OK, this is huge, I'm sorry, kill me later...

Anyway, this is a kind of continuation-ish fic I thought up one night. It's
also the first fic I planned in advance, so tell me if it works.  You'll
notice I do alot of work with Cologne...partially in reaction to the
"Cologne isn't evil" discussion we had.  

Another note: Yeah, I drop some of the later characters (ie Konatsu).  My
source material is Viz's stuff and the Synopses on the Ranma FAQ, and
frankly, I don't have enough of a feel for Konatsu or Akari to work with
them properly.  Besides, I've read up on Akari a bit, and she is just so
WRONG for Ryoga.  Ukyo/Shampoo/Akane (hell, even Kodachi) is a far better
match, IMO.  (Don't flame me.)

Final note: There's more here than there was before.  It's getting pretty
huge, maybe I should break it up into chapters....

Oh, I hope everyone figures out the crossover bits....

C&C (private!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) Welcome.

Christopher Angel
cja124@mail.usask.ca

Ranma 1/2: The Reckonning

All original Ranma 1/2 belong to the great and mighty Rumiko Takahashi. 
Viz owns the rights in the states, and I apologise for using these
characters without permission.  Please don't sue me....

************************



Cologne sat washing vegetables in the back of the Nekohanten.  She hated
doing it, but since she was the only one who could and stay human, it was
her job.

"<Grandmother, there's a wierd man here to talk to you!>"  Shampoo's voice
rang though the restaurant.  

Cologne dried her hands and pogoed out to the eating area on her
ever-present staff.  As she passed her daughter, she swatted her lightly. 
"Japanese, girl.  You can't get better if you don't practice."

Shampoo nodded and sighed.  "Yes, grandmother."  She went back to cleaning
tables. *I don't want to get better.  I want to get Ranma to marry me and
return to China!*

Cologne turned to the man in the door.  He was an American.  Very young, by
her standards, maybe in his early thirties.  He had the wiry physique of a
scholar and was of about average height.  He wore black clothing, much like
a school uniform but without the buttons.  His face was lightly tanned and
he had light brown hair in a rather conservative cut.  He was strangely
familiar.  "What do you want, child?"

The man smiled in amusement.  "Child?  You MUST be Artmaster Koh Lon."

Cologne's blood ran cold.  The title of Artmistress was one she had not
heard for two thirds of her very long life.  It was a title that carried a
great deal of weight, and brought to mind memories best left forgotten.

"Who are you?!" she demanded.  The man slowly pushed back his sleeves,
showing the black runic tattoos that ran from his wrists up past his elbow.
"A Loremaster..."  She tore her eyes from the tattoos.  "Martial"  she said
softly.  A faint sorrow crept into her bones.

The man nodded sadly, echoing her sorrow.  "Don't you recognize me?  The
time has come."  He looked her in the eyes.  "They are stronger this time. 
We must be stronger still.  This time there must be many."

Cologne's sadness gave way to horror.  "They have become that strong?"

The man smiled at her warmly.  "There is always hope."

Shampoo and Mousse watched the conversation from the kitchen.  "<What are
they talking about, Mousse?>" Shampoo asked quietly.

"<I do not know.  The man's a Loremaster, whatever that is.  His name is
Martial.  He is calling your grandmother an Artmistress.  He's also
pronouncing her name right.>"  He grimaced at the buxom amazon.  "<This
sounds like trouble.>"

Cologne turned to the whispering pair.  "Shampoo!  Mousse!  Stop
eavesdropping right now!  Shampoo, go to son-in-law's and get them to find
that idiot Ryoga, if they can. Get them all, and I mean them ALL to gather
in the dojo.  We will follow you shortly.  Mousse!  Go to that okonomiyaki
girl's restaurant and get her to do the same."  She swatted Shampoo as she
ran past.  "And speak Japanese!"

***

Ranma stood in the dojo, glaring at Mousse while he tried to pry Shampoo
off of himself.  "What's this - leggo willya? - about, Mousse?"  Ukyo
inserted her battle-spatula between Shampoo and the young man and pried
them appart.  "Thanks, Ucchan-hey!"  Akane booted him across the room.

"RAMNA, YOU JERK!" she yelled at him.

"I didn't do nothin', ya tomboy!" he yelled back.

"Ranma, how dare you!" Ryoga roared, storming in from the bath, slightly
damp.

"Hey, P-Chan," Ranma greeted, dodging the punch Ryoga threw at him.  "Long
time no see!"

"Who's P-chan?!"  Ryoga yelled, throwing another punch.  Within moments,
the teenage martial artists were involved in a full-fledged brawl.

Cologne and Martial stood in the doorway to the dojo, flanked by Soun,
Genma, and Nodoka.  Kasumi and Nabiki stood behind them.  They watched the
mayhem that was unfolding in the dojo.  "Do they always behave like this?"
Martial asked Cologne.  She nodded.  "Excuse me," he called into the room,
and was completely ignored.  "HEY," he yelled, without any response.  He
sighed and turned to Cologne.  "Could I impose?"

Cologne lept into the fray, and used her staff to incapactiate the
fighters, using a combination of trips, blows to the head, and pressure
points.  Within moments, the action had stopped, and all the fighters
glared sullenly at Cologne, who glared haughtily back.

Martial chuckled.  "You've picked up a few tricks, haven't you, Koh Lon?" 
He smiled indugently at the former combattants.  "My apologies, children,
for interrupting your play."

Ranma rubbed his aching head.  "And who the hell are you?"  Akane glared at
him, but he ignored her.  "Another ploy by Cologne to make me marry
Shampoo?"

Martial looked at the elder in suprise.  "Koh Lon, what have you been up
to?"  He waved his hands.  "None of my business, I don't want to know."  He
looked at Ranma appraisingly.  "You must be Ranma Saotome.  I've heard a
great deal about you."  He sat cross legged on the floor, and waved for the
others to do the same.  "Sit, children, sit.  You wish to know who I am,
and what I want.  Well, I will tell you."  No one moved, and he sighed. 
"Do I have to ask Koh Lon to MAKE you sit?"  He smiled at the sudden rush
by everyone to sit down.

***

"My name is Martial.  As in the Art.  I am a member of a group known as the
Loremasters.  We are the repository for a great deal of knowledge.  Want to
know how to make greek fire?  We know.  Want to know how the pyramids were
really built?  We know.  Want to know all the secret techniques of any art
in the world?  We know.  It is our job to guard that knowledge.  Not to
keep it hidden, but to make sure that the secrets are never lost.  To use
those secrets to defend humanity, wherever he may be, from his greatest
enemy."

