Subject: [FFML] [Fanfic][R1/2][Fusion] Battletech: The Saotome Gambit Part 21
From: Jamie and Bridget Wilde
Date: 10/3/2000, 3:36 PM
To: ffml@fanfic.com

 

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-- File: The Saotome Gambit-21.txt

                           Kawaii City Starport
                      Kawaii City, Planet Genevieve
                  Martina System, the Federated Shiratori
                              30 April 3025



     Federated Shiratori Armed Forces Chief of Staff Mikado Sanzenin knew 
that something dreadful was afoot from the moment he and his latest paramour 
stepped off the DropShip. He was greeted with flowers for one thing, abundant 
bouquets, garlands, and wreaths of them. The silky petals of thousands of 
roses were showered over him and spread before his feet as he traversed the 
jetway from his personal spacecraft. 
     Accustomed as he was to the royal treatment as Chief of Staff, this was 
something altogether unusual and disturbing. It was the kind of reception 
that the Empress would receive, if she ever deigned to leave the planet for 
awhile - something he knew that Azusa was loathe to do. Like the Heian Period 
court at Kyoto a millenium before the discovery of Jump, Azusa and her fawning 
coterie of sycophants could not possibly imagine anything so vulgar as 
leaving the capitol for the dreary provinces of the Empire.
     The most disturbing thing about the entire reception was that no one 
would explain to him why they were treating him in this way. There were no 
officers in the Army present to question, only a few of the more strident 
leaders of the Cult of Azusa, and they were bound body, mind, and soul to 
their Empress. If they would not talk, it was because she had commanded that 
it be so, and that was yet another thing to be disturbed about.
     Mikado's unease at the situation was given another jolt as his staff 
limousine accelerated onto the elevated highway that led into the gingerbread 
splendor of Kawaii City. His image was everywhere, in some cases fluttering 
twenty meters tall on massive banners that hung from the graceful arcs of 
bridges and skyways, in other cases his glittering smile beamed from huge 
advertising displays on the sides of skyscrapers. Posters and pennants 
with his regal visage were everywhere. His name flashed across public-info 
tickers and drifted through the sky on the sides of blimps. The citizens of 
the city waved and cheered to him as he sped through the city towards the 
palace.
     As his limousine approached a fantasy castle with its delicate spires, 
gilded onion domes, dramatic palisades, sweeping arches, and candied minarets 
that would have made a Bavarian king weep, he realized why he was being 
greeted with such pomp. Flowing from standards projecting from the castle's 
outer keep were two figures in wedding attire. One was of the Empress, 
looking vapid and blissful, the other was of Mikado Sanzenin.
     He choked on his martini at the sight of them.

___________________________________________________________________________
           J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:

                     BATTLETECH: THE SAOTOME GAMBIT
                            PART TWENTY-ONE

                           by J. Austin Wilde
                       Safety Control Rod Axe Man,
                           Fission Park Press
                          wildeman@gci-net.com
                 http://www.gci-net.com/users/w/wildeman/


            The characters and situations of Ranma 1/2 are the 
               creation and property of Rumiko Takahashi and 
            Shogakukan/KITTY/Viz Video. Battletech and its 
             related materials are the property of FASA, inc.
               No infringement of copyright is intended nor 
              should be inferred by this work of fanfiction.
___________________________________________________________________________

                               Chapter One

                           The Hotel Promenade
                       Outboard Ring, Oyama Station
                 Orbiting the Planet Nerima, Capella System
                        The Nerima Confederation
                              27 April 3025



