Hey all,

I'm posting this to the list for Jeffrey.  Send all comments to him at samashta@hotmail.com

Thank ya much,

Anand

------------------

My computer just ate Chapter Nine, so be patient with me while I try and
dig out the back up that I made.  If all goes well, I'll post it later
this evening, if not, I should have something for you tomorrow.

Enjoy!
Jeffrey

*****************
Progeny Chapter Eight

By Jeffrey Vasquez

Disclaimer:

Based on the series Sailor Moon. All characters copyrighted by
Naoko Takeuchi, Toei Animation, and Kodansha.

The characters of Ranma �� are the express property of the most
benevolent queen of comedy, her Highness, the revered Rumiko
Takahashi and Shogokukan. I am in no way claiming, or even
pretending to own these characters.

The rest belong to me.

********
Elsewhere... Pre-dawn

Nabiki had seen quite a lot in her time, mostly because of a certain
martial
artist that had come to live with her and her family. She had been privy
to
the machinations of an ancient Amazon tribe, watched feats of martial
skill that should have been impossible, and participated in some of the
most exotic and fantastic adventures that a human could imagine... and
that was in the first few months of Ranma's stay.

To say that she was familiar with legendary figures, and at ease around
powerful characters was a given. So dealing with the likes of Mother and
Father, and the rest of the Clan wasn't all that bad.

She had read enough fiction, to know that they were using telepathy.

What was truly remarkable, considering the circumstances, was that she
never once lost sight of who she was amidst all of the voices and
personalities. She thought that the whole experience was something more
and less than she had hoped it would be.

She hadn't made any huge discoveries about herself, despite the fact
that
she had ample time to reflect on the topic. Nor was she able to see into
anyone else's head. That was the thing that disappointed her most. She'd
always thought it would be cool to get a good look inside of people's
heads.

She had to admit though, in spite of her cavalier attitude, that this
little
adventure had pushed her to her proverbial limits.

Normally she would have been very aloof, keeping her distance and
remaining objective, while the world did its best to pummel Ranma. Due
to her current position, she wasn't sure that she was going to be able
to do
that any more. She wasn't sure if she wanted to either.

She had always envied Akane. She could admit that now. Her younger
sister had a devoted fianc�e, no matter what the youngest Tendo had
thought. And the Chaos that surrounded Ranma made her blood sing with
excitement. Nabiki could also admit that she regretted not snatching
Ranma up when she had the chance.

When Akane had called off the engagement, she had been elated. But she
wasn't stupid. She could see that Akane loved Ranma, just as much as
Ranma loved Akane. Nabiki knew that she couldn't compete with that.

So, more often than not, she would also try and balance out her losses
by
turning a quick buck... which would unerringly find its way back into
the
afflicted boy's stomach or the "Emergency Akane Fund".

By design... or by accident, she was never completely sure which.

During the Golden Days, before Akane had died, Nabiki hadn't really
considered herself a central figure to the turmoil that followed Ranma
like
a plague. But things change.

The minute that she had made her vow at the cemetery had changed all of
hat. Her position jockeyed to a "higher" status, and placed her directly
in
line for being swept up into the cyclonic madness of Ranma's existence.

It was something that had never really occurred to her before now. But
she wasn't sure that it was a bad thing....

Sure, being the focus of every Martial Artist that came to challenge
Ranma would get annoying, but at the same time being saved by him
wouldn't be all that bad either. And she was determined to show him how
much she appreciated his attentiveness. If Akane had made it worth his
while, they might have avoided so much of the suffering that had in the
end separated them.

It was a mistake that Nabiki wasn't going to repeat if she could help
it.
Now, if she could only get a certain statuesque figure out of her head,
things would be perfect. A number of chuckles echoed in her mind at the
thought of Yoshitsune, making her glare out into the darkness that still
surrounded her.

Nabiki growled and slammed a mental wall around her to keep the
eavesdroppers at bay. She could tell that she was getting better at
keeping
her thoughts private from the others, but every once in a while she
would
relax and slip; to the amusement of her companions in the darkness.

The darkness....

She still couldn't tell how long she had been here. Mother had long
since
gone silent, leaving her to her relax in the peaceful sea of darkness;
surrounded by the love and general well being of the other members of
Mother's Clan.

She had spoken to Father for a time; the conversation was reminiscent of
the ones that she used to have with Grandfather Miyuji. Both men..., at
least that was how she viewed the disembodied voice of Father.... Both
men had the same gruff mannerisms, that covered a soft, if not pliable
heart, like a suit of armor. Nabiki had been adept at breaking through
her
grandfather's grumpy exterior, and that ability had proved just as
effective
with Father.

It was a wonderful experience for her, that almost made her forget where
she was at times. Unfortunately, not being able to see or feel her body
tended to dampen the phenomenon. This whole episode felt like some
sort of wild dream, and she kept waiting for herself to wake up at home
to
the sounds of Ranma and Akane fighting.

She knew better of course, but that didn't stop her from dreaming. The
thought of home, and of Ranma made her heart ache. No matter how
wonderful she felt here, it wasn't her home. Nor could the people, if
she
could really call these voices "people", replace those that she loved.
It
was time for her to return to reality; but she wasn't sure how. Well, if
this
really was a dream, she should be able to just will herself out.

