DISCLAIMER:

This story is based off of the Tenchi Muyo! anime series, produced
by AIC and released by Pioneer Anime America.  All characters
from said series are the property of such.  The characters Hikaru
Moriyata, and any Argelians (which will be discussed in a later
chapter) are the product of the imagination of Dennis Carr, and
belong to same. 

The persons and many events in this fanfic are fictitious.  Any
resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any event other
than what has obviously happened, is a coincidence.

Any military or police procedure outlined throughout the fic does
not necessarily depict any real life procedure or scenario.  Any
similarity to real life procedure/scenarios is, again,
coincidental.

(end disclaimer)

Brief note: From here, the fic branches off after Karmin's fic
"The Operative and the Schoolgirl", a spin on the TMIL story
where Trakal doesn't get mutilated by Kain.  If you haven't read
it, it's on Gensao's TMFF archive. (members.xoom.com/gensao)

Additional note: Time zone reference for Tokyo is GMT+9.  In
short, if it's noon in California, it's 04:00 the next day in
Japan (or 05:00 if we're off of Daylight Savings time.)  Also,
times are listed in military format.  -Dennis

Warning:  The ham radio callsign AN6D is NOT a valid callsign.
Don't attempt to use it.

Tenchi Muyo!: Unfinished Business

A fanfic by Dennis Carr and Karmin St. Jean

Chapter 1:1 - Placentia

Some forty-five miles due east of Los Angeles International
Airport, in the state of California, lies the city of Brea.  It's
a fairly small city - something like 75,000 people live there,
maybe more - but it is nonetheless a busy one, with a fair amount
of history.  

Around the late 1800's to the early 1900's, when the oil rush
happened, Brea and its surrounding area became a major crude oil
production facility.  Shortly after this, the California Aqueduct
would carry water from the Colorado River, turning the hitherto
arid southern half of the state of California into the bustling
metropolis it is today.

But, as the author, I digress.

Even so, while most people refer to the city of New York as the
city that never sleeps, they tend to forget the Los Angeles
basin.  It's a significantly wider area than, say, Manhattan, but
the region, covering Los Angeles and Orange Counties, with a
chunk or eight of surrounding area, never *really* shuts down. 
Granted, most of the populace of the area beds down for the
night, but one can go out at any time during the night and find
the people who keep the place together at these rather ungodly
hours - the hospitals and their workers, the gas station
attendants, the wait staff at restaurants such as the (in)famous
Denny's, supermarket employees, emergency personnel, the list
goes on.  

And again, I digress.  This certainly wasn't what I was to write
about.

I am mentioning this, however, to give you a better picture of
where Hikaru Moriyata is living.  He works for the Brea Police,
which further serves Yorba Linda, which is just southwest of
Brea, and lives in Placentia, just south of Brea.

Please be quiet as we enter his bedroom.

---
August 3, 1998 - 04:00 Pacific Daylight Time
Hikaru Moriyata's condominium in Placentia, CA

Somewhere in Placentia, California, USA, Earth, is a condominium
complex called the Peppertree.  The complex was built upon a
slope, with architecture that simply could not be described with
any word short of intriguing.  With the surrounding sumac and
eucalyptus trees, it was somewhat reminiscent of a small mountain
resort, and provided an amazing view of the Santa Ana canyon at
the right parts of the complex.

Moriyata's condominium was in such a location - his being the
top/east most unit.

It was a lot like any other dwelling, save for a few other "added
features".  For one thing, upon entering, one would immediately
notice two distinct features amongst the sofa, loveseat and
coffee table.  First off, the living room contained a Cube 100
keyboard amp, which was located near a Roland keyboard and a PC
of a non-apparent variety.  Running off of this computer was a
cobalt blue cable, which in turn tied into a jack in the wall
nearby. The other immediately "odd" feature was that there was a
set of bagpipes hanging on the wall nearby.  This would normally
be considered abnormal for a Japanese man, but the claim was that
he was a displaced Scot.  With his accent being an odd cross of
Scottish and Japanese with a hint of something else thrown in,
nobody knew the better.