The man pulled out a rosary chain.  "Look at this rosary.  Imagine each
bead on this chain is a world.  An alternate Earth, if you will.  Linked to
each other, like the beads on this chain.  On one, there's no magic, no
martial artists that can demolish whole city blocks, merely normal,
everyday people.  On another, the world is focussed around a huge
metropolis, and robots and power-armor are every day occurances.  On yet
another, five young girls and a young man defend the earth from evil
demons.  In another world, the gods are merely maintainers of a huge cosmic
computer system."  He smiled.  "There are an infinite number of Earths, and
each one is different.  Each one is...special."

"Oh please,"  Ranma sighed.  "You don't expect us to believe this."

"Quiet, boy, and let me finish."  Ranma shut up, more because of the icy
glare from Cologne.  "On one of these Earths, a dark power grew.  It
discovered the other earths, and began to pillage and conquer them.  Their
first stumbling point was the world of the Loremasters.  We used all of our
knowledge to stop them, yet still failed."  A longing look grew in the mans
eyes.  "I still remember our sky.  It was a deeper, more true blue than
yours.  There was this one flower, called the day-night, because the petals
were the blackest night in daytime and glowed like the moon at night." 
Tears misted Martial's eyes, but he angrily fought them back.

"The Dark Earthers entered and corrupted my world.  It is a blasted
wasteland now, the people scattered across the multiple dimensions.  We
have but one goal: to defeat the Dark Earth."  Determination rang in the
man's voice.  "We found there are other worlds, like ours.  Worlds where
the people had fantastic abilities, who could aid us in our fight.  We
managed to halt the Dark Earther's advance, somewhat."

"Somewhat?"  Ryoga asked.  He sat wide eyed, listening intently, like a
child at storytime.

"We have not stopped them, yet, but we have slowed their advance.  Not too
many Earths from this one, there is a rather primitive world, populated by
a kind, innocent people.  It has become our battleground.  We have driven
them back each time they attempted to conquer.  Koh Lon here fought in the
last great battle.  She was my Ar-erm-MY SENSEI's Artmistress."  He
chuckled at their confused glances.  "A Loremaster's knowledge is useless
unless someone can apply it for him.  My, uh, sensei trained Koh Lon in
many techniques."  He gave her an amused look.  "Although she seems to have
picked up a few since she last saw her husband."

"HUSBAND?"  the listeners chorused.

Martial smiled indulgently.  "At the time, the Amazons followed some
ridiculous law that required an Amazon defeated by a male to marry him." 
He glanced over at Cologne and chuckled at some private joke.  "It was not
an...uneventful marriage."  Cologne looked embarrased, and Martial looked
at her in shock.  "You're not STILL following that law, are you?"

"Ranma is Shampoo's fiancee!"  Shampoo volunteered.

"No he's not, he's Akane's!"  Soun retorted.

"Ranchan is MY fiancee!"  Ukyo asserted.

"THREE fiancees?"  Martial exclaimed.  He looked at Ranma with no little
awe.

"Don't forget Kodachi!"  Nabiki called in.

"That nutcase is NOT my fiancee!"  Ranma yelled.  Martial laughed.

"Oh, Koh Lon was right, he DOES have potential."  Martial chortled.  The
group looked at him in suprise.  "Who else but a man with Artmaster
potential could have not one but FOUR women chasing after him," he
explained.  

"I am NOT chasing that pervert!"  Akane yelled.

He looked at Akane then at Ranma with no small amusement.  "Lots of enemies
too, boy?"

"There's Ryoga, Mousse, Kuno, Gosinkugi," Nabiki was counting names on her
fingers. "Umm, well, Herb wanted him dead, Tarou could probably do with
having him beaten a bit, there was that Saffron guy, and I probably missed
someone that Mr. Saotome hasn't told us about."

"Alright already! So what does that have to do with anything?"  Ranma
glared daggers at Martial.  "I still think this is a bunch of crap."

Martial sighed, and looked sadly at Cologne.  "They never believe, do
they?"

"We didn't," she informed him.

"I could hope."  He sighed again, and looked at the others.  "Hang on kids,
we're going for a little ride."  He started to glow white, and he brought
his hands together in a deafening clap.  The world dissolved.  "And away we
go!"

***

The university students looked at the phenomenon in shock.  There, in the
middle of the student center, sat a group of orientals teenagers, dressed
in strange clothes.  A white man in dark clothes was with them, a little
old oriental lady, and two middle-aged oriental men and a woman.  The
dark-clothed man stood up and the others did the same.

"Welcome to Base Earth," he proclaimed like a showman.  "We call it Base
Earth because the only thing special about it is the fact that there IS
nothing special about it."

He glowed white again, and brought his hands together in a clap.  "Let's
blow this popsicle stand!"  The party disappeared.

The students shook their heads and went to class, muttering about strange
oriental students and Japanese speaking tour guides.

***

On a deserted highway in MegaTokyo, a group of people suddenly apeared out
of nowhere.

Cologne bapped Martial with her staff.  "Stop showing off."

He pouted at her while he rubbed his head.  "You were never any fun, Koh
Lon."

He turned to the others.  "Welcome to MegaTokyo!  Now, if everyone would
move to the edge of the road, the show will be starting in," he glanced at
his watch as he hearded the people to the edge of the highway.
"5...4...3...2...1...Now!"

A robot with thrusters out of its back streaked down the highway, narrowly
missing Martial's head.   It was followed by four people in power armor,
obviously women.  One of them turned to the group.  "Get the hell out of
here!"

"Gone!" Martial said.  "Give that Boomer one for me!" He closed his eyes
and the group faded out of existence.

Sylia Stingray stared at where the people once stood.  She shook her head. 
"Damn Loremasters..."

***

A group of people suddenly appeared on the street.  They watched five
attractive young girls battle a demon.

One of them, a westerner, looked at the girls' costumes admiringly for a
moment.  "This job DOES have it's perks, you know," he remarked to the
young Japanese man he was standing beside.  The man, dressed in a red and
black Chinese ensemble, nodded slowly.

"I'll say," he breathed, looking at the girls fight.  "Owww!"  He yelped as
another girl pulled a hammer and whapped him one.  An elderly lady whapped
the westerner at the same time.

"Ranma, you pervert!" The girl yelled.

"I didn't do nothin'!" He yelled back.

"Martial, grow up," the old woman said peevishly.

"I seem to recall a certain Amazon who once wore a similiar outfit," he
grinned at her.  "She looked better."  He ducked the second swat from
Cologne, and laughed.  He concentrated and the group disappeared.

A black cat with a strange mark on it's forehead gazed at the spot the
group had vacated, and sighed.  "Martial," she said with a disgusted voice,
then sighed again.  "Oh well, it could have been Happosai."  The cat
shuddered.

***

The group reappeared in the Tendo Dojo, this time in the living room.  "You
see?  There are other worlds.  Do you believe me now?"

Ranma grudginly nodded.  "Fine, I believe you.  Now what do you want?"