     "Ah, Nabiki Tendo," Tetsuo Gosunkugi said, rising to greet her. "It's 
good to see you again. I regret the fact that we didn't get the chance to 
speak to each other after the summit."
     Nabiki regarded him for a moment before responding. Tetsuo was as 
weedy and glad-handed as she remembered him to be. The dark circles under 
his eyes were something of a trademark with the Gosunkugi family, and made 
it difficult for her to judge if he was as exhausted as he appeared to be.
     "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you," she returned.
     In the last minute negotiations upon her arrival at the space station, 
Tetsuo had agreed to meet with them in a small conference room reserved for 
the hotel's guests. Nabiki noted the spartan furnishings; limited to four 
chairs, a small table, some tasteful artwork prints on the sound-proofed 
walls, and a sideboard with a selection of light refreshments. She also 
noted the man in the nondescrept business suit who stood several paces 
behind Tetsuo, obviously the League Ambassador's bodyguard.
     Tetsuo made a small gesture to Rolf. 
     "I don't believe we've met," he added, an invitation to Nabiki to 
explain the young noble's presence.
     "Rolf Thuringia," Rolf introduced himself before Nabiki could reply. 
"A pleasure, your Excellency."
     "Rolf's with me," Nabiki added thinly, her voice barely containing 
her contempt. "He's promised to keep his mouth shut," she added, as much 
for Rolf's benefit as Tetsuo's.
     Tetsuo looked Rolf over for a moment, as if to satisfy himself that 
this was possible. "Shall we get started, then?" 
     Nabiki took a seat across the table from him. Rolf chose to stand, 
remaining behind her as if matching Tetsuo's own bodyguard. Tetsuo noted 
this and gave a brief smile of relief. 
     "I'm not exactly clear on the reasons why you chose to meet me in 
orbit," Tetsuo opened. "There is such a furtive air about this meeting, 
it's almost as if you have something to hide. In fact, your insistence 
that this meeting be conducted with such secrecy has me rather concerned."
     Nabiki leaned forward in her seat. As expected, Tetsuo was suspicious. 
There was little reason at this point for her to add to his reservations. 
     "My reasons are simple enough," she replied. "If you haven't discovered 
it already, let me enlighten you on the matter of my personal disposition." 
She paused for effect. "My plenipotentiary powers have been suspended."
     Tetsuo nodded slowly. Nabiki couldn't tell if it was because he 
suspected as much, or that he already knew, and wanted to see how candid 
she would be in the matter.
     "If that's true, then why am I wasting my time talking to you?" he 
asked. His thin and reedy voice had a rhetorical quality to it.
     It seemed to Nabiki that Tetsuo was not in possession of all the facts 
regarding the current political situation on Nerima. She sat back in her 
seat, trying not to show her relief. His ignorance meant that she still 
had a few cards in her hand to play.
     "My father is insane," she replied coolly. "Certifiable. He's convinced 
that he can defeat the Furinkan Combine, and anyone who doesn't share that 
view ends up stripped of their authority. I'm sure you can agree with my 
assessment of him after the disastrous conclusion to the summit."
     Tetsuo pursed his lips in thought. Nabiki could almost visualize the 
gears turning in his head as he mulled this over. 
     "I had thought he'd done something rather rash with that," he said, 
nodding. "Promising your younger sister to an unknown mechwarrior was 
really throwing it in Prince Kuno's face."
     "He's cracked, I'm telling you," Nabiki put in.
     "So who is this Ranma Saotome, anyway?"
     "No one of consequence," Nabiki replied, her tone guarded. Tetsuo did 
not need to know about Ryuugenzawa, even if it was a fairy tale. There was 
no need to make the situation any more complicated by bringing it up.
     "Let's get back to my question then," Tetsuo said, though whether he 
was satisfied with this answer was not immediately clear. "Why am I here 
talking to you, if you're on the outs with your father, and have no power 
to negotiate with the League of Five Nails?"
     "Because you won't get anywhere with him," she responded calmly. 
"You're lucky that he even let you into the system." She folded her hands 
together. "As for me, well, it's only a matter of time before his dementia 
becomes too much for even his most devoted supporters to ignore. Someone 
will have to step in at that point..."
     Tetsuo inclined his head to her in understanding. "I see," he grunted. 
His eyes flicked over her as if discovering a new side to her personality, 
one that he had not expected. "I never figured you for the throne, Nabiki 
Tendo. It seems to me that you'd rather stand behind it."
     "You are partially correct," she replied with a silky smile. "If it 
means preserving the family's wealth, I'll take my turn on Nerima's throne, 
but the Confederation isn't something I look forward to ruling for long."
She gave him a coy wink. "You wouldn't happen to know someone who might be 
interested in a tired old Successor State, would you?"
     Tetsuo flushed with surprise. It was clear by his reaction that he 
hadn't imagined that she would be so forward with the League after setting 
herself up so cozily with the Combine at the summit. 
     "Perhaps we can come to an arrangement that would be mutually beneficial 
to our two countries," he declared after a moment's consideration. "I just 
happen to have a powerful bargaining chip against the Furinkan Combine that 
you might be interested in."
     Nabiki allowed herself a moment of measured silence before responding.
     "I'm all ears, Excellency."
     Tetsuo looked about the small conference room self-consciously. Nabiki 
took his gesture as an indication that he feared spies or listening devices, 
which meant that he had not taken such an option for himself.
     "This must be kept in the strictest confidence," he began. 
     "Of course," Nabiki agreed.
     Tetsuo looked around again before facing her. "My cousin, Hikaru, 
has sent me to Nerima to propose a strategic alliance against the Furinkan 
Combine," he began, carefully assessing Nabiki's reaction to this. She 
remained poker-faced. "You will note our good faith in our timely warning 
of Prince Kuno's would-be surprise attack from the Capra System, and in 
our efforts to draw him away from the Capella System."
     Nabiki nodded in agreement. "I was wondering what your angle was in 
that regard," she replied. It was as she had feared, Hikaru Gosunkugi wanted 
an alliance. 
     "Then you are receptive to this?" Tetsuo asked, perhaps a little too 
eagerly for a diplomat of his rank.
     She waved in abnegation. "Slow down, your Excellency," she cautioned 
him. "First I want to hear what you have to offer the Confederation."
     "Our promise of military support is not enough?" Tetsuo asked with the 
proper amount of indignation. 
     "I'm looking for something more concrete than promises," she returned 
crisply. "You mentioned a bargaining chip a moment ago. I don't think that 
was made idly."
     Tetsuo took a sip of water before answering her.
     "If you aren't receptive to my proposal, perhaps I should take this 
matter to the Grand Duke," he sniffed.
     Nabiki reined in the sudden flash of temper incurred by his threat. 
He was probably only bluffing, testing her to see how she would react. 
It was a reminder to her that while he was no Domitian, Tetsuo was an 
experienced horse-trader, and he knew how the game of diplomacy was 
played. 
     The slight narrowing of her eyes was the only outward indication of 
how close she had come to exploding in Tetsuo's face.
     "Excellency, I would caution against such a move," she replied in a 
chilly voice. "You would not be dealing with a stable man, but a lunatic." 
She gave him a warning look. "Furthermore, his remaining tenure as the 
ruler of the Confederation is likely to be cut short. The future rests 
with me, your Excellency. You would do well to remember that."
     Tetsuo seemed suitably chastened. 
     "Very well, Nabiki Tendo. In the interest of brevity, I'll come to 
the heart of my proposal. In exchange for a permanent strategic alliance 
with the League of Five Nails, among other concessions to be discussed, 
I am prepared to turn custody of a very important hostage over to the 
House of Tendo."
     Nabiki's mind raced with the implications of that declaration. His 
choice of principals, namely the House of Tendo over Nerima Confederation, 
implied that this hostage was also of noble or royal blood. Ordinarily, 
this would mean a Gosunkugi hostage would be sent to the Confederation to 
ensure that the League honored its commitments. But Tetsuo had also said 
that this hostage would be a powerful bargaining chip against the Combine. 
     It could only mean one thing...
     "You have a Furinkan Combine hostage?" she asked him.
     Tetsuo nodded.
     "Someone whose well-being Prince Kuno would have to consider?"
     Tetsuo nodded again, a cheshire cat grin slowly spreading across his 
face.
     Nabiki's curiosity was growing. She was loathe to make any deals with 
the League of Five Nails, and adamant against her father doing the same, but 
she needed to know all of the variables at work within and against her plot.
     "Who?"
     Tetsuo leaned in close. 
     "We captured the Shogun of the Furinkan Combine on New Hawaii during 
our raid of the Alpha Centauri System," he replied evenly.
     "You what?" It was beyond belief that the League could get so lucky, 
or that the ruler of the Furinkan Combine, even a fruitcake like Shogun 
Kuno, could be so careless.
     "He's in the hotel," Tetsuo added. "You can't imagine how happy you 
will make me if you take him off my hands."
     Nabiki's jaw dropped open in disbelief. Tetsuo was supposed to be more 
