After getting back to our table Jun asked me, “What did my father want from you?”

“He offered me to join the Ishikawa family.”

I chose not to mention the previous Sentai vice head.

Jun scoffed, “Like him asking you will go any better than my attempts.”

Alex was slumping on the table, a closed fist against her cheek keeping her head up, she looked at me without moving, “Whatcha say?”

“Didn’t say anything, he told me the offer would stay, so long as Jun sees me in a favorable light.”

Jun snorted, “Sounds like you got cheated.”

Batou hummed, “You’re just annoyed that Jack didn’t refuse him outright.”

We made some small talk while we waited.

Revy and Kenzo returned at some point, the Vera they carried back looked much better than the one they left with. The blood was gone. Tape was wrapped around the joints of her hand, but not on her broken knuckles directly so that they could heal correctly. Her ruined clothes had been replaced with new ones.

At the center of the room, by the holo table, Ryuji Ishikawa and the two other gangsters we saw there kept discussing the details of a plan, during which they zoomed, rotated, and highlighted the holo image of the spaceport. In the meantime, water was passed around to everybody by one very young-looking gangster, I found the event slightly amusing.

After receiving a ping in my interface all the room’s occupants shifted. It was an encrypted group call initiated from an unknown number, the profile picture looked like an older version of Jun with tattoos. I’m guessing it was time.

We turned to look at the center, the three there stood behind the holo table, no longer talking.

After I accepted the call, they waited for a couple of seconds as the stragglers connected.

Ryuji Ishikawa’s voice resounded as he spoke, “The port is heavily contested, both outside and within. Paragon and US ships are fighting for control of the traffic that goes and leaves the port. We have to act before a winner emerges, at that point, a blockade will be inevitable.”

He took a second to light a cigarette and kept talking.

“The situation on the inside is also dire. The northern and western sections are under US control, while the south and east have been taken over by Paragon. The center is a massacre in the making with no clear winner. Our destination will be less chaotic, but not less dangerous. I’ll let the Yamamoto vice head explain our plan.”

He stopped talking and looked at one of the gangsters near him. She had red highlights on her dark hair and sharp facial features that were accentuated by red chrome lines on her cheeks.

The woman took her queue. “We are going to wear the US space force’s armor, and head northwest through the tunnels until we exit in the empty area between the port’s interior and its external armor.”

With a hand gesture, she zoomed in on that area of the hologram. It looked like an endless ravine made of metal.

“While we are going on the opposite side of where Paragon is most active, the sheer size of it makes it so that advance parties have been harassing even there. Not only will we have to worry about enemies coming from our sides, but also from above and below. Walkways are set at different heights on both the inner and outer walls. To avoid being ambushed we will have to split into six teams. Three will go on a higher, middle, and lower walkway of the exterior wall. The rest will do the same for the interior wall. We will then proceed to the closest outer hangar.”

She took a step back. The last gangster, who had been silent so far, took a step forward. He was a man with long graying hair set on one side, and a scar on his face went through his right eye and down his cheek. Considering how easy it would be to remove it, he was obviously choosing to keep it.

He cleared his voice and spoke with a deep voice. “While most of you youngsters are not used to dealing with Paragon forces, I have had the displeasure of fighting their best.”

He waved his hand through the holo image of the spaceport, replacing it with three armored soldiers.

The leftmost hologram looked like the regular grunts we had fought on the way, he pointed at it, “Those are the troopers you have been getting familiar with. Most of them don’t have much cyberware, but that is not always the case. Sometimes soldiers don’t get promoted for reasons that do not include performance.”

He shifted his attention to the center where an armor far too bulky and heavy was displayed. “Paragon’s heavy infantry, the armor is too heavy for anyone but the most strength-augmented cyborgs out there. Don’t bother trying to fire armor-piercing against it. The only thing that will take them down is the extreme kinetic forces of railgun weapons.” He glanced at Ryuji Ishikawa’s right arm. “Heat will get the job done too I guess.”

Looking at the final hologram, a sleek armor with many thrusters and a sheathed combat knife at the waist, he frowned. “Last but not least, these bastards go by the fancy name of the wings of Paragon, but most just call them elites. All of them have cyberware for speed. Do not let them get close to you. Not even if you are confident of your melee skills.”

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He pointed at his scar, “I used to be, and nearly died. The knives they have are not your usual toys, they can stab through the weak spots of regular armor. One stab is all it takes to die in the vacuum of space.”

After saying that he waved his hand again and the holograms disappeared.

Ryuji Ishikawa blew some cigarette smoke out his nose and spoke once more. “While we do have a pilot among us, he does not have much experience in flying shuttles. So if there is anyone confident in their-“

He stopped speaking abruptly, his eyes were locked on a beaming Revy who was waving both of her arms over her head.

All the gangsters in the room followed his gaze and turned to look at the nineteen-year-old.

Everyone stared at her in silence for a good ten seconds.

Eventually, Jun’s father said, “Well, if you can clear the simulations that are in our possession, we will be happy to have you as our pilot.”

He returned his attention to everyone, “Any gear you might need can be found in the armory. This is your last chance to get ready, we leave in thirty.”

After saying that, he beckoned Revy over with his hand. She enthusiastically walked towards him.

Everyone in the room was moving around, finishing their last-minute preparations.

We went to the armory and changed into the space force’s armor.

Kenzo helped Jun and Batou put Vera into one.

