Kaisen station, Date Space.


The fortress like station had seen a lot of battle over the past decade. The outerplating still bore scorch marks and superficial furrows in the its metal. Now a days, it was firmly under Date control, the front having pushed towards Nabu Zais coreworlds as the Date have grown in power and formed powerful allegiances. The systems one settled world was Aishidu, a green jewel among the stars. A largely arboreal planet, it had become a important producer of high yield crops to feed the armies of Date. Its cities were thriving off the commerce as well, in particular, the city of Hakuto. A small metropolis, it still bore the marks of a landfall invasion a decade prior, but instead of repairing or building over it, the city had incorporated it as a testament to its perseverance.

Among its hundrends of Ryuoko Inns, its bustling pleasure districts and its seedy underbelly however, there was no shortage of the desperate and outcast to ply their trade.

The Neon Gaisha, Hakuto, Planetside

Neon and Smoke, the smell of recycled air and cheap synth tobacco wafted around her face. The Neon Geisha was a place where all manner of people ended up. Ronin, Gamblers, Mercenaries, Prostitutes, lowely thugs and everything in between. She hated the place, but she was broker than a overtaxed farmer during a drought. Currently, Jaii was sitting cross legged by a table, contemplating the broken tea cup in her knee, and the mess of barely better than urinal water that called tea in this place. As it stood, it did about as much use, spilled over her legs as it had going down her gullet. No, she wasn’t upset about that. She was however, ready to kill someone over the fact that her ricebun was squashed under a foot. She had spent the last of her Ryu on that. Her eyes travelled along the leg that was attached to said foot, hairy and scabby with old wounds. Almost as thick as her torso.

“OiiiI” A surprisingly shrill voice exclaimed. “I told you not to ignore me, Baka-On'na” The man, who was almost two heads taller then her said with disdain. The battered, scratched out crest told her she was dealing with a former Takdeda samurai. She produced a long, slender pipe from her puff. Stuffing it with some cheap grade tobacco she took a drag to calm herself.

“And?” She spoke finally. “If I paid attention to every Takeda Ronin on this damn station, my head would come loose and roll off my neck from turning it around to much. I swear you losers are everywhere.” She saw a hint of rage in his eyes. She smiled and took another puff. “Eh, still here? Baaaaka. ”Looking behind the large man, she saw two more tense up as it seemed to be brewing into a fight. It appeared he had two friends who were willing to get their hands dirty. She sighed. Some honour.

“Do you know what the quickest way to get anything done is, eh Ronin?” She looked up at that ugly, scarred face that peered down at her.“Violence” She said as her smile turned feral as her hand went to her side sword and pulled it out in a fluid motion. The Ronin toppled backwards as he only barely pulled his foot away in time. His hands went ot his sword but she used him as stepping stone, smashing her foot into his face in the process. Launching off the big guy, she smashed her sword in downward arch, catchin one of the Samurais friends in the act of drawing his own katana. She drove the sword down into his shoulder, using her momentum to place both feet onto his chest and driving him to the ground. HIs head smacked against the table with a wet crunch and his eyes went docile from the cuncussion.

“You bitch” The other pulled a large, mean looking handgun. But found that Jaii tossed her katana at his face. He dodged to the side, a mad laugh escaping him as he momentarily forgot about the sword that hung on Jaii’s back, thinking she had thrown away her sword. “Hah. Missed me yo-” He stopped cold as he wasn’t able to dodge the massive Nodachi, still in its pearl white sheeth, smash down onto his elbow joint with enough force his arm bent in a funny angle. He crumpled like a paper lantern in a rainstorm as his sword clattered across the floor..

She turned to face the last opponent, but found that the samurai was staring at her in shock, a crumpled nose from her foot.

