Oops, I messed up sorry about that.

The Legend of Ranma Saotome

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of these characters. I'm 
just fusing them together. Ranma 1/2 belongs to the Rumiko Takahashi 
and Legend of the Duelist belongs to Rutledge Etheridge.

Chapter 3

  During seventeen minutes of free fall he bounced from overhead to 
deck to bulkhead, trussed hand and foot in the pitch darkness of the 
scouter's cargo hold, trying to prepare for whatever waited within 
the infamous confines of the asteroid Mercator. He was badly 
frightened--and grateful to be alone, so that now he was free to let 
the fear come at him, be explored, and thus be beatean. The fear came 
in images. The one most persistent--the one routinely depicted in 
holo epics--was of hands; hundreds of hands. Reaching up from dungeon 
depths to tear at his unprotected flesh. And faces. Twisted leers and 
red-run eyes glaring at the youthful newcomer with hunger. And noise. 
Bars clanging, chains rattling, voices taunting. Noise more soul-
jarring than the death of Shinar. <That's enough of that. You're 
thinking like a child! What happens, happens.> The key is to be 
ready. Take stock of your assets. <Such as?> You're freezing and 
hungry and you hurt in a dozen places, <But you're alive!> The 
bandage is off your eyes; if you're ever in light again, you'll be 
able to see. And no bones are broken. <Yes, that's all true. Any 
other good news?> No.
  The scouter stopped feather-soft and the cargo hold was suddenly 
and brilliantly lit. He'd have shielded his eyes, if his arms had 
been free to move.
  There came the sounds of a distant door creaking open, and then 
Ranma heard two people entering the airlock from Mercator. The dog-
wheels on the craft's inner door spun three full circles and stopped. 
With arms and legs bound, Ranma pushed himself to a position that 
would put him behind the door when it opened. Then he clamped his 
boots on both sides of a raised deck-support beam to stabilize 
himself. But as the door was pushed open, air rushed through it to 
equalize pressure with the airlock. The unexpected gust--<You should 
have realized!>--yanked him from the beam and propelled him forward. 
Suddenly he was flying, with no way to control direction. His head 
slammed against the dog-wheel in the center of the door.
  Laughter from the other side. "Works every time," a man's voice 
said.
  "It's frightful, Gosunkugi." The second man's tone said that he 
didn't approve. Then he added, "But they ust learn, truly."
  "Come around where we can see you," Gosunkugi said.
  The second man said, "Hurry! They gas the compartment three minutes 
after the door's open. Hurry now. Bravo Level is always so cold!"
  Carefully, still reeling from the blow to his head, Ranma pushed 
away from the door and toward the center of the hold. He spun slowly 
and was still moving when a hand clamped the back of his neck and 
jerked him roughly out through the door. When he was fully inside the 
airlock, he was released and taken around the chest by large, strong 
arms. A small man pushed past him. He was quick and wiry and moved 
with confident control in the micro-gravity. The door was pushed 
shut, leaving the three in complete darkness as the dog-wheels were 
secured. A final twist brought a metallic sqeak from the wheels and a 
satisfied grun from both men. Immediately a hissing sound began from 
the scouter's hold.
  "Danm them!" the small mad said. "Less than two minutes and they 
turned on the hackin' gas!"
  "So unfair, Gosunkugi," the other man said in a soft voice. "You 
always do the job so fast." He pulled Ranma closer against him as he 
spoke. As a shield? Ranma wondered. The man was large, and fleshy, 
and smelled like one of the sharp chemical cleaners his father had 
used in the shop.
  "Next time somebody's as slow as this garbage, Clonus, I'll 
leave 'em inside. I swear I will!"
  "That's fair, Gosunkugi," Clonus said. "I honestly swear that it 
truly is. But it would be cruel. And Mr. Kuno would be very--"
  "Hack Kuno!" the smaller man said angrily. "And shut your mouth 
before you make me sic. Open the hatch and let's get out of here."
  From outside the airlock came the the sound of the scouter and 
Ranma Saotome was carried down into the depths of Mercator.
  Tarnon Kuno sat heavily, in luxury, on the seat the others 
jealously referred to as his throne. There was only one oter like it. 
That one was six hundred feet away through solid rock, sitting above 
the only other gravity generator on Mercator. Like everything else on 
theat side of the world, it belonged to the witch-woman, Akane.
  The Blue Thunder, as he allowed his confidants to call him, was in 
a rare good mood. Hartner said the boy was stubborn and smart and 
would never be bought free. Excellent. For that type there were two 
alternatives: Train them if they could be made useful, or kill them 
quickly. Which would it be? He scratched at a rash beneath the hair 