Aside from a few paper plates scattered about the coffee table
that he had not bothered to dispose of from meals previous, the
living room was immaculate.

The third thing that immediately threw one off was an odd
assortment of boxes with seemingly hundreds of small buttons,
dials, meters, toggle switches, knobs and such, that would make
the household technophile (read: was thrilled when he learned how
to get that damn 12:00 to stop flashing on his VCR) cringe, on a
desk that was otherwise neatly organized with a microphone, a
morse code key, a computer keyboard, a ballpoint pen, and a
spiral-bound logbook.  Placed on top of the "radio shack" was a
name plate that displayed the call sign "AN6D".  From behind all
of this, one could see a mess of various power and coaxial
cables, which seemingly led to nowhere.  Directly behind the
radio station was the back door, slightly modified to allow the
coaxial cable to worm its way outside, to what appeared to the
casual observer to be a mess of fishing equipment, some with
large cylindrical objects joining two rods of metal, and
something looking like a high-gain television antenna.  If one
sat down at the chair in front of this, one would observe a small
piece of plywood that was covered with postcards from around the
world, each printed with call signs structured similarly to the
one on the aforementioned name plate.

On the opposite side of a wall was found a traditional kitchen,
complete with all features found in better homes: a 3-basin sink,
dishwasher, gas stove (which replaced an electric that was pre
installed), microwave, an automated coffeemaker, a crock pot,
cleanliness that would qualify the kitchen as an operating room,
and cabinet space that, in theory, could store the entire house.

The hallway had no distinguishing features whatsoever, save for a
thermostat set at 72 degrees fahrenheit.

In fact, for the most part, the house was undecorated, save for
the aforementioned bagpipes, which weren't really decoration in
the first place.

And despite the organization outside of the rest of the domicile,
Hikaru's bedroom wasn't really representative of such.  The
bedroom, while otherwise neatly stored, was a mess of paperwork,
network cable, and an odd assortment of beverage containers, with
a towel draped over the back of a chair that sat in front of a
desk containing two SVGA monitors.  Opposite this desk was the
bed, and nearby a clock radio with a cyan display.

The alarm went off with its usual persistant beeping, accompanied
by a blast of rock music, at exactly 4:02.  This caused a roughly
humanoid shaped lump to stir under a plaid sheet on a nearby
futon, and a hand reached out from underneath this blanket,
reached for a familiar location, and pressed the snooze button
before retracting under the covers again.  The humanoid, in turn,
groaned, and went back to sleep shortly after this.

This repeated itself again at 4:12 and 4:22.  At 4:32, the hand
reached out for another button, and a slightly accented voice
mumbled, "Alright, I'm awake!"

Hikaru Moriyata turned off the alarm on his clock radio, leaving
the music on, and threw the covers off of himself before wrapping
himself in a towel as he tried to force himself into a
semi-functional mindset to the tune of Gloria by Van Morrison.

After a brief shower, he poured a cup of coffee, picked up the
newsmpaper that was on his doorstop, and stepped outside to his
back balcony.

As far as his neighbors were concerned, he was another normal
human being, if not a bit eccentric.  He worked odd shifts, being
a cop, and nobody had ever seen so much cable strung through a
condominium as he had done - every room in the unit was now
equipped with a network jack. (Up until recently, this was done by
stringing the typical cobalt blue cable throughout the hallways.)

Perhaps normal isn't quite the word for it, though. After all,
his hair is red - not just a typical auburn, or a carrot-orange
reminiscent of comic-book star Archie, but *red*. As in Kool-Aid.
As in a fire engine.  As in Hawaiian Punch.  Anime red is the
only other way to describe it.  Also, typical of a Juraian, his
eyes are purple.