Martial looked at him in suprise.  "Are you daft, boy?  I need fighters! 
This world has some of the greatest martial artists in all the universes,
and the cream of the crop," he waved his hands grandly "is here."

"Why should we help?"  Akane demanded.

"Because it's the right thing to do?"  Martial suggested.  Even Cologne
gave him a disgusted look.  "Fine, fine.  Damn mercenaries."  He muttered,
then sighed. "Because, with my help you can become the best damn martial
artists you could possibly become.  'Martial' is more than a name, it's a
title.  It's my field of expertise.  No one, anywhere, knows more than me
about martial arts than me."

"Nice ego," Ryoga told him.

"Is it ego when it's true?" Martial countered.  "Ask Koh Lon."  She nodded
sagely at their questioning looks.

"I know a great deal, children, yet to him, I am the barest beginner."

Martial grimaced as the calculating looks flashed across their faces, and
one after the other, they nodded agreement.  "Alrighty.  First things
first, I must judge your potential and training."  Almost as one, the young
people started to head to the dojo.  "Exactly where are you going?"

"To the dojo," Ranma replied, puzzled.  "How else can you tell without a
sparring match?"

Martial laughed.  "Boy, I don't need such things.  Come here."  Warily,
Ranma walked over to him.   Slowly, Martial touched his forehead with the
palm of his hand.  A white glow appeared around him and Ranma.  They stood
like that for a moment, and then the glow disappeared.  Martial grinned. 
"Nice curse," he said offhandedly, then frowned.  "Hmm, Kachu Tenshin
Amiguriken, Hiryu Shoten Ha, and Moko Takabisha."  He turned to Cologne. 
"Inventive training methods."  He grimaced.  "Who was the idiot who taught
you the Neko-ken, boy?"

As one, the eyes in the room turned to Genma, who paled.  "It seemed like a
good idea at the time..."

"And now I have a phobia to train out, as well as reconciling his cat-mind
with his human one," Martial finished for him angrily, then sighed.  "He
does have Artmaster potential.  Nice to see training him will be quick.  No
specific weapon skills, lightning quick, reasonably strong and tough." He
smiled.  "I so like trainees with promise.  Next?"  Ryoga walked up to
Martial, who repeated the process.  And pulled away with shock.

"TWO of you?  Koh Lon, this is excellent!" he happily cried.  "Two
Artmasters!  Bakusai Tenketsu and Shishi Hodokan, hmm...that second one
might be trouble, but I can work with it.  The mis-direction thing is
workable, I suppose, but that..." he trailed off at the look of abject
horror in Ryoga's face.  "...that's life, I guess," he finished lamely, and
nodded slighly for Ryoga's benefit.  *I'll keep your secret, boy.*
"Stronger than a horse, tough like a brick wall, and reasonably fast and
skilled.  Weapon expertise in the combat umbrella, throwing bandana and
sword-belt, as well as some reasonable competency in unarmed combat."  He
grinned, and looked at Ranma, then Ryoga.  "This WILL be fun."

Shampoo's turn was next.  "Amazon, huh?  Nice outfit.  Reminds me of a
certain Amazon I once knew," he said, looking her up and down, and was
rewarded by a whap from Cologne.  "Stop that.  Anyway, child, you have a
great deal of potential, although not as much as them," he indicated Ranma
and Ryoga.  "Lots of dexterity, good unarmed combat skill, too dependant on
the bonbori and to a lesser extent on the katana.  Poor defense."  He
smiled at her.  "You'll do, child. You'll be exceptionally helpful with
dealing with his phobia," he indicated Ranma.  Mousse replaced her.

Martial looked at him in shock once he completed the examination.  "You're
a Hidden Weapons artist!"  Mousse nodded.  "But...you can see!"  Ranma
snickered.

"Yeah, and a butterknife is sharp," he volunteered, then gulped at
Martial's fiery glare.  Martial turned to Mousse.

"Tell me, boy, was your eyesight this bad before you started training?" 
Mousse shook his head.  "And let me guess, all your teachers were as blind
as you, correct?"  Mousse looked at him in suprise, and then nodded slowly.
 Martial cursed.  "Of COURSE they were!  Hidden Weapons is supposed to be
used without sight!"  Mousse remained silent, the shock on his face
speaking for itself.  "Hidden Weapons forcusses on projectiles and the
ability to hide what you're doing.  That's why so much of your arsenal is
smoke screens.  You're supposed to NOT use your eyes when you fight this
way.  Your teachers have been taught wrong all this time!"  He cursed
again.  "Your body was telling you something your mind didn't know!" 
Mousse looked dejected, and Martial patted him on the shoulder.  "Don't
worry, son.  You're very skilled, given your unique handicap, and you've
adapted to your curse quite well.  We'll fix it."  Mousse smiled slighly
and walked off, only to be replaced by Ukyo.

"Okonimiyaki martial arts?  I haven't seen one of you for ages!"  He judged
her skills.  "You're the most balanced of the lot, girl.  You too have much
potential.  We'll have to give you some unarmed training though, as much as
those spatulas give you both ranged and close-range attack ability, without
them you're useless.  You're quick, though, and somewhat strong."  He
looked over at Akane.  "You're next."

He tested her, and then looked at her, agast.  "YOU'RE a martial artist?! 
Koh Lon, how good is she?"

Before Cologne could answer, Ranma answered for her.  "She was good enough
to trounce a few dozen boys before class every day.  She's a clumsy
tomboy," he wilted a little under Akane's glare, "but she's pretty good."

Martial looked at Akane with no little awe.  "You're that good? 
But...but...you CAN'T be!"  He seemed to be in some shock.  "You have NO
potential at all!  In fact, if I didn't know better..."  He trailed off,
and then seemed even more shaken.  "No...it CAN'T be..."  He suddenly
grabbed Akane's head.  "Forgive me, child!" He glowed again, but this time
the glow was a black aura.  He locked eyes with Akane, and she screamed in
pain.  A second later, he did as well.

"AKANE!"  Ryoga and Ranma yelled, leaping for them.  Before they could
reach them, the two people flew apart, crashing into the opposite walls. 
Ranma and Ryoga ran to Akane, and tried to see how she was.  They were
pulled away by Kasumi, who looked at her sister closely.

"My little girl has been killed!"  Tendo wailed.

"I'll kill him!"  Ranma yelled.  As one, he and Ryouga turned and lept at
Martial's unconsious form, only to be swatted out of the air by Cologne.

"You will do no such thing, son-in-law."  She placed herself between
Martial and the others.  "Whatever he did to that girl he did to himself as
well."

"Granmother, what he do?"  Shampoo asked.