on his stomach and waited, pleased that the boy was to be his. One 
thing about Captain Hartner; when she owed a favor, she paid. For the 
moment Tarnon Kuno was content.
  He'd just dismissed two women, blessing them silently for the 
natrual gifts of their kind that helped to make his kingdom and his 
place in it, if not pleasant, at least bearable. The two he'd chosen 
this time would have the best food today. And they would be allowed 
to bathe, expecting at any moment to be called again. Would he grant 
them the priviledge? Probably not. In less than two hours they'd 
exhausted their imaginations and were beginning to repeat themselves. 
Better to send them to the Core, and use new ones next time. Then why 
waste food and clean water on them? Good question. He gestured to a 
personal guard standing a few feet away, then pointed toward the 
doorway through which the two women had exited. The guard nodded her 
understanding and followed them through a stone archway. A moment 
later there was a scream, followed by hysterical pleading.
  Turnover, Kuno thought, chuckling, as the voices disappeared in the 
distance. That's what Captain Hartner called it. A fine woman. A fine 
word. it was a law of life. It was almost his name. Turover-Tarnon 
Kuno. They die, they're replaced. Always new bodies to train, a few 
of them good enough to enjoy. A tough system; that's what prisons are 
about. It's rare a man who knows how to use it.
  He scratched leisurely at the itch on his chin. Yes it was tough, 
he thought. Real hell. You can go from Earth to Triton and you won't 
find anyone to argue with that. But I rule here, by God. Eighteen 
years on Merc. I survived. I paid my dues. Now this hell is mine. And 
that is everything. <Except for Akane. What the hell can I do about 
Akane?> He inhaled open-mouthed, forgetting himself for an instant. A 
molar erupted in pain and he went pale.
  "Mr. Kuno?" a young man sitting at his feet said solicitously.
  "Quiet!" he snapped back. "Can't you keep your mouth shut?" 
Careful, he thought. To be seen as weak is to be dead. He tossed a 
key to the young man. "Go to the lockers and bring my iodine." He 
shrugged broadly and smiled. "Tell the guard I'm bleeding again." All 
but three of his lower front teeth were gone. Those remaining were 
brown and angled, twisted stumps clinging to his gum line. Above them 
was a red expanse of scarred pulp.
  The young man caught the key and jumped to his feet, careful to 
stay within the seven-foot dome of gravity. The Blue Thunder always 
kept the terminal at low radius; gravity was a luxury he controlled 
jealously. "Yes sir, but won't you allow me to call Central? Please 
forgive me for mentioning it again, but I'm sure the captain would 
send down something to cure that tooth. Since it's you, I mean."
  "Of course she would," Kuno said. And then he'd owe her another 
damned favor. Right now they were even. "But why bother? Who'd cry 
about a little toothache? You?"
  "No, sir!"
  "And am I less a man than you?"
  "No! No, Mr. Kuno, I never meant--"
  "Then shut up about it," he said pleasantly. Lately the decay was 
more painful that it had ever been, driving him to blind madness at 
times, forcing him to hide his weakness by raging at anyone nearby. 
Or worse. Only days ago he'd killed beautiful Azusa. The sad thing 
was that just the moment before, he'd decided to give her permanent 
status near the throne. But he'd had no choice. She been there in his 
private quarters when the pain was too much; she'd seen him cry like 
a baby, cradled his head against her breasts, and cried with him 
until the pain went away and he fell asleep. When he woke up she was 
still there, still holding him, and he remembered. He didn't want to 
kill her. She'd seen his weakness, so he had to. That was all. He 
said to the youth, "I told you before. The things we don't control, 
control us."
  "Yes, sir. I'm trying to remember that."
  "You're doing fine, Harper. Learn control and patience, and you'll 
always have what you need." Except brains, he thought. This one's too 
stupid to live. Doesn't he wonder why I treat him so well? <For 
Captain Hartner, you fool!> he wanted to should I want you healthy, 
strong, and as virile as your body suggests. Hartner told me that you 
were a holographer's model before you killed your lover and came 
here. You'll be my gift to her, as soon as you've been made totally 
mindless. The drugs are working. Slowly, but they're working. She'll 
owe me a great deal for you, my young friend. Maybe she'll give me 
Akane. Yes!
  Kuno breathed deeply through his nose as the familiar fantasy put a 
fire in his belly. Yes. Wrapped and delivered to me personally. Dead. 
None of her so-called Family will know. No one will see us. Yes. And 
when I'm finished I'll burn her body. After that there'll be no 
challenge to me. Except Hibiki. Never mind him now. I've always won, 
and I always will. I'm the Blue Thunder, by God. This prison is mine.
  
