Hello once again!
Well, I _could_ offer excuses for the delay. I could... and I will. ^_^
"Away for some time", "busy with other works" and a lots of others work.
Sorry; I'll try to be quicker next time. Someday, I'll be as fast as Morgan
Hudson, or Jamie Wilde, or Sparky Clarkson, you'll see.
Yeah, right. ^_^
Anyway, I'd like to thank Trevor Hoffert, Wanderer D, Henrique M. Holschuh,
Larry F and Con_Man for prereading. Without them, you could find lots of
(not so) interesting errors in the fic.
Larry has kindly decided to host my story in his site, too, so previous
chapters can be found at: http://lwf58.tripod.com/fan_fiction/latin_d/
now in both text and HTML versions. Go and take a look!
And I, as always, am begging for any and all C&C you can send me. Public is
wonderful, but I prefer public, okay? Pleeeease...? Drop me a line, and
telll me what you think of the chapter.
After the long-winded notes, let's get on with the fic, shall we?
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: SB6.txt
---
DISCLAIMER: Ranma 1/2 belongs to the brilliant Takahashi Rumiko.
Robotech is owned by Harmony Gold USA, Inc. No copyright infringement is
intended.
This story is based on McKinney's books.
___________________________________
SILENT BATTLES
A Ranma 1/2 / Robotech crossover
by Latin_D (latin_d@uol.com.ar)
___________________________________
Chapter 6: Choices And Memories
---
Thrusters ignited, and the SDF-1 trembled with the unbound power
of its colossal reflex engines. The white-blue novas of its drives lit
the lonely Pluto for the final time, and so the starship began the long
trip back home. Left behind was the corpse of Macross Island, a new and
mysterious satellite of the ancient planet. In the chunk of frozen
seawater that still adhered to the fragment of earth, however, the
supercarriers Daedalus and Prometheus were missing. After being made
airtight and operational once again, both carriers had been linked to
the battle fortress in record time, and were now integral parts of it.
As the huge vessel lost itself in the distance, the peace so
common in that forgotten corner of the Solar System was disturbed one
more time. The entire starfield shimmered as one, signaling the start of
a fold operation. Right beyond Charon's orbit, incandescent motes
appeared from nowhere, dancing left and right with complete freedom
across a large zone of space. Then came larger anomalies: furious
comets, hellish fireballs hot as the Sun. Slowly at first, they began
circling around an imaginary force field, forming a globe of light
brighter than a supernova. Closer and closer to each other they came,
until a terrible explosion disrupted their harmony and dissolved the
sphere, seemingly shredding the universe itself with its might at the
same time. Raw energy poured through the rift, pulling outward and
widening the hole. Ship by ship bridged the long gap of space, crossing
the unique stargate and completing the transition from the far-off
Earth. The irregular-shaped, cylindrical Zentraedi spaceships multiplied
by the minute, more numerous than the visible stars.
Finally, it was over. The largest Zentraedi armada ever reunited
arranged itself behind the flagship, showing a grade of coordination
unthinkable for such numbers. An order was sent and, like titanic green
and brown whales swimming through an ocean of blackness, the nightmarish
dreadnoughts set off after the departing SDF-1.
The Zentraedi had come, and a cat and mouse game of galactic
dimensions was about to begin.
---
Ranma Saotome was not particularly given to fear. Actually, his
only phobia involved cats, and he only suffered it because of one
unfortunate episode. For years he had been convinced there was nothing
in this world that could scare him; neither dangerous animals (cats did
not count in his mind), nor dragons and other supernatural beings, nor
even homicidal demons could phase him in the slightest. That is, until
he started living with the Tendos. It was then that Ranma had
encountered one of the true horrors of life: an enthusiastic woman.
Be it her fiancees, or later Nodoka, women had always caused him
all sorts of problems. The worst came with his curse. Since that fateful
day in Jusenkyo, Ranma had been put in countless awkward situations by
it, and though he had learned to live with them, that didn't make them any
less bothersome. He would never forget the times when Nodoka had tried
to teach "Ranko" to be more ladylike... So, as Aunt Lena virtually
_pushed_ Ranma into the White Dragon after catching him in his female
cursed form, he couldn't help but reflect on how similar his current
situation was, no matter the years that had passed by.
