Chapter 233: Three – The Little Meet

RavensDagger

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Chapter Three - The Little Meet

“In a world increasingly led by corporate and non-governmental entities, it’s becoming clear that in order to secure its personnel, the funding needed to operate, and to remain at the top in terms of lethality, the modern army will have no choice but to change its fundamental structure.

This isn’t a new thing. Historically, many nations were protected by armed forces that had a more... mercenary edge to them. This is just a return to the good old days, when lining our pockets with coin was more important than decorating our chests with valour.”

--General Blackmill, Treaties on the Future of Armed Warfare, 2026

***

Under any normal circumstance, I would have avoided the meeting like the plague.

Myalis has easy access to the guest list, and it wasn’t inspiring. Of the nearly three hundred people in attendance, three-quarters were the sort of people I wouldn’t piss on if they spontaneously combusted.

Mostly, that number was made up of politicians from the city and the country and their entourages, then there were a heap of c-suite representatives from just about every corporation that had business in the city. From what I could tell, the invitation, despite being sent out at the last minute, came with a sort of ‘you’d better be there’ tone that everyone chose to respect.

The last quarter was the one I was most interested in. New Montreal had two dozen paramilitary groups based in it. Some of those were small, and most were just branches from one corporation or another, but others were more like Clenze Private Military Inc. The same group that had cordoned off the incursion... was it just last week?

They wouldn’t be alone, the rest of the guest-list was made up of representatives of various police, EMT and fire-fighting companies in the city, as well as a big group from the army.

I rode my hoverbike around the building that was hosting the event. It wasn’t anything too special. A mid-tier hotel in one of the less busy parts of New Montreal, which wasn’t to say that the traffic wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t smack in the centre of downtown.

I let the hoverbike guide itself to a landing spot inside the hotel on autopilot. I still wanted to learn how to fly the thing properly, but I had too many things on my mind all at the same time to really have time to worry about that.

“So, are the best of the best waiting for us already?” I asked as the bike slowed to a stop. There was a parking level right in the middle of the hotel, with car elevators to the side where people could park their vehicles and have them disappear below and out of sight until they called them back up. I didn’t bother with any of that and just brought my bike over to the side of the nearest entrance and deployed the kickstands.

For a certain definition of the best. It seems as though most corporations have heeded the call and have sent some representatives here, but only a few of them are actually what you would consider important members of the corporation. The political side of things is mostly filled with interns and assistants. Only the military and paramilitary representatives are actually well-ranked.

I shifted my shoulders to loosen them a bit. I really needed to have Lucy play with my back some more to get rid of some of the stress. “Why are we only getting the dregs here?”

I suspect that the message calling for this assembly was coached in terms that suggested its importance, but didn’t divulge the entire truth of the incoming mass-incursion.

“Trying to prevent people from panicking?” I asked. I’d heard that kind of excuse before. It made some sense, but it never entirely sat well with me.

It’s more likely that it’s to prevent people from trying to profit from the news.

That made a lot more sense.

I ignored the valets and hotel staff milling by the entrance. The place was nice, but it lacked the elegance and... classiness of the hotel that Deus Ex had dumped the kittens in. I wasn’t exactly an expert in that kind of thing though. The entrance was still nice. A tall ceiling, some benches with plants dotting the room here and there, and a long reception desk at the rear. It was all done up in chrome and black faux-marble. Very 2040s.

A hovering sign with arrows and QR codes floated in the middle of the lobby.

2000h - City/Corp-wide Announcement from LaserJack, hosted by the Family

2030h - Mixed Armed Force Meeting, hosted by the Family

2100h - Open Forum on Contingencies and Collaterals, hosted by the Family

Looking at the QR codes automatically downloaded a map of the hotel, with the meeting rooms highlighted for me already. “Right,” I muttered. “Who’s Laserjack?”

A Vanguard member of the Family who generally works along the eastern sea-board of North America. He specialises in social technology.

“Not lasers?”

The name does seem to be somewhat misleading.

I hesitated. There was a large digital clock above the lobby counters that read 20:05. I wasn’t exactly on time. Did I want to step into the political meeting now, or wait a bit and join the military meeting later?

I could do both meetings, but I wasn’t sure if my patience would be able to handle that much sitting down and listening.

The choice was made for me. A woman in a uniform walked my way. She looked somewhat familiar, tall with orange hair, the Cleanse logo on her breast. “Stray Cat,” she said before snapping a quick salute. “Pleasure to meet you again.”

You are reading story Stray Cat Strut at novel35.com

“Uh, hey,” I said. “You’re... Major Hunt?” the woman towered a head above me, and even her happy grin didn’t make her any less intimidating. Hell, I was the one in the power armour; it wasn’t fair that she be scarier.

“You remember my name. It’s an honour. We were told that there would be samurai in attendance, but I didn’t expect this many.”

“Well, I just know of two so far,” I said.

She nodded. “Laserjack, Sam-O-Ray, Cause Player, Grasshopper, Gomorrah and now yourself. More firepower and danger in one location than I’ve ever personally witnessed.”

“Gom’s here?” I asked. That was great. I wasn’t entirely sure if she would show up to the event at all. The only other samurai on that list that I recognized was Cause Player, and I hadn’t seen him since the mini-incursion over in Black Bear.

“I believe she’s waiting by the meeting room for the Mixed Armed Forces meeting,” Major Hunt said. “Most of the other samurai are there, with the exception of Laserjack.”

“Right, he’s hosting that other meeting,” I muttered. “Mind showing me the way to the fun meeting?”

“Certainly,” Major Hunt said. “I just stopped to greet you. It behoves one to keep in touch with those who are particularly talented at killing xenos.”

“Uh-huh,” I agreed.

She started walking back across the room, as if expecting me to keep up. I had to jog to catch up. “Do you know what all of these meetings are about? This all seems rather unprecedented.”

“You haven’t heard yet?” I asked.

She shook her head. “We haven’t. If the higher-ups know, then it hasn’t been disseminated to my level yet.”

“I guess it’s just a small spoiler then, since the whole meeting will be about it. We’re expecting a mass-incursion.”

“Soon?”

“In a few dozen hours,” I replied. “It’s not going to be a normal one. No big rifts in the sky with aliens pouring out. Just a lot of aliens showing up all over and spreading.”

“Like a stealth incursion?”

I nodded. “Like that, but everywhere and all at once. If we’re not on top of it, we’ll be dealing with hundreds of little hives across the world.”

“That... is troublesome,” she replied. “Depending on the severity, that could mean anything from a worldwide halt to all industry while the hives are burned out, to a near-extinction level event.”

“I think the whole goal of these meetings is to try and encourage things to be on the less shit side of things,” I said. “I figure with a dozen samurai at the helm things are going to go pretty well, at least around New Montreal.”

The Major didn’t say anything, not for a bit, but her brows did draw together. “Having more officers at the helm doesn’t always help as much as you would think,” she said. “Sometimes all that means is that there are more chances that everything will be pulled in the wrong direction.”

It’s with those ominous words hanging in the air that we arrived at the meeting room.

I was expecting some sort of auditorium, with seats lined up towards a stage.

Instead, the meeting was going to take place in a large room dominated by a huge, oval table. About forty chairs sat around the table, with little microphones in front of them and a few pitchers of cool water sat in strategic locations.

Some were filled already, but mercs and people in neat uniforms, and, of course, by a few samurai who couldn’t help but stand out from the crowd.

I waved to Gomorrah who was near the far wall, Franny next to her, then continued to take in the room and its occupants.

The weight on my shoulders only grew heavier.

***

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