  Ranma Saotome arrived in the throne room lashed to an eight-foot 
section of pipe, pulled by the hair like a trailing carnival balloon 
behind Gosunkugi. The larger man, Clonus, followed and nudged the 
boy's feet upward when micro-gravity edged them downward. They'd 
reached this place, Ranma memorizing everything, after walking for 
eight minutes through a sloping tunner that forked twice and was 
intersected five times. At each of the intersections were three to 
five people, mostly men, each armed with a sheathed knife or sword of 
obviously poor quality. No one spoke to them as they passed, but he 
saw them all looking at him. Some with amusement, most with dull-eyed 
apathy, others with blatant hostility. The only ones that angered him 
were the few who showed pity. He stared back at them all, giving 
nothing and asking nothing.
  The room was an open cavern that appeared to be circular, measuring 
perhaps sixty feet across, although it was difficult go gauge because 
of the domed ceiling that arched over to meet the floor with no clean 
break in color or texture--dark gray, and rough. Two more entrances 
were visible, separated by roughly 90 degrees of arc. There must be a 
fourth I can't see from here, he thought. The lighting was 
surprisingly good. Great chunks of glowstone were inset strategically 
into ceiling and walls, and into four thick stanchions that quartered 
the cavern. At each of the entries and at irregular intervals 
throughout the room were more groups of three to five guards, men and 
women in about equal numbers. He counted a total of thirty-six. All 
wore the crude knives and swords he'd seen earlier. Everyone in the 
room was watching him, except one.
  This was a man who sat alone at the center of the cavern in a 
raggedly upholstered chair. The seat was brown and trimmed in black, 
mounted on a three-foot pedestal. Obviously it had once been a ship's 
pilot seat. The man was naked except for a towel draped across his 
lover belly and lap. His legs, arms, chest, and shoulders were 
covered with coarse black hair and bore the look of formidable 
strength degenerated to useless bulk. He was dabbing the end of 
another towel at his mouth, and it looked as if he was wiping away 
blood. Then he looked up at Ranma, and smiled.
  One of the guards approached and motioned for Gosunkugi and Clonus 
to stand aside. He then put Ranma's pole-mounted, arrow-straight body 
on his should and launched him across the room toward the Blue 
Thunder. Clonus sighed and looked away while Gosunkugi laughed out 
loud, contorting his pinched and pockmarked face. He said, "Brisson, 
you're a hackin' genius."
  Ranma flew head-first, six feet from the floor and dropping slowly. 
He struggled to bend away from the imminent impact, but the section 
of pipe held him rigidly straight. The man was looking to his left 
and showed no sign of seeing him.
  "Move! Move!" Ranma shouted, unable to change his trajectory. He 
was spearing inexorably at the seated man's mid-section.
  The Blue Thunder looked at him calmly, then raised a hand. "Stop," 
he said quietly. In that instant Ranma enter the gravity dome, and 
dropped like a stone. He managed to twist his head aside, and came to 
a stop with his right shoulder crunching against the pedestal of the 
chair. The cavern filled with laughter.
  More than the ache in his shoulder, Ranma felt white-hot with anger 
and humiliation. Two guards dragged him away from the throne. Once 
free of the gravity dome, they rolled him over so that he was facing 
up.
  One of the female guards sat on his chest--a weight he didn't feel--
drew out her knife, and pushed it under Ranma's chin. Looking down at 
him, she showed, white, even teeth in a wide smile. "How dare you 
attack Mr. Kuno!" she called out in a loud oice. "Should I cut him, 
sir?" she pushed the dull blade tight against Ranma's throat, 
obviously enjoing herself.
  "Not yet, Ukyou," Kuno said. This girl was new, another deserter 
from Akane's side. She'd told the same story all the deserters did. 
Of cruelties Kuno could barely imagine, and of happenings they could 
not explain. The fact that they preferred--begged--to live under his 
control was chilling testimony to Akane. This one he kept close to 
his throne and protected by his order. He planned to have her, very 
soon. Perhaps after the boy's killing. Or during! He stirred at the 
thought. "Take off his bonds and stand him up."
  Ukyou slid the long section of pipe out from beneath Ranma's ropes. 
It took several minutes for the knife to saw through the bindings 
around his arms. At one point she leaned close to his face and 