She focused her mind and thought about the cabin that she had been
staying in. It wasn't a very clear image, so she tried something more
familiar.

The image of her room at home was crystal clear. Her bed was... there,
and her desk sat just so, and her closet was opposite that. Her walls
were
decorated with various posters, mostly of musicians and actors that she
had come to enjoy over the years. Her teddy bear rested on her bed, next
to the window, while her stereo sat upon a set of shelves near her desk.

The image was so clear that she could almost feel herself laying on her
bed.

Yet, nothing else happened. No teleportation, no magic sparkles,
nothing.... For the love of... this was getting ridiculous! She needed
to get
back to her studying. She needed to get back to Ranma, Kasumi, and
Daddy! She didn't have time to dream like this!

She tried again, envisioning her room with more clarity than before.
Perhaps she could draw herself out of this dream by focusing on
something that she knew was real. Teddy was good. She imagined his
soft fur, and the lumpiness of his body. He had that one eye missing,
and
then there was the chocolate milk stain that Akane had spilled on him
when she was six. You couldn't really tell, since his fur was brown, but
she knew where to look.

Still nothing....

Fine. When in Rome....

**Mother?** The mental call was patient, well sort of..., and held with
it
a sense of need. The call went unanswered. **Why doesn't that surprise
me?** She thought sarcastically.

**Mother? Father? Hey!** Again no answer. Her mind started to panic a
little, at the thought of not being able to wake. She struggled to force
herself to wake, which caused time to crawl with even more sluggishly
than before.

**Mother! Father! Anyone!**

Nabiki felt something... a pressure against her upper body where her
shoulders would have been. She did her best to thrash free of whatever
was binding her, only to have the pressure increase. From somewhere
beyond her, she heard something. It was mumbled at first, but seemed to
grow more distinct with each passing moment.

"...ik.... p...."

**Help me! Please!**

"Nab... ae... p!"

The morass of the void about her seemed as thick as crude oil, and twice
as confining as tar.

"Nabiki! Wake up!"

Kasumi's urgent voice finally roused her sister from the depths of her
dream. Nabiki had always been a deep sleeper, but this had worried her
somewhat. Perhaps she could convince her to speak with Tofu-chan
later.

"Kasumi?" The eldest Tendo shook her head, wondering if Nabiki would
ever become a morning person. "What are you doing in here?"
It must have been some dream in order to carry over this much into
waking, Kasumi thought. "Don't be silly Nabiki. I live here!" Kasumi
grew very concerned fore her younger sister, wondering if she had caught
a cold. She felt her forehead, checking against a fever, but found none.

"Where am I?" The question was definitely out of character for Nabiki,
which worried Kasumi all the more.

"You're home Nabiki. You arrived early this morning with your guests."

Kasumi had never before witnessed the miracle of Nabiki coming fully
awake
in such a short period of time. "If you don't hurry Washi-san and Uncle
Saotome will eat all of your breakfast."

Nabiki looked wide eyed at her sister who, true to form, smiled calmly
and then departed. Nabiki sat in her bed for a long time, just staring
into
space, until a familiar laugh brought her fully into the grip of
reality.

"...Washi-san?"

Mr. Eagle.... It hadn't been a dream. What in the world did they want
from her anyway?

********
A Dream....

He floated in a black morass, drifting aimlessly from one jumbled set of
memories to another. Each scene was his, and yet not. He remembered
everything associated with the experiences, but knew that he hadn't
lived
them.

At least not in this life.

Those words echoed in his mind as he fought to make sense of what he
saw around him. Images and scenes that were familiar... and yet entirely
foreign at the same time flashed before him, settling into something
more
solid, for a lack of a better term.

He was back at the Tendos, sitting on the roof looking out at an ocean
sunset. **Since when did the Tendos own a beach house?**  The thought
evaporated like so much fog, as he felt someone shift in his arms.

That was odd. He'd never let anyone get this close to him. It was too
"mushy" for a tough guy like him. It wasn't like the closeness of the
feminine body next to him made Ranma nervous or anything. He never
got nervous except where cats were concerned of course. Ranma looked
down and was pleasantly surprised to see a head of blue-black hair
nestled
against his chest.

"How long will you be away?" A quiet voice asked.

"Not long. Two days at most." He couldn't connect the tone and pitch of
that soft whisper to a face, but an image of a vast library filled his
mind's
eye.

He remembered shelves; towering thirty foot shelves, that dominated the
vision, and were topped by a second level of stacks that rose another
thirty
feet in the air. A part of his mind named the place as his mother's
library.

And in an isolated corner next to a window, a young woman with short
dark hair was curled up on a bench, reading in the golden light of the
afternoon.

But Nodoka had never owned anything like this.

Ever.

The young woman looked up and he could almost make out her smile. A
smile that he would die for a thousand times over. **She was always so
cute when she smiled.**

The image faded and was replaced by a dojo; a mad conglomeration of
marble pillars and the humble mats of the Tendo training hall.