Cologne shook her head, and turned to examine Martial.  "I do not know,
Shampoo.  I have never seen that before.  Whatever Akane is, he seemed very
suprised to see her."  Martial groaned and started to wake up, as Akane did
the same. 

"She's like me," he said, holding his head as he stood.  "She will be a
Loremaster."  Akane got to her feet, aided by Kasumi.  Martial locked gazes
with Akane.  "You see?"  Akane nodded.

"I...guess so," she told him.

Martial grimaced and tried to shake the fuziness form his head.  "I hate
doing that."  He turned to look at Kasumi.  "Your turn, child."  Kasumi was
a little frightened at this, but came over anyway.  He tested her like he
had the others, and smiled at her.  "Such a kind heart," he said, placing
his hand on her cheek.  "It is truly a pleasure to touch the soul of one
like you."  He turned her away.  "Go, child, this darkness is not for you
to fight."  Kasumi looked at him with a little confusion, but smiled shyly
and returned to her father.

Nabiki walked up to him, scowling.  "I am NOT a martial artist," she
decared.  Martial tested her anyway.

"No, you are not.  You are, however, far too clever for your own good."  He
grinned at her.  "I like that.  Don't worry, you won't be involved."  He
looked at Genma, Nodoka and Soun, and shook his head.  "I don't suppose any
of you are healers?"  He sighed at their negative response.  "Damn."

"What about Dr. Tofu?"  Genma asked, both happy and insulted he wasn't even
considered.  "He's a doctor, and he's even a martial artist."

Martial turned to Cologne crossly.  "And he isn't here why?"  She shrugged.

"I'll get him,"  Genma ran into the yard, leapt onto the roof and bounded
from rooftop to rooftop over to the clinic.  "Hello, master," he was heard
to call.  Soun turned pale.

A little old man bounded past the doorway.  "What a haul!"

Martial froze, stunned.  "Happosai?!?!"  He ran to the doorway.  "You old
reprobate!  Haven't you died YET?!"

Happosai suddenly appeared before him.  "Martial! Long time no see!  You're
looking well."  He grabbed Martial's hand and sook it vigorously, grinning.
 The others in the room looked on suprised.  Cologne sighed.

Martial laughed unwillingly.  "I thought the Sailor Scouts fried you with
that Planet Attack."

Happosai snorted.  "Hah.  They actually thought I was a youma.  I'm
insulted.  They were as bad as the Knight Sabers.  Steal one little panty,
cop one little feel, and they bring out the heavy artillery."

Martial looked at him with a mixture of amusement and sterness.  "You
ransacked the Silky Doll and hid in Nene's power armor."

Happosai shrugged.  "Details."  He gave Martial another grin.  "So,
training again?  Can I help?"

"NO!"  Martial shouted.  "Last time you helped I ended up married!"

"You're still mad about that?"

Martial smiled mysteriously.  "Oh, I'm not mad..." he gave Cologne an
amused glance.  "It had it's moments." He wiped the smile from his face and
glared at Happosai.  "Keep away from my trainees, you hear?"

"You don't really expect me to do that, do you?"  He bounded away.

"I can hope!" he called after him.  He turned to the others.  "I LIKE that
man.  No pretense, he's a lech, plain and simple."  He grinned at the
others, relishing their suprise.  Just then, Genma bounced into the yard,
followed by Dr. Tofu.  

Tofu examined Martial warily, then bowed respectfully.  "Loremaster, I'm
honored."

"Hmmph.  Enough with the pleasantries."  Tofu walked up to the other man,
who touched his forehead like he had the others.  "Excellent!  Shiatsu
training, extensive martial arts training."  He smiled. "You don't like to
hurt people, I like that in a healer."  He looked the young doctor up and
down.  "You know what I am, so I'm safe in assuming you know why I'm here. 
Can I count on your aid?" The young doctor nodded.

Martial looked up at the others, and smiled wickedly.  "Get lots of rest
tonight, children, for tommorow, we begin to train."  He turned to Akane. 
"Is there somewhere we can talk?   We have much to speak of."  Akane
nodded, and led them man up to her room.

Ranma watched to two go and scowled.  "I don't her being alone with him. 
He did something to her."  He turned to Cologne.  "What the hell is going
on?"

Cologne looked after Martial and Akane.  "You need not worry, son-in-law,
she won't be harmed with him."  She smiled at a memory.  "Martial may talk
like a lech, but he's a decent man.  This is very odd, though."

***

Akane sat on her bed, and indicated for Martial to be seated on the chair
by her desk.  "You must have many questions, child," Martial began, but was
interrupted.

"Akane."

"What?"

She looked at him angrily.  "Call me Akane.  You're not that much older
than me, calling me child makes me feel like a little girl."

Martial chuckled at some private joke.  "No, I suppose I shouldn't call you
that."  He rose and looked out the window.  "Akane, I would be lying if I
said I was not suprised to meet one such as you.  You're like me, a
Loremaster, at least in talent.  Do you know what that means?"  She shook
her head.  "Have you ever heard the saying: 'Those who can, do, those who
can't, teach?'"  Akane looked at him silently.  "Loremasters are the
embodiment of that.  I can help Ranma and the rest become extrodinary
fighters.  In months I could take Ranma and Ryouga to levels far beyond
their current ones.  In a year, they could surpass Koh Lon, or Cologne, as
she's called now."  He grimaced in distaste.  "Yet I have very little
fighting ability of my own.  That was why I was so suprised by your skill."

"I have been practicing all my life," Akane reminded him.  "But it did
always seem to be a lot more difficult for me than others," she added
bitterly.  Martial shook his head, and sat down again.

"That shouldn't matter.  It's like someone who's tonedeaf trying to learn
music by ear.  It's not just difficult, it should be impossible."  He
paused, and prepared himself for the difficult question he was about to
ask.  "Akane, I would like to train you as a Loremaster.  As my successor."
 He paused.  "There is a cost.  You will have to rely on the others for
protection.  As time goes on, your skills will atrophy, whether you train
or not."  Akane didn't seem to like that.

"But you're not much older than me," she protested.

Martial laughed, as if she had said something funny.  "I'm not quite as
young as I look.  Besides, this little venture is going to be awfully
dangerous.  I'd like to make sure my learning isn't lost."  He suddenly
smiled.  "Besides, it's easier than trying to write it all out."  His humor
left him as suddenly as it came.

"We're fighting for more than revenge, aren't we?"  Akane probed.

Martial nodded.  "The Dark Earth is evil, Akane.  Pure, unfettered evil." 
He looked at her sadly.  "The best way would be to show you."  He took his
hands and placed them at her temples, like he had before.  "It won't hurt
this time."  He concentrated, and the black glow appeared again.  For a
long moment they remanded that way, perfectly still.  The glow disappeared,
and Akane slumped back.

"I..thought I knew, when you showed me before, but..." she seemed to be at
a loss for words.