When he first arrived on Earth, he found it fairly easy to
explain the eyes away - he would otherwise have blue eyes, but
the way his eyes were structured, blood vessels would run just
outside the iris - enough to catch the light to cause the eyes to
look purple.  There's no real way to verify this, as color can
only be determined in the light, and one would have to dissect
the eye in order to know for sure.  (This was not an option, as
it would leave Hikaru sightless.)

The hair was a slightly different story.  He simply told the
truth - primary red was his natural hair color, and could be
verified.  So, they shaved his head, analyzed, detected,
inspected, and retested his hair.  And he was right - it was a
natural color.  Nobody had an explanation as to how this
happened, and several ideas were tossed around.  A few doctors
are still arguing about it to this day, but most have since
dismissed this oddly colored coif as a birth "feature", as
opposed to a defect, since it didn't really hinder him from
performing otherwise normal duties.

(It did get him the condominium, however.  A Japanese toy company
had offered him about $500,000 for his then long hair to
manufacture various toys for a then new animated series.)

He glanced at his watch, noting to himself that there would be
twenty minutes until sunrise would start.

---

Ryoko chose this moment to appear a significant distance from
this building - mostly by coincidence, but partially because she
- or rather, half of her - had toured the area to see what was
out there.  Since having been freed from the cave by Tenchi, it
was a privilege she took advantage of quite frequently.

But this was not for pleasure at this point.

It seemed that Tenchi had been accepted into an exchange student
program, and would require a place of residence.  Naturally,
Ryoko was the one that was selected to go and search.  While
under most circumstances, the agency that made these arrangements
would take care of such situations, this was not most
circumstances.

This is, after all, Tenchi Masaki we are talking about.  The same
Tenchi Masaki who has a former space pirate, a princess - no,
*two* princesses - from a planet light years away, an incredibly
intelligent scientist, and a detective in a galactic police force
all vying for his affections.

So when word of this had broken out at the Masaki household, all
hell broke loose.  First, Ryoko had glomped on to him in her
usual fashion, figuring that, as Tenchi's lover, she would go. 
Aeka, of course, would have none of it, and decided that Tenchi
would decide that she would go.  Needless to say, push came to
shove came to near explosion - and Tenchi Masaki, for once in his
life put his foot down.

They would all go.  But, they had to work to help pay the rent,
as the exchange agency would not pay for the entire bill.

And so it was decided that Tenchi Masaki would become a student
at California State University, Fullerton, and Ryoko just
happened to know this small condominium complex with an
incredible view that wasn't very far from the university.

She flew into the complex, located a "For Rent" sign on one of
the windows, and phased in through a wall, exploring the inside
of the home.

---

Hikaru chose this moment to step outside after pouring a second
cup of coffee, and as he took a sip, he noticed what appeared
to be cyan hair being pulled into the wall of the unit next
door - and immediately dismissed this as a figment of his
imagination.

After sitting for several minutes, he was still only half done
with his coffee when he noticed movement behind him.  After
examining the shadow, he could guess one of two things - but
nobody he knew wore their hair in that fashion.

Ryoko, figuring she could get some more information from the
table's occupant, decided to join him.  Forgetting her manners as
usual, she quietly sat in the unoccupied chair and looked at what
he seemed to be looking at - the horizon, which was just
beginning to show the first stages of a sunrise.

Hikaru picked his coffee up from the arm of the chair, and
stopped.  He had noticed in a reflection on the side of the cup
that a certain pirate was sitting behind him.

*Oh, gre-e-eat,* he thought. *Caught with my pants down.  I don't
carry weapons at this hour, and this is the last person I
expected to see.  I guess I better mind my manner- waitasec,
statute is up on her.  Still, I guess it wouldn't be a bad idea
to be nice.*

"Second class criminal Ryoko Hakubi," he announced loud enough
for his subject to hear, "GP casefile eight zero eight one two
zero two nine, since acquitted of all charges due to a recent
lapse of statute of limitations."  He turned to face her, his
violet eyes becoming apparent in the fluorescent light above
them.  "To what do I owe the honor of your presence?"

