Chapter Three - A Not So Quiet Home Life

“Samurai don’t tend to show marked improvements in their abilities. At least, no more than you would expect from a normal person.

It’s this researcher’s opinion that this might be a good thing. It’s comforting to see that anyone, if they apply themselves and are sufficiently motivated, can become just as talented as a samurai.”

--On the Learning Rates of Samurai, academic paper, 2026

***

I spent a good couple of hours practising with the Laser Pointer. The gun took a bit of getting used to. It didn’t have the same kind of kick as my Bullcat had, but it still needed careful handling. The punch it delivered was nice though.

Myalis started me small, with mid-range targets that stood still. Then she summoned an image of myself shooting and pointed out how I could change my stance to improve shooting. That... made some sense, a little. Really, the important thing was pointing the end of the barrel at what you wanted dead. How you held the gun didn’t matter.

Not unless you wanted to be consistent.

We worked out a few kinks, Myalis proving surprisingly patient. Eventually the targets started to move around slowly, mostly from side-to-side, and I started to see the value in basically posing while aiming.

Eventually, Myalis moved me into a digital building with concrete walls and lots of little rooms. The targets were still stationary, though they were replaced with holograms which lit up in passing. I had to turn and shoot them as quickly as I could.

Myalis said that the next step would be moving targets in changing environments, with ‘kills’ only awarded on immediately fatal hits, but she rattled out some statistics about my accuracy and target-finding speed, which had noticeably improved in just a couple of hours.

A few more sessions like this, and I’d be halfway competent, according to her. Personally, I was pretty happy. The time spent in the range had been fun too, and it didn’t even leave me feeling sweaty or anything.

Once we were done playing with guns, Myalis brought up one of my next big purchases.

You have used two suits of armour recently. Both have been damaged. One by falling debris, the other by high-heat exposure. While you still have both of them, and they are repairable, it’s possible that future engagements will also lead to situations where your current armour is just not capable enough to keep you safe.

“Yeah,” I said. “I need something bigger and tougher, then?”

Not necessarily. Larger armoured suits do provide more space for armouring. Thicker plates of conventional materials and reactive sections as well as more room for internals generally means that the larger a suit is, the more protection it will give.

“You’re about to tell me that that’s not always true?” I asked.

You have met other Vanguard who have been fighting for considerably longer than you have. Do you recall their equipment?

Deus Ex came to mind. The first time I saw her, other than these two massive pilon things, she was wearing some pretty thin armour. Just a few panels over what looked like a padded skinsuit.

I didn’t take her for someone who would put looking cute over being well protected. “I think I see where you’re going with this. I imagine the magical third factor here is cost?”

Essentially, yes. I would suggest two purchases. While the suits I would suggest to you now are mostly part of the Sunwatcher technology tree, there are several advances in material sciences that are above what they can provide at the tiers you’ve unlocked for that catalogue. Therefore, I would suggest buying a tier two Power Armour catalogue, then invest in a single powerful suit that can cover all of your needs.

That sounded like it would cost a lot. But then, I had a lot of points to spend. Nearly six figures worth.

“That sounds fair enough,” I said. “I liked the big armour, but it was a bit... big, you know? I can’t imagine using it to get around.”

Perhaps something more like a medium suit of power armour? Fully enclosed, but not as bulky. I’m certain we can fit all the devices you desire into something like that.

Myalis started to summon models of the various armours she had in store for me. Mostly they fit a single, very obvious theme. Sleek, a bit taller than I was, with a long cat’s tail and protrusions above the head for my ears.

I didn’t mind the look, and from the looks of things, I could pick out the colours as I saw fit, which only made sense since most of the examples she laid out had the kind of stealth system I was growing really fond of having.

“If that’s all,” I said after a bit. I didn’t need to make a choice yet. In fact, I was supposed to have a day off, and this was starting to look a lot like work. Was I even supposed to train on my one day off after so long without?

I logged out of the Mesh, the matrix fading away even as I regained sensation across my body. There was a weight pressing down on my stomach. I glanced that way to find Lucy, with a pillow set onto my bare stomach, sleeping soundly while curled up in a ball. She’d covered a bit of me in a blanket, but had clearly not gone through too much effort.

I reached down and ran my fingers through her hair, as if attempting a futile effort to straighten her curls out.

That woke her up, and she blinked dumbly for a bit before smiling. “Have fun?” she asked.

“So-so,” I said. I’d have to get her an aug like my own so that we could spend time together in the Mesh. There was so much weird stuff to see there that I kind of wanted to dive in and just explore for a day or two, but that would be infinitely more fun with Lucy around. “I’ll bring you next time. Myalis had me going through weapons drills and that kind of stuff, you might find it fun.”

“Hmm, commando Lucy,” she said. “Battlefield expert. I like the idea.”

I laughed. “Alright, now get off me.”

“You don’t want to snuggle?” she asked.

“Your weight’s pressing into my bladder,” I said.

Lucy laughed and rolled off of me. “Fine, fine. Are you hungry?”

“Did you cook something?” I asked as I swung my legs off the side. “Because if so, no.” That earned me a smack to the back of the head with her pillow.

Lucy scooted off the other side of our frankly too-large bed then bounced to her feet. “I’m starving!” she declared. “Let’s order more trashy food than we could eat in a week.”

“Sounds wasteful,” I said as I walked over to the en-suite (with only one sink, because two was stupid).

“We can shove the leftovers in the fridge. Besides, have you seen how much the kittens eat? You’d think they never saw food before the way they can empty a fridge out. Maybe if they continue to eat that way, they won’t all grow up to be little runts like us.”

“Hey!” I called back. “I’m not a runt.”

“You’re too thin,” Lucy complained. “I want something to grab at and you’re all bones.”

“Then grab my bones,” I snarked back as I left the washroom. I realized that one of the downsides of not having pants on was nothing to wipe my wet hands on after rinsing them off. I could have used one of the towels next to the sink, but they looked clean and almost decorative. Lucy had spent a lot of time picking them out.

We ended up sitting on the bed while ordering from three different places, just picking out the items that looked tasty, which was most of them since we were both hungry.

After that, I scrounged around for some clothes to wear, realised that I basically had none, and then I suffered through Lucy and Myalis buying some shirts and pants from a basic catalogue which I was obliged to model for Lucy.

There was something incongruously wrong about modelling an outfit that had rips and tears in it as part of its design.

We had to cut it short when one of the kittens screamed through the door that there was a nervous delivery guy waiting outside.

As it turned out, deliveries were supposed to be drop-and-go, but the poor driver didn’t want to just leave a stack of food at some samurai’s door in case something happened to it--delivery theft being an entire career as it was--so he stood there with the food and waited until I grabbed it from him and sent him on his way.

And then, for the rest of that day, we ate, talked shit, and made merry.

All in all, it was a pretty nice day off.

***