"You didn't know the half of it."

Akane was silent for a moment.  "I wish we could show them.  I want to
help, but Ranma and Ryoga are merely going to come because I will, and
Shampoo and Ukyo will go because of Ranma, and Mousse because of Shampoo. 
The only one who's coming for the right reason is Dr. Tofu.  The training
in exchange bit will only be another excuse."

"Akane, whether it's for pay, honor or love, we need them," he reminded
her.  Akane angrilly shook her head.

"No, I won't accept that," she insisted.  "There has to be a way..." she
trailed off again as an idea occured to her.  "I've got it, we CAN show
them."  She leapt to her feet and took Martial by the arm.  "Come on!" 
Martial let himself be dragged out of the room.

***

The five teenage martial artists stood in the vacant lot, watching the
conversation between Cologne, Martial, Akane and Tofu.  They came to a
decision, and Akane spoke to the others.  "We're going on another trip,"
she told the trainees.

"Where are we going now?  Oz?" Ranma asked jokingly, and was silenced by
four very serious glares.

"No, I'm going to take you to the place you'll be defending," Martial told
him.

"Why?"  Ukyo demanded.

Akane shrugged.  "There's something you should see."  

Martial concentrated, and the company disappeared.

***

They reappeared on a grassy hill, under an old tree.  There were farmer's
fields all around them, and a long dirt road ran beside them.  In the
distance, a town could be seen.

"Come on," Martial said, and started his way to the village.  The other
teenagers followed, fascinated by their surroundings.  It was like
returning to the days of the samurai.  There was no evidence of modern
life.  Martial walked ahead, flanked by Cologne.  Akane followed a few
steps behind, flanked by Ryoga.  Behind her, Ranma walked, his attention
spit between glaring at Akane and Ryoga, and avoiding Shampoo's and Ukyo's
attention.  Mousse and Tofu brought up the rear silently.

As they approached the town, they soon gained the attention of a swarm of
young chilren, the oldest maybe seven or eight, who were playing on the
road.  They all wore a sort of tunic and trouser combination, all couloured
various shades of green and brown.  With a cry of "Martial!"  They charged
the laughing man and bowled him over.  For a few moments he played with the
children, as the others watched on, bemused by this new side to the man.

Martial stuggled to his feet, and swept up one of the children.  "And who
might you be?" he asked the giggling child.

"Yuka, silly!" she told him indigantly.

Martial feigned shock. "Oh no, you COULDN'T be Yuka.  You're far too cute
to be Yuka."  The girl giggled at him again, and he turned her upside down.
He peered at her face, and laughed.  "Why it IS Yuka!"  She laughed again,
and he turned her right side up.

The children grilled him mercilessly.  "Are you here to tell us another
story?"  "Do you have any candy?"  "We want a story!"  "No, candy!"  "Ari's
been showing us how to do sommersaults!"  "Who are they?"  With this last
question, the children turned to look at the rest of the group, where they
stared at them wide eyed.

Martial grinned and took the children to meet the others.  "This, is
Artmistress Koh Lon," he said, indicating the old woman.  The children
looked at her in awe.

"THE Koh Lon?"  "No dummy, she can't be THE Koh Lon, she'd be hundreds of
years old!"  "Well she MIGHT be!"  "Nobody's that old!"  "Who are you
calling a dummy, dummy?"  "I'm calling you a dummy!"  "Oh, yeah?"  "How
come you're so little?"

Cologne gave Martial a glance.  "No, children, I'm not THE Koh Lon."  She
looked at the children "And the reason I'm this little is because old
people shrink."  Several members of the Nerima group snickered at that.

"This, children, is Ranma," he got a mysterious look in his eye, "the
Swift."  Ranma gave him a sharp look, and Martial winked.  *Play along,
boy.*

"He doesn't look that fast," one of the children protested. Several others
murmered their agreement.  Ranma's eyes narrowed.

Martial shrugged.  He reached into his pocked and pulled out a bunch of
wrapped candies.  "Ranma, catch!"  He lobbed the candies to the suprised
Ranma, who plucked them out of the air one by one, his hands a blur, not
one reaching the ground.  He grinned at the apreciative sounds the children
made, and openned his hands, offering the candy to the children, who
eagerly accepted.

Ryouga snorted at Ranma's grandstanding, but couldn't help but smile. 
Martial turned to him, next, "And this one is Ryoga," he paused, "the
Strong."  Ryoga inwardly groaned while Ranma and Akane exchanged a look and
chuckled.  Martial bent low, and in a stage whisper told the children "if
you ask him REALLY nice, he'll prove it."  At this, the children swarmed
Ryoga and pleaded with him.  Ryoga flushed, embarrased.  Martial laughed
and pointed out a cart by the side of the road.  "Come, climb aboard."  The
children clambered onto the cart, and Ryoga easily lifted it over his head.
 The children squealed and laughed with delight.  "You've just become a
hero to some very wonderful children, my friend," he murmered into Ryoga's
ears and helped the children off of the cart.

Ryoga blushed again.  "Aww, shucks."  He kicked the dirt a little.  Ranma
couldn't help himself, he began to laugh.

"My apprentice, Akane, needs no title."  The children surrounded her an
pelted her with questions like they had the others.  Akane laughed and
answered them as best she could.  "The Warrioress Shampoo."  Shampoo smiled
brightly at the children.  "Mousse the Relentless."  That one ellicited a
guffaw from Ranma and Ryoga, and a slight grimace from Shampoo.  Mousse
blithely ignored them and did a few magic tricks for the children, making
coins appear from behind ears and pulling flowers out of nowhere.  

Martial turned to the last two members of the Nerima group.  "The Wise Dr.
Tofu," indicating the doctor, who smiled reassuringly, "and the Stalwart
Ukyo."  Ukyo gave him a shocked glance, then blushed slightly.

"Marty, stop embarrassing the lady."  The crowd looked up to see a handsome
young man alight on the ground beside Ukyo.  "Mine apologies for Marty's
behavior, miss, he sometimes forgets to act his age."  He turned to the
children.  "Why hello, my little friends."  The children cheered and
swarmed the new man like they had Martial.

Martial snorted, a wry smile on his face.  "Act my age indeed," he scoffed.
 "And don't call me Marty!"  He watched the young man play with the
children.  "That fool, my friends, is my partner Arito," he jerked his
thunb at the man.  "And a more irresponsible, layabout, disgraceful
Artmaster I have yet to meet," he said, calling out to the swarm.

A panting, laughing Arito looked up at him, throught the children
clambering over him.  "Oh, and what about Happosai?"

Martial struggled for a response.  "Happosai, my dear sir, is too damn
wierd to count."  He suddlenly smiled.  "Did you know he's alive?"  He
relished the shocked expression on Arito's face.