Besides, there was something about Lena that reminded her of her
mother. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact they were both tall
women, or with that air of nobility that surrounded them. Both had the
same gentle but firm demeanor, too. She could hardly refuse talking to
her, and running away was out of the question, so she decided the only
option left was endure it and try not to screw up.
She just was thankful she didn't carry a katana around. Those
things were simply too dangerous.
"So, Ranko," Lena ranted on, apparently not noticing the young
woman's increasing discomfort, "how did you meet Ranma?" They were
seated at one of the restaurant's tables, and the older woman was
serving Ranma a cup of tea.
'I really should already have answers for this kind of
questions,' Ranma thought, silently berating herself. "Uh, well," she
lamely started, brainstorming for a believable story, "I guess you could
say we first met in China..."
"In China?" Lena repeated, surprised. "And what was he doing
there, if I may know?"
"Well," Ranma said, more confident now, "he was on a trip with
his pop, training. That's how he got as good as he is, y'know."
"Yes, the life of a martial artist isn't an easy one, I know
that," Lena said quietly, and then added to herself so softly that Ranma
almost missed it, "Oh, Kyle..."
'Who's this Kyle?' silently wondered Ranma, and decided she would
find out later. "Anyway, I lived in a small village that he visited in
one of his trips, and we became friends." 'Hey, I'm good at this!' she
thought, happy with herself.
"Oh, how romantic!" Lena practically swooned, her hands at the
sides of her face. "Every good, lasting couple starts being friends,
right? And tell me, where're you living now?"
The red-haired girl was ready this time. "I've got some relatives
in Macross, and I'm staying with 'em. I spend a lot of time in the dojo,
though, so don't be surprised if you find me there." It was better to
cover her tracks, she reasoned, as what had happened that day could
easily happen again.
"Everything to stay close to your boyfriend, I see. Well, you're
always welcome here, so don't hesitate to come by, okay?" Lena's tone
was hopeful, and Ranma immediately knew the reason for this. With Minmei
lost, and Max busy helping with the rebuilding, all Lena had left was
Jason. However, the child had lately spent more and more of his free
time with Ranma, studying the Art. The young martial artist felt a bit
guilty because of this, and decided she would try to take a bit of that
loneliness away.
"Um, sure, but I really oughta get going now. I'm really tired,
and I still gotta go to get my ration at the Refugees' Center..."
It was common those days for the civilian refugees to spend hours on end
standing on line, waiting to get the frugal rations of food that the
army distributed. The biggest problem was that the ship hadn't been
prepared for supporting the entire population of Macross, and while the
food supply saved from the shelters was considerable, Gloval had wisely
decided that a careful handling of the resources was in order.
"Oh, but you _have_ to stay a little longer." Ranma's surrogate
aunt seemed very disappointed. "There's so much I want to ask you. I'm
very fond of Ranma, you know, and I want to learn more about him. He's
just so... reserved! By the way, Ranko, is he as healthy as he seems?"
Lena asked, winking mischievously.
"Healthy?" Ranma repeated, nonplused. Lena just stared at her,
and soon realization dawned on Ranma, closely followed by panic. She
stood up from her chair and promptly began to make warding gestures, all
the time denying having ever done anything like that.
Lena giggled upon seeing her reaction. "You needn't get so
flustered, my dear. It was just a joke!"
Ranma blushed, but was saved from further embarrassment when the
restaurant's front doors swept apart. A woman appeared in the doorway,
and Ranma recognized her instantly: Loretta, Mayor Tommy Luan's wife.
"Lena," she exclaimed, obviously agitated, "come quickly! Minmei's been
found!"
"What?!" yelled Lena, echoing Ranma's thoughts.
"Yes, she was in one of those unexplored holds, right below the
city," Loretta hurriedly explained. "Let's go, it's very near!"
Lena turned to Ranma. "Stay here; I'll be back in a moment!" She
practically ran out the door, for once forgetting to act demurely.
When the front gate was safely closed, she rushed towards the
kitchen, where she knew she could find hot water. She also wanted to
meet Minmei, but becoming male first sounded like a good idea. In a
matter of seconds she had located a faucet, and once again Ranma
marveled at the efficiency and velocity of the building crews. In less
than a week, the whole city had been provided of running water. It _had_
to be some kind of record.