Somewhere behind him, the soft shuffling of feet played across the room,
punctuated every so often by the sharp rustling of cloth or a powerful
kiai.

He loved the feel of the place. There was something about the sweat
stained wood floor and the vaulting marble arches, that whispered
"perfection" into his soul. The smell of activity was heavy in the air,
causing Ranma to want to move. The call was so great, that he buckled
and began flowing through a complex kata that he had never before
practiced; but remembered performing a thousand times.

A flurry of punches flowed into a majestic reversed crescent kick. Each
move was performed with a perfection that he had only dreamed of.

**A dream. That's what this is.** his mind rationalized. Yet the
familiarity
of the images couldn't be denied.

He continued to move unconsciously, flowing from one powerful form to
another; knowing without a doubt that he had never learned the moves
from Genma. Confusion tugged at him as he executed a complex, aerial
kick combo, and rolled midway through the maneuver into a blazing set of
punches that made his Amaguriken technique look slow and weak.

Power roared through his limbs, and he could hear the Song of the Earth
coursing through his veins.

It was beautiful.

A new form grew from the old when Ranma noticed that the room had
become filled with mirrors. Hundreds of reflections stared back at him
as
he moved through the kata. Many looked like him but he knew, that on
some fundamental level they were different.

That one had a scar on his chin.

This one wore glasses and carried a stack of books.

Those two had a positively evil look about them.

While the guy to his right wore a black uniform with some military
insignia stitched in silver thread at the throat of his jacket.

They were all Ranma... but not.

"What the hell's goin' on here?" His kata slowed to a halt as more and
more mirrors made themselves known. They seemed to go on forever.

A mist rose from the floor, carpeting everything within the scope of his
vision, in a white fog from the knees down. The mirrors stared back at
him, watching him mutely as he struggled to make sense of the images.

"Answer me damnit! What do you want from me?"

"I want you to remember." Ranma turned at the sound of his own voice,
to gape at the black uniformed... Ranma, as he stepped from a mirror. "I
want you to remember who you really are."

The black clad figure wore a tired, but mischievous smile as he circled
his
twin. Ranma slid easily into a loose defensive stance, ready to take
what
ever this shadow had to offer.

"Oh, please Ranma!" The black clothed figure groused. "Don't be an
idiot! I'm you. Do you really expect to fight yourself?"

"You ain't me, man! I'm me!" Ranma growled, hoping that he had said
that right. There was nothing worse than looking like a fool in front of
an
opponent.

The other figure halted directly in front of his twin, and shook his
head. In
mild annoyance. "By Saturn's rings! You really like to make things
difficult on yourself, don't you?" Ranma shrugged in a very noncommittal
fashion. "Fine. Whatever." The other said with a wave of his hand. "If
you want to make this harder on yourself, I'm game. Just know that it
could have been a whole lot easier." Ranma wisely kept his mouth shut,
waiting for the other to continue.

"I'm Aramas Drumheller. First son of Serenity, Queen of the Moon
Kingdom."

Ranma's eyes widened with recognition. "You!" His finger stabbed at
Aramas' broad chest. "It was you, in the dream today!"

"Yesterday." Aramas corrected. "The dream in Math class yesterday.
And yes, in a sense it was me."

"In a sense? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It means Ranma," Aramas rolled his eyes in long suffering. "... that it
was
also you."

The young martial artist shook his head in denial. This was starting to
get
on his nerves. "Would you cut that out!"

"What?" his black clothed twin asked with a smirk.

"All this 'you-being-me-being-you' crap!" Ranma had to pause a moment
to be sure that everything had come out correctly. He hated
conversations
like this. They were so confusing.

"You should listen to him you know." Ranma's body stiffened at the
sound of that beautiful voice.

"... Akane?" He turned towards the sound; pain and longing to hold her
filled him. She rose from the mist, clad in a white gown that shimmered
in the half light. He never understood how he could have called her
uncute.

"You really should hear him out Ranma." Another voice filled his heart,
sending conflicting emotions surging through him. He turned to see
another woman rise from the mist, wearing a gauzy white dress, that
glowed like gossamer around her. The two could have been sisters for the
resemblance that they shared.

"Ami?"

"Isis." She corrected as she came up behind him, gently wrapping her
arms around his waist. "Or at least the memory of Isis." she whispered
in Ranma's ear.

"Isis..." he repeated.

Isis rested her chin on his shoulder and watched Akane from afar as the
young woman mimicked her action with Aramas. Ranma flinched at the
perceived betrayal.

"It's too soon for this." Aramas said, dejectedly shaking his head.
"He's
not ready to accept...."

"Don't worry. He will." Isis nuzzled Ranma's neck in a familiar way.
Memories of Isis cuddling up to him... no Aramas, in the same manner,
flittered through his head like a swarm of bees.

The martial artist shrugged free of the woman's arms and backed away
from the group; keeping them all in his line of vision. "Like HELL I
will!"

Aramas tossed his hands, and shot an "I-told-you-so" look in Isis'
direction. Isis, for her part, simply crossed her arms in a way that
Ranma
remembered meant big trouble for him... er... Aramas.

Damn this was messed up!