Arito smiled slyly.  "Urd will be SO disappointed.  Can I tell her?"  He
extracated himself from the clutching children and sent them off to play. 
They waved at the others, who were watching the exchange silently.  "So,
these are the new trainees?"  Martial introduced the others.  Arito's
responses were so varied it was almost comical.  To Cologne, he was
respectful to the point of obsequeousness. To Ranma and Ryoga, he was
almost brothery, clasping their hands warmly and grinning.  To Akane, he
was friendly, not too warm or cold.  Shampoo, Mousse and Tofu he treated
like his equals, giving them exactly the respect they felt they deserved.

What was most suprising was his greeting to Ukyo.  He ever so gently took
her hand and kissed her palm lightly.  "The pleasure," he said, looking
into the girl's eye's intently, "is most definitely mine." Ukyo blushed,
not sure whether to be insulted or flattered.

Before the others could react, Martial clapped his hands together once.
"Come, let's head over to my home here.  I believe we can all get
refreshment."

***

The man in grey watched the procession from the shadows.  He sensed two of
his people's greatest enemies, but they were too well guarded.  He narrowed
his eyes, watching the beautiful young girl with the purple hair go by,
accompanied by a young man in robes and another, who seemed to be a healer.
 He smiled upon seeing the last one.  An attractive young woman who wielded
a strange pole-axe.  She seemed far more curious than the others.  She
would be his first victim.

He chuckled to himself has he followed the group.  They seemed like nice
people.  Pity they all had to die.

***

The company followed Martial to a large manor.  It looked like a small barn
had been added to the back of a normal home.  The building was study and
old, made of brick and stone, not the wood and paper that many other homes
in the district were made of.  The grey walls of the building were smooth
and strong, and there were no windows until the second floor.  It was well
away from either of it's neighbors, surrounded by a low wall.  Care had
been taken to hide the fact that it was a structure designed for defense.

Upon entry, it soon became clear that the manor was more then a mere home. 
It was a training hall.  There were two barracks-type rooms, each one with
it's own bath.  The kitchen was large, and well equiped.  The living room
was domminated by a long wooden table with two benches.  Both table and
benches were beaten and scarred with use, but were obviously strong. 
Another room was lined with chalboards and shelves of books.  

The most impressive set of rooms were the last two Martial showed them. 
The first was the armory.  This large room was lined with fine weapons of
destruction, many of which the teens had never even seen before.  Mousse
almost drooled at the sight.  The second room was the breath takingly huge
dojo.  The walls were stone, but lined with padding to reduce impack.  The
floor was plain dirt, and was packed had after years of use.  At one side
stood a small squad of dummies.

"Welcome to your new home, children," Martial said grandly.  He inwardly
grinned at the awestuck expressions on the teen's faces.  *You'd better be
impressed, it cost me a fortune.*  "But before we start with the training,"
 he suddenly had all their attention, "we've got one last place to go. 
Gather around."  The students approached him.  Arito looked at him with
suspicion written all over him.

"Marty, you SURE you're up to this?" he asked.  "You're not as young as you
used to be."

"I'm fine," he snapped.  "And stop calling me Marty!"  He concentrated for
a moment, and sweat broke out on his face.  The world dissovled.

***

The group appeared beside the ruins of a small farming villiage.  Arito
moved to Martial's side, but the latter just waved him off.  "This," he
panted "is what the Dark Earth does to worlds they conquer."

They looked around and saw what he meant.  The villiage was demolished, it
looked like a tank battalion had wandered through.  In some of the
shattered dwellings, crumpled skeletons could be seen.

The landscape was in much the same condition as the villiage.  The area was
silent, as if all the aminals had suddenly disappeared, down to the
smallest insect.  The plants were dry, twisted, dead caricatures of their
former vitality.  The words 'blasted wasteland' didn't even begin to it. 
It was empty, deviod of any life.

Tofu frowned and gathered some of the soil from the ground.  He tasted it,
and spat it out.  "It's sterile!" He exclaimed, horrified.

Cologne nodded sadly.  "They take all the life out of a world, down to the
smallest microbe," she told them.  She turned to Martial.  "We should
return, before they notice us."

Martial wearily nodded, and began to concentrate.  Sweat began to pour down
his face, and his face flushed.  Ever so slowly, the world dissolved.

***

The teens sighed with relief upon seeing the training hall fade into view. 
Unfamiliar it may be, but anything is better than the desolate landscape
they were in before.

"MARTY!" Arito's cry banished any relief they felt.  Martial lay on the
floor, his face beet red and his breathing laboured.  Tofu and Cologne
quickedly went to his side, and began to work.  After a few moments, Tofu
frowned, confused.  He shot Cologne a suspicious look that she didn't
notice, and returned to work with far more vigor.

"Martial, I lost you once to this damn war, I'm not going to lose you
again."  Cologne swore under her breath as she worked.  Eventually, the
flush faded from Martial's face and he began to breath easier.

Tofu stood up and wiped the sweat from his face.  "Over-exertion," he told
the others.  "But something's very odd there.  My eyes say thrity, but my
hands say ninety."

"A hundred and ten," Cologne supplied from Martial's side.  "Behold the
wonders of ultra-advanced medicine," she said, disgusted.  "If you can't be
young forever, you can at least look it."

Ranma knelt at Martial's side.  "Will he be OK?" he asked.  Cologne nodded.
 

"He just needs some rest now.  Martial keeps on forgetting his age, the
vain idiot."  She balanced on her staff.  "Help me get him to a bed."

For the rest of the day, while the others got used to their new temporary
home, Cologne stayed by Martial's side.

"There's something really wierd here," Ranma mused.  His face tightened. 
"But if that's what we're fighting against, I'm all for it."  He locked
gazes with the others, and they murmured their agreement.

***

Night fell quietly on the small town, and the streets were soon empty and
quiet.  The man in grey watched the house.  He saw three of his targets
sitting on the roof, but even he wasn't so foolish as to attack them alone.
 He sank back into the shadows as the door openned, and he almost cackled
in glee.  There she was, his first target!  He watched the girl close the
door and walk down the street.

The man in grey followed the girl, and planned his attack.  A simple jab
would paralyze her, and then he could kill her at his leisure and not have
to worry about that odd weapon.  He couldn't resist a soft chuckle.  He
could have some fun, first, too.  She was awfully cute, after all.

***

Arito lay on the roof of the house, stargazing.  Ranma and Ryoga lay beside
him.  "Did Martial tell you what being an Artmaster meant?" Arito asked the
others.

"No," replied Ryoga.

"There never seemed to be an occasion," added Ranma.