She kept her head under the hot water, and after a moment she
could feel the familiar tingle of the change taking effect. It was about
then that he heard the front door being forcefully thrown open one more
time. Ranma jerked his head back in surprise, forgetting, unfortunately,
about the faucet.
"Ouch!" Clutching the back of his head in pain, he hurried out of
the kitchen into the main room. There he was able to see Uncle Max and
Mayor Tommy Luan entering the restaurant--and dragging the unconscious
form of the infamous Rick Hunter with them, he noted with relief. Each
of the older men had one of Rick's arms draped over their shoulders, and
were managing to carry the youngster, albeit with some trouble.
Actually, Max didn't seem tired, but the mayor looked ready to drop
dead.
"Hey, Ranma!" Tommy Luan gasped as he wiped his brow with a
handkerchief. "You can't imagine how happy I'm of seeing you! Come and
help this old man, will you?"
"Of course," replied Ranma, and walked up to them. He briefly
considered both men, noticing for the first time how similar they truly
were. Both were built like a barrel, with broad shoulders and prominent
stomachs; both were good-natured people, always ready to lend you a
hand. In fact, he found it hard to believe that Luan was the mayor of
the town. In the weeks he had known him, the man had never worn a
tie--hardly the common, sweet-talking, black-suited politician he was
used to. "Here, let me do it," he told Max, who immediately let go of
Rick. Scooping the young pilot up in his arms, Ranma set off towards
the stairs.
"Put him in the spare bedroom," Max called out. "He'll be staying
here for a while, it seems."
"Sure," Ranma said, not turning around, "no problem." Only when
he reached the first floor did he realized the real meaning of this new
turn of events: there was only one spare bedroom in the White Dragon,
and it was the one he was currently occupying, so that meant... Oh,
crap.
This was going to be messy.
---
"Sensors register defold activity, sir!" Vanessa's voice cut
through the bridge with infinite clarity.
'So, they're finally here,' Gloval thought, not without some
amount of resignation. He had hoped against hope that this moment
wouldn't come, but in some way he had known a new confrontation was
unavoidable.
Even as he ordered all the Veritechs to stand by, he realized
that they might not be enough to fight off the Zentraedi under the
circumstances, especially in case of an all-out attack. The enemy armada
was simply too powerful, and the SDF-1's capabilities to repel its
advance had been greatly damaged now that the main gun was reduced to a
last resort option. Lang's diagrams determined that the modular
tranformation needed to fire it would all but destroy Macross city, and
Gloval refused to subject the refugees to such chaos again.
All he could do now was wait--and pray.
---
Minmei's umpteenth retelling of her adventure in the bowels of
the starship was cut short as a smiling Roy Fokker walked into the
restaurant.
In truth, it was not an unusual sight those days; Roy had stopped
by from time to time in the past weeks to inform Minmei's relatives of
the (lack of) progress in the search for her and Rick. From the casual
conversations Ranma had frequently held with the blond man, he knew that
Roy had a special relationship with the young pilot. In fact, he had
once referred to Rick as "Little Brother", despite the fact that they
were not related, as Roy himself had admitted.
Roy strolled up to the table shared by the Lynn family and Ranma
and flashed one of his patented grins. Ranma's trained eye observed the
secure, confident, evenly-measured steps he employed, knowing them to be
reserved to accompished martial artists, and made a mental note to get
him as a sparring partner.
After the greetings were exchanged, the blond pilot turned his
attention to Minmei. "Good to see you again, Minmei. I heard my
perverted buddy is here with you?"
Minmei looked disconcerted for a moment. "Oh," she said at
length, "you mean Rick. Yes, he's upstairs, resting."
"Minmei," Max intervened, "why don't you go and wake Rick up?"
"Okay!" Minmei said brightly, beginning to stand up. Roy would
not permit it, though, and gently pushed her back to her chair.
"No, please, there's no need; I'll come back later. After all,"
Roy said, smirking, "poor kid needs as much beauty sleep as he can get.
Besides, I also wanted to talk to Saotome here."
"Oh, is that so, Fokker?" Ranma asked, a grin of his own in his
lips. He didn't know who was the first one that had used the last name
to call the other, but now it was almost a tradition whenever they met.