“You done? Ronin?” She asked with a mocking bow while simultanously drawing the nodachi out of its sheeth. The blackmono blade reflected a dull light withs machine polished gleam. The offended Ronin snarled and charged headlong. Unfortunately, that was the dumbest thing he could do. Even with his larger stature, her massive blade had better reach. And with her lower profile, pressing towards the ground and slashing at a charging man's legs was child play. She severed his left leg at the knees, getting out of his fall and wildly flailing swordarm.

“My Leg! You cut off my goddam le-gck!” His flailing was cut off short as she jabbed the sheeth of her sword into his face, knocking him out cold. “You know, its rude to step on a persons well earned mooshi” She said as she looted his pocket. IT came up with twelve credsticks, one of them containing about 2000 ryu. More money then she has seen in months. “Score...”

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The Lotus Pavilion, Hakuto, Planetside

The Lotus Pavilion was a classier place. But not by much. IT didnt stink of piss and cheap sake. It stinked of synthtobacco though, even worse then the Geisha did. It also smelled of expensive liquor and gambling regrets. A lot of regret. A chief contributer of that stench was Itsuki, who stared down at his mahajong tiles. A bottle of cheap mulled wine next to him.

“You look nervous, soldier-san” One of the men, a tall, blonde nad wirey looking fellow. He grinned at Itsuki, his teeth consisting just as much of silver and gold as it did teeth. Another man, smaller and more rotund, stared with beady eyes on the little money Itsuki had

Things had been going well enough up until this point. That was always the thing though, it was all going well. Then he fucks up. And he had fucked up. And from the look of his 3 fellow players, they smelled blood in the water. Losing money sucked, but iy wasn’t the worst part of his little conundrum. He was about to lose a overstretched hand, he had bet what he didn’t have. And this establishment would surely look upon him unfavorably as a result. Very Unfavorably. He had no choice, but to do fall back on old tactics.

Cheating.

Itsuki took a deep swig of the mulled wine and eyed the two men as called over for more drink, as the rather scantily clad girl moves to provide him, he jostled the table a little, making the wine of the blonde spill over his yukata. As he swore and asked the lady for more wine as well, she leaned in. The sight of cleavage drew the eyes of the beady looking fellow. With lightning fast hands, Itsuki switched to tiles out for a pair inside his sleeve.

Avoiding to look at the man right in front of him, the third of his opponents had half his face in a plastic mask of sorts, with one red, cybernetic eye staring holes in the former soldier. Then, with utmost care, Itsuki stared into that one cybernetic eye and said.

“Yakuman” He let out a soft sigh of relief. “ kokushi musou - Yakuman.” His repeated as his smile spread from nervous and apologetic to the biggest, widest shiteating grin he could possible produce while the pale blonde with his many metal teeth stared, jaw on the floor. The beady eyed, fat short one snarled and cursed. But the stranger with the eye smiled. While Itsuki began to collect his winnings, a hand shot across the table and grabbed his wrist. The hand was entirely cybernetic, the pressure causing Itsuki to wince.

“That’s funny…” And they showed their tiles “Look, I have sū-ankō… So I got Yakuman… as well” The voice was strange, synthetic. The person in front of him leaned in. “Share the pot? Or Exhaustive draw, I have a feeling your luck.. won’t hold.” Itsuki gulped. “S-share the pot.” He said, as as watched the strange cybernetic fellow eye the pot and quickly take his share.

As the other man got up and walked away, Itsuki went to do the same. That’s when he saw a strange signet ring on the the mechanical mans hand. One he recognized: NobuZai. His blood went cold. You would not wear such a thing lightly. It was a proof of station, and dna encoded to only be worn by its selected user. Itsuki waited for the man to leave then quickly set to tail him.

---

Current Staring Locations:

The Neon Geisha:

A seedy locale thats nestled deep within the city core, only reached by traversing the “Oni Roads”, a series of renovated sewers that has since been turned into the goto place for a lot of the cities less desirable. A place were all sorts of down on their luck people gather as well as people looking for a good fight or the redlight district.