He sought out Akane, to see her shake her head in disappointment. Her
eyes were filled with a mixture of worry and impatience; and he thought
that he heard her mumble something.... 'Baka' maybe. As she faded into a
sudden brightness that enveloped everyone; including him. Ranma
reached out for her longingly.

*******

"I just can't believe..." Ranma's eyes were assaulted by a blinding
white
light. "...nyone... ubject their child to su...." The voice was angry
and
really difficult to follow. Ranma's head was pounding like an anvil, and
his ears were ringing.

"... agree whole heartedly."

Mom? At least he thought it was his mother. He couldn't get the picture
to match with the voice. Was it the mother with long silver hair, or the
one with auburn? Maybe it was the lady that was a cat.... Since when had
he had so many moms?

"... isagree. If it hadn't been for... training... I'd... dead. Don't...
istake
me." Isis? Ugh. He wished his head would stop hurting. "I think the
whole ordeal was barbarous... ut the... ults were nothing short of
miraculous!"

"Groan!" He couldn't keep the grimace of pain back any longer, and did
his best to drape his arm over his eyes. It felt like he was lifting a
mountain.

"He's awake." Mizuno-san's voice whispered, and a shadow gratefully
blotted out the light. "Check his pulse for me Ami-chan, while I check
his
eyes."

Ranma felt pressure on his forehead, and then a gentle tug pulled his
eye
lid open. The flood of brightness stabbed his brain, causing his eyes to
water. He blinked rapidly, and batted at the fuzzy shadow looming over
him groggily trying to tell her that he was fine. All that came out was
a
mumble, from a parched and raw throat.

A pair of comforting hands took his and began stroking his arm. "It's
okay
Ranma, just relax. Mom just needs to check you out okay?" His body did
as the voice asked, finding comfort in her presence.

Isis. She could always sooth him. No. Not him. He didn't know anyone
named Isis. That was someone else, right?

Yeah, someone else.

So who did he know with that beautiful, soothing, voice? Another hand
touched his arm, drawing Ranma's eyes to her. The pressure on his
forehead was released, allowing more mobility.

"Mom?" He asked groggily.

"I'm here Ranma." Relief flooded him. It was his mother. HIS mother;
Nodoka Saotome. Not Serenity, or whatever her name was.

"Is Ami alright?" He tried to sit up but the world was still spinning.
"...
monster came... tried to hurt her." Angry memories of Marut's assault
and
the guilt of the little boy's death staggered Ranma, causing him to
wobble
unsteadily. A strong, but gentle hand touched the middle of his chest,
preventing him from going any further.

If Ranma could have seen the gleam in Mrs. Mizuno's eyes, he would have
slipped back into unconsciousness. Forever. If he could have seen the
hope and embarrassment on Ami's face, he would have fallen in love.
Forever. Luckily for him his sight was still trying to adjust to the
light in
the room.

"I'm... I'm here Ranma." Ami squeezed Ranma's hand reassuringly,
making him smile. She was okay. Marut hadn't hurt her.

He laughed and turned his head toward Ami. "I had this wacked dream
about you being some sort of super chick, named Isis or Mercury or
somethin'." The color drained somewhat from Ami's face, as she chuckled
weakly with Ranma.

"'Super-chick', huh?" Mizuno-san winked slyly at Nodoka, and prodded
one of Ranma's more tender spots. The battered martial artist yelped in
surprise and sat up fully, coming nose to nose with Ami.

The two could only stare at each other, remembering a thousand things
about a life that was and wasn't their own. The warmth of his protective
arms around her in the early hours of the morning. Rainy day
conversations about nothing, and small thoughtful gifts that brightened
her
day. The beauty of her eyes the first thing in the morning. The almost
magical way that she could finish his sentences, and kisses that made
heaven seem so close.

Ranma wondered if Ami could still kiss like that....

No! He was Ranma, not Aramas! And Ami was not Isis! He began to pull
away, slowly, when Mizuno-san's arm wrapped around his shoulder. "I
think you're right Ranma, Ami-chan is pretty super."

Ami glowered at her mother and blushed a bright pink, pulling away from
Ranma slowly. She couldn't help but smile at him. It was a cute smile,
filled with uncertain hope, and more than a little longing, that
unnerved
Ranma; but in the same breath excited him. Mizuno-san pulled her arm
away from Ranma's shoulder to jot some notes down before bustling out
the door with Nodoka.

She wasn't Isis, and she wasn't Akane, but did it really matter? Nothing
could come of a relationship with him, except hardship and pain. He
closed his eyes to blot out the sight of her cute smile and lay back
against
the pillow. In the background he could hear Mizuno-san and his mother
talking outside the door, and to his left he could feel Ami walk away
from
him slowly.

It wouldn't work out. She'd just get hurt in the end. If he kept telling
himself that, maybe, eventually he could come to believe it.

********
Mizuno Clinic

Ami watched Ranma's eyes close sadly. She wasn't the best at reading the
subtle signs of body language, but she knew rejection when she saw it.
Her chest constricted painfully and she quietly excused herself from the
room.

