Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic][R1/2][Fusion] The Saotome Gambit Part 6
From: Jamie and Bridget Wilde
Date: 3/7/2000, 10:52 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com
Reply-to:
wildeman@psn.net

 

-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: TSG-6.txt

                              Chapter One

              Nerima Confederation Phoenix Hawk LAM #T507-1
                   12,000 meters above Mean Sea Level
                      Planet Nerima, Capella System
                             2 March 3025



     The pressure suit inflated against Ranma Saotome's stomach and thighs 
with a soft hiss, constricting and keeping precious blood where it was 
needed. A grunt of exertion sounded over the crackle of the aircomm net. 
To anyone on the ground who might have looked straight up in that moment, 
he was a rapidly climbing black dot against the clouds.
     The LAM's engine turbines shrilled above and behind him, and the low 
drone of the fusion plant was a rumble in the pit of his stomach. Watching 
his engine status with half an eye, he eased the throttles forward and 
into overthrust. The reaction was almost instantaneous; a kick in the seat 
of the pants and the sudden howl of the turbines as raw helium plasma was 
dumped into the thrust coils. His relative airspeed - along with his 
altimeter - jumped dramatically, pushing him through the sound barrier and 
into a zone of eerie silence.
     He was riding a fusion powered comet climbing straight for the empty 
heavens. Twin streaks of flame streamed from the drives with blue-on-blue 
shock diamonds burning brightly deep within the ducts. If he continued his 
climb he would find himself in low orbit very soon. It was tempting, but he 
was not cleared for an orbital burn by the local Close Orbital and Aerospace 
Control, or COAC. 
     The aircomm crackled in his ears as if to remind him of this.
     "Tango Five-Oh-Seven, Nerima COAC; please advise on your altitude 
excursion, over."
     Ranma thumbed the radio 'talk' button on his control yoke. Killjoys...
     "Nerima COAC, this is Tango Five-Oh-Seven; I thought I made it clear 
that I was conducting a performance test."
     "Copy that, Tango Five-Oh-Seven. Nerima COAC advises that you are not 
clear for flight operations above Flight Level Three-Zero-Zero."
     "Roger that," Ranma grumbled. A flick of his eyes across his HUD 
confirmed what he already knew: he wasn't even close to the 30,000 meters 
above Mean Sea Level limit!
     He eased off on the throttle, and pushed the nose of the Phoenix Hawk 
down into level flight. It was time to see what this thing's wings were made 
of. But first he would have to ask 'Mother May I?' from his babysitters.
     "Nerima COAC, this is Tango Five-Oh-Seven; request permission for 
unrestricted flight ops below Flight Level Three-Zero-Zero."
     There was a pause, probably longer than necessary.
     "Copy That, Tango Five-oh-Seven. You are clear for unrestricted flight 
ops below three-zero-zero and within the proscribed area. Squawk Three-Seven 
Hundred to confirm."
     Ranma dialed his 'mech's transponder setting to '3700' as ordered, 
and shoved the throttle forward again. The Phoenix Hawk LAM responded with 
another jolt of power and an angry scream from the engines. He set his 
leading edge trim with a brief thought through his neurohelmet, and then 
pushed the control column forward. The red and black aerofighter's nose 
sank towards the grassy veldt far below him. The Phoenix Hawk LAM was now 
in a steep full power dive. 
     Ranma sank into a deep trance, letting the myriad inputs from the 
'mech's internal sensors wash over him. He could feel the freezing bite of 
the rushing air over his wings as if it was his own skin, and the throbbing 
of the reactor coolant circulating pumps echoed the jiggling of his own 
insides as the ship tore straight down at the planet. Tiny stress gauges 
flexed and strained within the internal structure of the ship, keying him 
to the health of the machine. The steady drone of the inverters supplying 
direct-current power to the 'mech's myomer bundles told him of the integrity 
of the muscle groups and their power and control feeds. The faint tickling 
of microwave energy captured by his phased array radar receiver was clean 
and free of extraneous signal noise - a vital quality when his life could 
depend on the radar data he received in combat.
     All in all, Duke Tendo's 'loaner' was in fantastic shape. It was far 
superior to the old clunker he used to pilot. He was going to hate to have 
to give it up at the end of their wild goose chase for Ryuugenzawa.
     He pulled several hard banking turns, followed by a climbing inside 
loop that twisted into a split-S halfway through the maneuver. He gutted 
out the gee-forces with strangled gasps over the aircomm net, fighting for 
breath even as he squeezed his abdomen and thigh muscles with all his might 
to supplement the effects of his pressure suit. The procedure, which was as 
old as aerial combat, would let him take up to an additional gravity of 
acceleration before he risked a blackout. At the fringes of his vision 
lurked icy walls of darkness that threatened to swallow him. He eased off 
his second climbing loop slightly and felt the blood pounding in his brain 
with renewed vigor.


     Kasumi Tendo peered through a large set of field glasses to the open 
blue sky. Akane stood beside her as they watched Ranma's aerobatics from 
the castle's garden terrace. The sound of the Phoenix Hawk's engines was 
a low rumble, faint and distant as a far away thunderstorm.
     "He's quite a pilot," Kasumi observed.
     Akane didn't reply, causing her older sister's mouth to turn down 
slightly at the corners.
     "Akane?"
     "What is it, Kasumi?" she said wearily.
     "I don't understand why you are so angry at Ranma. He has always 
been very kind and polite to me."
     "Terrific," Akane snarled. "YOU marry him."
     Kasumi's eyes widened with momentary surprise. She then composed 
herself, and placed a friendly hand upon her baby sister's shoulder. 
"Akane," she began calmly. "That's no way to talk to me."
     Akane's shame was evident, and she cast her eyes to the grass at 
her feet. "I'm sorry, Kasumi."
     "Now I can understand why you are upset with the engagement," Kasumi 
went on. "Father has certainly outdone himself, but this promise must be 
kept. Our honor--"
     "--I understand about how honor must be met," Akane interrupted 
dourly. "You don't need to remind me about it."
     Kasumi tried another tack.
     "This can't be any easier for Ranma," she said, gesturing up into 
the sky where the red and black Phoenix Hawk courted the clouds. "You can 
try to look at things from his point of view at the very least."
     "I have," Akane replied.
     "And...?"
     "He's still a jerk," she concluded. "Even if this engagement isn't 
his fault."
     Kasumi tsked to herself.
     "For a jerk he certainly went out of his way to protect you."
     Akane tensed up with sudden ire. Leave it Kasumi to drag *that* old 
chestnut out of the fire!
     "Of course," she replied tersely. "After all, I'm his meal ticket, 
right?"
     "Akane, you know that he doesn't think of you like that," Kasumi 
scolded. "If he did, would he have insisted upon merely borrowing a 'mech 
that he knew Father was eager to *give* to him?"
     Akane bit her lip. Score another one for Kasumi.
     "Now, Akane. Tell me what's really bothering you. It's not just Ranma."
     Akane stepped back from her sister and sighed. "It's a lot of things, 
Kasumi. Ever since word of the Combine's attack on Calypso, I've been on 
edge. The 1st Nerima Guards are about to deploy for a counterattack. This 
could be the most important battle they will ever fight, and I won't be 
leading them! I should be with them, not getting ready to chase some stupid 
fairy tale!" 
     Kasumi nodded sympathetically. "I understand, Akane. But at the same 
time, if Mister Saotome is correct about Ryuugenzawa, then you will be a 
part of the expedition that can actually save the Confederation. Battles 
are won and lost, and soldiers live or die, but what matters most is the 
final outcome of the war."
     She stepped closer to her sister, placing both hands on her shoulders 
now. "Your burden won't be any easier than those of the troops on the 
battlefield, Akane, but your success will make their struggles and their 
sacrifices mean something worthwhile."
     Akane nodded slowly at her sister's words. 
     "I don't wish to weigh your spirit down any more than it is, Akane," 
Kasumi continued. "But the fate of our people rests in your hands, *and* in 
Ranma's. Promise me that you will work together for a future we can all be 
proud of."
     Akane looked up at her sister and saw the weariness that hung behind 
her eyes. No one had shouldered the burden of the war against the Furinkan 
Combine more than Kasumi. Though she was young and pretty looking by nearly 
anyone's standards, Akane could see how old and drained Kasumi felt inside.
This was more than just a motherly admonition from her sister, it was an 
urgent plea.
     Her heart clenched tight in her chest and her throat began to sting 
with grief. She caught Kasumi up in a fierce embrace, clinging tightly 
to her sister in a way she hadn't since she was very little. She felt 
Kasumi's arms close around her and hold her gently in response, and felt 
a single splash of warmth upon her arm that trickled down and was lost 
within the fabric of her blouse.
     "I promise, Big Sister," she whispered.
     "I know you'll do just fine," Kasumi responded. "You always make me 
proud, Akane. I know if Mother were here, she would feel the same way."
     They held each other for some time in silence, the knowledge
lingering in the backs of both their minds that this would be the last 
real time together they would have until the end of the war.
     "Oh my," Kasumi exclaimed suddenly. "Ranma is diving awfully steep 
for being so low to the ground."
     Akane turned from her sister to see the Phoenix Hawk LAM plummeting 
straight for the ground near the Battlemech Firing Range.
     "Pull up, you idiot...!" Akane whispered to the sky.