She was taken aback - not only for the fact that he knew exactly
who she was, but further for the fact that, even as a Juraian, he
was actually treating her with a bit of respect.

Ryoko finally spoke.  "Um, ah, the ah, unit next door is for
rent."

"Yes, I own it.  You wish to rent it?"

"Well, not just me, ah-"

"Never mind," he said, cutting her off.  "That's for later.  By
the way, Hikaru Moriyata, Commander on GP SIU.  Also a Lieutenant
with a local constabulary."  He turned around to face the eastern
horizon again, and fixed his gaze on the increasing light. 
"You'll have to forgive me if I come off somewhat distrusting of
you - after all, it was you who wreaked havoc over my home
planet."

"But-"

"Yes, I know, you were under the complete control of Kagato and
could do nothing.  We both know that.  However, I didn't learn of
this until about 10 years ago. I hold no ill will against you,
just mistrust."  He paused to sip his coffee.  "I guess if you
were in my place, you would feel the same way."

The conversation carried on like this for the next ninety
minutes, as the sun rose over the Santa Ana Canyon, and greeted
the first crowded wave of westbound commuters on the Riverside
Freeway, just across the canyon from their perch.  They spoke of
many things - how they wound up on this backwater planet, the
simple pleasures of life (such as coffee and sake), military
strategy, the locals, and at one point, even religion somehow
wormed its way into the mix.

Finally, he once again turned to her.  "So, how many want to rent
the place?"

"Seven.  Six women."

Hikaru placed his head on his left fist in thought, and
considered how to place six women and one man in his other place. 
He then stood up, excusing himself, walked into the condo, and
returned with some paperwork, handing it to the pirate with a
smile on his face.  "Ryoko, I guess you're alright.  Have this
signed by everybody who plans on renting.  Feel free to turn it
in with the deposit when you move in."

Ryoko looked at the paperwork, all of it written in Japanese,
presumably for ease of understanding.  Content, she then
disappeared.

At this point, Hikaru could only wonder if what he was doing was
the right thing.

---

August 3, 1998 - 22:30 Tokyo time
Masaki Residence - the kitchen

Trakal had finally gotten used to the noise.  In fact, he had
made somewhat of a game of predicting the timing of the arguments
and resulting explosions that came up between Aeka and Ryoko.
They seemed to continually occur at the same time each day,
and were infallibly about one thing: Tenchi Masaki.

As he sipped on tea with his now pregnant wife, a more mature
Sasami (now with two dots on her forehead, instead of the usual
triangle/pyramid that had formerly sat upon her brow), Kiyone, and
Nobuyuki, he felt a slight breeze as "half" of Ryoko appeared at
one corner of the table, placed a sheaf of paper on the kitchen
table, and quickly vanished.

After this, he noticed the argument began to reach a climax. Trakal
calmly replaced his teacup on the table, glanced at a wall clock,
and half-smiled as he counted down.

"Four, three, two, one."

At that second, everyone quickly picked up their respective
beverages, as Sasami grabbed the ceramic teapot.

---

Somewhere, at a particular Koi pond not too far from the Nekomi
Institute of Technology, at a certain Shinto temple, a fish
jumped out of the water, only to fall back in.

A woman appearing to be in her early 20's with distinct facial
markings saw this event, and raised her eyebrows behind her cup
of tea.

"Oh my."

---

*BLAM!*

The back wall of the house, which terminated the upstairs
hallway, was blown out yet again, raining shards of wood onto an
ever growing pile, and shaking the building in the process.  This
was followed by the usual sounds of machinery as a series of
small robots developed by Washuu appeared from nowhere, and
proceeded to rebuild the now missing wall.

Nobuyuki looked up, and noted with a bit of relief that the
retrofitting he did for the house was still in place.  "They're a
little late tonight," he commented, taking a perfunctory sip and
replacing the cup.