The Lotus Pavilion

Above ground, but only barely. The Lotus pavilion is actually huge, spanning five floors. All of them a place for mahjong and other ways to gamble. The top floor has only high stakes games, and is not a place you easily gain entrance to.

Tranquility Gardens:

Somewhere in the middle tiers, the Tranquility gardens consists of a series of rooftops, bridges and hovering platforms that have been converted to a massive traditional zen garden. Complete with waterfalls and artificial rivers that end up in waterfalls cascading down to ground level. Here, people seek peace, converse about the spiritual and eternal and study the ways of Tao, Shintoism and Buddhism as well as a myriad of other less established faiths.

Genzoku Plaza:

The Genzoku is the most prestigious of all places in the city. Here, the rich move and shop for extravagant luxuries or partake in outlandish entertainment. Its situated on the doomed rooftops of some of the biggest buildings and platforms. Free from the exhaust and smog of the lower levels.

Current situation:
Something sinister moves in our midst.

Where ever you choose to start, a person wearing a NabuZai signet ring is present and will likely catch your attention. You can choose to follow my lead, or make up your own mystery man to follow or react to. The only rule is that they all have some sort of visible enhancement and slinks away before you can engage them properly.

_{Tranquility Gardens}

While Sơn could not much taste the tea these days, the warmth still felt pleasant in his throat. He sipped it through a straw--when he had asked for one, the serving girl had a puzzled expression on her face until she saw his--while he watched the scene before him. Dressed in a worn monk's robes that he had obtained and under his jingasa, in this garden he would have looked the picture of a mendicant ascetic or ragged scholar enjoying tea while surrounded by blossoming flowers. Another man his age might have felt content.

Yet Sơn was rather unsettled. There was, of course, the situation with his future employment. Sơn had considered simply offering his spear, right now at his side inside the saya and looking no more dangerous than a spade, to one or another zaibatsu lord. But that would have left him no better off than before, once again a low-ranking bushi at his age. The ambition he had would not allow him to accept that again; he would prefer to simply die in this garden if that were to be the case. To find an opportunity to thrust himself into the great events of the day was why he had left the Nobuzai in the first place. These thoughts led up to the more present cause of his unease, the man that was now seated on a bench a little ways across from Sơn.

Sơn had only caught the man, and the flash of his ring, by chance as the other entered the gardens, afterwards speaking to the serving girl who had brought tea to Sơn earlier. While these connections were only tenuous, Sơn still wondered at the chances of that ring bearing the Oda mokko. He sipped his tea again and thought back to the underworld hacker who had removed the tracking implants for Sơn. While Sơn had made sure the job was done correctly, the hacker could still, of course, be made to talk, and the Nobuzai agents had their ways of doing that. While Sơn did want to face off with the Nobuzai, and did think that dying in this garden would not be too bad, to do so in a street fight with some mere underling would be immensely unsatisfying.

It could, Sơn thought, simply be his nerves that made him think the other man was eyeing him every so often and pretending otherwise. Experience had made him careful, perhaps overly so. Still, he was done with his tea, and it would not profit him to linger in any case. He pulled the jingasa lower over his brow and stood up to leave, taking his spear with him. His bad leg bothered him a bit from sitting too long, but he ignored it. After all, as Sơn would not suffer accepting an inelegant death, he planned on living at least as long again as he already had, and he would have to get used to it sometime.

_@Hellis

Haruka sat, miserable, at the bar of a sake house she didn't even remember the name of. The place had originally been pretty nice, most of the furniture and flooring made of real wood, but years of neglect and fights had scarred everything pretty heavily. The clientele were definitely of the rowdier sort, this place being next door to the entrance of the infamous Lotus Pavilion, where she had left her recent employer to his fate. He had hired her as a bodyguard, but neglected to inform her that he expected her to help him cheat, and then was surprised when she let the Yakuza enforcers take him away to some interior room or another floor. The manager of that particular area had given her a nod and let her walk out unaccosted. Without the cheat having paid her yet, since he had promised payment by the end of her contract at midnight, she was forced to go without a real meal.