"Is everything alright Ami-chan?" Nodoka asked as Ami passed the pair of
women in the corridor.

She did her best to hide the pain behind a forced smile, but knew that
it
had come out more like a grimace. "Yes Auntie. I just wanted to let
Ranma-kun rest some more." She could tell that Nodoka wasn't fooled for
moment. "He's been through so much already for me... and... well...."

Nodoka smiled sympathetically at the young woman, as her mother
finished her paper work on Ranma. It was an apologetic look that Ami
immediately hated, and she quickly excused herself and made her escape
around the corner.

Her mother's modest clinic was bleak in its sterility. The unforgiving
tile
shone with a dulled sheen, while the rooms were barren and lonely all
save for the tools of her mother's trade and a few compulsory
decorations.
It seemed so lifeless and destitute.

Just like her heart.

She should have seen it sooner, and not gotten so caught up in her
mother's matchmaking attempts. Ranma was grieving for Akane, and
after what she had remembered, it wasn't just Akane, but another woman
as well. So where did that leave her? He was Aramas! He had loved her
more than life itself! What had she done wrong to make him forget her?

Her thoughts danced wildly as she walked down the hall to the waiting
room where Usagi and the others waited for news. The hurt grew more
acute with each step.

There was no way that she could face them. They would ask her about
him, and then she would cry. She hated crying. She wasn't as tough as
Makoto, or as unmovable as Rei; she didn't have the limitless well of
courage and tenacity of Usagi, or even the bravado of Minako to help her
withstand the onslaught of this new, formless enemy.

She now understood why she had never really wanted to date. She had
been afraid of this very thing... rejection. Who cares if she had gone
up
against the likes of Beryl and Wiseman? They had been real, tangible
foes
that she could dissect and understand. But this... this was a whole new
arena for her, and she needed time to come to terms with it.

The tears were already building, and she could feel the stabbing ache in
her belly that could only be depression setting in. It was such an odd
sensation. She had felt disappointment before, and even dejection; her
parents divorce had been hell on earth for her. But this... this was
something more acute, something more akin to betrayal. Something that
seemed to reach out into eternity, devoid of hope.

Her control, what little there was left, was cracking. Large wet tears
rolled
down her cheeks, exposing the raw pain that she felt for the world to
see.
She had to hide. She couldn't face her friends like this.

*********
China, The Former Musk Palace

The storm that raged over the Banyankala mountain range matched its
creator's mood perfectly: dark and violent. It had been countless
millennia
since the former Lord of Atlantis had abused the elements in such a
manner, and the previous night's events gave him a reason for releasing
some of his stress.

Rivers flooded and a forest in the eastern valley burned to mimic Ahbrim
Ur's blazing anger. Yet, to look at the despot, one would never make the
connection between the storm and the calm man standing before the
window.

A fatal mistake indeed.

Somewhere high above him in the mountains, a lake boiled sending up
gouts of steam, creating a cloud bank that surrounded and obscured the
peak. Forks of lightning dug hungrily into the earth, and various other
objects - living and dead, with furious abandon. The man, dressed in a
long red robe, stood unmoving as he looked out onto the scourged country
side.

The wind drove sheets of rain and hail down upon the unsuspecting
refugees that yet hid within the valley's confines. Their struggle for
survival had become that much harder since the breaking of dawn.

Ur didn't care about those that he had already crushed. He had the Hunt
to
monitor what he considered pest and vermin. His mind was occupied
with other concerns; namely a son that he had never known.

The issue did little to change his plans for domination and conquest,
but it
did add a certain... something... to the mix. He just wasn't sure what
it
was, or what it meant.

So, for the time being, he vented; not openly, for he had learned long
ago
that to lose one's temper meant losing the battle. And one never knew
which battle would win the war.

He would wait, and allow his anger to build into something more
constructive. If the opportunity arose to recruit him, then he would
approach the situation as needed. There was no sense in wasting energy
over a child, he had fathered so many, that one more hardly mattered.

Right?

Wrong. Had it been Onyx's child Beryl, or any one of the others that he
had sired, Ur would not have batted an eye. But this was his child by
Serenity, the heir apparent to all that he had built and lost. This was
the
child that his former wife had stolen from him, like she had done with
so
many other things; the least of which had been his life.

He needed to see the child, if for no other reason than to see how much
of
him existed in the boy. He knew that this wasn't a need for paternal
influence, rather it was an insatiable curiosity that almost had a life
of its
own.

Years of plotting and countless unions had gone into creating both
Serenity and Ur; the perfect man and the perfect woman. Their child was
meant to be the pinnacle of several generations worth of planning; a
human that was to be the next step in the grand scheme of things. Had
Onyx not been so unstable, Beryl might have been something more. It
was unfortunate that he had to stoop so low to further his people's
designs.

The Atlanteans had striven to create perfection in all things, and in
his
attempt to maintain a dying dream, Ahbrim Ur had taken the next best
candidate. It was too bad that Onyx had been such a far cry from
Serenity,
in mind, body, and spirit.

A sentiment, very much resembling regret filled the tyrant. So much
hope... tossed to the winds because of a woman. It was shameful. He was
adamant that history would not repeat itself where he was concerned.

