Reborn as a Space Mercenary: From Salaryman to Galactic Legend

The air in the guild's strategy room was heavy with tension. Ethan sat at the rectangular table, fingers tapping a quiet rhythm against the cool metal surface. Above the table, a holographic map of Kynara projected a stark contrast of vibrant blue territories controlled by the Federation and its supposed allies and ominous red zones firmly in the grip of the Syndicate. As his eyes moved across the display, a knot of apprehension twisted in his chest.

Beside him, Zyrix leaned back in his chair, casually cleaning the lens of his plasma sniper rifle, though his sharp gaze darted to the map with practiced vigilance. Kael, ever the pragmatic strategist, was furiously tapping on his tablet, cross-referencing the new intel Ethan and his team had brought back from their mission.

At the head of the table stood Darrik Voss, the Branch Master, his weathered face set in a grim expression. The room's silence was broken only by the soft hum of the hologram projector, as if the air itself held its breath for what was about to be said.

Voss straightened, his gaze sweeping across the room. "The intel you brought back from the auxiliary base is troubling," he began, his deep voice carrying a weight of authority. "Vela Drasik is on the move. Her forces are mobilizing faster than we anticipated."

Kael tapped a command into his tablet, zooming the map in on a cluster of Syndicate-controlled zones. "She's not just regrouping, she's preparing a counteroffensive," he said, highlighting the key areas with flashing markers. "We estimate she's pulled several hundred soldiers from her manufacturing hub, along with combat drones and heavy weaponry. If we don't act, she'll sweep through our reclaimed territories and establish a staging ground to push toward Valeris City."

Zyrix let out a low whistle, his usually sardonic demeanor giving way to a more serious tone. "That's a lot of firepower for one warlord. Either she's more desperate than we thought, or she's got something big planned."

"Desperation and ambition often go hand in hand," Voss replied. His scarred hand hovered over the map, his fingers tightening into a fist. "If she succeeds, we'll lose more than just territory. We'll lose the confidence of the people we're trying to protect. And make no mistake, Valeris City will be their next target."

Ethan frowned, his mind racing through the possibilities. "If we know where she's mobilizing, why not strike first?"

Kael shook his head. "It's not that simple. Her forces are spread across multiple locations, and each one is heavily fortified. A direct assault would stretch us too thin, leaving other fronts vulnerable."

"So, what's the alternative?" Ethan asked.

Voss stepped forward, his expression hardening. "We need allies."

The word hung in the air like a challenge. Zyrix arched an eyebrow, breaking the silence with a dry chuckle. "Allies? From where? The Federation's turned a blind eye, and we're stretched as it is."

"Not from the Federation," Voss replied firmly. He zoomed out the hologram, highlighting a section of unaligned territories marked in gray. "The resistance."

Kael stiffened. "You can't be serious."

"I'm entirely serious," Voss said. "The resistance groups in these regions have been fighting the Syndicate long before we got involved. They know the terrain, they have the numbers, and most importantly, they have a vested interest in seeing the Syndicate fall."

"They also have a vested interest in not trusting us," Kael countered. "To them, mercenaries are just another group looking to profit off Kynara's misery. You're talking about allying with people who likely hate us as much as they hate the Syndicate."

Voss's gaze didn't waver. "They may hate us, but they hate the Syndicate more. If we can convince them to work with us, even temporarily, it could turn the tide in this campaign."

Zyrix leaned forward, his tone skeptical. "And if they refuse? Or worse, decide to turn on us later?"

"Then we'll deal with it," Voss replied bluntly. "Right now, we don't have the luxury of sitting on our hands and hoping for the best. The Syndicate is adapting faster than we anticipated, and if we don't start doing the same, we're done."

Voss highlighted a region on the map, an arid desert settlement fortified with natural barriers. " Joran Kren leads one of the most influential resistance factions in the northern territories. He's pragmatic, resourceful, and ruthless. If we can bring him to our side, the other factions may follow."

Kael crossed his arms. "Joran Kren also despises mercenaries. He's made that clear in every public statement he's ever given. Sending anyone to negotiate with him is a gamble."

"And that's why I'm sending Ethan," Voss said.

Ethan blinked. "Me?"

"You've proven yourself under pressure," Voss explained. "You're adaptable, you've taken on missions most wouldn't, and you've earned respect within the guild. If anyone can convince Joran, it's you."

Zyrix smirked. "Good luck with that. Kren's the kind of guy who'd rather shoot first and skip the talking."

"That's why you're going with him," Voss replied, turning to Zyrix. "As backup."

Zyrix gave a mock salute. "Got it. Babysitting duty."

Kael interjected, his voice tinged with concern. "Even if Joran agrees, his faction is fractured. Internal rivalries have weakened their cohesion. Getting them to work with us won't be easy."

"I know," Voss said. "But this isn't about forming a lasting alliance. It's about survival. We give them clear terms, mutual cooperation, shared resources, and an exit strategy once Vela is dealt with."

"And if they don't like our terms?" Ethan asked.

"Then we walk away," Voss replied. "We're not here to beg. We're here to propose a partnership. If they can't see the value in that, they're not worth our time."

Ethan nodded, his resolve hardening. "Understood."

As the meeting adjourned, Ethan lingered by the hologram, his eyes tracing the red zones that marked the Syndicate's growing influence. The weight of the task ahead pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he pushed the doubts aside.

"You ready for this?" Zyrix asked, slinging his rifle over his shoulder.

Ethan turned to him, his expression resolute. "Not really. But that's never stopped me before."

Zyrix chuckled. "Fair enough."

The two made their way to the vehicle bay, where a rented hover truck awaited. The engine hummed softly as Ethan climbed into the driver's seat, and Zyrix settled in beside him.

As the truck sped toward the northern desert, Ethan's mind raced. Convincing someone like Joran Kren wouldn't be easy. But if the mission succeeded, it could shift the balance of power in the guild's favor.

The Syndicate was growing bolder, but so was the guild. For the people of Kynara, failure wasn't an option.