     A strident alarm tone sounded in his headset as the Phoenix Hawk LAM 
approached Vmax, or the maximum permissable velocity for the current 
atmospheric pressure and density. Ranma's hand clenched tighter on the 
throttle controls as his mind opened further to the cries of his stress 
gauges. He wanted to see right now how much punishment the fighter could 
really take, since the middle of battle was no time to discover your 
limitations.
     When the alarm inputs from the stress gauges in the wings and the 
vertical stabilizers began to sound, he eased the throttle back to seventy 
percent and gingerly pulled out of his dive. To 'flat-hat' the LAM so close 
to the edge of the performance envelope was asking to get your wings snapped 
off.
     He made it with an easy hundred meters to spare before he ran out of 
sky, and tugged at the transformation lever. The Phoenix Hawk barrel-rolled 
into airmech mode, a hybrid between sleek aerospace fighter and the human 
form Battlemech. The legs dropped down from the undercarriage and fired 
blue cones of braking thrust, stopping the 'mech in midair and bringing it 
into a hover.
     The aerofighter had performed as well as expected, though Ranma was 
well aware of the fact that his LAM was no match for a dedicated aerospace 
fighter of the same displacement. For one thing they were a lot faster, 
and definitely better armed and armored. That meant that any dogfights he 
found himself in would require him to fly with as much brains as guts.
     When the airmech was in a stable hover at ten meters, Ranma shifted 
it into Battlemech mode and dropped it to the loamy soil of the plains 
surrounding the mountain and the city of Gondolin. The fifty-ton war 
machine touched down into a crouch with a tooth-jarring impact and a 
groan of hydraulics, its gunpod heavy laser at the ready. Ranged on the 
plains before the Phoenix Hawk out to four hundred meters were numerous 
target silhouettes in the shape of battlemechs, tanks, and armored 
vehicles. 
     His gunsight floated in the HUD, its pipper an angry red dot haloed 
in green upon one of the targets. A squeeze of the trigger sent a pulse of 
light from the rifle-like heavy laser in the Phoenix Hawk's right hand. 
The beam burned into the steel target with a coruscating spray of sparks, 
its ten-thousand degree heat melting through the metal and bursting forth 
into a roiling cloud of vaporized iron.
     Ranma frowned at the results of his hit. The aimpoint was off by 
several radians, an error of about a meter at the maximum range of the 
laser, and completely unacceptable for an energy weapon. The targeting 
system was badly out of alignment. He could have the armorers realign the 
targeting system, but that was a band-aid fix. 
     Part of the problem lay in the LAM's Anderson 2000 series heavy laser, 
which was so unreliable that on this particular 'mech, it had been replaced 
with the standard Phoenix Hawk Harmon series weapon. The other part of the 
problem was that the LAM's fire control system had been specially designed 
around the primary weapon - a laser whose integrity had not stood the test 
of time and had been replaced.
     The odds of finding an Anderson 2000 laser in good working order 
almost two centuries after the production facilities had been bombed 
into rubble were practically nonexistent. The alternative was to find a 
Tek Tru-Trak fire control system, which was the standard Phoenix Hawk 
unit - but that was its own set of problems. For one thing, the engineering 
protocols that separated the two systems were almost two hundred years 
apart. Ranma didn't know of any techs who could gateway the older Tek 
system with the more modern Allied Aerospace technology without creating 
a cumbersome and unreliable mess.
     A dark thought passed through him, dimming several lines of indicator 
lights on his neurohelmet display and bringing a chirp of protest from 
his main computer. If Ryuugenzawa did exist, and was still intact, then 
he would never have to worry about jerry-rigged fire control systems 
ever again. But that would also mean that his father was right about 
Ryuugenzawa and that he was wrong. 
     The thought passed, and the neurohelm indicators shot back into the 
green. The Phoenix Hawk sprang forward, weapons blazing, as Ranma attacked 
the silhouettes with gusto. Those that were not burned down with his lasers 
felt the double-barreled punch of his arm-mounted twin Short Range Missile 
rack. Anything still standing was dealt a punishing series of kicks, stomps, 
punches, and chops. 

____________________________________________________________________________
           J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:

                     BATTLETECH: THE SAOTOME GAMBIT
                               PART SIX

                           by J. Austin Wilde
                       Safety Control Rod Axe Man,
                           Fission Park Press
                            wildeman@psn.net
                      http://www.psn.net/~wildeman/


            The characters and situations of Ranma 1/2 are the 
               creation and property of Rumiko Takahashi and 
            Shogakukan/KITTY/Viz Video. Battletech and its 
             related materials are the property of FASA, inc.
               No infringement of copyright is intended nor 
              should be inferred by this work of fanfiction.
___________________________________________________________________________


                              Chapter Two



     The Phoenix Hawk LAM drifted into the hangar bay on a column of 
superheated air from the leg thrusters. Genma Saotome watched Ranma guide 
the 50 ton airmech to a perfect touchdown in the designated revetment, and 
waited until the turbines began spooling down before approaching. Ground 
crew in heavy canvas and metal foil smocks were already connecting 
insulated hoses to the airmech's exterior coolant ports. 
     The tinted canopy rose from the fuselage, and Ranma's helmeted head 
became visible to him. Genma waited at the foot of the Phoenix Hawk as one 
of the ground crew extended the boarding ladder and climbed up to safe the 
ejector seat and help Ranma disconnect from the 'mech. The bundle of control 
and indication feeds, life support, and pressurization hoses were carefully 
removed and stowed in a clean plastic pouch. Only then was Ranma allowed to 
stand up and exit the ship, a formality that clearly irritated him.
     He unlocked the neck ring seals and twisted his helmet off. His black 
hair was matted against his head with sweat, and he looked worn from his 
exertions, but his eyes were bright with excitement.
     "How did it go, boy?" Genma asked his son.
     Ranma flashed him a 'thumbs up.'
     "Great," he replied. "Heck, it was almost worth the three year wait."
     Genma nodded in reply. "I'm glad to hear it. Don't bother washing up; 
I've got a mind to continue some necessary training with you."
     Ranma gave his father a sour look.
     "You gotta be kidding me," he said to him. "We already worked out 
today, and I just put myself through the nine-gee wringer up there. I'm 
beat."
     "All the more reason to train," Genma retorted. "You've got fifteen 
minutes to change out of your pressure suit and get to the big bore range."
     Ranma cracked his knuckles in frustration. It was nothing new to see 
Pop get gung ho over training, but there was something else in the tone of 
his voice that bothered him.
     "Whatever."



     The castle maintained a firing range at the base of the mountain for 
large caliber, or 'big bore' small arms; usually heavy machineguns, grenade 
launchers, and light cannon. Ranma was unsure what his father had in mind 
for training. He had maintained his proficiency in just about every crew-
served or man portable heavy weapon to be found in the Inner Sphere - in 
keeping with the Anything-Goes credo of being ready for anything at any 
time.
     Genma stood impatiently at the end of the firing line with a Krey 
Ballistics 20mm autocannon cradled in his massive arms. At first Ranma 
thought he was going to have to do something stupid like field strip and 
reassemble the thing blindfolded - a waste of time for someone who could 
practically do so in his sleep.
     Then he saw the boxes of Gelshok ammunition sitting on the shooter's 
bench. The hard gelatine projectiles were used in live-fire exercises by 
infantry against vehicles and battlemechs, and in more oppressive regimes 
they were used as less-than-lethal riot control measures. Getting hit with 
one in the 20mm range was the equivalent of getting popped with a 90 MPH 
fastball; not likely to cause a life-threatening injury, but definitely 
something that would knock the snot out of you. It was the sort of thing 
you wanted to avoid if you could help it.
     Which was, of course, the object of today's training.
     "How's the arm, boy?" Genma asked his son.
     Ranma rubbed at the mauve film of spray-on plastic flesh that protected 
his skin grafts.
     "It itches, but that's about it," he replied in a steely voice. He 
did not want to show his apprehension for the day's training, as it would 
be asking for trouble.
     Genma slapped an eight-round magazine into the weapon.
     "Good. You've obviously gotten out of practice against firearms, Ranma, 
and I mean to do something about that. We'll start at fifty meters for now, 
and work in from there."
     He jacked a shell into the chamber.
     "Get moving, boy."
     Ranma started for the fifty meter line without a word, dreading the 
moment when he would face his father over the barrel of a 20mm cannon. He 
didn't question the fact that he was going out there without any personal 
protection - complaining would only make it harder for him. He had learned 
that lesson well enough in the sixteen years he had spent training in the 
Anything Goes Style. Besides, this wouldn't be the first time he had done 
this drill cold, and the sooner he got it over with, the better.
     The fifty meter line was marked with metal target silhouettes of men 
and light vehicles. Ranma chose a spot between two targets that would give 
him a little room to manuever. His father must have paid off the Rangemaster, 
because he could not imagine any rational human being allowing this kind of 
activity on a firing range.
     Genma settled into a prone position at the firing line and took aim. 
It was hard to see him clearly from a such a distance, but Ranma focused 
himself to the task. His father would hold his breath just prior to 
shooting, and he was supposed to detect that subtle shift in the breathing 
pattern and react in time to keep from getting shot. He had to move before 
the trigger was squeezed, for even a less-than-lethal gelshok round was 
still traveling faster than the speed of sound. He'd get hit before he even 
heard the weapon's report.
     He jerked to the right as the cannon's muzzle leapt off the berm of 
the firing line. The shell sailed centimeters past his head, close enough 
to feel it zip by. His heart was pounding in his ears, deafening him to 
the sound of the gelshok round smashing into a flat pink splatter pattern 
on a silhouette at the hundred meter line.
     "What's the big freakin' idea of aiming at my head?!" he screamed at 
his father.
     Genma replied with another shot.
     Ranma realized this with enough time to only just throw himself clear. 
The passing shell clipped his tank top and ripped out one of the seams. 
Pink goo splattered against his skin in a stinging spray.
     "You've gone soft on me, Ranma!" Genma yelled when his son tumbled 
through an evasive roll to pop upright and ready for number three. "Don't 
think for a minute that you deserve having it easy after that disgraceful 
performance against your poor fiancee's kidnapper!"
     "Hey, I saved her, didn't I?" Ranma returned. He was angry, but also 
intensely focused, the adrenaline coursing through him and making time slow 
down.
     "Twenty meter line, boy!" Genma called, taking aim again. "Move your 
sorry ass!"
     Ranma sprinted for the twenty meter line, jinking just enough to spoil 
Genma's aim. His father was shooting from the kneeling position now, and 
fortunately for Ranma, the 20mm Krey had a hefty twelve pound trigger pull, 
which made it easy to see the forearm muscles flexing as Genma squeezed 
the trigger. The cannon fired as he stopped short, nearly catching him 
off-balance and out of luck, but not nearly enough. 
     "Have to do better than that!" Ranma chortled. He was in the groove 
now, and though being closer meant less time to react, at least now he was 
in a better position to see the shot coming.
     "Don't get cocky!" Genma shouted angrily. He fired again, aiming low 
for an extremely painful shot to the thighs. Ranma sidestepped it easily, 
and anticipated the follow up shot by leaping into the air and spinning to 
give himself the necessary angular momentum to dodge a third shot when he 
landed.
     The third shot didn't come. He landed on the balls of his feet, ready 
to break for safety, but Genma chose instead to stand.
     "Always jumping, eh boy?" he said tersely to his son. "Even in a 
'mech, that's your favorite tactic."
     "Hey, it works," Ranma returned.
     "It makes you predictable, you idiot!"
     Genma fired again, but Ranma was already bending double backwards. The 
pig-tailed martial artist planted his hands in the sandy soil and flipped 
over with a smug grin on his face. 
     Genma raised an eyebrow at this.
     "Not bad, boy. Not bad. You might make something of yourself yet."
     Ranma was taken aback by this. Compliments did not come freely from 
the lips of his father, even ones as shallow as this one. 
     "Hey, you really mean that?"
     "Of course not!" He fired again.
     Ranma remained still, letting the shell pass harmlessly over his head. 
His father gave him a hard look while still sighting down the barrel of the 
weapon.
     "Awfully sure of yourself, eh boy?"
     "Come on, Pop," Ranma said in reply. "What's the big deal with all of 
this? What gives?"
     Genma's face hardened and his eyes narrowed in distaste.
     "Has it occured to you that we're about to embark on one of the most 
dangerous missions of our lives? On top of that, we're going to be 
responsible for the safety of your fiancee. Don't think for one moment 
that I'm going to cut you any slack where her welfare is concerned!" 
     "What?" Ranma cried in disbelief. "No way! *She's* coming with us?"
     "That's right, son."
     "What for?" Ranma protested. "She's just gonna get in our way, and 
besides that, who says I even want her coming along?"
     "That's not your decision to make, Ranma," Genma said evenly. "Now 
are you going to stand there, or are you going to do something about this 
cannon?"
     "I'd like to shove it straight up your ass, old man."
     "You're long on talk, boy."
     Ranma remained where he was. 
     "Well?" Genma demanded of him.
     "You've only got one more round left in that thing," Ranma said to 
him. "So go ahead, take your shot. When you miss, I'm gonna beat the 
living shit out of you."
     Genma shook his head sadly.
     "Son, you had best hope that I miss."
     Ranma watched as his father drew taut, pulling the stock of the 
cannon hard up against the meaty spot of his shoulder to absorb the 
punishing recoil. His eyes noted the angle of deflection of the cannon's 
ribbed muzzle brake, and extrapolated an impact point. From there it was 
merely an exercise in getting that portion of his anatomy - the top of his 
head - out of the way. He ducked.
     The cannon's report at twenty meters was ear-splitting, but even worse 
was the sound of the shell passing over him. It was not the buzzing sound 
of a gelshok round, but the keening zing of something far more dangerous. 
     The sharp *crump* of an Armor Piercing EXplosive round sounded behind 
him as the shell burst against a silhouette. The ring of steel echoed in 
his ears as bits of shrapnel pattered to the ground. The APEX round had 
been too close at twenty meters to arm its explosive charge, but that 
wouldn't have mattered much if it had struck him in the head. He stood 
quaking with terror after the fact, not saying a word.
     "If you're to become a great martial artist someday, you can't take 
anything for granted, boy," Genma said, lowering the smoking muzzle of the 
cannon. "Not even me."