whispered. "You're very handsome. Are you brave?" He ignored the 
taunt and used the time to center himself, to cool the impulse in his 
mind and his clenching hands. <I'm being tested,> he thought <The 
hair one is in charge, and he'll decide what happens next. But first 
he wants to know about me. Very well.> When his arms were free he sat 
up, careful not to leave the floor. He stretched to restore 
circulation and finished the movement by snatching the knife from the 
guard's hand as she bent over his feet. Instantly there was the sound 
of other weapons being drawn. Ranma reacted immediately. "Stand 
easy," he said in as loud and commanding a voice as he could manage. 
The guard lunged for her knife. He put his free hand on her chest and 
easily pushed her away. "Mr. Kuno said to release me, not to bore me 
to death."
  "Wait," the Blue Thunder said to the guards who were moving in. 
This was fascinating! The boy was inhumanly quick, and apparently 
without fear. What would he do next? And would he die with as much 
courage?
  Ranma used the point of the knife to unravel theknots in the ropes 
circling his shins. Within seconds he was free and standing. Turning 
to face Kuno, he tossed the knife under toward the guard who'd sat on 
his chest and taunted him. Startled, she jumped aside and traveled 
ten feet before reaching the floor again, flushed and staring wide-
eyed at the mocking faces that now were laughing at her.
  The Blue Thunder brought his fist down hard on the chair's arm. He 
meant to laugh with them. This girl would be great fun! But at that 
moment his molar erupted again and his face contorted with agony, 
despite his will. Panic consumed him as he felt every eye in the room 
on his face. He acted swiftly to take control of the situation. "You 
stupid hack!" he bellowed at the guard, diverting attention to her.
  It worked. They all misunderstood his expression and looked back at 
the hapless guard. All, except for Ranma. He'd been studying the 
man's face ever since he'd freed himself. And he knew.
  "Get her out of here," Kuno said roughly. "Strip her and take her 
down to the Core. Tell those animals she's a gift from the Blue 
Thunder. And tell them she'd better be dead before I come down there 
again. Do it!"
  The young guard was trembling and white with shock. She turned away 
from Kuno and looked at Ranma. Reading her face, he didn't see the 
expected hatred--what he saw was dismay and astonishment. As if to 
say, <How could you do this to me? It was just a game!> It jarred him 
to realize that he'd completely misjudged her actions before. She 
wasn't malicious. She was playful!
  And looking at her closely for the first time, he saw that se was 
not very much older than he was. A year or two, at most. Her eyes 
were teared over--soft and brown and looking at him!--and her body 
was petite, pitifully small against the woman and the man who seized 
her arms and pushed her ahead of them toward one of the exits. When 
they reached the archway the guards stopped and stripped her naked, 
then held her immobile while others came to leer and paw at her. The 
girl screamed in terror and humiliation, then fainted. The guards 
carried out her slumped-over form between them--as easily as Ranma 
had pushed her away.
  Ranma turned back to face Kuno, ready to should out what he'd seen 
in the man's face. But Kuno had already left his throne and was 
surrounded by hee-hawing gaurds as he strode through the cavern.
  "Come with me," Gosunkugi said from behind him. Ranma turned to see 
the wiry man facing him with a knife in his left hand. Gosunkugi took 
a half-step backward, saying, "You'd better not try that trick again. 
I'm dangerous with this knife."
  Ranma ignored him. He would wait, and see what need to be done with 
Gosunkugi. The shorter man released the breath he'd been holding, 
grunted in satisfaction, and walked away. Ranma followed. His right 
shoulder was throbbingg where he'd collided with the chair pedestal. 
As they walked he realized that he'd been unconsciously keeping the 
shoulder immobile. Moving it slightly brought sharp pain and 
confirmed his supspicion; it was dislocated. From beyond the exit 
ahead of them came the sound of a girl's sobbing, and raucous 
laughter. There was no way to know it it was the guard he'd disarmed 
or some other inmate of Mercator. It mattered to him; howoever 
ignorantly, he'd had a part in that girl's death.
  Ranma looked around for Kuno, but the hair one and his pack of 
donkeys were gone. <Bastard,> he thought. <Your time is coming. I 
know you now.>
  
(to be continued)

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