Arito sat up.  "I suppose I should, then."  He brought his knees up and
wrapped his arms around them.  "Being an Artmaster is both a blessing and a
curse.  You do become a truly amazing martial artist, beyond anything you
ever dreamed possible."  He chuckled.  "But from what Marty's told me
you're pretty advanced as it is."  Arito lay back again.  "But the price is
tat you never live for yourself anymore.  You live completely for your
Loremaster.  The rule I was taught was: 'Art before Lore.'  That means you
must be willing to lay down your life for your Loremaster.  The bullet that
takes her life goes through you first.  The sword that enters her heart
must be bathed in your blood."  He smiled grimly.  "There's a whole list of
gruesome examples like that, but you get the idea."

They looked at the stars in silence for a few moments, then Ranma spoke. 
"I can do that," he said softly.  "I've been doing that for her from the
start."  He forced a chuckle.  "Someone has to take care of that clumsy
tomboy."  He ducked the swing Ryoga threw at him.

"Ranma, how can you say that!"  Ryoga growled.  "I'd protect Akane way
better than you ever could!"

"What did you say, P-chan?" Ranma rose to his feet and got into a battle
stance.

"WHO's P-chan!"  Ryoga seethed again, as he leapt after the other boy.

Arito stared at the stars for a few moments longer ignoring the fighting. 
"What was that?!" he asked abruptly.  The two teens stopped fighting and
looked at him, confused.

"What was what?" Ranma asked.  He looked at Ryoga, but the other shook his
head.

"I heard a scream!"  He stood, and turned to the others.  "Go inside, NOW. 
Wake the others.  Stay there until I get back."  Ranma looked ready to
argue.  "Please, Ranma, just do it."  Ranma grimaced and led Ryoga inside.

Arito bounded from rooftop to rooftop in the direction of the scream.

***

The man in grey cursed softly as he dragged the girl into the alley.  She
had managed to get off a scream, and he only had minutes before someone
would show up.  He dumped the girl into the corner and pulled out a long
knife.  He scowled at the young girl.  "You had to go and scream, didn't
you?"  He reached out his hand a cupped one of her breasts, enjoying the
look of abject horror and loathing the girl's eyes.  "Now I can't have any
fun."  He sighed, and grinned evilly.  "How about I just cut your heart
out?"  He relished the moment as the girl's eyes widened and she began to
breath faster.  The man in grey carefully put the knife to the girl's
chest.  He had to be careful, he didn't want the first stab to kill her. 
She had to suffer first.

Ukyo closed her eyes, the littany *NONONONONONONONONONO...* ringing through
her head.  She waited for the first stab, but it never came.  Instead she
heard the sound of foot sriking chest, and the grunt of a man as he crashed
into a wall.  She openned her eyes and saw Arito standing there, the man in
grey flattened against the wall.

"I don't think so," he growled, as the man in grey staggered back into a
battle stance.  "Not here, not now, and most definitely not her."

"Oh, good," the man in grey said darkly. "Two birds, one stone."  He lept
to attack.

Ukyo watched in amazement as the two fought.  *These two would eat Ranchan
for breakfast.*  The grey man swung a fist at Arito's head, but the other
ducked and attempted a sweep, which the grey man jumped over, throwing a
kick.  Arito blocked the kick, using the momentum of the kick to roll
himself back and bring his leg up into the grey man's chin, knocking his
head back.  The grey man began to topple back, but he turned it into a roll
and regained a battle stance.

"You're good, for a human," the grey man said.  "But I'm tired of this." 
He froze, and his hands strated to glow green, and he pointed his hands at
Arito, who stood warily.  Suddenly, two green streaks shot out of his
hands, missing Arito only because he had the good sense to turn sideways
and let the attack pass by him.  The streaks imacted the wall behind him,
creating two small holes in the wall.

"That's the best you can do?" Arito taunted, and dodged the second set of
green missles the grey man aimed at him.  "Try this!"  He gathered a
chi-ball in his hands and pointed them at the grey man.  Ukyo recognized
the sign of the Moko Takabisha Ranma used.  Suddenly, Arito's hands shook
as a stream of little yellow projectiles flew from his hands at the grey
man.  The grey man attempted to dodge, but like a man holding a hose, Arito
simply tracked him and sprayed the grey man with scores of the small
attacks.  The grey man crumpled to the ground.

Ukyo looked at the corps of the man in grey, and gasped as the man's corpse
seemed to evaporate, leaving only his clothing behind.  "What...what was
that?" she asked.

Arito kicked the clothing about for a second or two, and knelt at her side.
 "A shade.  One of the Dark Earth's warrior elite."  He looked at her
closely.  "Are you alright?" He asked, concern on his face.  "I'm sorry,
Ukyo, I should have been watching better...I should have seen him before
now...Please forgive me," he begged.  He seemed more angry with himself
than appologetic.

"I'm fine, I think.  I can move my arms, but my legs are still numb."  She
looked at him with a little disgust.  "You'll have to carry me."  Arito
nodded and slung her over his shoulder.  Ukyo grunted in suprise and began
to beat on his back.  "Put me DOWN, YOU JACKASS!"

Arito stopped, confused.  "Didn't you tell me to carry you?" he asked.

"Not like a sack of flour, idiot!  Carry me in your arms!"  Arito flushed
and did as the girl asked.

"Sorry," he apologised again.  "Is this better?"  He stiffened as Ukyo
smiled and threw her arms around his neck.

"Much," she replied, smiling at him brightly.  She suddenly pulled herself
up and kissed him on the cheek.  "Now I can thank you."  She giggled as she
saw the flush rise on the young man's face.

"A..anytime," he stuttered as he carried her back to the training hall.

***

Morning rose and the teenage martial artists listened intently as Ukyo
related the details of the fight the night before.  "...and then he did
this thing that at first looked like Ranchan's Moko Takabisha, except
instead of one huge blast, he did a whole bunch of little ones, like a
machine gun!"

Ranma and Ryoga looked at Arito.  "How the hell did ya do that?" Ranma
asked.  Arito shrugged and started to respond, but Martial interrupted.

"Teaching later," he said, sipping his miso soup.  "Food now."  He ate a
few more bites, and smiled.  "This is very good," he said.  "Who made it?"

"Da ghoul,"  Ranma through a mouthful of food.

"COLOGNE cooked?" Martial exclaimed.  His hands froze with a bite halfway
to his mouth.  "Since when?!"

"Great-grandmother is very good cook!" Shampoo said brightly.  

Martial turned very pale, and very carefully put his chopsticks down. 
"COLOGNE!!!!!!!!"

The elderly amazon pogoed into the room from the kitchen.  "Yes, Martial."

Martial pointed at Shampoo his hands shaking.  "Why didn't you tell me?!"
he demanded.

"Tell you what?"

"That she's our great-granddaughter!" he almost roared.