"Well, let's go outside."
Together they left the White Dragon, Ranma trying to hide his
curiosity. They stopped at the sidewalk, standing side by side and idly
watching the busy street. After a moment's hesitation, Roy turned and
faced Ranma.
"Well, y'know we're short-handed nowadays, dontcha?" Seeing Ranma
nodding hesitantly, he continued, "I'll be blunt, Saotome, we need
pilots. There're more Veritechs than people capable of flying 'em, and--"
"Not interested, thanks," Ranma interrupted, frowning.
"C'mon, Saotome, I think you'd do great, really. You may not have
any instruction, but that's no problem at all; these babies practically
fly themselves! We could surely use someone like you with us, agile and
with quick reflexes." He would have continued, but in that moment, a
familiar female voice echoed through the city.
"Attention, all hands to battle stations. Attention, all hands to
battle stations," the voice blared though the ship's PA system. "This is
not a drill; I repeat: this is not a drill."
"Gotta go, they're playing my song. Just think about it, okay?"
"You got my answer, Fokker." The young martial artist's face was
serious, his jaw set.
"Think about it," Roy repeated, before whirling around and
running towards a jeep parked nearby. "See ya!" Soon enough, the
four-seat vehicle was speeding down the street, losing itself in the city's
considerable traffic.
Ranma watched him go, before shaking his head and entering back
into the restaurant. The table was nearly deserted now, as Minmei, Jason
and Lena seemed to have left. Its only occupant, Max, was looking to him
in curiously, but didn't say anything until Ranma himself was seated.
"So," Max began, "what did Roy want?"
Ranma moved in his chair, unconfortable, but replied, "He wanted
me to become a pilot. He said something about there not being enough of
'em, or something."
Max leaned forward. "What're you going to do? Are you going to
join the RDF?"
Ranma grimaced. "No."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not a soldier," Ranma spat, a bit irked at the other
man's insistence. "Because war has no honor. Because I don't use
weapons. Because I'm not a killer. Take your pick; they all work for
me."
"Nonsense!" Max snapped, standing up, his hands resting on the
table. "You're starting to sound like my son. War's a horrible, awful
thing, but..." he trailed off, his eyes staring off into the distance,
looking at something only he could see. "Ranma," he started one more
time, suddenly sounding incredibly tired, "I'm going to tell you a
story. Listen carefully; you may find it useful.
"Once there was this young man, almost a boy, that lived with his
parents in a small village. He led a good life, indeed, and he knew it.
Every morning, he spent some time playing with his three younger
brothers, who he loved more than life itself. He used to have lunch with
his family, and then left to help his father, who was a farmer. For
hours he worked the earth, shoulder to shoulder with his father, and
didn't return till well after the sun went down. It was a tiring, very
taxing task, but he enjoyed it, and was happy with the simple routine
that formed his every day.
"Routines, however, exist to broken, and so, one day, soldiers
arrived to the village. They were looking for young, strong, willing men
to recruit. A war raged across the country in those times, and their
side was losing. With each passing day, the war came nearer to the boy's
village, and they lived in constant danger of attack.
"Yet when he was asked whether he wanted to join the army, the
boy refused to help. He, much like you, thought that war was pointless
and cruel, devoid of any kind of honor. He believed that if he were to
become a soldier, his life would be wasted to protect other people's
interests. He believed killing was wrong, and that there was always a
peaceful solution. Besides, he thought, what difference will I make? One
man in the middle of a war won't change anything. He thought many, many
things... and he was also a little scared.
"But the war continued, unabashed by his refusal to be part of
it. And soon it was at the gates of the village, and he was able to hear
the explosions at night. He tried to convince his father of leaving, of
moving to another town, but to no avail. His father was a traditional
man, and loved his home too much to see it gone. They stayed.
"The young man's worst nightmares came true one evening, when he
was returning with his father from the farm. He saw smoke in the air,
and in a moment of terror realized his village had been set on fire.
When they finally arrived, there was nothing they could do. Their house
was a blazing inferno, and they couldn't find their family anywhere.
Later, one of their neighbors told them the boy's mother and her
children had been trapped in the fire, and hadn't been able to escape.