Women were a plague... no a drug... sent to men to bind their ambitions
and
restrain their power. They were a terrible addiction that was more
potent
that Yerwe seeds or Temeus. No he would never be faced with that trial
again.

He was his own master now.

Someone suitable would be needed, to find and gather information on this
boy. Someone that had more discipline than Marut. If power could be
gained from him, then Ur would invest the time necessary to recruit him.

If not... perhaps Ur could begin anew. Serenity yet lived, or at the
very
least one of her decedents; that would be more than enough to sire a
new heir.

Unfortunately the someone that he needed for this assignment was already
occupied with a more pressing matter. Another was overdue to return
with valuable intelligence about the world at large; but to send him
would
more than likely end in disaster.

Yama was, in some ways at least, more of a buffoon than Marut. But what
choice was there? The boy had already plagued his dreams, waking and
asleep, and Ur knew that any obsession that was left to fester would in
the
end be his undoing.

No. He couldn't neglect Serenity's son, or the potential threat that he
represented; especially after last night. Ahbrim could already note his
loss
in power over the elements. He was no longer their true master, as he
had
once been long ago. Serenity had taken that from him too, even if she
had
done so vicariously through her son.

The Lord of the Hunt was torn from his thoughts as a presence silently
entered the room. The power and scent of the new comer was familiar,
and strangely welcome, despite the irritation that Ur felt towards him.

Nothing suited Ur better, than when a good dose of synchronicity
appeared in his life. It was not the person that he needed, but it was
an
agent that would suffice. Perhaps this was a sign? He just hoped that
the
information that Yama had procured about the current state of technology
in this world was worth the wait.

"You are late."

Ur's voice seemed too controlled, even to his ears. For those that knew
him, it was a warning sign; luckily for him, none of his new allies had
gotten close enough to know him. A practice that he meant to maintain.

He did not turn to face the demon that knelt at his back, much to Yama's
consternation. Instead, Ur kept his eyes focused on a mountain far in
the
distance.

"Yes." The black, bull-headed Rhakshasa wasn't about to bend more than
he already had. No matter what the Pashas said. Humanity was a food
source, not and equal. The fact that this "human" was leading the Hunt
should have said something to Yama; but then again the demon was never
considered to be that bright. Somewhere off in the distance over three
hundred bolts of lightning blew the cap off a mountain.

"What do you have to report?" Again, Ur's voice seemed too calm; much
like the eye of the hurricane.

"Magic is all but dead in this world, and the sheep have created weapons
based on the elements of fire and earth. Some are called 'guns' while
others are more volatile." Yama's report was delivered in a contemptuous
voice for the pitiful weapons that humanity had developed for their
defense. Or was the contempt directed at humanity itself?

It mattered little to Ur, just so long as he received the information
that he
needed to reclaim all that he had lost. He would deal with Yama's
arrogance after he had gleaned all of the use from the pathetic creature
that he could. A plan began to form as Yama droned on about some of the
more impressive devices that he had seen.

Ur would send Yama to hunt for information about Serenity's son, and
inevitably the fool would follow in Marut's footsteps. There would be a
confrontation, and Ur would see how much of him lived within the boy.

Perhaps he would even attend the spectacle, in order to watch with grim
satisfaction as his son tore the beast's heart from its chest....

"... the only true weapon that has been created, is called a
thermo-nuclear
device. Its destructive power rivals that of the Rhuk himself, and could
easily wipe out one or more of the larger cities." There was true
respect in
Yama's voice as he spoke of this weapon, which intrigued Ur.

"How is it employed?" Ur's voice was almost casual in its inquiry, a
subtlety that the bull-headed Rhakshasa didn't miss; and though Yama
wasn't intelligent enough to read the gesture for what it was, he knew
enough about the man before him to be wary.

Not that he thought the great and mighty Ahbrim Ur posed a threat for
one
such as he... not in the least.... Still, he was smart enough to expect
the
unexpected.

It was a shame that his expectations were no where near the mark.

"The device comes in one of two forms: a projectile, and a stationary
artifice known as an explosive." Ur nodded and turned to face the
arrogant Yama.

"This is good to know Yama. You have done well." The bull snorted
irreverently, an act that Ur chose to ignore. "In light of your success,
I
have another task for you to accomplish, on behalf of the Hunt." The
skies behind Ur cleared, leaving the sun shining down upon the Valley of
the Musk giving all that had survived the last two days a sense of false
hope.

"I want you to find the Son of Serenity," Ur moved over to the flask of
chilled wine that sat in a bowl of melted snow, and poured himself a
glass
full of the tart liquid. "Find him and learn all that you can about
him."

Yama smiled dangerously. Serenity was the epitome of all that the
Rhakshasa hated in life. It was this reason, and this reason alone that
bound Ur and the Rhakshasa together. The fact that she had a son, made
Yama drool in anticipation.

The thing nodded once and left in a flash of brimstone.

The fool.

Ur clapped twice, and two forms appeared before him; bowing in a
display of reverence that their brother had lacked.

"Savitri, Surya..."

"Yes Lord?" They said in unison. Their equine heads shivered causing
their manes to ripple nervously.