careful than this. What the hell was going on? 
     "You brought him here?" she hissed. "He's in the hotel? THIS hotel?"
     "I'm prepared to offer him up right now as a further sign of our good 
faith," Tetsuo added. "My cousin Hikaru would prefer that our alliance be 
cemented with a marriage to your sister, Akane Tendo, as I'm sure you can 
understand."
     Nabiki could not believe this was happening to her. Taking custody of 
the Shogun would give the people of the Confederation exactly what she 
didn't want them to have: hope. She knew that it wouldn't matter in the 
long run that the League would assist them, or that Kuno might accept a 
cease fire in exchange for his father's return. The Furinkan Combine would 
break any cease fire as soon as practical - especially if Akane were to be 
promised to Hikaru Gosunkugi - and the League could barely defend itself, 
much less continue coming to the Confederation's aid. She knew all of that, 
but she doubted that the war-weary people of the Confederation would be 
willing to look that far ahead.
     The only thing she knew for certain was that Tetsuo could not under 
any circumstances come into contact with her father. Not with this kind of 
offer to make.
     "Of course," she began to say, but the words died in her throat as 
Rolf lunged over the table at Tetsuo, a long stiletto with a hilt of gold 
and mother-of-pearl inlay plunging soundlessly into the League Ambassador's 
chest.
     Tetsuo's bodyguard was caught as flat-footed by this act as Nabiki, 
and fumbled for a moment with the pistol in his coat pocket as Rolf pushed 
off from the table to do the same. Tetsuo looked dumbly down at the dagger 
which protruded from his chest, the hilt throbbing from the expanding stain 
of red on his shirt in time to the terrified beat of his heart.
     "Rolf, what the fu--?" Nabiki choked out as the bodyguard drew his 
suppressed automatic and fired. 
     She watched Rolf take the bullet in the side of his chest as the sharp 
hiss of a laser beam scythed from a derringer in the palm of his hand. The 
beam struck the bodyguard square in the nose, and carved a centimeter wide 
channel straight up his face to neatly bisect the top half of his skull. 
The bodyguard made a few wet noises, then pitched over to the floor, his 
brain oozing from the charnel canyon of his burned cranium and into a lumpy 
pinkish-grey puddle on the carpet.
     Rolf crumpled to the carpet himself, a bloody hand clutching at his 
own gunshot wound. The stench of melted hair and cooked brains mingled 
with the tang of ozone from the laser and the hot, acrid smell of burnt 
gunpowder. 
     "Rolf?!" Nabiki screeched. "Why the FUCK did you...?"
     He looked up at her, his eyes glazed with pain. "He was going to 
wreck your plan," he gritted out. "OUR plan," he amended. He tried to 
stand, and found that he didn't quite have the strength. 
     "What are you talking about?" She was close to hysteria, having 
never witnessed such an explosion of violence and death firsthand.
     "Turning the Shogun over to the Confederation," Rolf replied. He 
tried once more to stand, and managed to pull himself up to the table. 
Nabiki could see the small ragged hole in his back, and the gleaming 
blue-white fragments of living bone from his shattered shoulder blade 
that dripped with the freely running blood and bits of cartilage out 
of the exit wound. "It'll ruin everything," he continued. "You know 
that. I saw it in your eyes." 
     He steadied himself, drawing a panting gasp of breath. She could 
see that he was in intense pain, pain that was most likely due to his 
collapsed left lung.
     "Goddamn, this hurts," he wheezed. He gestured with his free hand 
towards Tetsuo, whom Nabiki realized was still alive. "At least *he* 
doesn't feel very much..."
     Something snapped back into place in Nabiki's shattered mind, and 
she pulled her cell phone out of her purse.
     "I could use some help," Rolf agreed, noting the phone.
     She whirled on him. "It's not for you, you stupid bastard!" she 
screamed at him. "It's for him! Don't you realize what you've done!?"
     She could tell by the confused look in his eyes that he didn't.
     "Don't waste your time," he muttered with great weariness. "The blade 
is poisoned."
     At this Tetsuo made a whimpering noise, the first sound he had made 
since before he had been stabbed. His gaze fell once more to the dagger 
which pulsed weaker and weaker in his chest.
     "I'm surprised he's still conscious," Rolf added, his voice slurring.
"It's supposed to paralyze you as it works. That close to the heart, he 
should be..." He began to lose his grip on the table, and toppled over onto 
his bottom in a sitting posture, looking like a drunk who can't remember 
where he is or how he got there.
     Nabiki looked back to Tetsuo as Rolf hit the floor, and watched with 
horror as the League Ambassador's eyes began to glaze over. The dagger's 
motions became fluttering and erratic, and she knew the end was close. 
     Tetsuo Gosunkugi managed one last gasp of breath, his eyes dull and 
wide with disbelief, and then he was dead.
     A thin scream issued from deep within Nabiki's throat. It was a sound 
that mirrored Tetsuo's own disbelief at his murder, modulated with equal 
parts of rage and grief. She didn't even realize that she was doing it, and 
looked around frantically for the source of the hellish noise.
     "A little help here," Rolf said raggedly.
     She ignored Rolf's feeble pleas for assistance, lost in hopelessness 
and despair. How had it all come to this? While her intentions had never 
been exactly trey-nine pure, she had been sincere in her desire to end the 
death and destruction of the Succession Wars. All of her plotting, all of 
her machinations, they had brought only failure and death. Tetsuo and his 
bodyguard were just the latest casualties in a war that seemed to be 
spiraling further and further out of control. There would be others. Many 
others.
     She found herself drawn towards Rolf's gold-plated derringer. The tiny 
weapon glittered on the carpet, promising a swift, almost silent end to her 
life. It was in her hand before she realized it, the laser surprisingly 
heavy for something so small. 
     Suicide was something she had scoffed at once, an act of borne of 
cowardice more than anything else she could say about it. As she clutched 
the derringer tight and put the cold, polished quartz focusing lens of 
the muzzle against her breast - and right over her fluttering heart - she 
understood that it was possible for some good to come from the act. At 
least this way, she wouldn't be around to fuck anything else up. If more 
people died, she rationalized, at least it wouldn't be *her* fault.
     She squeezed the firing stud.
     "The thing's only good for one shot," Rolf informed her, spitting up 
a clot of dark, sticky blood.
     The sound of his voice brought her back once more to reality. She was 
not dead. The derringer was depleted of its charge as Rolf had claimed. 
Anger controlled her now, but it was a cold and calculating rage. What the 
hell were you thinking!? she railed at herself. This isn't over yet. Not 
yet, dammit!
     She wiped carefully at the weapon, knowing that it would require a 
more professional treatment to remove all traces of her from its surface. 
She let the laser fall to the carpet where she had seized it, then moved 
to the body of the recently departed Tetsuo Gosunkugi and turned out his 
pockets. There was only one way to salvage the situation, and that was to 
take the Shogun by force and hide him away, before his presence on the 
station became public knowledge. 
     When she had taken what she needed from Tetsuo's pockets, and replaced 
the rest, she dialed the number of her most important connection on Oyama 
Station. She needed men, competent men who didn't ask questions and were 
paid in cash up front, and she needed them now, while she still had the 
time and the freedom to act.
     She could hear Rolf moaning now, his voice getting weaker, and his 
words punctuated by wet choking coughs. She watched him for several minutes 
while she waited for the first of her agents on Oyama to answer her most 
urgent summons, her eyes burning with contempt and loathing for him. In one 
irreversable act of stupidity, he may have cost her absolutely everything. 
     One thing was for certain, she observed as Rolf slowly expired on the 
carpet, her bitter relationship with Daddy was going to the next level. 
There was no point in playing games with him anymore. It was time to act, 
and to act decisively.
     The stench of death was growing stronger in the room. She wanted to 
leave - was desperately fearful of being discovered - but at the same time 
she could not take the chance that Rolf's life could be saved. As far as 
she was concerned, she had never come to this room; Rolf Thuringia was a 
deranged young man who had arranged the meeting with the Ambassador on false 
pretexts of diplomacy in order to assassinate him, and had himself been 
killed in the process. It would take a lot of grease, and just the right 
massaging of the facts, but she could make it stick long enough to 
accomplish her objectives.
     She hated Rolf. She had never hated anyone with such an intensity, and 
yet she could not bring herself to finish him off. It wouldn't have required 
much effort, he was close to suffocating in his own blood anyway, but she 
couldn't bring herself to even touch him.
     His eyes opened, his breathing slow and labored, and he turned his 
head up to face her. She regarded him with a boreal intensity as he opened 
his mouth to speak, and instead fell into a fit of choking coughs that laid 
him out flat on the carpet, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling.
     She leaned over him as he lost his agonal struggle.
     "You were the worst sex of my life, Rolf." 
     He almost seemed to nod in agreement as his taut body relaxed in death.