Only one of the boys survived, and simply because he was in the street
when it all started.
"They left the village, never to return, and traveled all the way
to Japan, where they built a restaurant." Taking a moment to gather his
strength, Max looked at Ranma in the eye. "That boy was me, Ranma. You
can't imagine the number of times I wished to have joined the army that
day, instead of cowering away. Maybe it would have made no difference at
all, and maybe I'd have died in that stupid war. Maybe. But if I'd died,
I'd have died fighting for my family, or my friends, and that would have
made it worthwhile in my mind somehow.
"Don't look for honor in war itself, m'boy, but instead look for
it in those who fight it. The brave people that risk their lives to
defend their loved ones." He reached across the table, and put a hand on
the younger man's shoulder. "Please, Ranma, don't make the same mistakes
I did."
For a few moments, neither of the two men moved, staring silently
into each other eyes. Then, Ranma lowered his head, and long locks of
raven hair hid his features. As he began to speak, though, Max could
sense more than see the haunted look that appeared in his eyes.
"I--I killed a man. Once," he added quickly, "a long time ago. It was...
horrible. I swore never to do it again, and I intend to keep that
promise."
Max fumbled for words, looking for something to say, anything,
that could help Ranma, but his mind refused to help him. Max had barely
had the time needed for the words to sink in, when Ranma slowly stood
up, not meeting his gaze.
"I'm going for a walk," Ranma somberly exclaimed. "I need to
think."
The door closed behind the confused martial artist, and Max
released a shaky breath, slumping in his chair. His mind wandered
through his past, suddenly bringing forward the memory of a very similar
discussion, this one with his wayward son. Silently, he wished for
things to go differently this time around.
---
Breetai's cold eyes stared at the projecbeam image, as if daring
it to show something that didn't please him. The destroyer was slowly
approaching Zor's fortress, its amorphous form surrounded by swarms of
Battlepods. Soon, the battle would start.
In the mountainous commander's mind, images of the astounding
display of power he had witnessed in the trans-vid record were replayed
over and over again. That such a tiny being could wield that much energy
unaided was unexpected--but not entirely unpleasant. To find a worthy
enemy was a stroke of fortune every true Zentraedi hoped to receive, and
Breetai wasn't the exception.
The Zentraedi vessel closed on the SDF-1, weapons at the ready.
Responding to the threat with swiftness, the battle fortress
regurgitated its own mecha, which quickly swooped around to face the
incoming pods. A furious dogfight ensued, dozens of pods and Veritechs
erupting in flames at the same time. The rapid fire of the SDF-1's
batteries and gun turrets and the VFs' Gattling rounds met Zentraedi
energy blasts and laser bolts, and short-lived spherical explosions lit
the eternal night of deep space.
The Micronians hadn't fired the ship's main gun, Breetai noted to
his utter puzzlement. What reason could they possess to forsake their
most powerful weapon? Such incomprehensible behavior...
What would the Micronians come up with this time? Did they have
another ace to play? Breetai knew he would get answers for these
questions before the combat ended. He would see to it that it was so.
---
Young as he was, Jason knew immediately that something was very
wrong. He was also pretty sure it had nothing to do with the fact that
emergency alarms had gone off, or with that voice which was continuously
urging people to go to the nearest shelter. Nor, Jason was certain, was
that feeling of wrongness he was sensing in any way related to Rick, who
had been awakened just a few moments ago, either. No, it wasn't any of
those, it was something else. He looked speculatively at Minmei, but
wasn't able to find any sort of clue in her pretty face. The atmosphere
in the restaurant was so dense it could be cut with a knife, and Jason
idly gazed at his parents, who were quietly arguing next to him.
"But Max," Lena was saying, "we can't go without Ranma!"
'Ranma!' Jason thought excitedly. 'That's it, Ranma's missing!'
Max shook his head. "There's no way to find him right now; he
could be anywhere!"
"Yes," Lena admitted, "but we _must_ try, anyway. Besides," she
added with renewed enthusiasm, "you said he had gone for a walk. You
know he spends half his time in the park. I bet he's there!"
The park! He knew it very well; he had gone there many times,
most of them accompanied of Ranma himself. His sensei seemed to enjoy
visiting the park, despite the fact it was still rather barren, with
only a few trees and some isolated patches of grass. It was built over a
tower of equipment, though, and so enjoyed of a beautiful panoramic
vista of the entire city below.