"Aditri shall lose a son in the near future, and the Twelve shall suffer
his
for Yama's pride." Both nodded solemnly. "I give you the chance to
redeem your family of your brother's arrogance."

Both nodded again, consenting to their master's desire, and the chance
to
redeem their family's honor. It was enough to appease Ur, for the time
being; both brothers understood that they would have to sacrifice much
in
order to work their way back into Ur's good graces.

"I am glad that you understand." He motioned and the two stood before
him. "Savitri, I charge you to acquire for me a number of weapons called
'thermo-nuclear devices' and the knowledge of their use." Savitri bowed
once and after a moment, with no further instructions from Ur, left the
room in the same way that he had entered.

"Surya," the chilled wine felt good tumbling down the inside of Ur's
throat; like the taste of victory after a hard battle. "... you will
shadow the
pompous Yama. Gather all the information that you can about Serenity's
son, but do not..."

He held up his finger before the horse headed Rhakshasa to emphasize his
point. "Do not engage him under _any_ circumstances. Watch him and those
that he associates with. Should the fool follow Marut's example, you
will
allow him to live or die by his own hand..." Ur glared over the goblet
at his
servant. "... or mine. But the boy _must_ live. Am I perfectly clear?"

Surya nodded once, and when Ur waved him away, he mimicked Savitri's
earlier departure. Ur paced over to the windows again, and began
planning
his next step. His son, and the world at large, were soon going to be
introduced to Ahbrim Ur... and there wasn't a thing that Serenity could
do
about it. He needed to make sure that the occasion was a memorable one.

********
Mizuno Clinic

Usagi paced, much in the same way that Luna was pacing outside the
clinic. She remembered everything now, and at the same moment, new
doors had opened to reveal answers to questions that had plagued her in
her previous life.

Aramas was her brother.

It all made so much sense now; the teasing and the games. He had known
and hadn't said a word! The entire time she had tried to capture his
heart,
he had known and hadn't told her!

The Jerk!

What was worse, her mother had known and hadn't said a word either.
She didn't know who she felt more betrayed by, but the fact of the
matter
was he was here and her mother wasn't.

"Sit down Usagi." Rei said, annoyed. "All that pacing is starting to get
on
my nerves."

The look that Rei received chilled her to the bones. The others noticed
it
too, and simply gawked. It was so out of character for Usagi; usually
she
would have a biting comeback that would goad Rei into a war of insults
and childish face-making.

But all that the young woman did was stare at her raven haired friend,
with
a haughty... almost regal demeanor. The whole situation unnerved
Rei so much, that she quickly averted her eyes. And when Usagi turned
her gaze on the others, they quickly followed suit.

Except for Haruka and Mamoru. Haruka wore an annoying smirk on her
face that reminded Usagi of Aramas, while Mamoru stared at her as if
seeing her for the first time.

Her blood began to boil again as she started up her pacing again. She
needed some answers. She needed to know why he hadn't told her; why
he had let her pine after him like a little girl with her first crush.

A hungry smirk settled on her normally cheerful face, and her jaw
firmed.
Aramas wasn't going anywhere. He had been a quick healer, but he wasn't
that quick. And in his weak state he was sure to answer her questions
just
to get rid of her.

*********

Makoto and the others watched with a certain amount of trepidation as
Usagi walked through the door that led to the examination rooms. The
sudden backbone that their leader had developed enervated them.

Minako, not being one to sit idly by, decided to break the ice. "Well,
that
was different." Makoto and Haruka snorted at the blonde's gift for
understatement.

"Did you see the way that she looked at me?" Rei said angrily.

"Oh, get over it Rei." Makoto said with a smile. "You're just upset that
she got the upper hand."

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"No! I'm not!" Rei's voice was starting to get rather loud. "I just
don't
understand where she gets off looking at me like that!"

Makoto was about to say something else, but was cut off as Michiru
cleared her throat and shook her head.

This wasn't the time to bicker. It was a time to celebrate. A family
member had been returned to them. Unfortunately, Michiru wasn't able to
stop Haruka from picking up where Makoto left off.

"I can't believe you Rei." Michiru groaned and put her shaking head into
her hands. "You're always wanting her to act more like the princess she
is,
and the moment she does... you get bent about it."

Rei wasn't sure what upset her more, the fact that Haruka was right, or
that
damn "I'm-right-and-you-know-it" smirk. As it was, she was left with
nothing to say and no way to justify her reaction.

"That's enough." Mamoru's voice was like a wet wash cloth over the
group, reminding them that while Usagi was the future Queen, he was
their future King. "We have enough on our plates with Usagi and
Aramas..."

"Ranma." Mamoru glared at the interruption, causing Makoto to smile
and shrug in embarrassment. "Well, that is his name now. I mean we
don't go around calling you Endymion, right?"

Mamoru rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air. "Fine. Ranma,
whatever. My point is that: not only is Usako acting strange, we have
her
long lost half brother, and a new enemy to deal with. Everything else is
just a distraction that we don't need right now."

Michiru bobbed her head in agreement. Finally someone was making
sense!