                              Chapter Two

                 Nerima Confederation DropShop _Palomino_
               In transfer orbit above the planet Genevieve
                  Martina System, the Federated Shiratori
                              3 May 3025



     "Hey, Pop," Ranma called to his father, who paced soundlessly in 'Mech 
Bay One. "We're almost to the planet. Are you ready for this?"
     Genma looked his son over for a moment.
     "You're awfully eager about this expedition all of a sudden," he 
observed. 
     Ranma shrugged. "We only need one more decrypt key," he replied. "The 
faster we get it and leave, the better."
     "That's all, huh, boy?" Genma grunted.
     "Pretty much," Ranma agreed with another shrug.
     Genma pushed his glasses up from the tip of his nose. "I think there's 
more to it than that."
     "What are you talking about?"
     Genma gave his son a stern look. "Face it, boy. She's got you whipped."
     Ranma cocked his head in a questioning look.
     "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked in a surly voice.
     "Do I have to spell it out for you, boy?" Genma returned, his voice 
taking on the stentorian quality that he reserved for reproaching his son. 
"You've betrayed your father and your family name, and all for a woman!" he 
railed angrily. 
     "What?!" Ranma cried in response.
     Shifting gears, Genma took on an expression of long suffering, his 
voice cracking with emotion. "O, the misery of it!" he wailed. "Where did I 
go wrong? My son... My son is... is... pussy-whipped!"
     Ranma's face flushed beet red, though whether this was out of anger or 
embarrassment was not clear.
     "No way!" he choked out. "I never...!"
     Genma threw up an arm to his brow in despair. "That's the worst part!" 
he returned miserably. "If you were actually sleeping with her, I might be 
able to forgive you - but you aren't even doing that! She's got you wrapped 
around her little finger, turning you against me, ME, your own flesh and 
blood!"
     He fished in his pocket, eyes still averted in shame, and threw a pile 
of coins at Ranma's feet. Ranma, too angry and confused to make more than 
spluttering noises of protest, stooped to examine one of the coins. It was 
a gaming token - absolutely worthless where they were.
     "Your thirty pieces of silver," Genma explained solemnly.
     Ranma threw the coin down on the deck.
     "Dammit, Old Man!" he snarled. "When are you gonna start making some 
sense?!"
     Genma put away the theatrics and faced his son gravely.
     "Ranma, you've shamed your family by accepting a commission with the 
Confederation. For centuries the Saotomes have been independent mechwarriors, 
at least until you came along. All it took was a little fluttering of Akane 
Tendo's eyelashes to flush all of that proud tradition down the toilet."
     He continued before Ranma could offer up protest. "Not only that, but 
by accepting her commission, you're supporting her decision to replace me 
as the commander of the mission." He began to tremble with despair. "How 
could you, boy? I'm your father!"
     Ranma looked him over. "So that's why you've been off sulking this 
whole time," he realized.
     Genma looked away, insulted at the idea that he should be sulking at 
anything.
     "Don't sweat it, Pop," Ranma added uneasily. "She already said that 
this was temporary."
     "And you'd believe her, wouldn't you?" Genma returned snidely. 
     "Well, yeah," Ranma agreed. "She's got no reason to lie about it."
     "So naive," Genma clucked. "I guess that's your mother talking."
     Ranma gave his father a dirty look for even mentioning his mother 
at a time like this. He decided to call it quits for now. 
     "You're hopeless, Pop."
     Still, the idea that he was somehow wrapped around Akane's finger, 
however ridiculous that sounded, troubled him. No girl should have that 
kind of power over a guy.
     We'll just see how "whipped" I am! he thought to himself.