Thankfully, the owner of the place she was currently in was the brother of another recent client, and one who had had much better luck and had been quite happy with her services, though the three men who had tried to rob him were decidedly less so. Well, maybe they were. Their lives may have been utter garbage before she had cut them down in that stinking alley, she didn't know. At any rate, it had bought her some cheap noodles and sake here by trading on her success, so here she sat. Her stomach wouldn't grumble tonight, at least, as it had so many nights since she had arrived here on this planet.

She tossed back another cup of sake, eyes a little bleary, and was upset to find that, when tipped to pour, her bottle was empty of any further libation. She set it down, and was about to try and flag down the barman and pry another from him, when she felt a hand grab her chest from behind. A disgusting voice, breath reeking of liquor, said loudly in her ear, “Hey, baby, how about you and me head on over to the- URK!”

She pulled the offending hand off of her by the wrist, twisting it hard as she did so. Her left elbow snapped up and back, catching the scruffy peasant in the throat and leaving him gurgling, hanging by the wrist she still held as he slumped to the floor. His free hand futilely grasped at his throat.

“Oh calm down, idiot, I didn't strike hard enough to kill even one as weak as you,” she snarled, dropping the captive limb in disgust. She pushed him away with a foot, and was turning back to the bar when her eye caught movement in the room. Several other men had just stood from a table, looking drunk and angry, and above all stupid. But, as she sighed and stood, at least she would get some exercise today. Another man, standing from the other end of the bar, also caught her attention. This one was very clearly augmented, and a glint of differently coloured metal on a mechanical hand drew her eye to a ring. The distance was too great to make out details, but the way he moved make her think of a bounty hunter, and if that ring held a Takeda insignia, she was in trouble.

Before she could move to intercept the man, he turned to leave. And the three idiots were charging across the room, through other patrons, which looked like it was probably going to start a brawl. ”So much for coming back here any time soon,” she thought to herself. As the men came around the last table and at her, she launched into a charge, moving fast enough that none of them had a chance to react. She left her blades on her hip, instead using her limbs. The first she reached took a kick straight into his kneecap, bending the limb backwards. As he fell, she moved past him with a vicious elbow to the temple. The next attempted, poorly, to punch her. She caught the fist, twisted the arm straight, and slammed her palm into the outside of the elbow, snapping it. The third man grabbed a bottle from the nearby table and attempted to hit her in the head, but she ducked, letting him take the man with the broken arm in the face instead. He also clearly didn't know what he was doing, as the bottle shattered wrong, shredding the inside of his hand as well as the other mans face. She let the second fall, the punch the bottle-user twice in the sternum, up and under, seizing his diaphragm. He fell, caught between screaming in pain and coughing from the blows, sounding more like he was choking to death than anything else.

Around her, the entire place had erupted into chaos. Tables had been flung away, glass smashed, liquor soaking into everything. Many men were engaged in enraged, life-and-death struggles. Some, Haruka knew, were coming off of hefty losses in Mahjong and other games next door, and were suddenly presented with a way to vent their rage. Other were criminals and the desperate. It made for a violent combination any day, but her own fight has proved to be a spark for the entire powder keg.

Before she could get caught up in another assault or be asked to pay for damages, she slid past a few pairs of grappling patrons and made her way out to the street. Glancing around, she did not see the mysterious bounty hunter, which made her nervous on top of the adrenaline that chased the sake out of her system. She took the time to straighten her clothes, check her blades, and re tie her ponytail, then made her way down the street, past the Lotus Pavilion entrance. The guards there nodded at her, but their attitude made it clear she was not welcome after what had happened earlier, so she kept moving. Maybe she would find another client before the day was out.

Roen was sitting against a wall of the tavern, leaning back and idly sipping on his drink after a surprisingly half-decent meal. He was watching the crowd, cybernetic eye quickly scanning over faces. The Neon Geisha was the kind of place a bounty might wander into on occasion though Roen wasn't expecting much, the glance couldn't hurt though and besides, there was other ways to occupy himself around here if nothing turned up.

