looks like the moon here, I guess."

Your guess would be wildly inaccurate. Phobos is much smaller than the Earth's moon. Or it was, I suppose that it would no longer count as a Moon of Mars now that it's left the planet's orbit.

"Cute," I said. "So, Gomorrah didn't give me a precise timeline for when that thing would be here. How long do we have?"

"Wait," Knight said. "What are you talking about?"

I glanced over to her. "Phobos is coming to visit Earth."

"The moon?"

"Yeah, apparently it's smaller than Earth's moon. Cool facts!" I said.

Phobos's original path, after its deorbiting, would have taken several months. However, the moon is still accelerating."

"I'm not the educated sort, but I reckon that's not supposed to happen," Crackshot said.

"It's some alien fuckery. Way, way above our paygrade. Or it would be if it wasn't heading to our doorstep," I said.

Given its current course and speed, and approximating the amount of fuel the moon could carry, as well as cross-referencing its movement with the movement of similar large antithesis bodies in the past, Phobos should be approaching Earth in approximately nine days.

Nine days. A week and change. That... was actually a long-ass time. "Bet the family are scrambling for space-capable samurai right about now."

A general bulletin in that regard was sent out two hours ago, yes. You didn't receive a priority version of it, seeing as how you're still ground-bound. There are ways for you to obtain orbital capabilities with your remaining points, but I'm afraid that it wouldn't be anything luxurious or capable of assisting much.

Right, so I had nothing to worry about, then. "Alright! Two more minutes, then let's head out. We're probably going to want to make as many points as we can while we can."

***