                           *       *       *



     Nothing was said between father and son as they returned to Azure 
Cloud Castle. Genma was satisfied with the training session - and with 
the effect it had on his son. Ranma was too angry with his father and too 
shaken by the live round that could have blown his head off to say anything.
     They were a familiar sight now with the troops garrisoned at the 
castle, and passed without pause through the layers of security that 
protected the Tendos. Soun had decided to let Akane loose from the dreaded 
South Tower, and the castle seemed a less foreboding place than it had in 
the days following the attempt to kidnap her. It was even beginning to feel 
like home, which was an odd experience for Ranma, who had never spent much 
time in any one place. Two weeks in the castle had seemed like two months 
elsewhere.
     That bothered him almost as much as his father's idea of training 
for the day. He was starting to get used to the idea of living in the 
castle and being at least a small part of the Tendos' lives. It helped 
that Kasumi was always there to make him feel at home. Because of the 
renewed offensive by the Furinkan Combine, Nabiki had just returned from 
wherever it was that the Duke had sent her, but she was staying in the 
city of Gondolin at the foot of the mountain and so wasn't around to make 
them feel like unwanted guests. Akane was still sore at him for gods only 
knew what reason, but then, what else was new?
     He guessed that none of it really mattered, because they were going 
to be getting underway within two days on their fool's errand to find 
Ryuugenzawa. The last logistical hang-ups were being resolved, and the 
DropShip that was to be their primary transportation between jump point 
and planetary surface was to arrive from the service yard sometime today. 
It would only take a day or so to load the DropShip, and then they could 
leave at any time.
     He had no idea when they would be returning, if ever. Should his 
suspicions about Ryuugenzawa prove correct, it would be a very long time 
before his father admitted defeat and gave up the search. Perhaps he 
never would, or at least not until he went to his grave.
     There was the crew to consider as well. They were supposed to be 
covert operatives and used to long term deployments, but they were still 
members of the Confederation armed forces, and at least a few of them had 
to have family somewhere. How long could the search last before the threat 
of mutiny reared its ugly head?
     Ranma saw that this was at the heart of his unease with his father's 
plan. For the last three years they had been going it alone, just the two 
of them, answering to nothing and no one. It was slow going without their 
own ships, but at least they didn't have to worry about what they would 
do if they had to beat a hasty retreat. Now they were going to have a 
whole crew of soldiers, sailors, and technicians along for the ride. The 
entire mission would depend on them in one way or another, and at the same 
time Ranma felt responsible for them, unnecessary baggage though they 
were in his eyes.
     They reached the Salon, a common hangout for them, and the place 
where Genma and Grand Duke Tendo often played a game of shogi. Since the 
Combine's renewed offensive against the Confederation, and word of troop 
movements by the League on their shared border, the Duke's time had been 
taken up with conferences and the hasty preparations for the expedition 
to Ryuugenzawa. It had been a busy few days.
     They did not expect to find the Grand Duke of the entire Nerima 
Confederation face down on the plush carpet, groveling before a wizened 
old man who looked less than a meter tall. 
     Ranma turned to his father for an explanation, but his old man was 
frozen in place, his face ashen with fear and dismay.
     "Hey Pop, what gives?"
     The geezer who stood imperiously over the Duke turned to face them 
upon hearing this.
     "So, if it isn't Genma Saotome..." he intoned. "I never thought I'd 
lay eyes on your sorry carcass ever again."
     Tears sprang from Genma's eyes.
     "Master!" he cried, and flung himself prostrate before the old man. 
"Oh Master, I'm so glad you're safe and sound! We feared the worst!"
     "Stuff it," Happousai replied, drawing his finger across his throat. 
"I didn't come here for revenge." He cast a glance towards the Duke. "You 
two took your best shot, but truth be known, you should have finished me 
off personally rather than leaving me to die at the bottom of the ocean. 
If you clowns had actually paid attention to the charts, you'd have known 
the water wasn't all that deep there to begin with. Even a Locust has more 
watertight integrity than what a mere two-hundred meters of sea pressure 
can dish out."
     Ranma cocked his head in wonderment.
     "Who's this old freak?" he asked his groveling father. "And what'd he 
do to make you want to kill him?"
     Happousai's eyes went wide in disbelief.
     "Freak?" he croaked. "Freak?"
     "Show your Master some respect, boy!" Genma cried nervously, and 
reached up to pull Ranma to the carpet by his shirt.
     Ranma shrugged him off. "Master? Him?"
     Happousai stumped over to him. He looked him up and down as if were 
planning on buying some livestock.
     "You must be Genma's boy," he observed. "Soun was just telling me all 
about you." He looked him over again. "I must confess that I'm a bit 
disappointed by what I see, but you'll have to do."
     Ranma cracked his knuckles. "What's that supposed to mean, you old 
fart?"
     Happousai nudged the cowering Genma with his foot. "I can see where 
he gets his sense of respect."
     "Don't kill me, Master!"
     "Aw, knock it off already!" Happousai barked. "I said I wasn't here 
for revenge. I hate to say it, but I'm getting on in years. And so I'm here 
to train my Heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts." He looked 
at Ranma a third time, adding a reproachful shake of his head. "I can see 
what you two bozos have left me to work with. He's not much, but we'll 
see if I can still make a silk purse from a sow's ear."
     Ranma grit his teeth. "Just who do you think you are, anyway?"
     Genma succeeded in grabbing his son and pulling him to the carpet. 
"You idiot! That is the Master of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts! 
Don't you listen, boy?!"
     Ranma looked up at the wizened Happousai.
     "*That's* the master of the Anything Goes School? You gotta be kidding 
me. And here I was proud to be part of the school..."
     Happousai began to turn red.
     "He didn't mean it!" Genma pleaded. "He's just a foolish boy! No harm 
done!" He turned angrily to Ranma. "Show some respect, boy! Bow before your 
master!"
     Ranma stood and folded his arms over his chest.
     "I ain't bowing an' scraping for the likes of this old fart."
     "Ranma!" Soun begged. "You know not what you say! The Master--"
     "--Has had enough of your lip," Happousai finished for the Duke. 
"Prepare yourself!"
     Akane and Kasumi walked in, oblivious to what was about to happen.
     "Hi, Dad," Akane called to her father. Then she realized that he was 
prostrate on the ground and looking up in terror at a strange old man. 
"Dad?"
     "Not now, Akane!" Soun protested.
     Happousai was distracted from Ranma, and turned to face the two Tendo 
daughters. His eyes lit up with delight. "Hotcha!" he cried, and leaped 
with a lecher's glee for them.
     He made it about half a meter before being pounded senseless into 
the floor by Ranma's fist.
     "Some master of martial arts," Ranma cracked. "Getting distracted in 
the middle of a fight by a couple of girls." He turned to his father, who 
looked on in mute horror at what his son had done. "You're actually afraid 
of this guy, Pop?"
     "Y-You don't realize w-what you've d-done, b-b-boy," Genma gibbered 
quietly.
     "What's going on here?" Akane demanded of them.
     "That's what I'd like to know," Ranma replied.
     Happousai pulled himself upright from the carpet and turned to Ranma.
"Not bad," he observed. "Perhaps I misjudged you." Then he cracked his 
knuckles with determination, his wispy moustache trembling with loosely 
restrained rage. "Now... DIE!!!"
     A burst of power flooded the room, and Happousai seemed to grow to 
ten times his normal size. Two massive hands loomed over the pig-tailed 
mechwarrior, poised to strike. Ranma stood stunned by Happousai's very 
battle aura. There was an intense flash of light, and then silence. 
     Ranma lay unconscious on the ground, with Happousai, now normal sized, 
standing victorious over him.
     "Ranma!" Akane cried, loudest among the others.
     "Oh dear," Kasumi added. "I hope Ranma is all right."
     Happousai patted his hands as if shaking off the dust of a simple 
chore. "None can stand before the power of my battle aura attack," he 
said calmly. "I'll give him credit for landing the first blow, but it's 
the last blow that counts."
     He reached over and grabbed a convenient pitcher of ice water from a 
tray, and splashed its contents on the fallen mechwarrior.
     "Wakey wakey time, boy! That was your first lesson!"
     Ranma screeched with surprise and sat bolt upright, her breasts 
bouncing in a manner that was immediately noticed by Happousai.
     "What the hell was that for?" she cried angrily.
     Happousai looked at the empty pitcher and then back to Ranma's chest.
     "Are those what I think they are?" he asked himself in disbelief. 
Unlike most people outside of the Joketsuzoku, Happousai had an inkling 
that such things were possible.
     "Oh, how shameful!" Soun wailed from the floor. 
     Ranma brushed away streams of water from her eyes. "Yeah, so what, 
you old freak! Go ahead and stare. Everyone else does!"
     "You've been to the Jusenkyo Labs? SWEET-O!" Happousai cried in 
delight. His eyes went dewy as he glomped onto Ranma's bosom and snuggled 
close. "You're definitely my heir, all right! We'll have to spend extra 
time training together - just the two of us, of course!"
     Ranma crushed Happousai once more into the carpet.
     "Not now, not ever, you lech..."