The scuffle between a girl with a large nodachi and some ronin didn't go beneath his notice but neither did it hold his attention, such fight tend to happen in seedy joints like this. Instead his eye caught another patron, a woman across the room that seemed to be frustrated with the device in her hands. Despite the respirator covering part of her face his eye was able to recognize her and his HUD brought up information about her bounty. Tomoe Gozen, 'The Mad Dog of Taishi' he chuckled to himself at that, the samurai and their nicknames, continuing to read the info as he watched her he found that most things were standard nut the bounty was sizable, she must have pissed someone off.

Just as he was beginning to think of how he'd go about things she got up and started after that shifty Nobuzai. He'd noticed the odd figure awhile ago but brushed it off, since this was formerly Nobuzai space he assumed it was a spy or something along those lines. If the bounty was anything to go by this Tomoe was not fond of the Nobuzai so whatever business she had with the man wasn't going to be pleasant for him, and if she had the sense to drag him someplace secluded before engaging in it well...she'd put herself right in the perfect spot for him.

Either way he couldn't just let her get away so once she was almost outside he got up and made his way out, past the white-haired girl looting the thugs she took on, and into the street to keep after Tomoe.

G E N Z O K U P L A Z A

---

Jiryu scissored half-breaths as he ran across the rooftops which hung high over Genzoku Plaza. Backlit sun toasted his skin and sweat barreled down the back of his neck; as he neared the edge of a massive shopping center rooftop he prepared to leap. One foot set his balance, the next was his gather, and with the third he soared across the cavity between the two buildings. The red keikogi and hood puffed as he sailed along the long gap and he landed with a roll. From his waist he drew a kunai; a twist of his body and he hurled the projectile with an efficiency gained by only the finest shinobi, for that is what Jiryu of the White Tiger clan was.

Kuroguro had his path impeded by the hurling ninja star, a twist of his body within three seconds of impact helped deter a fatal wound, but still shredded Kuro’s own indigo keikogi along the right arm and left a horizontal open wound to trail blood down his garb's side. He had to re-adjust the angle of his own leap; a roof turbine vent is where he made his new launch pad. Ascending it with a few less-than-calculated-steps, the Lotus leapt high and propelled himself along the same gap over which Jiryu had conquered some seconds before. Kuro landed with a roll and a grunt; he was not as nimble or as fast as the shinobi who was ten years his junior, and his body was letting him know in the most subtle ways these days.

Kuro rose from the ground; Jiryu of the White Tiger had taken off already. He was nearly across the length of a much wider roof when Kuro pulled a kunai of his own, the blade face etched with an eagle; it was the one with which Kuro never missed, or so the legend went. Between his index and middle finger he clutched the throwing dagger and bent his elbow back and then when he had it properly knocked, he let the kunai fly. Its trajectory was blinding, the mechanical ease with which Kuro moved through the throwing motion helped him eject and spring the kunai at a speed which appeared superhuman to the untrained eye. It was not true that he always got his target with this particular kunai but it was true that over the years his hit and miss ratio was above somewhere in the sixty fifth percentile. How shallow and embellished did word of mouth become.

Jiryu of the White Tiger had a kunai pinned in his shoulder blade before he knew it, and the pain which trounced up his spine and back down both of his legs and then settled into the soles of his feet made him drop and fumble on hand and knees. Dust marked the point of Jiryu’s collapse, and from behind it, the Lotus appeared. Hood and fukumen shrouding the ebony man’s face still. Jiryu rolled over and crab-crawled backwards.

“Hurry up and do it! Lord Onaga will fight you Koga dogs to the de--” near impregnable black smoke rose from between Jiryu and Lotus. Both coughed, almost in sync. From the pit of the smoke rose a figure, a man who who was clad in a business suit, bearing a NobuZai signet; his hand was made of metal. Before Kuro could make sense of what happened and the smoke had cleared, the NobuZai agent and Jiryu of the White Tiger had disappeared into the night.

