Chapter Five - Leadershipping


    Chapter Five - Leadershipping


    It takes the average samurai three incursions before they reach a level of comfort and stability with their own abilities and tools to be completely effective. Some take longer, and others are naturally inclined towards the lifestyle of a samurai. A few rare examples flake out and decide not to take part in combat and alien-hunting directly.


    --The Familys Guide to Working with Noobs, 2051


    ***


    So, what do you know about the locals? I asked as I followed Gomorrah outside. I immediately put my question on hold as I took in the car sitting on my landing pad.


    The Fury had been Gomorrahs baby. I think the only thing she loved more than that car was fire and maybe Franny, in that order.


    The car sitting ahead of me wasnt the Fury, not unless Gomorrah had gone really nuts with the modifications. It looked a bit like her old ride though, but bigger and meaner. The car was stationary, but it looked like it wanted to be breaking every speed limit in the province.


    Four metres of pitch-black, obviously armoured skin on a chassis that reminded me of an old-timey muscle car, with sharply angled panelling. It sat low on the pad, fat wheels tucked deep within. Damn, I said.


    Pretty, isnt she? Gomorrah asked, clearly proud. Im calling her the Fury Resurrected. It felt like an appropriate name. Bigger engines, a better environmental control system, actual space-capable thrust, and a lot more armour than the first Fury.


    Wait, it can go to space? I asked.


    Yes, but not for long. And not very well, honestly. If I wanted something space-capable Id just buy something specifically designed for it. Im just saying, its a lot faster and can take more of a pounding. Oh, and its better armed too. Two gatling guns at the rear, a forward-firing railgun, a missile launching system and flamethrowers for up-close work. It wont be knocked out of the sky by an unlikely strike from a passing model eleven. Oh, and the interiors big enough to accommodate power armour.


    Oh, thats a nice change, I said. The doors to the new Fury opened up, gull-wing style, and I slid into the passenger seat while Gomorrah went around. Hey, is this real leather?


    Real fake leather, she said with a nod as she sat behind the wheel. The interior really was more spacious, though I still pitied anyone that had to squeeze into the back.


    Nice, I approved. So, are we heading straight south? Whats the plan here?


    Gomorrah reached to the console in the middle of the dashboard and touched a few buttons. A hovering map appeared between us, projected from a tiny pin-prick hole in the ceiling. New Montreal was impossible to miss, at least until she zoomed out and moved south across a bunch of nothing towards a city that looked a good deal smaller than ours.


    This is Burlington, she said. Its a fairly small city. Population: just over half a million. Theres a big university there, and not too much else. Its mostly a retiree city.


    So chock full of old people? I asked.


    Just about, Gomorrah agreed. She set the new Fury into motion and we smoothly rose up and away from my place, then we turned and started flying just under the skylanes which had the most traffic. The place is guarded by three samurai. Theyre all new. Like, very new.


    Because someone has to be, Gomorrah said. And Im not exactly the leadership type. You, on the other hand, are actually somewhat experienced.


    Im used to bullying children.


    So youll have no trouble with samurai, Gomorrah replied. Look, it was partly my idea, but Laserjack approved of it. Someone needs to take charge in Burlington. The samurai there now are too green, the political situation is a mess, and youre good at blowing right past those kinds of issues.


    Yeah, but Im... fuck, I dont know, I said.


    Gomorrah shook her head. You wont be alone. And I dont think anyones expecting you to be perfect at this. Just see what you can do, Ill help where I can. The Family will be redirecting reinforcements to the city before the weeks over.


    Thats five days from now, I said.


    So we just need to hold out for that long, Gomorrah said. Weve done worse, I think. Besides, were not far from home. We can drive back every day so that you can sleep in your own bed.


    I worked my jaw. I didnt like it. But... yeah, maybe this wouldnt be too bad. I did like giving people orders a lot more than I liked taking them. I flitted through the files until I found dossiers on all three samurai.


    Two men, one woman, all fresh as newborn babes. They didnt have good photos of them. By the looks of it, every picture was taken by a civilian aug and uploaded somewhere. The samurai themselves had only had very light communication with the Family so far.


    The first on the list was a guy in his late twenties. Whip-thin and rather scrawny. Going by the name Sprout. He seemed to be leaning towards a specialisation in biological weaponry, mostly plant-based things.


    That sounded outright stupid when dealing with the antithesis.


    Next guy didnt have a samurai name yet. He was Sprouts opposite. A big guy with heavy body mods. Couldnt see anything about his fighting style or what kind of stuff he was getting.


    The last, the woman, was in her thirties. The only photos they had of her were taken from afar. She had some sort of coat on, with lots of spikes on it, and seemed to be in the thick of it. They were calling her Manic.


    Holy crap, these are like, the dregs, I said.


    Gomorrah scoffed. We werent much better at the start, she said.


    I mean, sure, but still. Maybe I was too used to working with professional... ish samurai. Those that, if they werent professional, were at least experienced enough to make their weirdness work.


    This was going to be a spectacular mess, I could just tell.


    ***