                           *       *       *



     "We're all here now, correct?" Grand Duke Tendo asked them as they 
assembled near the elevators to the hangars.
     Ranma and Genma were there, both looking uneasily at Happousai, who 
stood next to Doctor Tofu Ono and discussed esoteric martial arts. The 
doctor was accompanying them as their Medical Officer, and one who could 
pilot a battlemech when things got ugly. Kasumi was also with them, 
notepad and stylus in hand to take down comments and suggestions from 
the final tour before departure.
     No one had invited Happousai along, and aside from Ranma, no one had 
the courage to tell him so. Soun and Genma were disgusting in their timid 
fawning over the little bastard. The next thing they knew, Happousai was 
going to invite himself into the expedition!
     Akane arrived even as they looked around to confirm that all were 
present, earning an immediate double take from Ranma, and distracting him 
from his dark thoughts of Happousai.
     "Akane!" Happousai cried. "What happened to your lovely hair?" He 
seemed on the edge of tears.
     "Uh, yeah," Ranma added, dumbfounded. "What happened?"
     Her long blue-black hair was gone. Her new hairstyle fell just above 
her shoulders. She looked almost like a different person, and had at least 
to Ranma.
     "I had a little extra time before we were supposed to meet, so I had 
it cut," she replied, walking past Ranma to stand next to her sister. Ranma 
could smell the lilacs and heather of the stylist's shampoo lingering in 
her hair as she passed. "If I'm supposed to be traveling incognito, I have 
to change my appearance." She cast a wistful glance towards Doctor Tofu 
before turning back to Ranma. "The hair was the easiest way to go. It was 
getting to be kind of a hassle anyway. Kasumi knows what I mean."
     Kasumi nodded quietly. It had been her gentle suggestion to Akane that 
had prompted the haircut.
     Akane twirled for them. "You like it?"
     "It looks very nice," Kasumi commented.
     "Sweet-O!" Happousai cackled.
     "You always look beautiful, Akane," Soun observed proudly.
     "Quite fetching," Genma added with a nudge to Ranma's ribs. "Eh, boy?" 
He refrained from comment.
     "Short hair always did suit you best," Tofu agreed. Ranma caught a 
flash of regret in Akane's eyes as the doctor said this. Was there something 
between these two?
     Akane looked right at Ranma, her eyes demanding from him an opinion.
"Well, Ranma?"
     He looked her over carefully. There was something fascinating about 
her with short hair, something lively, energetic, and sort of cute. Sort 
of. He fought off a blush. "I gotta go with the Doc on this one. Short 
hair looks good on you."
     Akane smiled demurely for his benefit.
     "Great," she said with an exagerated nod. She appeared to be satisfied 
with everyone's opinion. "Can we start the tour now?"
     "Of course," Soun replied. He led the procession down to the castle's 
cavernous hangar, followed by his two daughters. Ranma and Genma followed 
behind them along with Doctor Tofu. Happousai brought up the rear, all eyes 
and ears, but mostly eyes for the ladies.
     Grand Duke Tendo presented them before two ranks of officers and 
enlisted in their dress uniforms. Behind them was the DropShip that was 
to carry them into deep space. It was a Leopard Class, old and rough- 
looking, but reliable, and not likely to draw much attention, just as 
Genma wished. The Tendo livery and the giant white and purple fishcake 
device of the Nerima Confederation had been sandblasted from the hull. 
     The first person Ranma noticed among the crew was a strikingly 
beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a Confederation uniform that could 
only charitably be considered regulation. For one thing, the hemlines he 
saw on the other female members of the crew terminated only just above 
their knees. This lady was pushing the envelope of decency with hers. She 
also seemed like she was about to burst from her tight fitting red wool 
jacket.
     "Hotcha!" Happousai cried at the sight of her. He was about to spring 
when Ranma collared him.
     "Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
     "Where does it look like?" Happousai returned.
     "You're something else," Ranma muttered. "Don't you think about 
anything else besides women?"
     Happousai appeared horrified with the very notion. "Of course not!" 
he nudged Ranma in the ribs. "You should try it some time. You might like 
it."
     "What are you saying?"
     Happousai motioned conspiratorily for Ranma to come closer.
     "Like the lovely Akane, for example," he said to his new student. 
"You're her fiancee. Haven't you thought of... well... you know what I 
mean."
     Ranma looked at Akane.
     "You mean..." he left the idea unspoken between them.
     Happousai nodded.
     "With *her*?"
     Happousai nodded again, a wide grin spreading over his face. "She's 
quite the cutie!"
     Ranma made a disgusted face. "You've got to be kidding me. Do that...
With her? I..."
     Happousai shook his head in disbelief. "You amaze me, Ranma. How 
can you possibly turn down that kind of action?" He recoiled in sudden 
horror. "You aren't gay, are you, boy?"
     Ranma shook his head in the firm negative. "No way!" he protested.
     "Then you're sexually repressed something fierce," Happousai declared. 
"What did Genma do to you, anyway? All those lonely years on the road..."
     "Don't even go there, freako! Nothing like that ever happened!"
     "Then what's the matter with you, Ranma? You're nineteen years old; 
strong and virile. She's nineteen years old; sweet, and beautiful. You're 
both engaged to each other. Why, you two should be banging away like an 
outhouse door in a typhoon every chance you get!"
     "No way!" Ranma protested louder than he should have. "She's some 
kind of psycho chick, and she hates my guts!"
     Akane's ears twitched at the words "psycho chick."
     "...Raaaannnnmaaaa..."
     Ranma froze up for a moment. "See what I mean?" he hissed.
     Happousai shook his head slowly. "You're hopeless..."


     The Grand Duke began the introductions with the voluptuous officer, 
oblivious to what was going on behind him.
     "This is one of my finest ship captains, Hinako Ninomiya. She will 
command your JumpShip." He turned towards the woman. "Captain Ninomiya, 
if you would please."
     Captain Ninomiya snapped to attention with her crew.
     "Captain Hinako Ninomiya and the crew of the Confederation JumpShip 
_Dragonfly_ and the DropShip _Palomino_ are at your disposal." Her voice 
was low and sultry, and Ranma could almost see his father drooling out 
of the corner of his eye, to say nothing of Happousai. What a couple of 
assholes! he thought angrily.
     Hinako introduced the crews of the DropShip and those of the JumpShip 
that were not on duty at the distant jump point. Each seemed competent and 
full of self-confidence, which made Ranma feel a little more at ease.
     Next came the Air Lance pilots, two girls named Yuka and Sayuri. Ranma 
couldn't speak for their skill based on appearance alone, though it helped 
that they had been part of the 1st Nerima Guards before their reassignment. 
Akane seemed to know them, judging by the friendly looks that passed between 
them. Happousai made cooing noises.
     The techs came last, though they would be vital for any extended 
period of time away from Confederation resources. Captain Ninomiya started 
with a girl about Ranma and Akane's age. Her hair was a dark walnut, with 
long streaks of pink that fell from her temples. Even standing at attention, 
she seemed shy and demure, almost meek.
     "Allow me to introduce our Chief of Technical Operations, Senior 
Technician Akari Unryuu."
     Akari saluted smartly and dropped back to attention.
     Ranma was impressed. Anyone who made Senior Tech at such a young age 
had to know her stuff. He was feeling better and better about the crew. 
     "Well I've seen more than enough," Happousai declared out of the 
blue. Ranma's unease became palpable.
     "W-What do you mean?" Soun asked fearfully of his master.
     "I've decided to join your little expedition," he declared. "I can 
see that you're going to need all the help you can get, and besides, look 
at all these lovely young maidens who need protecting!"
     Several of the crew muttered protests at Happousai's remarks, Hinako 
chief among them. Soun, however, was loathe to provoke his master.
     "Really, Master," he began tactfully. "There's no need to put yourself 
out on our account..."
     "Nonsense, Soun, old boy. I insist."
     "Daaaad..." Akane groaned in protest.
     Grand Duke Tendo caved. It was clear that he was more than willing to 
make Happousai someone else's problem, even it was his personal savior, 
Genma Saotome. 
     "Of course, Master. After all, you have a commitment to train the 
boy, right?"
     Happousai looked at Ranma. "Indeed I do."
     Both Saotomes cringed; one out of fear, the other disgust.