Streetlights flashed below, all Kuro could see was a red keikogi bounced against the melanoid night. He pulled his hood and fukumen from his face and let out a deep breathe; his breathing was rapid and he was hyped on adrenaline. How he would relay to Lord Izanagi how his prey had gotten away concerned him briefly; what had his attention more were the cup of noodles and the ice bath he was about to take when he got home.

Moving swiftly, the girl with the nodachi pocketed her illfound gains and headed after the NobuZai, both sword back in their respective sheathes. She had no flack with the Nobu, but taking out a agent or a samurai would likely afford her some pretty good liqour and she was still settling down, she didn’t need some asshole starting shit. The man moved with grace and speed, she found herself half jogging just to keep up with his long strides.

When he decided to stop, she knew something was up. The man turned around in a flash, his arm whipping up to toss a pair of kunai her way. She just barely dodged them only to realize the street was abandoned all of the sudden.

“W-what” She mumbled as she saw a bunch of thugs appear.

---------

He tried to be is inconspicuous as possible as he moved upstream the masses of people just leaving work at a local meatpacking plant. The smell of offal was strong around here, and the myriad of people made it hard to keep track of the cyborg looking man who had caught his interest. He kept bumping shoulders and being pushed back, as the man disappeared further and further into the crowd.

Luckily for him, someone decided to start a row. It wasn’t an unusual sight to see, this part of town had so many bar brawls and out of hands street fights that local riot police had two wagons on standby only a block away. No doubt, the iron fist of the Date Police force would soon descend upon the masses. This had the effect of people shifting away from the fight, and the herd of people thinned out enough for Itsuki to move more freely. Just int time to catch the man ducking down an alley.

“Oh no you dont” Ibuki mumbles under his breath as he slips on his mouth guard, setting off on a light run after the man. If he lost them now, he would never catch them among the alleyways. Rounding the corner he saw the man head down a pair of stairs leading down towards the even seedier parts of the station.

“Oh god dammit” He swore as he broke out into full run as the man headed towards one of the elevators. Only then did he notice the another two men. They shot out from the shadows, blades not yet drawn. They wore similar vagabond clothing as the first man, and wore signet rings just like him. They moved in tandem, catching Itsuki off guard and midstep. Their blades still in their sheaths, he knew instinctively what the were. “Fuck, Iaa Kenpo. I am not going to be able to guard in time“

Haruka was still idling, thought-wise. The bar fight had sobered her up, and now she was feeling the gnawing aggravation that was her normal state of mind, stuck on this planet without a way to fulfill her goals. Between restlessness and depression, her days were filled with a bleakness that didn’t go away, though the booze she spent a good portion of her money on did help dull the ache, even if it did also dull her senses.

Right now, however, with adrenaline still in her system, her senses were as sharp as when she had still been serving. Which was why she caught the sound of quick-shuffling feet, the telltale sounds of blades rattling in scabbards, the quickened breath of surprise off to her right. A quick glance told her it was one man being ambushed, and not by standard thugs. the way they moved was far too precise. The odds, and it being an ambush, led her training to split-second decisions onto a course, and without a moment’s hesitation, she launched herself across the gap and down the stairs, over the head of the ambush, her right knee driving into one of the attackers temples as she roared out a battle cry.

The fourth participants sudden entrance was led by a knee and a roar that was similar to that of many samurai. But for the first time in a while, Itsuki didn’t feel pang of anger or fear over it. He felt relief as he saw one of the cybernetically enhanced assassins stagger backwards, shocked and awed enough to throw his ally out of rhythm. That second extra was all Itsuki needed, his spear flashing upwards in arch, monoblade clashing against monospear in a shower of sparks. The pair of unlikely allies found themself staring down the well armed, eerily quiet assassins. “We’ve been made.” The one they had been following said matter of factly.