"His Majesty is correct...." The controlled voice that materialized
behind
them, made everyone jump.

If there was one thing Setsuna knew how to do, it was make an entrance.

And dressed as she was, it was enough to cause everyone to stare.
Normally Setsuna chose stylish, yet mundane clothing. The better to
blend in with the surroundings. Today it seemed as if she had just
walked
away from a photo shoot.

The calf length, black, spaghetti strapped dress, along with the high
heeled stilettos that she wore on her feet, made everyone stare in slack
jawed amazement. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, that was
draped over her left shoulder.

It was such a shocking sight, that it took the group a while to collect
themselves. Minako had to hit Mamoru on the back of the head, and poor
Haruka got a vicious elbow to the gut from Michiru. The consensus
however was unanimous; Setsuna truly knew how to keep them guessing.

The embodiment of Pluto saw the building inquisition, and decided to
head it off even before it began. There were somethings that were not
open for discussion.

"...Ranma and Usagi will settle themselves in their own times. For now,
we have other worries." Rei didn't like the way her skin crawled when
the
Senshi of Time looked the group over. The others appeared to be in the
same boat. It was an insightful moment for the young miko; one that led
her to believe that things were about to get a whole lot more
interesting....

Sometimes she really hated her life.

*********

Usagi walked briskly passed the first room, checking to see if it was
occupied. The dimly lit interior made her pause for a moment, but the
bright sunny highlights from the blinds made it apparent that the room
was empty.

She moved to the next, and was met by pretty much the same thing, but
she was pulled back to it by the sound of someone sniffling. A sudden
fear filled her heart at the sound. It was filled with remorse and pain.

Worse still, it was Ami's voice that was making the sounds.

They had been monitoring him for a long time now. Had he been hurt that
badly? He hadn't looked that bad when they brought him to the clinic
last
night. A thousand terrible thoughts danced in her mind at the thought of
Aramas hurt; was he maimed? Was he dead?

If he was dead she was going to kill him. The Jerk! It would be just
like
him to up and die on her before she got a chance to tell him off!

The only way for her to confirm her suspicions was to confront Ami.

*********
Tendo Dojo

Soun Tendo was a man of many talents. Since the return of his oldest
friend, Genma, he had awakened within himself skills that he had thought
long since buried.

One of the most important faculties to return, was the gift of
preoccupation.
It was an ability that he had mastered while living under the iron thumb
of
Happosai, that had allowed him to turn a blind eye to the atrocities
that the
old lecher would unleash on poor Genma; Soun's dear friend had mastered
indifference too, all in the name of the art. It had been the only way
to
remain sane during the times of hardship that the two had faced
together.

In retrospect, Soun and Genma both had employed the "Stalking Crane"
technique well after the Master had been sealed away. It was almost
instinctive. So much so, that Soun barely noticed the strangeness that
had
come in the wake of Saotome and his son.

Considering all that had happened, Soun counted it as a blessing:
especially today. How often was it that your, now youngest, daughter
brought home a group of beings directly out of myth?

Genma cleared his throat as he watched the small group of... what could
he call them? Bird Men? And what of the little girl? Or the little boy
for
that matter? They couldn't have been more than seven years old, and yet
their voices made Cologne and the Master seem young!

Soun watched as the group that sat around the table and the common
room, consumed vast amounts of miso soup and other breakfast foods.

The fact that they were eating at twice the speed that he and his son
normally had wasn't so bad. It was the quantity that was staggering.

Kasumi had spent the entire morning in the kitchen, and had only left
long
enough to wake Nabiki before returning to her cooking. It was almost
noon, and the troupe of bottomless pits had just cleaned their fourth
kettle
of soup and five times that amount of rice.

The balding martial artist looked on in awe at their deed, taking notes.

*********

Ami heard someone enter the room and hurriedly tried to dry away her
tears, with little success. She hated the idea of being caught like
this.

"Ami-chan?" Usagi called in quietly.

The young genius closed her eyes and bit her lip. The love and concern
that filled her friend's voice all but sent her into tears again. She
sighed
with a quiver in her voice and leaned her head back against the counter
that she was propped against.

"Over here Usagi-chan." She whispered. There was no way for her to
keep the despair from her voice. Usagi homed in on her friend and
settled
down beside her, waiting until Ami was composed enough to talk. "He's
amazing." She said at last.

No magic. No weapons. Just his own hands." Ami's hands were white
knuckled and trembling. "I studied the data while he slept, and he had
focused enough spiritual energy to cut on the molecular level. I didn't
think that it was possible, not really anyway but he proved me wrong."

She was babbling, but she couldn't help herself. "He came out of
everything with only a slight concussion, and a series of lacerations."
Usagi let out a breath of relief, but held back from asking more
questions,
to which Ami was eternally grateful.

The pair sat for a long time before Ami finally opened up, pouring her
soul out to her best friend. It was only a matter of time before the
tears
came again.

Usagi wrapped her arms around the girls shoulders in a sisterly hug and
held her close. A grim look was etched on her face. Aramas wasn't going
to do this again; especially to someone that loved him as much as Ami
did.

*******

End Chapter Eight


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