                           *       *       *

                          The Imperial Palace
                              3 May 3025



     Federated Shiratori Armed Forces Chief of Staff Mikado Sanzenin faced 
a choice: he could marry Empress Azusa and become her royal consort, or he 
could flee the Federated Shiratori. Neither choice seemed very palatable 
to him. To flee would mean giving up his rank and privilege to become a 
common mercenary; an abhorrent thought to a man who had draped himself in 
the mantle of so much political and military power. On the other hand, the 
thought of marrying Azusa Shiratori utterly repulsed him.
     He despised his Empress as the spoiled rotten and vacuous little girl 
that she was. To even imagine the idea of sitting at her right hand and 
enduring her mindless prattle and her fawning, empty-headed Court made him 
break out in a cold sweat. The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Azusa 
brought forth waves of nausea, much less the act of consummating their union.
     What could he do? He was screwed.
     The most infuriating aspect of this affair was that she hadn't even 
asked him to marry her. She had simply started the wedding process without 
him, before he even arrived in the system. All that was expected of him was 
to show up. 
     He poured himself another drink, something he had done a lot of since 
his arrival. There had to be a way for him to derive some kind of advantage 
from his situation. Becoming a mercenary offered the advantage of freedom, 
but promised nothing but hard times and hard work. Mikado had a particular 
aversion to both of these things.
     Marrying Azusa at least conferred a special status upon him. Though he 
would be named only as the Imperial Consort, it was possible that he could 
have a more direct hand in the policies of the Federated Shiratori...
     He snorted laughter at this. Since when had he ever cared about the 
Federated Shiratori? His overriding passion was the loving of women. Could 
he still do that as a consort?
     It wasn't like he was bound by the moral prohibition against adultery. 
Mikado particularly enjoyed making love to married women for the forbidden 
thrill it gave him to have sex with another man's wife. It certainly 
wouldn't matter to him that he was the one doing the cheating. 
     There was also the fact that he would have access to a whole slew of 
beautiful women - who were most likely rock-stupid and therefore easy marks 
for his charm - in Azusa's Court. If he grew tired of Azusa, and he knew it 
wouldn't take long, he was still the Chief of Staff, and would need to leave 
the system on inspection tours and such. 
     That idea began to take hold with him. It offered all of the advantages 
of marrying Azusa, such as they were, and few of the disadvantages. Was it 
his fault that his official duties always kept him from his 'beloved' wife? 
He chuckled a little too loudly at this, and poured himself yet another 
drink.
     He settled back into his chair, and wondered what else he could expect 
to go wrong today. What he did not expect was Ukyou Kuonji and her adjutant 
Major Konatsu arriving in his chambers unannounced.
     "What are you two doing here?!" he demanded. The booze and the stress 
of his predicament were not doing his normally cool temperament any favors.
     Ukyou saluted. "Pardon the intrusion, General," she began, and her smug 
look immediately began to grate on Mikado's nerves. "I wanted to offer my 
formal congratulations on your engagement."
     Her obviously false hail-fellow-well-met enthusiasm triggered a storm 
of brain activity within Mikado's head, and he rose unsteadily to his feet. 
     "This is all YOUR fault, isn't it, Kuonji!" he shouted at her. This is 
where she had gone to! She had put Azusa up to this! "This whole engagement 
smells of your meddling!"
     Ukyou's smile melted away. She had never seen him drunk before, and 
certainly not belligerently drunk. 
     "I don't know what you're talking about," she returned. "Sir."
     "Don't bullshit me, Kuonji!" Mikado thundered. He was really starting 
to feel his blood boiling now. "You've hated my guts for years."
     She matched his hard stare. "You're drunk, General."
     Mikado sloshed his martini at her in the process of waving a fist. 
"So what if I am?" he leered. Then, with remarkable control and poise, he 
brushed back his hair with a smile, his teeth gleaming preternaturally in 
the indoor lighting. "I've still got it where it counts."
     Ukyou couldn't help but be a little impressed by his display. It was 
no wonder why most girls flocked to his bed.
     "Sir, I should let you get back to your work," she said coolly. 
Konatsu began to bow for him.
     "Hold it right there," Mikado ordered them. He advanced upon them 
both with a manic gleam in his eye. Despite his obvious intoxication, he 
practically glided across the carpet towards them, his charisma radiating 
forth in waves.
     In spite of herself, Ukyou held fast. Konatsu followed her lead.
     Mikado took the former kunoichi's white gloved hand and kissed it 
with great warmth and ardor, his soft eyes held gently with those of 
Konatsu. The adjutant blushed furiously, and turned away in shy defense 
against the Chief of Staff's magnetism.
     He turned to Ukyou next, who stood stock still under his luminous 
gaze. 
     "I'll never forget the first day I laid eyes on you, Ukyou," he said, 
his voice deep and melodious. She quivered in spite of herself, and tried 
to remember that he was not only roaring drunk but an insincere womanizer.
     His hand came up to raise her chin to him, the contact fleeting and 
causing an electric thrill to course through her. Her muscles locked up, 
prventing her from escaping. With gentle ease his hand caressed her cheek 
as he locked those deadly eyes into her own brilliant green orbs. For her 
it was like staring into the eyes of a cobra; entrancing, mystifying, and 
very dangerous. She was transfixed by him, unable to resist his next move 
even though her mind was screaming warnings at her.
     His lips touched hers, teasing at first, and then pressing firmly 
into contact, kissing her deeply and sweetly. Konatsu made strangled 
noises at her side that went unnoticed by either of them for a very long 
time.
     Mikado finally broke from the kiss. His soft eyes flashed into slate 
grey slabs of diamond hard battlemech armor.
     "I'll destroy you if it's the last thing I do," he growled at her, 
his voice filled with hatred, and breaking the spell that was over her. 
"Remember that, Kuonji. You've made me even more powerful than I ever was 
before." 
     She stumbled backwards, stunned and humiliated by the ease with which 
he had manipulated her. Konatsu drew her away towards the door before she 
could come to her senses and let her anger take over. For this offense, 
she would most certainly kill Mikado, and in so doing, incur the Empress' 
undying wrath.
     He watched them both go and roared laughter, throwing his martini 
glass against the wall. It didn't matter that his life was about to become 
a living hell, so long as he was able to share that experience with the 
woman who had done this to him.
     "I'll consider it my wedding present to myself," he declared aloud.



                           *       *       *



     "Are you all right, sir?"
     Ukyou shook the cobwebs from her head.
     "How do you feel?" Konatsu pressed.
     "Disgusted," she spat out, still not believing that Mikado Sanzenin 
had kissed her, and that she had enjoyed it!
     "The General has a certain effect on people," Konatsu said, sensing 
her self-loathing for being taken so easily by his seduction. "You 
shouldn't let it get to you."
     "Easy for you to say, sugar," she growled. "You weren't in lip-lock 
with him." She wiped vigorously at her mouth, wishing she were close to her 
quarters so she could brush her teeth. "To think I was coming to gloat!" she 
lamented. 
     It was worse knowing that if Konatsu hadn't been there, Mikado might 
have been tempted to bed her on the spot. Wouldn't that have been sweet 
revenge for him! She shuddered at the thought, and resolved to keep a little 
more distance from the Chief of Staff in the future. Like a few hundred light-
years if she could help it...
     "Shall we go to the starport, sir?"
     "Yes, Konatsu," she replied. "I think I'd very much like to get away 
from the palace for awhile."
     


                           *       *       *

                  Kawaii City Starport, Quarantine Zone



     "Where the heck is she?" Ranma asked. Ukyou had left word for them 
through the Starport Authority that she would meet them when they arrived 
on Genevieve. It had been three hours since their arrival, and there was 
still no sign of her.
     "I think you're putting too much faith in her," Akane sniffed. 
     "Now what's that supposed to mean?"
     Akane narrowed her eyes at him.
     "You haven't seen her in ten years, and now all of a sudden she's 
going to go out of her way to help us steal something from the Empress' 
Collection?"
     Ranma shrugged. "Yeah. Why not?"
     "Forget I mentioned it," she said, glowering at him. 
     "Whatever."
     He jumped up from the bench seat where he sat, and started towards 
the Customs gate. They had been waiting for Ucchan inside the Quarantine 
Zone of the starport, an area of neutrality where the system's import laws 
were not enforced. People and freight could not leave the zone without 
submitting to an inspection by the Customs personnel.
     "Where are you going?" Akane asked him.
     "I have no idea," he returned, not looking back. "But I thought I'd 
take a look around instead of sitting here taking crap from you."
     Akane had only been miffed at him before. Now she was angry.
     "And how exactly have I been giving you 'crap'?"
     He stopped a few paces short of the turnstile that led to the 
inspection point. "You've got something against Ucchan," he began. "I 
don't know what it is that's got you so uptight any time her name gets 
mentioned, but every time you dig on her, it's like you're insulting me 
for having anything to do with her."
     Akane was stunned by accuracy of his accusations. She looked away 
from him uneasily.
     "I'm right, aren't I," he observed smugly. 
     "Maybe," she conceded.
     Ranma walked back over to her. "You wanna tell me what's going on that 
has you so uptight about her?"
     She looked at him with accusing eyes. "I don't like the way you let 
her fall all over you for one thing... It's not becoming of an officer of 
the Confederation... And I'm not 'uptight' about it, as you so eloquently 
out it."
     It took Ranma a moment to understand what she was getting at. When 
he did, his eyes lit up. "Are you... jealous?"
     "Puh-lease..." she snorted contemptuously. 
     He wouldn't let it go. "You are, aren't you! 'Not becoming of an 
officer of the Confederation...' What kind of lame-o remark is that? If 
you're jealous 'cause of Ucchan, don't be, okay? How many times do I gotta 
say this? She's a friend. Nothing more."
     "You might feel that way, but does she?" she countered. "I don't think 
you should be encouraging her like this."
     The issue of Ucchan's shows of affection towards him, and her actual 
motivations behind them, was one he had been reluctant to cover in any sort 
of detail. The truth was that with her timely departure from Tiber, he had 
been able to sweep all thoughts of their 'engagement' under the rug of his 
subconscious.
     "I still think you're jealous," he said at length.
     "Jerk." 
     Ranma grinned at her. So much for being 'whipped,' huh, Pop? "Man, 
it's worse than I thought."
     Akane's cheeks flushed. "Ranma, I don't care about it, okay?" Her tone 
suggested otherwise. "Can we just drop it?"
     He caught the warning tone in her voice, and decided to ease up, at 
least a little. "Sure. Consider it dropped." He snapped a peppy salute in 
her direction. "Yes, ma'am!"
     Akane's expression shifted from one of exasperation to profound dismay.
     "Is that all you think this is, Ranma? Some kind of game between us?"
     The look on her face when he gave his mocking salute made him feel 
lower than snail snot.
     "I'm sorry," was about all he could think to say.

