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    Chapter Twenty – How to Get to The Top

    “It’s always the quiet ones.”

    –Final Words of Maxwell Schmidt before an unknown Samurai ended his career, 2038

    ***

    The number of guards only increased after my little show. I was actually starting to grow a little bit worried. I was pretty sure that my armour could tank whatever they had, and given ten whole seconds I could summon up enough munitions to turn the skyscraper we were in into a crater, but that would be… problematic.

    So, instead, I half-turned towards Shy, who was next in line for the scanning machine. “Is our Commander still in the building?” I asked.

    A few of the guards perked up at that.

    She blinked, then looked off into the distance. “He is. But I think he’s trying to run?”

    “Can you stop him?”

    “I can,” she said. Then she flipped the hood of her coat up, covering her entire face because it was one of those cool, loose hoods. In a blink, she was gone.

    That was some good stealth tech. My meat eye couldn’t see her at all, and my cybernetic one only caught some faint shift in the air from where she was. Her tech probably had ECM and something to disperse heat or something.

    The guards, predictably, didn’t like that very much.

    So, I reached over and pulled out my Bullcat and racked the charging handle back with a heavy ker-clunk that echoed through the room.

    Crisis Mode behind me scrambled to pull out a pair of little machine pistols from holsters on her sides.

    “Okay, everyone,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Charades are over. Bring us to your boss.”

    “We, uh, you’re not part of our chain of command,” one of the braver ones said.

    “Yes I am,” I replied. “I’m a Samurai. Crisis Mode here is a Samurai. Shy, who you can’t see right now, is a Samurai. All three of us are in your chain of command because we said so. Might makes right and I might not kick your ass to the curb if you start moving.”

    A lot of hands touched guns, but for each idiot that looked ready to throw down, there were two that looked like they didn’t want to die for minimum wage.

    “Okay, cool,” I said. “So, who wants to lead me to your boss? We’re here to chat with the commander, but I’d take a nice conversation with someone who thinks they’re in charge as well.”

    No one stepped up to the plate, so I shrugged. “Myalis? Care to show me where the big offices are around here?”

    Certainly.

    The amount of willingness I got from her either meant that I’d get there and find the place empty, or I was about to discover some CEO type with his trousers around his ankles.

    Either way, Myalis tossed up some directions onto my augs and I shoved past a guard, Crisis Mode following after me. Then the guard followed as well. We had a little procession of ducklings behind us. Well-armed, nervous ducklings, but I think my analogy held.

    “I thought we were about to get shot,” Crisis Mode said, her voice low enough that I only barely caught it.

    “I wasn’t sure either,” I admitted. “But hey, that new armour of yours is bulletproof, right?”

    “To a certain extent,” she said. “Some of those bigger rifles… maybe more resistant than proof?”

    “Fair,” I said. “Think about it this way, if they shot first, we’d be justified to turn the place into a bloodbath. We’d probably come out on top in that kind of situation. If they did win, then they’d have been the ones responsible for killing two samurai while a third was nearby. I’ve only known Shy for a few days, but I’m pretty sure she likes me enough to do a bit of revenge.”

    “But they might be paid well enough to try,” Crisis Mode said.

    “It doesn’t matter how well you’re paid. You can’t spend a credit if you’re dead, and merc’ing a samurai in broad daylight, so to speak, isn’t a livable offence. If it wasn’t Shy it’d be Gomorrah. Those boys back there, half of them look like they’re deserters. That’s not exactly a badge of bravery, eh?” That last was aimed at the nearest of the group following us.

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    They’d obviously been listening in by the way a few of them flinched. Not that I’d been keeping my voice down. Being quiet was for when you were ashamed.

    “You don’t do something that’ll guarantee to result in your death unless you’re backed into a corner, have a lot to win from it, or are stupid.”

    “People die for what they believe in all the time,” Crisis Mode said.

    “That’s what I said, stupid,” I replied. It was a bit… what was the word, glib? I didn’t believe it entirely myself. There were some things I’d die for and not regret it. If the choice was me or Lucy, or even some of the Kittens I liked better than the rest, then yeah, I might, but I’d still think it was stupid.

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