Some Warpunk in Cybercraft! [Fanfiction]

We were all still processing what had happened. The mood was somber, but everyone seemed in much better shape mentally than I would have though. Losing companions, losing your battle buddies had to hurt, but they were ready to jump right into the next conflict.

Everyone's emotions were clearer to me now, then they had been through the Psifield. A function of Voice of the God Emperor probably.

What a fucking name. I didn't like it. It made me feel like I was some fucker's puppet. Cross Universal puppetry? That sounded like a nightmare.

I was rattled. The technique that John showed me helped, but I had barely started using them. It would be ages before my mind had been reordered into a bastion of quiet reflection.

What I was examining now was my actions during the fight. I'd been barking out orders like I had known what to do. I suspected the influence of my new class. My only other exposure to battle command would have been war movies, and the majority of those were highly exaggerated. Hardly a decent basis to start my combat command career.

No, everything had felt like something remembered from a long time ago, being brushed off once it was needed again. I ran the situation through my mind again, calmly analyzing what I had gotten wrong and what I had done well on. How I knew what was even the right actions would have been was a mystery, but every critique seemed logical, each suggestion for improvement was part of an obviously consistent methodology.

That my thoughts seemed to move faster now was both a blessing and a curse. It led me to start reviewing my actions since my arrival, and was I felt quite a few strong moments of self recrimination. Opportunities squandered. Time spent whining when I could have been improving. Allowing myself to get catch up in my own misery at the exposure to the horrors of this city.

If everything was rotten, I had to do everything I could to reclaim it. turning it all towards a better purpose, a better tomorrow. No matter the cost.

Even myself.

I was not important, I was merely a vessel to bring order to this benighted land...

What?

There it was again proof that the classes were affecting my thoughts, burrowing their concepts deep into my mind. Was that on purpose or merely a consequence of gaining knowledge from this system? How much of me would be left, when all this was said and done?

That line of thinking earlier was some kind of sideways tyrant justification. It not for me, it for your own good. Easy to say, hard to trust if you studied history at all. Maybe they genuinely sought to improve the world, but that didn't mean your definition of "improve" matched in any way shape or form. So what were they going to do to you?

No, hell no. Let's try to stay off that path.

Sure, I wanted to help, but at any cost? Absolutely not. Too much had already been lost. More loss was inevitable but I should exhaust very option to keep it as low as I could. Victory at all costs, often left you with nothing worth having.

Let's not forget I'm ultimately here to bring life back to this world, not destroy it. Patience would allow us to reach the goal as well as aggression. Spread the water and then the green. Soon enough life would march over the land again.

And there was the Druid class shifting my thoughts into its preferred methods. This was a rollercoaster of pin the tail on my brain.

How could I be sure any of my thoughts were my own?

When we arrived at Lizzie's it was packed. I guess fire codes were not a thing, because it was standing room only. Even the lobby was jammed with bodies.

Some band was playing there. I hadn't known that was a thing in this city.

The Rev/Des had quite a large and loyal following. Being a bunch of street kids who had found music together and used it to channel their struggles into art.

Then they sold that art and made millions of dollars, but I digress. I had strong feelings about art vs commodity.

They were on the cusp of becoming a phenomenon. Maybe they would as big as the greatest names of previous generations. Maybe they would burn out before they got there.

Why were they playing here? Turns out they had run with Mox for a while to make ends meet. Heh. This was a second home to them, these were their people.

While they were still mostly independent, the Corpos were circling smelling all the money they could extract from the genuinely talented band. You could see a lot of them mixed into the crowds of street folk and gangers.

I liked that in this overly automated world they still played real instruments. Might be nice to check out what passes for live entertainment.

Hmmm. On one hand the crowd would be a ton of stress for us right now, on the other the right kind of music could help lift the spirits like nothing else.

Nah, we needed at least a little more quiet than this.

I was just about to get everyone back into the truck, when Rita caught sight of us.

"Hey Ryan! Wait up!"

I turned to see her just plowing her way through people like they weren't there. For some reason, I found that funny. Especially since she was smaller than most of the folks in the area, not that size meant quite as much in a cyberware future. Watching her shove a giant gonk out of her way with barely any effort proved that. He saw it was Rita and didn't say a thing, though his eyes did flash.

I was chuckling when she arrived. Which stopped when I realized that John had turned all his attention on her. Even Raynor who was playing herd dog with the fellas, had stopped to watch this little bundle of "fuck you" come our way. Now that would be and interesting fight, but no I liked Rita, she was a good egg in a carton full of bad ones.

I held up my hand to calm them.

She stopped in front of me, she seemed excited. She noticed the others and her excitement grew. That probably wasn't a good thing for me, but I'd been wrong before especially with the Mox.

"Ryan, help! We ain't got enough girls to cover all the angles. Especially out here." She was scanning the crowd with quick side glances before refocusing on me. Her appearance was disheveled, she had already been through something tonight. It wasn't surprising, trouble and special events go hand in hand in my experience.

"Rita..." I owed the Mox nothing. That said, I had nothing against them either, and I did appreciate their attitude in the face of this city's bullshit. Use what you got. Make others notice you and take what they were willing to give, and a bit more besides.

Fuck to Death!, indeed. I could see how that was a valid response to this world. Maybe even a sane one.

"Don't say no! We can pay well and the afterparty will be preem, once we clear everyone out." She looking like she was about to kick ass, but her tone suggested she was actually worried.

This really didn't sound like anything worth our time, until she mentioned the afterparty. That sounded swell.

"Raynor, are the boys good to go on crowd control?" I wasn't really expecting the answer to be yes.

"We covered a few lessons on it. So a tentative yes?" He nodded. He started going over the best methods to works a crowd with the troop.

"John, you good to work a concert?"

"Not my first time." John smirked. His body was already facing the crowds and his new eye were scanning for threats.

Fuck it. It beat trying to find a new place to go on short notice. What kind of concert started at this ungodly hour?

"Alright, you keep Susie out of my hair and we'll do it Rita."