Ranma and Mousse spat out their food, while Ukyo pounded on Arito's back as
he choked on a bite.  Ryoga became a statue.  Shampoo looked at Martial in
confusion, then looked at her great-grandmother.  "<Great-grandmother?>"
she whispered, the rest of the question left unsaid.

Cologne smiled benignly at her descendant.  "Martial is my husband, girl. 
Say hello to your great-grandfather."  She smiled as Shampoo and Martial
stood up.  Shampoo slowly walked around the table, and looked up into
Martial's face.

"<Great-grandfather?>" she said softly.

Martial nodded, and slowly wrapped his arms around the girl.  "<Yes, Xiam
Pu.>"  Shampoo didn't move for a moment, and then returned the hug
fiercely.  Martial gasped.  "Uh, Shampoo...I am over a hundred, I do
break."  She hugged him tighter.  "Shampoo!"  He took a deep breath as the
amazon relaxed her fierce hug.  Martial sat down at the table again, this
time with Shampoo by his side.  He glared at Cologne.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he repeated.  "Don't you think I'd deserve to
know?  That she did?"

"I was hoping she'd figure it out," she told him, indicating Shampoo.

Martial grinned. "She takes after our daughter," he told her.  "But I have
got to know," he continued, reaching up to stroke some of the girls hair. 
"It's nice to see that my genes are still making for some goofy hair
colors, but why didn't you make her dye it black like you did with Lo
Shin?"

"Lotion?" Ukyo whispered to Mousse.

"Shampoo's greatuncle," Mousse whispered back.  "He has orange hair.  Neon
orange."

"You no like Shampoo's hair?" Shampoo asked Martial, her eyes wide.

He laughed and patted her hand.  "No, it's very pretty, Shampoo.  I didn't
expect Cologne to relax this much on that one subject."  He leered over at
his wife.  "You've aged well."

"You haven't," Cologne told him, and swatted his head.  "Besides, a third
of the village now has hair like that.  She turned to return to the
kitchen, but another question from Martial stopped her.

"Shampoo, I have a very important question for you."  He looked his
new-found relation in the face, a twinkle in his eye.  "Couldn't you find a
nicer boy than HIM?" he asked, indicating Ranma.

Ranma's face darkened.  "What's THAT supposed to mean..." he began, but his
words died out as a cry from the kitchen brought dread to his heart.

"RANMA!  DON'T MOVE!"  Akane walked out of the kitchen, a skillet in one
hand. "You have to try what I made!"  Ranma looked around quickly for an
escape, but saw none.   He sighed, resigned to his fate.  

Mousse leaned over to whisper in Ranma's ear.  "What is it your father
says? 'The life of a martial artist is fraught with peril.'"  He chuckled
as Ranma scowled at him.

"Shaddup, Mousse."  He looked at the...stuff in the skillet, and finally
chose on what appeared to be a piece of meat.  "You're not helping."  He
slowly brought the chunk to his mouth, and closed his teeth around it.

The others watched in amazement as Ranma chewed once.  Sweat appeared on
his forehead.  He chewed again, and his eyes grew slighly larger, as sweat
started to bead on his face.  He swallowed, turning slighly green, and
reached for his glass of water.  He looked at the glass, and ever so
carefully put it down.  He reached for the pitcher, and began to drink
directly from that, not stopping until it was dry.  He put it down, glad he
was feeling slighly less nauseous.

"WELL?" Akane demanded.

"It..." he began, then faltered.  "I can honestly say, it was the best
thing you've ever cooked."  Akane beamed at him, and placed the skillet on
the table.  Ranma, never one to leave enough alone, continued. "It's only
moderately awful, not completely toxic-ow!"  His sentence was cut off by
Akane's fist in his face.  Ranma peeled himself off her hand, and looked at
her in suprise.

"Akane, you OK?"  he asked, suddenly worried.  "That didn't even hurt
much."

"I told you your skills would decay, apprentice," Martial told her.

Akane scowled, then suddenly brightened.  "Ryoga?  Mousse?  Would you do me
a favor and pummel Ranma a bit?"  The two teens looked at each other and
slowly smiled.  Ranma bounced to his feet and stepped away from the others.

"My pleasure," the two chorused, and began to advance on Ranma.  Arito
reached up, grabbed Ranma's arm and flung him into the dojo.

"Not in the house," he scolded.  The Ryoga and Mousse nodded and leapt
after the doomed boy.

Shampoo looked after them in dismay.  "Ranma should learn when to keep
mouth shut around violent pervert girl."

Ukyo nodded.  "Definitely."  The two girls stood and went to break up the
carnage.

***

Ranma and Ryoga lay sprawled on the ground, looking at the ceiling. 
"Awfully nice architecture,"  Ranma said offhandedly.

"You know, I was thinking much the same thing," Ryoga replied.  "Very
nice."

"Funny we never noticed it before."

"Yes, we really should congratulate Martial on the workmanship."

The two were silent for a moment.  Ranma spoke again.

"You think if we stay here long enough they'll think we're dead?"

"God, I hope so."

Their coversation was interrupted by the appearance of Akane and Martial. 
The two looked down on the prone boys, Akane did not look pleased, while
Martial kept his face carefully neutral.  "And just what are you two
doing?" Akane demanded.

"We were just admiring the excellent workmanship of the dojo," Ranma told
her.  "Right Ryoga?"

"Why yes, Ranma, yes we were."

"You're SUPPOSED to be training," Akane told them.

Ranma rose to a sitting position, grunting as his body protested.  "This is
dumb.  Martial refuses to teach us anything until we beat Arito.  How the
hell are we supposed to do that?  He's as strong as Ryoga!"

"And as fast as Ranma," Ryoga seconded.  "Although, I almost had him last
time but SOMEBODY interfered."

"Oh yeah, blame me because you're too slow," Ranma retorted.  "Why do we
have to beat him?" he asked Martial.  "I mean, you're training the
others..."  He looked over to where Mousse was meditating, and Ukyo and
Shampoo sparred unarmed under Cologne and Arito's supervision.

Martial shrugged.  "Akane's in charge, I'm just advising."  The two boys
turned to look at Akane, who nodded.

"That's right.  Ranma, you're strong, but not as strong as Ryoga or Arito. 
Ryoga, you're fast, but not as fast as Ranma or Arito."  She looked at
Ryoga, then Ranma.  "Doesn't that tell you something?"  She turned and
walked away, Martial flanking her. He said something to her and she
laughed.

Ryoga looked at Ranma, who stared sullenly back.  "Neither of us can beat
him alone," he mused.

"Maybe we can beat him...together." Ranma finished.  He looked over at
Ryoga.  "Truce?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Truce," the other replied, taking his hand and shaking it.  "But once this
is over I'm still going to kick your ass."  He slowly smiled.

"You and what army?"  Ranma countered with a similar smile.  "Come on,
we've got some practice to do."