“No matter.” Said one of the ambushing pair, the one not nursing their face from where a knee had struck. Her voice was female, heavily synthesized. “We’ll dispose of them and make our way to the rendezvous”

“Bushi-Onna. I hope your good with that blade.” Itsuki said, his voice tinny from the face protector he wore.

Kitamura nodded, long ponytail bobbing behind her head, as she drew her katana. It was nothing special, a simple monoblade, but she held it firm and steady. “Indeed, I can take these fools.” Without another word, she leapt to the attack, howling fury as she flashed forward at the one she had struck coming in. Her blade flickered out to meet his response, but unlike most, she continued forward, planting one foot on his knee and smashing an elbow at his face, keeping her own blade against his and out of the way. As her first opponent stumbled back from the blow, she launched herself full tilt at the next, using her foot’s position to fling herself forward in a blur and clash with the man’s blade as he attempted to cut her apparently open back.

As she did so, she hollered at her temporary ally, “I will handle these two, take the other!”

“Better you than me Lady!” He shouted as he went for the remaining one. His spear thrust against the man with speed and precision, turning into a upwards sweep for his face. The man dodged to the side, trying to sling his blade with the spear as guide, aming to literally cut the ashigerus hands off by the wrists. It was a classic move, one that Itsuki had seen many a time. He rolled to the side, sliding his hand back to the very back of the spears shaft, turning it into a wild, forcefully leveled swing at his attacker. His attacker who , moved with him, dancing in closer to impale him. Itsukis leg shot out in a kick to the mans thigh, causing him to lose balance and itsuki clipped him with the shaft and shoved him off to a safe distance, spear ready for any hasty attempt to regain lost ground.

None came. The two men stood staring, both with their weapons defensive position.
“I would have your name, Ashigeru. Someone of your skill could have risen in our ranks. Nobu does not care if your noble or common, all that serve and possess strength are welcome.”

”Overhead. Right cross. Combo to left, right, upwards swing. Punch with off hand, kick to knee.” Kitamura was growing frustrated. The man seemed to have a counter for every strike she made. Was she really that rusty? She knew she had only seconds before the other opponent would be at either her back or the commoners, neither of which was acceptable. She cursed herself as her katana was suddenly swept out of her hand while she was distracted, leaping back to avoid the follow-through strike. The clatter of the blade hitting the wall of the alley and skittering down the steps rang out in the enclosed space. She grimaced, reaching to her back.

“Surrender and die with honour, girl. You fought well, but you will not take me with a wakizashi.” The man stepped forward. She registered it as being inside her kill zone with her main weapon. Her hand found it, slid it out from her obi, and set her thumb on the catch. Her other hand swept up, drawing her wakizashi, making her look vulnerable.

The assassin, for that must be what he was to fight like this, or else a samurai on a mission, stepped forward, in an obvious, though skilled, ploy. His katana went up over his head, signalling his intent to come straight down, though she knew the most common move for any samurai in this position was to feint, and move the blade into a horizontal cut below the guard of the one defending. She did as she was bidden, wakizashi rising to meet the downward stroke.

As his blade turned, just the way she was expecting, she darted forward, her enhanced speed giving her just enough of an edge. The point of her wakizashi met the man’s forearm, though she had wanted to take it off at the wrist, but did not hesitate in slamming it up to the hilt, between the bones and out the other side. In the same motion, she spun her back to him, and her naginata snapped out, telescoping to its full length, the blade slamming into position with a practised jolt. As the man screamed, she spun, meeting the other’s blade with the shaft of her weapon, built specifically to withstand monoblades.

“You thought me just a girl. Your mistake, Nobunaga filth,” she snarled in old Japanese..

“Ah. I get to reap a handsome reward today. I thought I recognized that pretty face.” The female NobuZai assassin said, seemingly unphased by her comrades predicament.

Meanwhile, Itsuki grew tired of the stalemate, with a forward thrust in the same way as before, he went in. This time however, his stance shifted low as his thrust went into a sweep. The Samurai lept backwards, suddenly on the defensive, deflecting thrust after thrust in a cascade of sparks.