     "Hiya, Ranchan!" a voice called. "Sorry it took so long." 
     Even if he hadn't recognized the voice as Ucchan's, the look of dread 
on Akane's face would have been all he needed to make the ID.
     "Hiya, Ucchan," he replied, turning in time to receive a kiss on the 
cheek from her that went a hair's breadth beyond 'friendly.' He could almost 
feel the daggers shooting into his back from Akane's eyes. Strangely enough, 
he thought, Ucchan's cute-looking adjutant didn't seem to be taking it any 
better than Akane.
     "I had some things to do at the palace that kinda got out of hand," 
Ukyou continued. She brushed her uniform jacket lapel uncomfortably at the 
thought of her encounter with Mikado. "But enough about that." She bowed 
briefly in deference to Akane. "I realize that we haven't really gotten off 
on the right foot together, Akane, but I want you to know that I'm here to 
help you and Ranchan get what you needed."
     Akane rose and took Ukyou's offered hand. Ranma could see lines of 
tension in both of their faces as they shook hands in a business-like 
manner.
     "As long as you understand that Captain Saotome has other commitments 
to keep at the end of this encounter, I see no reason why we can't be 
friends," she replied.
     Ukyou blinked away the discomfort at Akane's impersonal greeting, as 
well as at her implied possession of Ranma. Captain Saotome? Oh, Ranma-honey, 
what did she make you do while I was away?
     "Right," she returned. "Absolutely." Whatever, sugar...
     "So what's up?" Ranma asked her hastily, eager to defuse any further 
conflicts between the two before they arose. "You get everything squared 
with the Empress?"
     Ukyou gave him a friendly smile. "Yes and no," she replied. "You see, 
I've sort of become involved with the Empress' wedding plans while I was 
here. I haven't had a chance to talk to her about diplomatic duty." 
     "No kidding?" Ranma said. "Azusa's getting married?"
     "To who?" Akane asked. Even she wanted to know the name of the person 
stupid enough to want such a thing.
     Ukyou gave them a sly smile.
     "Ah, well, you remember, Ranchan, when I said I was having problems 
with my job?"
     "Yeah."
     "You see, Chief of Staff Sanzenin was my biggest problem. So I, well, 
recommended him as a candidate for marriage to the Empress. Azusa thought it 
was a great idea." She had to stifle a laugh, and even Konatsu's cool demeanor 
wavered towards mirth for a moment.
     Ranma guffawed. "Way to go, Ucchan!"
     She bowed proudly to imaginary applause. "It took care of the one 
problem, and it might help you with yours as well."
     "Oh?" Akane asked her.
     "Yup," Ukyou returned. "I can get you onto the palace grounds as invited 
guests at the wedding. It's in two days. It will probably be your best and 
only chance to get onto the grounds, and it will be nice and legit." 
     "Whoa," Ranma gushed. "Really? I mean, how did you get so much pull? 
I'da thought the Cult people would be calling all the shots for something 
like this."
     Ukyou blushed. "Well, it's not all wine and roses. Her Imperial Divinity 
wants me to be her Maid of Honor. That's one of the reasons why I've been so 
busy. The Cult's been doing most of the leg-work - heck, they've been planning 
this wedding for a year even without knowing who the 'lucky' guy was going to 
be. I'm just the bag-girl for the last minute stuff."
     In spite of herself, Akane was pleased by this turn of events. Getting 
onto the palace grounds legally would be a huge advantage over trying to 
breach the external security, and with a wedding going on, it would be easy 
to move in the crowds without being noticed.
     "I'm impressed," she agreed.
     "Thanks," Ukyou returned. "Look, I really hate to leave just as soon as 
I got here, but I have to meet with the Empress again very soon. Can I set a 
up a dinner date with you, and we can go over this?"
     "Akane and I would love that," Ranma said quickly for the two of them. 
The fist that clenched at the Confederation Heir's side relaxed.
     Ukyou nodded, oblivious to how close she had come to setting off a 
firestorm with Akane. Her intention really had been to invite the two of them.
"Great! If you give me the number Pier Services set up for your ship, I'll 
have Konatsu phone you later with the details. Ta for now!"
     She blew Ranma a kiss, and spun on her heels for the Customs Gate.