I helped Alex with hers. As I was doing so, she grumbled, “No VR set, crushed arm, and no money to buy something good as a replacement.”

I teased, “Replacement for the VR set or the arm?”

She narrowed her eyes, “Yeah, yeah make fun of the poor cripple.”

I could tell she was seconds away from blinding me, so I defused the situation. “We’ll figure something out. Once we’re back, I’ll go gambling, if I win anything I’ll get you a nice arm.”

She shook her head while smiling slightly. “That just sounds like I’m screwed with extra steps.”

“You never know, I could get lucky.”

“You never get lucky.” She pointed out.

In a serious voice, I said, “That’s not true.” And I stared right into her eyes with an intense gaze.

I saw her trying to fight the laugh.

She lost.

“HAHAHAHA!”

After regaining a sense of composure, she said, “Been so long since we had these corny exchanges.”

“They might be corny, but they always got you to laugh.”

She sucked air in between her teeth, “You ass, my arm hurts from the laughing.”

Getting more painkillers would probably make her high.

I kept my face neutral, “Inject some more painkillers from the armor.”

An armored right fist lightly hit my cheek. “So, you can record me high and use it as blackmail material?”

“I already have plenty of that.”

A not-so-light armored fist hit my face again.

“Ouch, okay I’ll knock it off.”

She grabbed a helmet and left the armory.

Batou and Jun were looking at me. The former smiling and the latter frowning.

A yellow glow in Jun’s eyes indicated a money transfer from him to Batou.

Smiling at their antics I wore a helmet and exited the armory.

Before we knew it, we were all assembled in armor by the entrance. I noticed that Jun’s father had a captain’s insignia on his armor. He was also not wearing a gauntlet over his right hand.

Guess he was planning a barbeque in case we met someone hostile in the tunnels.

He led the way, the other two gangsters who presented the plan were close behind. The one with the scar had a combat knife at his waist. The knife had a green triangle with a blue wing on the handle.

Our team was just behind them. Honestly, I wasn’t too happy about being in the front.

Thirty of us followed the three leaders. Most of the gangsters were armed with assault rifles, some had Thor’s and others had sniper rifles. Batou had to keep carrying Vera, trying to wake her up normally wasn’t working, and giving her a shot of liquid adrenaline was a last resort. Jun was being carried by the same young gangster that gave out the water.

The trek would take us two hours.

We came across several US platoons two to three dozen strong, when they saw the captain’s insignia, they made way for us and let us pass. No questions asked.

After one hour we encountered a Paragon scouting unit. I was keeping my ears open, but I never heard their footsteps. What I did hear were the strangled death cries behind me.

By the time we turned around four Paragon elites were already disappearing behind a corner, thrusters carrying them at extreme speeds. Four of the rear gangsters lay dead, throats slit.

I was suddenly very glad that we were at the front.

Soldiering on we increased our vigilance. Perhaps knowing that the same trick wouldn’t work twice the elites did not appear again. But they never left our minds. Every slight noise made us jumpy.

Thirty minutes later we stopped abruptly. We were in a winding tunnel and just ahead of us, a dead platoon of US soldiers lay scattered on the ground. Their blood was still fresh. The alcoves they took refuge in were full of holes.

Ryuji Ishikawa spoke in the comms, “We are pulling back to the last intersection and-“

Before he could finish heavy footsteps could be heard from ahead.

Behind us, four more strangled death cries sounded.

I rapidly turned towards the back, the cyclone already raised. Being on a windy path the Paragon elites could not do their disappearing act as fast as before. They were, however, swiftly zigzagging with thrusters helping them change momentum at ridiculous speeds. Gunfire resounded as the gangsters took quick shots at the nimble opponents.

I aimed quickly and exhaled while squeezing the trigger. The six Mach tungsten bullet flew true. Piercing through the back of one of the elites, who was dragged through the ground by his still-active thruster.

Another sound came with the heavy footsteps behind me.

The roar of machine guns.

The floor around us started exploding as the projectiles impacted with it. Revy and I being the front most of our group got hit by a couple of bullets that bounced off our armor, they still took the air from our lungs.

I grit my teeth through the pain and didn’t hesitate, grabbing the reeling Revy by the arm I rushed with the others toward the Paragon elites. And away from the line of sight of those armed with machine guns.

Taking a peek behind my shoulder, I spotted two Paragon heavies slowly walking forward while carrying a machine gun with both their hands. A dozen regular soldiers followed them.

Focusing back on what was in front of me, I saw that two of the Paragon elites lay dead on the floor. The other two were gone once more.

We kept running away from the approaching machine gun fire. The shots were now ruining the wall and floor behind us rather than landing around us.

Now that they were unable to get a clear shot, I took another glance back.

I saw that one of the bodies that were in the tunnel was lacking a gauntlet.

The hand rose, and an open palm with a hole at its center was directed toward the unsuspecting column of enemies that were advancing.

A long line of red fire erupted from the palm, engulfing the soldiers in a scorching inferno. The heat was so intense that it melted the surface of their armor. Those who didn’t die quickly rolled around spasming on the ground, unable to extinguish the flames.

The screams of agony were chilling.

After the torrent of fire ran out Ryuji Ishikawa rose, and dusted himself off, looking pleased.

He spoke in the comms, “The path is clear now, let’s keep moving.”

A moment of stunned silence passed before we followed.

Thirty minutes of marching later we reached a big airlock.

Behind it, the void of space awaited.