I, being of sound mind and capable of body, full of will and clear sight, declare my emancipation.

  I have reached the required age and shown that I am capable of supporting myself. I have a plan that will see that I do not lack for basic necessities. As I have for the last three years, I will continue to ensure that I am fed, clothed, have a bed to sleep in, and continue my education.

  No longer will I be beholden to or guided by those that birthed me. I take up the reins of my life and will determine my own fate.

  I make no claim on my progenitors and abandon them as they have abandoned me. The family that should have nurtured me is dead and void in my eyes. I deny any debts to and from those who failed to raise me. It is enough that the hurt will end and I can step away and heal.

  This is a tough and scary step I take, but it is necessary for my health and continuation.

  I will stand strong. I will prevail.

  I am Tara.

  --Emancipation declaration submitted at her hearing, June 2057

  ***

  Halfway through my shift, Didir called me. “If you are up for some battle, the army sent a request for combat Samurai up north.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “There’s a large hive halfway to Seattle that needs to be removed, and the Army is using it as live fire training. Season up new troops or some such. They want Samurai on hand for when it goes sideways.”

  “That sounds interesting. Be nice to see how the professionals do it.”

  Didir laughed. “We are the professionals, we just don’t act like it. I’m pinging you the location and some info now. They’ll want you there around nine.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  ***

  It had become something of a tradition for the team to meet up for desserts or dinner when I got off of my shift at Threat Dynamics. As we nibbled on our chosen treat or meal, I brought the team up to speed on the deal with CU.

  “And Didir hooked me up with a military exercise that they are looking for Samurai help with up north. I’ll be heading up there tomorrow.” I finished as I mopped up the last of my salad. The double extra bacon on a Cobb salad tasted all the sweeter when it frustrated Ginny-the-fry-thief. “Will you be available for drone ops, Tara?”

  “Depending on how far away you are, I might have connection issues. There will be communication lag and maybe dead spots.” Tara had some whipped cream on her nose from having been too enthusiastic over her apple pie.

  “I’ll take a Carrier Pigeon along with several of the Chibats. If necessary, I can buy something more once I earn some points.”

  Kaitlyn gestured to Tara about cleaning her nose. “Any chance we can get some action shots? People loved what we got on the escape and have been asking for more. If we can make that a regular thing, we can start a live stream.”

  “Like one of those shows where the Samurai is acting for the camera while taking on antithesis? Why would I do that?” It seemed to me that the Samurai who had active streams were more in it for the popularity than defending people.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “More like a live sports broadcast or news reporter. No way are we going to have you talking to viewers while you’re fighting.”

  Ginny nodded her agreement. “That would be bad.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

  “You get kind of bossy during battle,” Tara said.

  “It’s not a side you want people to see too often. We might let some through in downtimes, but when the bullets are flying, we’ll voice over.” Kaitlyn slurped up the last bit of her fully caffeinated mocha shake. “I’ve done some surveys, and they showed that your accessibility is one of the things people like about you.”

  “And we don’t want you distracted,” Ginny said. “It would be bad enough seeing you hurt; knowing that we caused it by letting your fans distract you would be much worse.”

  “Why do I even need a live stream?” I asked.

  “People love seeing their protectors in action. And your negotiating power will be directly related to your popularity.” Kaitlyn shrugged.

  “And the viewers can become a resource for you, a pool of folks to call on for expertise or help,” Ginny added.

  “I don’t want people thinking I’m some glory hog or in it for the views.”

  “That’s why we’re doing the sportscaster version. That makes it less of an ego trip from you and more of a reporting on you. We’ll be like your special paparazzi, showing you in action.”

  “I’ll be keeping a couple drones in close to watch for nearby threats anyway.” Tara added. “It won’t take much to have an extra drone on follow mode.”

  “Fine, we’re doing videos now.” I rolled my eyes. “As long as it doesn’t get in the way or bother the people around me. I’m not going to be solo this time, and I’m not sure what the military’s policy is on filming.”

  --Tell them it’s for your AAR, and they won’t mind.

  We paid up our bill and moved to the bus stop, despite the rain. While we waited, a passing couple recognized me and asked to take a selfie. I fumbled through the request, and I’m sure my expression was as awkward as could be in the photo. Kaitlyn didn’t help by using her augs to take a couple pictures too.

  The arrival of our express bus saved me from their gushing. Once aboard the, thankfully, empty bus, Ginny turned to me. “Is that still weird? When people do that celebrity thing?”

  “I guess. With my vision,“ I gestured wide with my hands, indicating the expanded field of view, “I see them reacting before they think I can see. That lets me be ready, but yes, it’s odd. It makes me… nervous? That’s not the right feeling, but close.”

  “Anxious. Apprehensive,” said Tara.

  “Self-conscious. I don’t know how to act or what to say. My first thought when they point at me is to look behind and see what famous person is there. And then when I realize they are pointing at me, I’m trying to figure out if it’s because I look weird or what. And finally, after the pointing and the pictures, they talk to me as if I’ve got all the answers. And all I have is more questions.

  “Yeah, I’m one of the movers now, but moving toward what? To what? I guess…” I paused and looked out at the rain sliding off the windows.

  “I’m still trying to figure out what is different and what isn’t. I still have the same job, but everything’s different. Plus, I’m trying new things, like the martial training, and how will I fit all that in? And the Samurai hunting? Do I even need to work now? After I get the deal with Cascadia U, I mean, and others. At one level, it’s all strange details and newness. But on another it’s the same as the day before yesterday.

  “I don’t want to go back to the way it was. I was getting by, but I can do so much more now. Sure, many that I teach will be safer afterwards. Haruka proved that. But that’s retail: one person at a time. I’m wholesale now.

  “I can help even those that won’t fight or can’t. And if I grow, there’s more that I can do. I don’t want to go back. But there’s parts that I want to hold on to as well. My family, you all, even work. I just don’t know how to keep it all going.

  “In a way, the Samgushing helps. It reminds me that things are different. I think that without it, I might go back to being a working joe and not push to make a difference. I’m a society shaker now, I just need to figure out what to shake for and how.”

  It suddenly hit me that I was rambling again. I did that when I was tired. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump on you all.”

  Ginny smiled. “It’s part of my job now. I think that part of being a good assistant is to help you think things through. We’re here to support you, and if that means letting you rant for a while, then I can learn to listen. But I might want to take some lessons from your mother.”

  I half laughed at that but sent over my mother’s contact details. Mom was always happy to teach folks how to “shut up and listen.” She even kept her rates low for people that were genuine in seeking the training. We spent the rest of the ride in silence, each lost in thought, or just tired, I supposed.