                           *       *       *

                              Kawaii City



     "Somehow, I don't think this was what Ucchan had in mind," Ranma 
observed, as the seven of them walked along the painfully-cheerful sidewalks 
of Kawaii City from the parking garage to the restaurant where Konatsu had 
made the reservations. The festive air of the city on the eve of Azusa's 
wedding was reaching a fever pitch, with street vendors hawking every 
manner of souvenir and trinket to commemorate the event. The banners and 
flags featuring General Sanzenin and the Empress were everywhere.
     It was late summer on Genevieve, the air was warm and muggy, and dark 
clouds fought with the setting sun to dampen the gingerbread splendor of the 
city.
     "Major Konatsu said we could bring a few friends," Akane remarked, 
a little overwhelmed by the city's saccharine charm. She preferred the 
stately architecture of Gondolin over the fairy-tale hyperbole of the 
Empress' capitol.
     Ranma looked at Ryouga and Akari, his father, the brooding Pansuto 
Tarou, and the always-friendly Doctor Tofu.
     "Ryouga, Akari, the Doc, and even Tarou I can understand, considering 
his inside knowledge of where we need to go," he said to her. "But bringing 
Pop along is probably like pouring gasoline on a fire."
     "Stow it, boy," Genma growled. "Wild horses couldn't keep me away from 
something as important as this."
     Ranma winced at his father's pun. "Ha ha. Fine. Whatever. The first 
sign that you and Ucchan are gonna go at it hammer and tongs over something, 
you're outta there, okay?"
     "I've put the whole thing behind me," Genma replied sourly. "If she 
can't do the same, then that's her problem."
     "All the same, Mister Saotome," Doctor Tofu added. "It might be best 
if you kept a low profile."
     Genma grumbled something incoherent in reply. The seven of them 
continued on.
     "You've been pretty quiet this whole time, Ryouga," Ranma observed. 
"What's up?"
     Ryouga blinked several times as if coming out of a trance, which, 
considering the fact that he was holding Akari's hand as they walked, 
probably wasn't far from the truth. 
     "I'm just hoping that it won't rain," he remarked finally.
     "Aw, come on," Ranma said, pointing up to the sky. "It's going to have 
to get darker than that."
     A distant rumble of thunder punctuated his statement.
     "All the same," he continued nervously. "Let's get inside, quick." 
He inclined his head towards Tarou and his father. "The last thing the 
people of this city need to see are two giant... whatever you ares..."
     "And not a cross-dressing freak?" Tarou added snidely. He sipped at 
a can of iced tea purchased from one of the most obnoxiously cute vending 
machines any of them had ever seen.
     Ryouga looked ghostly pale with horror at the idea that someone 
would add the mention of a certain little black pig, but Tarou seemed to 
take Ranma's cue, and held his tongue.
     "Hey, at least I'm *human,*" Ranma returned. 
     Tarou splashed the tea in Ranma's face.
     "Why, so you are!" he laughed arrogantly. "A fem-boy, but human."
     Ranma wiped at the tea in her eyes. "You just asked for a one-way 
ticket to the Hurt Locker..." she menaced.
     "Ranma, stop it!" Akane snapped. She cast an angry look at Tarou. 
"And you!" she barked. "You're supposed to be showing us good faith. If 
this kind of disruptive behavior is what I can expect of you, then you 
give me no choice but to break off our agreement." She looked up into his 
cold unyielding eyes. "I may not be in any position to clap you back in 
irons, Tarou, but I still have your battlemech. Remember that."
     Tarou bristled, his muscles twitching, ready to spring. The looks 
on the faces of the two Saotomes, of Hibiki, and even Doctor Tofu, told 
him that they would not hesitate in their response. More effective 
against him than their implied threat, however, was the fact that a 
confrontation now would ruin his chances of discovering the location of 
the Ryuugenzawa System.
     "I remember," he said to her evenly. Then to Ranma. "I apologize."
     Ranma didn't look like he was going to accept.
     "Knock it off, boy," Genma admonished his son. "He apologized 
already."
     "So?"
     "Keep your focus on the mission," Genma said to him.
     Ranma snorted. "Apology accepted," he grunted. "This time."
     "Might I, ah, suggest that we get inside?" Ryouga added sheepishly. 
The sky seemed to be getting darker, and the street vendors were starting 
to pack up their wares against the approaching summer thunderstorm.