                           *       *       *



     Ranma found an excuse to separate from the party as soon as practical. 
He wanted to avoid the blow-up between his father and the Duke over letting 
the old bastard Happousai join the expedition, and he himself wanted to get 
away from the old freak. The guy was some kind of turbo-charged satyr, and 
he was going to cause all kinds of problems with his overactive libido 
among the expedition. Any idiot could see that, right?
     He didn't dwell any further on it. There was one last matter to 
take care of, and it was one he needed to resolve quickly, and above all, 
anonymously.
     Akane's bright red Warhammer stood silently in its bay, awaiting its 
mistress to take it into battle. The technicians had rebuilt the shattered 
torso and replaced the damaged components in the leg, and now it looked 
fresh off the assembly line. The war machine was scheduled to be loaded 
into the DropShip in sixteen hours, which was just enough time to repaint 
it.
     When the subject of painting it had been broached by him during one 
of the planning sessions for the expedition, she had adamantly refused. 
She was willing to cut her hair short in the name of secrecy, but she 
wouldn't repaint her battlemech? In its bright red livery the thing was 
a twelve-meter-tall walking billboard proclaiming "Here Stands the Heir 
to the Nerima Confederation: Akane Tendo! Please attack me to the exclusion 
of all else!"
     Which was great if you were the type who liked getting attention. 
It wasn't so hot if you had to travel to places outside the Confederation, 
like the League, or even the Furinkan Combine, where you were public enemy 
number one! Who knew where the hunt was going to take them? 
     There would be just enough time to crane the battlemech into the 
massive automated sprayer booth, mask all of the sensitive components like 
sensors and weapon ports, paint over the existing color scheme, and bake it 
on long enough to keep the paint from rubbing off during the loading 
procedure. It could cure the rest of the way on the trip to and from the 
Jump Points. The Duke had given his tacit approval for this aggressively 
underhanded mission when Ranma suggested it, and so he would have the help 
of the tech staff. The Duke had not been as forthcoming about shielding him 
from his daughter's wrath...
     Ranma motioned for the rigging crew to commence. If Akane was going 
to be coming along with them, she had to learn that the game was played 
differently from the way she was used to. This was not some big invasion 
force or an army resisting a siege. This was a scouting mission and a 
treasure hunt all rolled into one, and discretion was the only thing that 
was going to see them home alive.
     As the Warhammer was picked up by the gantry crane, Ranma hoped like 
hell she'd figure that out, and, most importantly, not take it personally. 
Otherwise it was going to be a very long trip.



                             Chapter Three

                 Nerima Confederation DropShip _Palomino_
                    Landing Pad #1, Azure Cloud Castle
                       Planet Nerima, Capella System
                          Nerima Confederation
                             4 March 3025



     Ranma Saotome lay strapped into his acceleration couch on the 
_Palomino's_ Middle Deck. The other mechwarriors and aerospace pilots, as 
well as the Technical Section and Doctor Tofu, were similarly restrained. 
It was another formality he wished the Confederation crew would dispense 
with. Captain Hinako was not the DropShip pilot, but as ranking naval 
officer she called the shots aboard ship, and was one of those martinets 
Ranma dreaded. Fortunately his father, who was named Commander of the 
Expedition by Duke Tendo, outranked her.
     They had said their goodbyes at breakfast and finished the last 
minute loading of their remaining supplies and materiel. Happousai's 
Locust had taken up the fourth and last 'Mech Bay, the one they had 
originally planned to keep empty and use as a repair center. It was going 
to make Akari and her Technical Section's job much more difficult, but 
she took it in stride, and did not complain in the slightest. Ranma got 
the feeling that she was very difficult to upset.
     As for hardware, they had Pop's Griffin in Bay #1, his Phoenix Hawk 
LAM in Bay #2, Akane's Warhammer was stowed in Bay #3, and Happousai's 
Locust in Bay #4. Yuka and Sayuri both flew CSR-V8 Corsairs, a fighter 
common in the Federated Shiratori, but available in sufficient numbers 
throughout the Inner Sphere to draw no undue attention. They were kept in 
the two fighter bays forward of the 'mech bays and below the forward crew 
compartment. Every additional cubic meter of available space was taken up 
with supplies, including the two berthing areas, which had a layer of steel 
food cans plus sheets of cardboard on top to serve as the deck. They would 
eat their way to the real floor.
     "Two minutes to liftoff," the voice of the DropShip pilot said over 
the intercom circuit.
     Ranma looked over his shoulder at Akane. She looked very different 
without long hair. So different, in fact, that he was having trouble 
recognizing her. 
     She had not been pleased to discover his handiwork with her Warhammer, 
and was currently not speaking to him. At least she hadn't hit him. A man 
could only take so much abuse before he forgot himself and... Well, who was 
he kidding - he wasn't real big on hitting girls, even if they deserved it.
     Akane's silent treatment wasn't such a bad thing in and of itself. If 
she didn't speak to him, then he had no reason to speak to her, and thus he 
kept himself from putting his foot in his mouth. There was no limit to the 
things that set her off sometimes.
     She stuck her tongue out at him, and he turned away.
     "Well, boy," Genma said to him then. "This is it. We're finally back 
on the trail of Ryuugenzawa. It's good to be on the move again."
     Ranma wasn't so sure of that. He for one was tired of wandering. 
     "Whatever, Pop. The sooner we get this over with, the better."
     "I understand, Ranma. If I were your age and still single, and had 
Akane waiting to marry me at the end of the expedition, I might wish that 
too."
     "That ain't what I meant."
     The roar of the DropShip's engines sounded all around them, and the 
force of acceleration had them in its grip. The _Palomino_ began to rise 
off the landing pad and into the sky. Ranma almost smiled in spite of the 
three gee force that crushed him into his chair.
     For the first time in years he was riding a DropShip as a passenger, 
not as a stowaway.



                           *       *       *



     From her penthouse suite at the Hyatt Towers of Gondolin, in the heart 
of the city at the foot of the mountain, Nabiki Tendo watched the Leopard 
Class DropShip lift from the castle on columns of blue-white flame and 
climb for the heavens. Her sister Akane was aboard the ship, as were the 
two meddling Saotomes. They were off to find the land of Oz, or Ryuugenzawa, 
depending on what you believed.
     She took a stiff drink of her Chivas and Coke, not caring that she 
had only brought back a single bottle of the rare and expensive whiskey 
from her trip to Earth, nor that some might consider it sacrilegious to 
cut it with something like Coca Cola. Under other circumstances she would 
have toasted them to their success, but now they represented an open wound 
in her pride. 
     Tatewaki Kuno had launched a major attack against the Confederation, 
and that worried her. Was it merely to keep up the pressure, or had he 
changed his mind about their agreement? It was tough to say at the moment, 
and that uncertainty was what plagued her the most.
     She took another belt, letting the whiskey linger in her mouth for a 
few moments, warming her considerably. She was already a little high, 
and ideas flowed through her loosened mind.
     Perhaps a sign of good faith was in order. The question was how much 
to give Kuno. If she could only hand over the Saotomes without giving up 
Akane, she would. She was unsure of Kuno-chan's willingness to come to the 
bargaining table if her sister was already in his clutches. That might 
depend on the opposition he faced in battle. So far he was getting a 
stiff fight.
     She took another drink. What to do about Akane? Those two Saotomes 
wouldn't dream of actually taking her with them everywhere they went, 
right? The smart thing to do would be to keep Akane on the JumpShip the 
whole time. She might not like it, but hey, it was better than getting 
killed on some wild goose chase. 
     She laughed to herself. That would be accusing Akane of far too much 
common sense. Of course she would come with them wherever they went. 
Anything not to be left behind on the JumpShip.
     It would serve her right to get captured by Tatewaki Kuno.
     She finished her glass and set it down on the table by her chair. 
The ice clinked hollowly in the glass, empty and cold like Nabiki's broken 
heart. Damn them all for interfering with her dreams. 
     She picked up the telephone and dialed an unlisted number.
     Merry Christmas, Kuno-chan...