Jason hadn't managed to understand why his sensei had such a
strong liking for both his tiny garden and the communal park yet. After
all, what was so special about them? He himself preferred the Arcade;
now _that_ was fun.
"There's no time," Max explained, and then added in a more
appeasing tone, "Don't worry, honey. You know Ranma can take care of
himself."
Jason caught his breath, not believing his ears. What? They were
going to leave Ranma alone during an alert? No, he could not permit it.
As Ranma always said, it was the duty of a martial artist to protect
those he cares about. If they weren't going to do anything, then he
would have to look for his sensei.
Stealthily moving towards the door, Jason gingerly opened it wide
enough for his little body to fit through. He slid past the narrow space
and, not bothering to close the door, simply sprinted up the street,
knowing he would reach the park in no time.
Ranma would be so proud.
---
Gloval picked himself up from the floor with an agility
unsuspected for a person his age. "What was that?" he barked at Lisa
while tilting his hat back.
The SDF-1's First Officer hastily returned to her station, also
having been knocked off her feet by the direct hit suffered by the
spaceship. "One of the reactor subcontrols has been damaged, Captain,
but it seems to be holding up," she said in a strained voice, studying
the engineering reports constantly appearing in her console.
Gloval was aware that the ship couldn't withstand the attack for
much longer. A new cannon bolt hit a nearby battery, and Gloval could
see through the forward viewport as the lifeless bodies of the gunners
floated away in the vacuum. Something snapped within him.
"That's enough! We're firing the main gun!" he yelled, enraged.
He ignored the collective gasp of his crew, his head inclined,
hands clasped behind his back.
---
The park was all but deserted, and Ranma was thankful for this. A
break to sort himself out, that's what he needed. There was something
unreal about the whole situation, about the park itself. Perhaps it was
the continuous, unnatural breeze that constantly ran through the closed
environment of the ship's vast insides, or the eerie metallic ceiling
that hung over the city. Perhaps it was the importance of the decision
he had to make.
How had he gotten involved in a war? He wasn't a fool. Becoming a
soldier meant having the _obligation_ of killing, the need of
considering the bigger picture and overlooking petty matter like remorse
or guilt; it meant obeying almost blindly, and accepting orders without
caring about his own opinion.
Oh, he had killed before, all right, but it had been so simple
when compared to this. With no time to think, to ponder on the
consequences of his acts, and with Akane's life at stake, there had
really been no choice... It was different now: he had to consciously
agree to become part of the war. There would be no excuses to ease his
pain with if he discovered the path he had followed was the wrong one.
Ranma absently recognized Lisa's voice reverberating through
Macross, but promptly ignored it. He had too many things in his head at
the moment to care about what that graceless old maid had to say. As
many times before, he let his gaze wander freely along the modern city
that lay at his feet, letting the familiar action to soothe his troubled
mind. His curiosity was aroused, however, when he noticed that the
traffic had stopped. Hundreds of people were venturing aimlessly through
the city, some of them yelling and screaming in fear. Finally, he was
able to focus in time to hear Lisa's last announcement: "Ten seconds to
modular transformation and counting."
'The transformation? They're actually going to do it? Uncle Henry
must've gone crazy!' The ground started to vibrate beneath him, and
Ranma tensed, wary.
"Ranma!" yelled someone behind him. He whirled around, and saw
Jason running towards where he stood.
The ground between them split apart, and Jason screamed.
---
When the countdown finished, the modular transformation began. In
a sort of synchronized turmoil, the entire ship reconfigured, changing
both its internal and external structure. All throughout the stupendous
spaceship, pylons and towers moved in response to their instructions.
The whirring of the powerful servomotors became deafening, as entire
parts of the ship rose or descended. Sections of the hull slid swiftly,
in a process so unbelievably complex, most people thought it impossible
and nearly suicidal--the work of a delusional mind.
In that instant, the SDF-1 was alive.
Meanwhile, Macross city suffered its second disaster in less than
a month. The gigantic hold used by the refugees to rebuild their town
was severely affected by the transformation, and death was everywhere.
