Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Thirty-Two - Fried

“Newbie Samurai are the best. They’re still fresh and gullible. You can sign them up for all sorts of contracts no problem!”

--A salesman’s last words during a live interview moments before being beaten by Emeraude, June 2026

***

The Model Six was a big, mean motherfucker.

I vaulted over the counter of a burger joint, skidded along across a greasy floor with shoes that had no grip, and swung around while whipping my Trench Maker out.

A quick count showed six, maybe seven aliens, the Model Six at their head. I had ten rounds in my gun, and maybe a five second head start.

The first shot took a Model Three in the chest, the next buried itself in the mess of tentacles before a Model Four. Every shot had me turning a little, placing the red dot of the reticule over the next monster in line.

Not all of them died, but the incendiary rounds did some nasty shit to their insides even when they were hit in some meaty bit.

I didn’t get to enjoy seeing the aliens burn up.

Putting two rounds more or less centre-mass on the Model Six was easy. It was a big bastard and it was getting close. Seeing those two rounds sputter and burn in its chest, like matches in a windstorm, was a lot harder.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I said as I turned on a heel and ran deeper into the back of the burger joint. “Myalis, grenade!”

I shoved my Trench Maker in a pocket where it stuck out halfway and thumped against my side with every step.

Resonator, Mark ID. You should still be familiar with this one.

Something cold and hard appeared in my hand. I reached up, bit the tab off, and slammed my thumb over the trigger before flinging the grenade over my shoulder as hard as I could.

Then, just as I was coming around the back, something heavy punched me in the kidneys and I went tumbling forwards to land on my knees and side.

I grunted as my back bumped into a counter and a bag full of burger buns came raining down atop me.

The Model Six was squeezing into the backstore, its wide body too large to fit properly, but it was still shoving its way in, machines being shoved aside with every step.

I grit my teeth, tried to pretend I couldn’t feel the ache in my back, and jumped to my feet.

The Resonator went off, filling the cafeteria with a chilling scream that had me wincing and that made the alien before me shiver. It didn’t kill it though, not with the first blast. The damned thing was still coming.

I looked around in a hurry, picked up a pan, then decided that banging it on the monster’s head would do a whole lot of nothing. Then I saw a frier.

I dipped the pan into hot oil, took it out, and flung the oil at the Model Six’s face.

The Model Six twitched back, head beating from side to side as its eyes and skin sizzled and started to smell like fries. The resonator rang again, then again, and the Model Six’s twitching turned into writhing and, even though my head was ringing, I still made sure to stare as the monster melted.

When I started to see bones sticking out of the creature’s sloughing skin I stepped back, made sure my Trench Maker was still at hand. Then I got onto my knees to fish it out from under a counter.

“Any left?” I asked

None that I’ve noticed. Do you want to see your point gains?

I backed up into one of the corridors behind the burger place, then slumped against the nearest wall while my heart calmed down. I passed my hand over my lower back. It wasn’t bleeding or anything, or even painful. Were the drugs I’d taken still acting?

“Sure,” I said.

Targets Eliminated!
Reward... 265 Points

I blinked at the number. “Damn,” I said.

A respectable amount. I would suggest spending them sooner rather than later. Waiting until you are safe might mean never getting to safety.

I licked my lips. “Yeah, fine. What’s my total at?”

Three Hundred Twenty.

I huffed in surprise. “Damn. I can probably buy a couple of nice things with that,” I said.

I would suggest immediately buying a few select medical utilities. A second Nano-Regenerative suit, just to ensure that you’re in better health. A Nutri Pack to keep you going, as well as a Cleanse to rid yourself of the remains of the Mind Krank Ultra you’ve taken. It’s reached the point where it’s acting as something of an impairment.

I nodded. “Sounds like a start, let’s get it done before going to meet the others.” I coughed to clear my throat, then wiggled my pinkie in my ear. “I need a few things. Something to reload my gun, and a holster for it. And I need... uh... more firepower, I guess.”

That Model Six had taken a lot to kill. It was probably worth more points for it, but the level of danger compared to a Three or Four was too damned much.

I suspect that you need many things. If you want to continue fighting as you have; that is, by laying out plans, setting up traps and then taking down opponents in large groups, then perhaps you’ll want to split your investments a few ways. Additional firepower, more mobility, better sensor capabilities, and finally more advanced stealth systems. You won’t be a Vanguard who charges in the front lines, but you may well be one of those rescuing the people caught in the crossfires.

“That... sounds nice, yeah.” It did sound kind of cool.

Perhaps we should begin with Auxiliary Weapon Utilities Class I? You could purchase auto-loaders, targeting computers, basic mounted weaponry and a few other utilities besides. Fifty Points for the entire catalogue!