                              Chapter Four

                            Fort Dettmering
                       Planet Capra, Capra System
                        The League of Five Nails
                              8 March 3025
 


     Ryouga Hibiki wanted the hell off of Capra.
     It was bad enough that he and Tarou had been held responsible for 
the damage done to their barracks by Happousai, but then after the Combine 
raid was crushed the next morning, their employers garnisheed most of their 
share of the salvage to pay for it. The pittance that remained was not 
enough to pay for passage into low orbit, much less get them to the next 
star system. Tarou, of course, blamed him for both Happousai's escape and 
for their continuing fate as virtual castaways on a desert rock in the 
depths of space - the Armpit of the Universe, as some on Capra called the 
planet. That attitude had not done wonders for their less-than-cordial 
relationship.
     Like it was his fault that Happousai got away. If Tarou hadn't been 
so clumsy with his kicks, the sink wouldn't have broken and Ryouga wouldn't 
have gotten wet, nor would there have been any damage to the barracks to 
pay for. Monster-boy conveniently side-stepped that issue whenever Ryouga 
brought it up.
     He had started calling Tarou 'Monster-boy' in retaliation for his 
Blame Game tactics, and also because his mechwarrior comrade had taken a 
sudden and decidedly unhealthy liking to his Jusenkyo body. He wasn't 
running around in public in his monster form - yet - but he was seeking 
any opportunities he could get to slip away from the city so he could 
transform himself. Ryouga had stopped accompanying him on these sojourns 
as soon as it became clear what Tarou was doing.
     Why he was doing it was anyone's guess, but Ryouga was of the growing 
opinion that Tarou could now be officially certified as Damaged Goods in 
the psyche department. His obsession with Happousai and with the Jusenkyo 
Commonwealth was understandable before, but now it was getting worrisome. 
He would talk to himself about his revenge in the small hours of the morning 
when Ryouga was trying to sleep. He would talk to himself in the chow line, 
his lips moving faintly in some silent conversation that only he was privy 
to. Ryouga had even overheard snippets of the same hateful mantras over 
the tac-net when Tarou's finger's slipped on the 'talk' button of his 
Hunchback's radio controls.
     Unfortunately, there was no form of psychiatric medicine available on 
Capra. The mercenary unit they worked for was too small to have that kind 
of medical help on tap, and the League was too cheap to provide service to 
a world they hadn't even bothered to garrison with their own regular troops. 
The only form of counseling to be had was a lady with a struggling private 
practice in town, but she was old and rumored to have a bad heart. The last 
thing they needed was for Tarou to monster-out and kill her from fright.
That was assuming, of course, that Ryouga could get his roommate and comrade- 
in-arms to admit that he had a problem. Not bloody likely.
     He looked skyward, wondering when, if ever, he could escape from this 
rathole planet.



                             Chapter Five
                       Jusenkyo Laboratory Complex
                  Planet Lightoller, Epsilon Indi System
                         Jusenkyo Commonwealth
                             7 March 3025



     Mousse did not question the orders from the capitol which freed him 
from the clutches of General Herb. Nor did he question the fact that his 
status as a Mechwarrior of the Commonwealth had been restored. It was the 
circumstances of those orders, namely that he had been selected for the 
Breeding Program, that he could not fathom.
     Doctor Gaido didn't appear to be forthcoming with answers to the 
mystery. The portly Chief Scientist had evaded his questions, saying only 
that the computers had selected him, and that he was to report to the 
capitol. His reluctance to provide details seemed to stem from a distrust 
of General Herb; something Mousse could now fully appreciate, having felt 
the hybrid general's wrath firsthand.
     There was one other aspect of his new-found fortune that Mousse did 
not question. As he was now qualified for the Breeding Program, he was 
also eligible to become Shampoo's husband. It was a dream that he had 
applied himself towards since he was a child; that somehow in spite of 
his atrocious vision, he could distinguish himself as a mechwarrior in 
the eyes of the Elders well enough that they would allow Shampoo to be 
his.
     "<Hey, boy,>" Gaido said to him. "<Are you listening to a word I'm 
saying?>"
     Mousse didn't realize that he had spaced out on the good doctor.
     "<Uh, of course,>" he said quickly.
     Gaido gave him a dubious look.
     "<Good, because I'm not going to repeat it.>"
     Mousse nodded. Whatever it was, he had missed it. Oh well, no sense 
crying over it.
     Gaido continued.
     "<As I was saying, you have been chosen for a very special assignment. 
The fate of the Commonwealth rests upon a successful conclusion. Now get 
back to your quarters and prepare yourself!>"
     Mousse saluted and turned smartly on his heels for the catwalk that 
would lead him away from Gaido's office and to the security checkpoint. He 
got about two steps before he heard the panicked voice of the doctor cry out 
for him to stop, but it was too late.
     He was soaking wet just a moment later, nearly choking on the water 
that flooded into his mouth. When he at last scrambled for the surface 
and broke clear, the first thing he heard for some strange reason was the 
frantic quacking of a duck.
     A duck?
     Come to think of it, where were all those choice curses he was in the 
process of shouting at the top of his lungs?
     He looked around to catch his bearings, and spied the copious red and 
white danger striping of a Jusenkyo Pit surrounding him. As were his robes, 
floating in the water with him. Even better, where his thrashing arms used 
to be were a pair of snowy white wings.
     The wings of a duck.
     Doctor Gaido looked down at him in utter disbelief.  
     "<T-That is the first time I have ever seen someone walk straight into 
a pool,>" he said in a shaky voice. "<Are you sure that was an accident?>"
     He quacked a mournful reply. His life had just been turned upside 
down - again.
     Gaido shook his head slowly and stepped aside as a lab assistant with 
a pool-cleaning net fished him out. The scientist walked back into his 
office and produced a pot of hot water that he kept handy for just such an 
emergency, and poured it over him.
     The water was very hot, and he cried out in pain, surprised and 
relieved to hear his own voice again. He now sat naked on the steel non-
skid diamond deck while the assistant fished out his robes with the net. 
These were carefully double-bagged by another assistant wearing a 
waterproof overall and set aside for recovery of the water. He was 
given a cheap paper pullover jumpsuit for modesty's sake.
     Gaido shook his head again.
     "<This is turning out to be an embarrassing first quarter for the 
Labs,>" he said mostly to himself. "<Don't worry about the report. I'll 
fill it out without you. You can sign it later. Just go, and good luck 
with your new body. Remember: hot water changes you back to normal. Stay 
away from cold water.>"
     Mousse could not believe this. This was it? Good luck? Stay away from 
cold water? He knew there was no cure for what had happened to him, but 
there had to be something the scientist could do for him. He cursed his 
fate at having such a stupid accident. Why did everything bad happen to 
him?
     Gaido motioned for one of the assistants to escort him out. The guy 
was clearly taking no chances on him falling in another pool. He let 
himself be led out of the Labs, still shaking with horror at what he had 
experienced. 
     There was supposed to be a counseling program for victims of the pools 
to help them adjust to their new lives, but with him due to ship back to 
the capitol, and Gaido less than sympathetic, there would be no help. He 
was on his own.
     Just like Shampoo.
     He found that thought comforting for some odd reason.


     Doctor Gaido returned to his office and pulled out the file folder 
containing blank Incident Reports. He began to work on the form while the 
memories of the event were still fresh in his mind. Had the boy been paying 
attention to where he was going, or was he simply the victim of his bad 
eyesight? He noted that Mousse was not wearing his glasses properly at the 
time. Mousse rarely wore his glasses properly when he wasn't operating a 
battlemech.
     In any case, this little disaster was not going to make him look good 
coming so soon on the last outbreak of exposures. It would be a wonder if 
he kept his job for much longer. Even what little value he possessed as 
Cologne's spy against Herb wouldn't be enough to help.
     "<The General won't be pleased about this,>" he muttered.
     "<I'm certain of that,>" Herb said from the open doorway, startling 
the doctor.
     Gaido looked up from his report.
     "<General Herb?>"
     Herb's crimson eyes flashed in the light. "<I was already in the 
neighborhood,>" he began coolly. "<So when I was given an urgent message 
from the capitol concerning Mechwarrior Mousse (he seemed to almost choke 
on the word 'mechwarrior'), I rushed over to see that everything was in 
order.>"
     He looked at the form that Gaido had reluctantly set aside.
     "<I can see that everything is NOT in order.>" he concluded coldly. 
"<In fact, you can imagine my, shall we say, *dismay,* when I learned of 
Mousse's little spill...>"
     Gaido nodded slowly.
     "<Accidents happen, sir.>"
     Herb snorted derisively. "<You're getting senile, Gaido. The Lab is 
obviously too much responsibility for you in your advanced years. I 
strongly urge you to begin training your replacement. One can never tell 
what might happen these days.>"
     Gaido's spine stiffened. If anyone cashiered him for this, it would 
not be a seditious archfiend like Herb.
     "<I suppose you already have one picked out,>" he observed.
     Herb nodded indulgently, seeing exactly where Gaido stood on the 
matter and not minding a little insolence when the final dig would be his.
"<As a matter of fact I do...>" he replied. He then changed the subject. 
"<That is a discussion for another time. Soon, to be sure, but not now. 
In the meantime, I want to discuss Mousse's ability to perform in combat.>"
     "<I don't understand what I have to do with this,>" Gaido replied. 
"<That would be a matter for the Chief Medical Officer, not the Chief 
Scientist.>"
     Herb arched an eyebrow. 
     "<Really, Doctor? I presume then that you had another reason for 
needing to see Mousse before he was shipped to the capitol?>"
     Gaido began to sweat.
     "<Just a matter of a questionnaire and some additional tissue samples 
for the record. Since he is part of the Breeding Program now.>"
     Herb nodded slowly. Gaido wondered if the demonic hybrid could see 
right through him.
     "<I see,>" the general replied. "<In any case, it's a moot point. 
Mousse will not be going directly to the capitol.>" Gaido gave him a 
questioning look, and he continued. "<It seems he's been assigned to a 
Special Mission Team that is currently en route to Lightoller. They will 
arrive in a little over two days to collect him and his battlemech. Now 
that Mousse has had his little, *accident,* I want you to certify that he 
will still be capable of performing his duties.>"
     Gaido smelled a trap. Was Herb giving him rope to hang by?
     "<That's a difficult question,>" he hedged.
     Herb smiled thinly. "<Indulge me.>"
     The doctor cleared his throat thoughtfully before speaking.
     "<Well, physiologically there shouldn't be anything wrong with him. 
There haven't been any long term side-effects observed with exposure, other 
than the subject remaining vulnerable to the Jusenkyou Effect for the rest 
of his life.  As for psychological, well, every subject is different. Most 
learn to live with it and adapt. A few become mentally unstable, an even 
smaller number of these commit suicide.>"
     Herb knew the song and dance. "<But what of Mousse, Doctor?>"
     "<I can't say. Even the figures I could give you on known cases are 
not necessarily reliable indicators, as there have been too few overall 
exposures upon which to build a decent statistical analysis.>"
     Gaido's evasion was becoming visibly irritating to Herb. Lime and 
Mint poked their heads in to see what had caused their master such distress. 
Both hybrids gave scathing looks to Gaido.
     "<Best guess then, Doctor,>" Herb managed.
     Gaido at last understood what the general was pushing for. He was 
looking for an ironclad excuse to keep Mousse on Lightoller, and under his 
thumb. If the renowned Doctor Gaido was to assert that there might be 
something wrong with Mousse following his exposure, something that might 
disqualify him from the mission, and better still, from the Breeding 
Program, then Cologne and her cronies on the Council could do nothing but 
accept it. Herb would win.
     He wasn't going to let Herb win. Not like that.
     "<My best guess is that there will be no harm in sending Mechwarrior 
Mousse on this assignment,>" he declared.
     Herb took the response in silence. It was clearly not what he had 
hoped for. His red eyes burned for a moment, then buried their scorn deep. 
Like banked coals, they would one day be reignited when they were needed.
     "<I see,>" he said at length. "<I shall duly note your input in the 
Garrison Command Diary and in Mousse's transfer papers.>"
     Gaido bowed deeply, expecting nothing less from him and accepting it 
as it came.
     Herb turned angrily to go, blundering into the lurking Lime, tripping 
himself, and stumbling forward out of control. Mint rushed to catch hold of 
his general, but at the same time Lime also leaped to the rescue. It sounded 
like a wrecking ball striking a solid masonry wall, the net effect of which 
was Herb being pushed headlong into a nearby Jusenkyo Pool.
     Gaido heard the splash and started out of his office in a panic. Not 
again. Not so soon after Mousse. Not with Herb watching!
     He was relieved to hear a high pitched human voice screeching with 
rage and uttering black oaths too foul to find print in this narrative. 
Anything other than the alien bleats of some animal in distress. His relief 
quickly turned to dismay when he realized that General Herb was not among 
the throng of people looking down into the fateful pool at the latest 
victim of the Star League's ancient madness.
     Gaido knew the pool well, for it was one of the unusual ones. That 
pool turned its victims not into animals but into human females. It was 
one of the more commonly occuring accident sites in the Labs. 
     General Herb was treading water in it, and he was Not Amused.
     "<Look, Lime,>" Mint gushed in wonder. "<...Boobs...>"
     Lime cooed in awe at his general's outstanding rack.