“Whats the matter tincan. Can’t keep up with a lowly Ashigeru!?” Itsuki taunted, even though he found he was no closer to scoring a real blow. The deflections were impossibly precise, the angle always just right for the sword to come up for another perfect parry or side step.

“You’re good, as expected by someone who served with the Date Dragon Spears. I always thought the Date should value his common soldier more. Regardless, I have had enough fun. Hikai, if your still alive by the end of this, you know what to do.” The man said in enervating calm tone. As if he wasn’t two inches away from being a samurai kebab. Then, suddenly, he swept aside spear with hard deflection and grabbed the shaft with robotic hand. With a tug, he almost lifted Itsuki along with the spear, putting him off balance. And letting go of the spear, he flung his hand back against the soldier with a backhand that sent Itsuki flying. Itsuki felt a rib crack as a pule of energy impacted him at the same time as the backhand to his sternum did.

Her new opponent was good, able to dodge most of the blows she aimed, but unable to penetrate Haruka’s defenses. Haruka, for her part, kept pressing forward. Most styles dictated keeping away with a polearm, reducing the risk to the wielder while still endangering the opponent. But her training had enforced that, since her naginata was built out of ultra hard materials, every part of it was as good as a kanabo, as long as she could use it correctly. So she pressed, using the middle of the shaft to block a cut before slamming the blunt end down onto her opponent’s foot, then levering herself up off the ground and slamming the entire length of the weapon into the woman’s chest. The end she balanced on kept her from regaining her footing, and she fell backwards onto the man with a wakizashi in his arm. He had just removed it, and while Haruka would have been satisfied to have it accidentally buried into the woman’s back, she felt far better as her weapon’s blade buried point first into her stomach.

She pulled it out, spun, and took the man’s head off as he was struggling under the dead weight of his compatriot. Kitamura took the time to kick their swords away, in case they still had life in them, then turned to see where the commoner was. Which was mid-air, flying directly at her. She had no time to do anything but put the shaft of her naginata vertically between the two of the before the impact sent them both tumbling to the ground.

Smashing into the pretty woman samurai, he was pretty sure her damn naginata impacted his already cracked rib and he let out a noise like a kicked puppy before his momentum carried them back, him rolling of from the sheer speed before lying gasping on the ground. As he used his spear to push himself up to standing, he saw the man go down the elevator. “Shimatee..” And then something else made him swear.

Up in the sky, the fortress in orbit.

Exploded.

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G E N Z O K U P L A Z A

The sky lit up in a massive explosion as the entire station went nuclear out of seemingly nowhere. Second later, the tell tale flashes of ships jumping into the system began to appear like ominous, dying stars on the nigh sky. There was screams and confusion, swearing as soldiers nad samrurai on leave began running to their barracks and docked ships. Just as suddenly as the invasion started, a number of men drew monoblades in the crowd and began to cut people down indiscriminately, adding to the chaos and panic.

The sky above began streaking red as drop pods and worse, ascending iron samurai made their way towards the surface.

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THE BATTLE FOR HAKUTO

The system has come under suprise attack by the NobuZai. Your mysterious quarries are NobuZai samurai and assassins. These come in two “ranks”. Defeat or hinder their advances in your post. Feel free to make use of random Dates as cannon fodder for your legend to grow. By the end of each round of posts, I will shift the battles balance in accordance of how well I think we are doing.

Higher Ranked NobuZais are samurai and accomplished shinobi. These ones are to tough to take on by yourself, and can easily kill you if you get cocky. Team up with comrade to take them down!

The soldier and low rank assassins are a even match, you can beat them but you do so at a cost.

The lower ones are rabble and thugs who been paid off to riot and rebel . Cut them down as you see fit.

Iron Samurai are unbeatable in our current state.

Current Battle Balance: NobuZai are winning. Date are scrambling.