Buildings filled with people were destroyed as the pylon they had been
constructed over rose and met the far-off ceiling, cars and pedestrians
alike were swallowed as the ground parted. Others died crushed by the
raining debris, while even more met their end as a momentary hole in the
hull's structure was opened and the air was sucked into the vacuum
outside, taking with it car, concrete blocks and dozens of people. In
moments, the city was destroyed anew.
---
The gap widened, and before he had time to fully realize what was
going on, Ranma felt himself descending. The part of the tower where he
was standing rapidly fell, following its programmed orders. Reacting
quickly, Ranma bolted toward the edge of the platform, and deftly jumped
up to the opposite pylon, where Jason's yells for help could still be
heard.
As Ranma hung in the air, the abyss beneath his feet, the pylon
rose unexpectedly. He twisted in mid-jump, then stretched his body, his
right hand reaching up in a desperate attempt to correct his trajectory.
Too fast, everything was happening too fast. In a moment of sheer
terror, he realized that, for all his effort, he wouldn't be able to
reach the edge of the ascending tower.
That didn't keep him from trying, though, and unwilling to
recognize his failure, Ranma extended his arm a little higher into the
air. Time slowed down, and Ranma was able to witness in that eternal
instant all his victories and fights, and knew he would do it. Somehow,
he would reach that tower, for Ranma Saotome never lost, not when it
really counted.
He was taken out of his trance when he felt his outstretched hand
touch something metallic. He immediately closed it, gripping the
protuberance with all of his considerable strength. Glancing up, he saw
he was grabbing what looked like some kind of a broken sprinkler system
pipe, and that it was just a few inches below the surface of the
mechanic mountain. Ranma extended his left hand and, now with both hands
with a firm hold on the cylinder, tried to get purchase with his legs in
the plain artificial wall. Finally, one of his feet found a small ledge,
which gave him more than enough leverage to pull himself up. He brought
one of his legs up and, pushing his body upwards with his arms, placed
it on the pipe. A jump took him to the soil-covered platform, and Ranma
didn't spare time to recover his breath before he rushed towards the
sobbing form of Jason, who sat on the ground with his knees against his
chest.
Ranma lifted him up, and, noting the rapidly-approaching ceiling,
scooped him in his arms. He allowed himself a second of frivolity, and
pondered on how he always ended up carrying people in his arms, but then
quickly dismissed the thought and ran to the edge of the cliff. Jason
gave a tiny squeal of fright when Ranma leapt down to the twin pylon far
below, but kept still, paralyzed by fear and surprise alike. Long ago
used to cushion falls, Ranma's feet touched the earth with awe-inspiring
softness, and the martial artist hurried to put Jason down.
He watched the devastated Macross that slowly rose to meet them,
saddened by the terrible spectacle. All that hard work, for nothing.
Ambulances and Civil Defense teams sped across the town, busily
attending at the thousands of injured. Ranma gazed down at Jason, who
was clutching at his shirt with both hands, still shaken by the
near-death experience. 'He could've been one of them,' Ranma thought.
'He could've died.'
Ranma felt anger rushing through his body, his face flushed and
fists clenched tightly. Gazing irately at the Civil Defense mecha, which
were wandering through Macross, helping as they could, he silently
cursed the Army. Without the fateful decision to go through the
transformation, none of these people would have died.
A moment later, his anger quickly deflated, as Ranma thought of
Uncle Henry and his bridge crew. He knew the old captain would never do
something like this willingly; his hand must have been forced by the
events. It wasn't his fault; the Zentraedi had begun a war, and seemed
determined to win it at any cost.
His anger finding a new target, Ranma considered the race of
gigantic warriors. The Zentraedi were ruthless, and very powerful. What
stopped them from attacking again and again, until the ship was
destroyed and Macross beyond rebuilding? What could hold them back?
Max's words came back to him: "To defend your loved ones." He
couldn't protect Jason as a civilian, nor Lena, nor Max. If he had to
become a soldier in order to defend those he cared about, then it was a
small price to pay. A choice was made.
"It's decided," Ranma yelled at the world, "I'll become a pilot!"
For a moment, the torn city seemed to quiet down, as if showing
its agreement. Ranma took Jason's small hand in his, and began the long
walk home.
---
To be continued...