     Doctor Gaido turned slowly back to his office and locked the door 
behind him. If Herb wanted a reckoning with him, it would have to be 
over the barrel of a cone rifle. At least anyway until he was good and 
drunk on the five liter jug of plum wine he kept handy in the bottom 
drawer of his filing cabinet, and then he wouldn't care what Herb said 
or did.



                           *       *       *



     Shampoo floated through the airtight door to the flight deck of the 
Union Class DropShip _Jade Lotus,_ with her luxuriant mane of hair spilling 
behind her in long filaments of glossy purple silk. Unlike most people who 
had the opportunity to travel in space, she enjoyed zero gravity. It was 
a thrilling sensation, making each conscious moment an adventure for her. 
     They were in the middle of a short period of free fall prior to their 
two-day deceleration burn that would leave them in a stable parking orbit 
around the planet Lightoller. She could see it as nothing more than a fuzzy 
blue dot in the 50cm telescope monitor. Soon she would be far closer to it, 
the Jusenkyo Labs, Mousse, and especially General Herb, than she ever 
wished to be. The Elders had decided rather abruptly that it would be more 
efficient to collect Mousse on Lightoller and then proceed with the mission 
than to ship him back to Jusenkyo first.
     She had not taken the news that Mousse would be joining the Mission 
Team very well at all. Kima was to handle the espionage and intelligence 
aspects of the assignment, leaving Shampoo free to kill the damnable Ranma 
Saotome and his father when the time finally came. Mousse was at best 
extraneous to the mission, and at worst he could be a dangerous hindrance. 
Why he had been selected by Cologne, Shampoo did not know. Her great-
grandmother had never been warm to the idea of a union between them, so 
what could it be? Perhaps it was a reward for his service to her against 
Herb's machinations, but there were surely other ways to repay him! 
     "<How long until we arrive?>" she asked the Deck Officer.
     Senior Lieutenant Li Chang consulted the astrogation boards before 
him.
     "<Fifty-one hours, nineteen minutes; plus or minus 10 minutes to 
our parking orbit,>" he replied. "<Depending on local weather conditions, 
we could complete our de-orbit burn and atmospheric entry maneuvers and 
have touchdown about thirty-five minutes from the moment we get our landing 
window.>"
     Shampoo thanked the officer and withdrew to the far corner of the 
cramped flight deck. She had that long at least without Mousse. Or Herb. 
She wondered whether he would risk losing face by putting in an appearance, 
or simply ignore her and pretend she didn't exist. She hoped it would be 
the latter.
     The _Jade Lotus_ wouldn't spend more than a few hours on Lightoller 
in any event; just long enough to gather up Mousse and his battlemech, 
take on reaction mass for the trip back to the jump point, and exchange 
mail and other light cargo. After that it was another four days in space 
before they reached their JumpShip, and then they'd jump for the contested 
border between the Combine and the Confederation. Only Kima knew what their 
next step would be, but in order to maintain the most up-to-date information 
on their quarry, their JumpShip was one of the precious handful in the 
Commonwealth fleet that carried a functional HPG array.
     Their infiltration of Comstar over the last few decades was about to 
pay huge dividends for the Commonwealth. Information bound for Cologne and 
the Elders was compressed and secretly bundled within Comstar's core HPG 
network streams, where it could easily be routed from one compromised 
station to another. While the data streams instantly breached the gulf of 
up to fifteen parsecs of space-time (almost twice what a JumpShip could do 
in one hop), and converged like a Niagara of information upon Comstar 
headquarters on Earth, a tiny trickle would flow away undetected from the 
Sol system to arrive on Jusenkyo.
     Any vital updates on their assignment could be sent along the 
Commonwealth's network of ship-mounted HPG sets. They might have been 
maintained by the tech priests of Comstar, but the knowledge of how to 
operate them was not yet lost to the technical caste of the Commonwealth.
They would have access to information that was at worst two days old, and 
possibly less than twenty-four hours old - depending on the length of the 
relay chain from source to destination. It was a powerful advantage that 
the other Successor States did not enjoy. 
     The Furinkan Combine was especially vulnerable in this regard. Between 
Commonwealth infiltration of Comstar sowing the seeds of discontent, and the 
technocracy's own dim view of both Princess Kodachi's atrocities and the 
seizure of the once-neutral Alpha Centauri system by the Kuno Shogun for 
his personal pleasure as a surfing paradise, the Furinkan Combine was 
extremely close to a service lockout of its HPG network. That would force 
them to use what was called the 'XBoat Method,' which came from a term used 
in an ancient science fiction role-playing game from a time when fast 
interstellar travel was only a fantasy.
     The 'XBoat Method' was essentially a network of JumpShips that 
travelled a prearranged route through the Combine's territory. They carried 
as cargo the message traffic of the Combine, both personal and governmental, 
and upon arrival in a system they would relay it by radio to a waiting 
JumpShip whose power banks were charged for a Jump. The ready JumpShip 
would then depart for the next system in the relay chain while the first 
ship recharged and awaited another set of messages. Shampoo likened it 
to a system of runners on the battlefield, although the usual explanation 
mentioned something called a 'Pony Express.'
     In theory, the 'XBoat Method' could relay messages almost as fast as 
an HPG network, since a JumpShip's transit of hyperspace from Point-A to 
Point-B was instantaneous, and its ability to travel great distances was 
limited only by the time it took to recharge the huge amounts of energy 
required to fire the jumpcore for its next trip. In practice, the method 
was limited by the number of JumpShips available for XBoat duty. For the 
Combine to maintain adequate communications for its vast territory, it 
would have to sacrifice most of its remaining military transport fleet. 
The renewed offensive against the Nerima Confederation would be snuffed 
out in a flash from a lack of ships to support it.
     She wondered if this fact was being held in reserve by the Elders as 
an ace-in-the-hole in order to maintain the status quo of the Inner Sphere. 
If she could figure out the Combine's Achilles' Heel with just a few 
moments of contemplation in a dark corner of a DropShip flight deck, then 
they certainly had after years of study and reflection on Jusenkyo.



                           *       *       *



     Two days later and on schedule, the DropShip _Jade Lotus_ settled in 
on its hydraulics atop the reinforced concrete landing pad. Shampoo and the 
others unhooked their restraints and stood up in the small compartment, 
eager for a breath of fresh air. It would be anywhere from ten to fifteen 
minutes before the ship's crew would be ready to let them out.
     Shampoo was the first to reach the airlock when the word was passed 
allowing passengers and crew not-on-duty a brief amount of liberty, but 
due to their press for time, they would not be allowed beyond the landing 
pad. That was fine by Shampoo. She had no intentions of getting any farther 
than the gantry.
     The air was sweet and cold as she stepped through the open airlock 
doors and onto the boarding gantry. Rain had fallen earlier, before their 
arrival, and pools of it shimmered in the hazy afternoon sunlight. It 
would probably rain again sometime before they lifted for the jump point, 
which was a good reason to stay close to the ship.
     From her high vantage she could see Mousse's battlemech being carried 
on a flatbed HET, or Heavy Equipment Transport, towards one of the _Jade 
Lotus'_ open 'Mech Bay Doors. The steel cables that supported the white 
and grey Crusader in a standing position on the flatbed were stretched 
taut and glinted in the light. She looked, but could see no sign of Mousse 
himself anywhere below. 
     There was also no sight of General Herb's staff car, which was a 
welcome relief. Apparently no one from the Complex had bothered to come 
in any official capacity other than Mousse. 
     She felt a presense close by, and turned to find Kima standing there, 
her wings folded behind her.
     "<What is it?>" she asked the hybrid.
     "<I've just received word from the capitol via our JumpShip. Our 
destination has changed, and we must leave Lightoller at once for the 
Capra System.>"
     Shampoo blinked. "<Capra?>"
     "<Yes. Genma Saotome and his son are en route to that world. We are 
to locate them and seize any materials pertinent to their search for 
Ryuugenzawa. Once we have them, you are to eliminate the two as per your 
previous orders.>"
     "<Why the change in plans?>"
     Kima shrugged. "<I'm not certain. I've been told of an agent within 
their expedition, and it seems the most likely thing that has happened is 
that this agent has passed the Elders important information since we left 
Jusenkyo.>"
     Kima looked out upon the world of Lightoller and shuddered. Shampoo 
did not know that it was here that the hybrid had been reborn as Akane 
Tendo's doppleganger. Nor did she hear Kima's silent prayer to the gods 
that she never return again.
     "<I shall be on the Flight Deck,>" she said to Shampoo, and left her 
as silently as she had approached.
     Shampoo watched her step back through the airlock and into the ship. 
When she returned her attention to the gantry, she could see Mousse 
stepping out of one of the Lab cars and heading for the gantry elevator. 
She did not want to be there when he came on board.
     She followed her commander through the airlock and proceeded directly 
for the small mechwarrior's lounge off the main passageway from the ship's 
core. It would take Mousse awhile for him to check in with Kima and stow 
his small kit for the trip. With any luck it would be time to strap in for 
lift-off before he could get a free moment to look for her. She couldn't 
avoid him forever, not on a DropShip, but she could delay for as long as 
possible their reunion.



