Chapter Sixteen

Having your failing spirits buoyed by a reminder of a happier youth; a smile graces your lips as, under the direction of your superiors; you and your group begin to advance in tandem with the others; each lockstep clack of your heeled boots, bringing rise an instinctual fear within the underclass.

The fact you were going against this reminder, didn't seem to cross your mind at all.

Already the gung-ho Japs have led their men in an assault to split the crowds into more manageable slices of two; shouting for their subordinates to secure the gate as the line of Arasaka Grunts left in their way, including you, begin to split in an oddly, almost organic fashion, moving to cement their presence in the gap forced open by your fellows.

Your baton lashes out to smash into the shoulder of a striker as you kick him back, joining your fellows in some rough-housing as you push, bludgeon and threaten the out-of-shape workers into their little holding pens, your superiors directing your efforts with a hawkish gaze.

You see Diana get pulled down from the car she's been standing on, her ear-shrieking shouts for the strikers to fight back, abruptly halting as her megaphone is torn away, and a few Arasaka Guards harangue her, the wreck of a car she had been using as a podium, now forming part of the strikebreaker line.

For a moment, you are tempted to have your co-workers take over your space and for you to go and pull that dumb bitch out of the mess she's got herself into.

Then you remember when she burnt all the shit you left over at her place after the breakup, and wisely understanding that she'd likely not distinguish you from all the other Arasaka goons with her black-and-white thinking, you banish such thoughts of heroism.

One officer is pulling her hair, the woman clawing at his eyes in response, as another tries to grapple with her arms, cybernetic augmentation granting her a degree of strength that the security enforcers had not expected, requiring a third, who delivers a swift jab of his baton into her stomach, making her keel over; putting an end to her resistance.

Moving your sight away from the woman who is now enjoying a thorough tenderising, courtesy of the Arasaka Corporation, you dismiss any concern for the woman; knowing her, she's probably getting off from it, ah, those were the days, now; where were you?

"Step back, scum!"

Damn, this feels cathartic.