                              Chapter Six

                    FCJS _Imperator,_ in orbit at the 
                    Proteus System Zenith Jump Point,
                  Proteus System, Nerima Confederation
                             11 March 3025



     General Prince Tatewaki Kuno of the Furinkan Combine was not a happy 
man. His plans were slipping far behind schedule, no thanks to the dogged 
resistance of the Confederation. What insolence! Didn't they know when 
they were beaten?
     His beachhead had nearly collapsed even as he was about to lift from 
the planet, and he was forced to disembark his famed Blue Thunder Regiment 
from their ships to quash the counterattack. The Confederation dogs had 
scattered by the time his troops were organized, though their persistant 
raids had left him unable to secure the starport sufficiently enough to 
leave. Hunting them down had taken four precious days, and even then he 
was not certain that he had found all of them.
     His troops had obviously missed some of the Confederation fighters as 
well, as his formations of departing DropShips had been ambushed leaving 
orbit. They had fought them off, but had lost several of their own ships 
in the process. How was it possible that these curs could maintain fighters 
when he had gone to so much trouble bombing the airfields prior to the 
invasion?
     His staff were of no help, standing mutely by their reconnaisance  
photographs and their troop reports. The best answer they could come up 
with was that the Confederation was planning on hitting back in this 
system, and that the defenders were engaged in a suicidal attempt to buy 
time for the attack to assemble. That at least was good news. It meant 
that they had fallen for his ruse, and his way to Capella would be clear!
     The Confederation's defiance still bothered him, though. If they 
fought like demons on a world like Calypso, what would they be like when 
he stood at the gates of their capitol? He would crush them of course. 
There was no doubt of that, for he was Tatewaki Kuno, the Conquerer, and 
the future First Lord of the Star League. What concerned him was that it 
would take longer to rule the Inner Sphere than he had planned.
     His Operations Officer approached him as he pondered these matters, 
sensing that his lord was occupied, and waiting patiently for leave to 
speak.
     Tatewaki gave it. "Speak, man."
     "Your Highness, we have received another communique from Nerima."
     Tatewaki frowned. "Another plea for a cease-fire? I think not."
     The officer presented a decrypted communication print-out.
     "No, your Highness. It is from the *other* source on Nerima."
     Tatewaki snatched it up into his hand and began to read. What was the 
treacherous Nabiki up to now? As he read, his heart began to beat faster, 
and his palms began to sweat. The gods smiled upon him!
     "When shall our fleet be assembled for Jump?" he demanded.
     "Another four hours to dock the last DropShips and recall the fighters 
from patrol, Highness."
     "Two hours!" Tatewaki shouted. "You have two hours to make ready. I 
shall not wait a minute longer. Make it so!"


     The Operations Officer saluted hastily and begged leave to carry out 
his orders. Fortunately, he had taken the liberty of reading the communique 
beforehand, and correctly determined his lord's response to it. The fighters 
were already returning. They would be ready to jump in an hour if everything 
went well, and certainly within two.
     He was so pleased with himself that did not notice the hazy shadow that 
tailed him back to the Executive Bridge.



                           *       *       *



     Tatewaki Kuno took his place on the Bridge for the Jump to Capra. 
The fleet was assembled and ready to depart the Proteus System for the 
next stage of his plan. They would sieze the System's jump points, set 
up a network of DropShips modified into mobile charging stations to 
swiftly maintain his supply lines, and when the system was secure, the 
armada would Jump for the Capella System and the domination of the Nerima 
Confederation.
     While he was at it, he would investigate the information Nabiki had 
given him. If the Saotomes were to be found on Capra, he would have no 
choice but to slay them and end this farcical engagement to his true love. 
He relished the task so much that he would see to the planet's conquest 
personally, just so he could be at hand when they were located. 
     As far as Nabiki's assertion that sweet Akane accompanied them, he 
was unsure. It defied reason that she would wish to travel with the curs. 
Perhaps it was a misguided attempt to keep her from the great Tatewaki 
Kuno that the foolish Duke had sent her away.
     The middle Tendo daughter obviously had some motivation for this 
betrayal. Was this part of her promise to deliver Akane unto him? He had 
expected a harder bargain from the steely and shrewd Nabiki Tendo. It 
would be prudent to remain wary of her, and above all to eliminate her 
as soon as practical.
     He turned to brighter thoughts, despising Nabiki for the black pits 
of treachery she had opened for him. If Akane were truly with the Saotomes, 
then she would be rescued from them. He would bring her with him to Capella, 
and when he had conquered the Confederation, he would marry her within the 
Duke's very castle!
     "Countdown Commencing," the Operations Officer announced over the 
fleet-wide radio channel. "T-Minus twenty minutes to Jump."
     Tatewaki smiled. Within minutes they would be in Capra space, and 
within days the Saotomes would be dead. He could almost feel the cretinous 
Ranma Saotome's throat in his gloved hand. If he had despoiled the fair 
Akane, then the tale of his torture and slow death would become legendary.
     His reverie was interrupted by the sudden and furious activity that 
seized his Bridge crew. Were the cursed Confederation fighters attacking 
yet again?


     "Conn, Sensory;" the intercom crackled. "Be advised of fleet ships 
Bravo One and Two breaking formation and closing on plasma drive."
     The Officer of the Deck conferred with the Operations Officer before 
responding. "Sensory, Conn; confirm CPA at once. Communications, Conn; 
raise Princess Kodachi's starship immediately, and establish intentions!"
     "Communications; aye..."
     "Conn, Sensory; aye... Closest Point of Approach bearing two-four-zero 
plus one; range five point one kilometers. That's within the optimum Jump 
Point radius."
     The Communications Officer looked to his people, who shook their 
heads. He then turned to the Deck Officer.
     "Officer of the Deck, Princess Kodachi's ships do not answer hails."


     Tatewaki Kuno sprang from his chair in a rage. His damnable sister 
was supposed to be taking over the conquest of Calypso!
     "What is thy game, sister?" he said angrily to himself as he watched 
the two Invader Class JumpShips close with his armada. The minutes passed 
slowly as the two vessels reached their intended destinations and came to 
a halt relative to the other ships of the fleet.


     "Captain, we're getting a hail from Princess Kodachi's flagship," the 
Communications Officer announced abruptly to the Ops Officer. His eyes 
darted towards Tatewaki. "She requests to speak with General Prince Kuno."
     "On screen!" Tatewaki barked.
     The smiling face of Colonel Princess Kodachi Kuno appeared on the 
oversize Bridge display set high on the forward bulkhead. She was wearing 
a breathlessly low cut number in black vinyl, as was her custom when battle 
was nigh. She seemed to sense her perspective, and looked down at her 
brother surrounded by his confused and scrambling staff.
     "Hello, brother dear," she began.
     "What is the meaning of this, sister?!" Tatewaki shot back. "Thy 
orders were clear!"
     Kodachi chuckled.
     "I have a score to settle, Tachi. I've just received word that Akane 
Tendo is to be found on Capra, and I mean to repay her for her insult at 
Port Said."
     "Cease this mutinous activity at once!" Tatewaki raged. "Return thy 
ships to their station and speak no more of harming my bride. Were I not 
your brother, I would have you fired upon!"
     Kodachi blew him a kiss. "Give my love to Father. Adieu!" She signed 
off, and the screen went blank.
     _Imperator's_ Sensory Section broke in on the intercom.
     "Conn; Sensory, we are detecting an energy buildup from Bravo One and 
Two. Possible Jump signature."
     Tatewaki whirled on his staff.
     "Fire Control!" he thundered. "Target the JumpCore of my sister's ship 
and fire all weapons that can be brought to bear!"
     His gunners scrambled to comply, but most of _Imperator's_ weaponry 
that could reach Kodachi's starship were massive Naval Lasers that would 
take several minutes to energize and bring to bear.
     A brilliant flash of light through the viewports told them that they 
were in vain.
     "Conn, Sensory; Ships Bravo One and Two have Jumped."
     Tatewaki Kuno bowed his head in contempt of his sister, his blood 
boiling with useless anger. He reached out to collar his Operations 
Officer, and dragged him close.
     "When we arrive in the Capra System, you shall dispatch marines to 
board and seize my sister's ship. See that no harm comes to her, but slay 
at once any of her crew that resist. Bring her unto me only when I deem 
fit to pass judgment upon her, but keep her comfortable and well guarded. 
Is that understood, Captain?"
     The Operations Officer nodded vigorously.
     "Good. Now resume the countdown and carry out the fleet deployment."
     Tatewaki Kuno seethed quietly to himself as his crew prepared the 
fleet for Jump. His sister could not and would not escape him. Nor would 
the cursed Ranma Saotome.



                            END OF PART SIX



Many Thanks to Keener Barnes for his detailed and insightful comments and 
suggestions for the first five installments of this fanfic, and also many 
thanks to those of you who have linked "The Saotome Gambit" from your 
webpages.




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