     Ukyou looked up from her notes on the wedding at a nudge from Konatsu. 
Akane she recognized, and Doctor Tofu, and especially Ranma's less than 
welcome father, but the rest of their party were total mysteries.
     "Where's Ranchan?" she asked Akane, who stifled a laugh.
     "I'm right here," Ranma replied, brushing idly at her mandarin blouse.
     Ukyou goggled at the buxom redhead wearing Ranma's clothes. She had 
Ranma's pretty blue-grey eyes, and her hair ended in a pigtail like Ranma's, 
but that was where the resemblance ended, in her opinion.
     "What the hell--?"
     Ranma blushed. "Remember that long story I mentioned the day you left 
Tiber?"
     She vaguely remembered something along those lines. Like why he was 
all wet when he came down the ramp of his ship...
     "Sort of," she hedged. The others made themselves comfortable at the 
remaining chairs, and a tiny part of her that maintained her reserve of 
sanity made a note to request a larger table from the management.
     "Well, this is it," Ranma finished. "Don't ask how, don't ask why, 
just believe me when I say that I am the same Ranma Saotome you saw this 
afternoon at the starport. I just change into a girl when I get wet."
     Ukyou blinked several times in disbelief. "I don't understand." She 
gave a desperate, questioning look to Akane, who nodded solemnly.
     "You don't want to know what Pop turns into when he gets wet," Ranma 
added.
     "I assume then," she said haltingly, "that there is a way to reverse 
this effect?"
     "Hot water," Ranma, Genma, Akane, Ryouga, Akari, Doctor Tofu, and Tarou 
all replied in chorus.
     This is too weird, Ukyou thought frantically.
     "I-I guess it would be easier if I just accepted it, wouldn't it," she 
remarked, her voice quavering.
     "Trust me," Akane agreed with her. "It is."
     "So..." Ukyou said slowly, to keep the conversation going. "When did 
this happen?"
     Ranma did the math. "About four and a half months ago."
     "Never mind all that," Genma said to them. "We have more important 
matters to discuss. The boy here says you can help us get what we need on 
this planet. Is that true?"
     Ukyou nodded slowly, a little amused by the fact that Genma Saotome 
continued to refer to the obviously female Ranma as his 'son.'
     "I can," she replied. 
     "Let me handle this," Akane broke in. Genma shot her a grumpy look, 
but complied. "What exactly can you do to help us?"
     Ukyou weighed the implications of their exchange, such as, who was 
really in charge here, Genma or Akane?  "Well," she began. "I can get you 
four invitations to the wedding. That should get you onto the palace grounds 
with a minimum of fuss, since the invitations are naturally for exclusive 
guests of the Empress and Her court. 
     "I can also draw out for you a basic floorplan of the, ah, place, along 
with the details of the security arrangements. I'm not sure exactly what you 
have in mind to do, so I'll leave that up to you."
     She didn't get much further than that, because of the sudden uproar at 
the front of the restaurant. Konatsu got up to take a closer look, but by 
the excited cries from the staff and patrons, she began to get a sinking 
feeling.
     "Ukyou-dear!" the voice of Azusa the First, Goddess-Empress of the 
Federated Shiratori, cried out to the open air.
     "Shit!" Ukyou spat out under her breath. "What in blazes is she *doing* 
here!?"
     Tarou excused himself abruptly and headed for the kitchen.
     "Ukyou-dear!" Azusa cried again. The restaurant manager quickly pointed 
her out. 
     Before anyone else could make their escape, Azusa and her entourage had 
them surrounded. Ranma had never seen so many beautiful looking idiots in her 
entire life.
     "Bow, you nitwits," Ukyou hissed at all of them.
     They all stood and bowed low for Azusa as she approached the table, a 
distraught expression on her otherwise fatuous face.
     "Ukyou-dear!" she wailed. "You simply *must* help Azusa-chan!"
     Ukyou cringed. Whatever could possibly bring the Goddess-Empress of the 
Federated Shiratori to *her,* instead of the other way around?! The pleading 
look on her Empress' face answered at least part of her question. In the past 
week she had become more than an advisor to Azusa, she had become a confidant, 
even something of a friend. The normal barriers between the Empress and her 
subjects had come down where Ukyou Kuonji was concerned. She had to respect 
the trust with which Azusa had granted her.
     "Yes, your Majesty! Anything!" she replied. 
     Azusa sat down in Genma's chair, the elder Saotome being jerked away 
from it without hesitation by Ranma and Akane when the Empress glanced around 
for an empty seat.
     "Azusa simply cannot find enough bridesmaids!" she wailed, a sound so 
whiney, pathetic, and frighteningly intense that Ranma jumped at the sound 
of it. "Azusa-chan absolutely MUST have twenty-five bridesmaids, or else 
Azusa-chan's wedding is RUINED!"
     Her entourage clucked sympathy for their Empress. Ranma tried not to 
gag.
     "I-I don't understand," Ukyou cried. "I thought that was all worked 
out? We had everyone selected and their gowns fitted and everything."
     Azusa made an incoherent whimpering sound.
     "NO NO NO!" she cried out. There was an element of rage in her voice. 
Terrible rage. Ukyou wondered what the hell had gone wrong. "Three of them 
are so... so... *POOPY* that Azusa refuses to have them as Her bridesmaids!"
She sniffled loudly. "Oh, what is Azusa-chan to doooo...?!"
     Ukyou bit down on her lip, reeling with disbelief. This whole mess 
smelled rotten, and she suspected that at least one petty rivalry within 
Azusa's court had brought this disaster to pass. Who could say how three 
handpicked bridesmaids had been discredited so close to the wedding?
     "Ukyou-dear!" Azusa wailed once more. "You must help Azusa-chan!"
There was no mistaking the hard edge in her Empress' voice. If she didn't 
think of something, and soon, more heads were going to roll - perhaps even 
literally. Azusa could get downright homicidal in moods like these, and 
no one in the Cult was going to refuse her.
     "Your Majesty, I have a solution," she began, knowing that she was 
about to get in over her head. WAY over her head...
     "You do?!" Azusa spluttered, her lower lip trembling expectantly.
     Ukyou gestured to Ranma, Akane, and Akari. The third girl she didn't 
know from Eve, but those pink streamers of hair running from her temples 
were exactly the kind of thing the Empress went to pieces over.
     "Your Majesty, allow me to introduce three very intimate friends of 
mine from the, ah, Palatine System; Ranma, Akane, and..." She shot an 
intense look at Akari, who blurted out her name by reflex. She then made 
a subtle cutting gesture at the other two before they could protest, just 
in case they were stupid enough to try it in front of Azusa.
     Azusa looked them over, Ranma first, who smiled back vacantly, turning 
pale with hastily-suppressed horror and shock. 
     "Oooo!" Azusa squealed, tugging happily at Ranma's pigtail. "How cute!"
     She turned next to Akane, who by dint of nineteen years as a daughter 
of Grand Duke Tendo, curtsied with poignant grace. 
     It was Akari's pink streaks of hair that settled the matter.
     "They're PERFECT!" Azusa squealed. "They absolutely *MUST* be Azusa-
chan's bridesmaids!" She kissed Ukyou's cheek. "Ukyou-dear, whatEVER would 
Azusa do without you?"
     Oh, I don't know... Ukyou thought darkly to herself. Hopefully fall 
off a cliff or something...
     Empress Azusa, convinced that all was once more right with the world, 
skipped away without so much as a 'good evening,' leaving her entourage to 
scamper off after her. Ukyou caught a few dark looks from recently acquired 
rivals among them as they left, and she knew that no matter what, she had 
to get out of the system after the wedding. She enjoyed untouchable favor 
now, but with powerful members of the Cult slowly dripping poison into 
Azusa's ears, it could not last. Her fall would be hard indeed.



     Only when the Empress and her sycophants were long gone, and the 
envious looks from the restaurant's patrons had given way to a return to 
normalcy, did Ranma and the others dare speak.
     "What did you just do, Ucchan?" Ranma growled with surprising ferocity 
at her. Akane could only seethe. Akari and the others gaped in shock.
     "I just did you a huge favor," she returned, the wheels turning in 
her head. 
     "How's that again?" Ranma shot back. "You just volunteered me to 
be one of her bridesmaids!" she hissed. "ME! I'm a guy! I ain't wearing no 
stinkin' bridesmaid dress!"
     "First of all," Ukyou hissed back. "No bridesmaids, no wedding. No 
wedding, and you guys just lost your best chance to break in and get that 
stupid key. Second of all, you are all now, by royal decree, *trusted* 
members of her court. If you *do* get into a compromising situation, at 
least you'll have *some* leverage to get out of it. Third, now I can 
get more of your group into the palace without a fuss, since I've just 
freed up three of the four invitations..." 
     She blew out a sigh that lifted her bangs. "Look, I was kinda on the 
spot there, in case you hadn't noticed. You simply don't understand how 
dangerous she can get when she's in these kinds of moods."
     "Ukyou's right, boy," Genma muttered.
     "Pop!" Ranma protested. "How can you say that?"
     "Focus on the mission, boy," his father returned. "What's more 
important, getting that last crypto key, or your macho pride?"
     She clenched her fists tight.
     "I can't believe this," she said between clenched teeth.
     "Okay," Akane said to Ukyou. "I don't like this, but I see your point. 
We can work this to our advantage."
     Akari nodded. "It might even be a little fun," she said softly.
     "Fun," Ranma snorted.
     "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," Ryouga barked at him. "We have a 
lot of work to do between now and..."
     "The day after tomorrow," Ukyou supplied. "You're right, we don't have 
a lot of time. I have to get the three of you fitted for gowns and shoes, 
get hairdresser appointments, accessories, makeovers, the list goes on and 
on."
     "Allow me, sir," Konatsu demurred.
     "Thanks, honey," Ukyou said to her adjutant. "I wasn't going to ask, 
but..."
     "But you have far too much to do already," the former kunoichi finished 
for her. "I understand, sir."
     "I'm glad someone does," Ranma harrumphed. She got up from the table. 
"I'm gonna go look for Tarou. After what he told us about his connection 
to this place, I don't blame him for wanting to split when he saw who was 
coming." 
     "I don't know about the rest of you," Tofu added. "But I think we had 
better take this planning session somewhere else." He gestured about to the 
patrons and staff who continued to chatter about them.
     Ukyou saw the doctor's point.
     "Agreed. How about going back to your ship?" she asked Akane. "It's 
probably the most secure place going on this planet."
     "Fine," she said, nodding. It was going to be an interesting working 
relationship with her rival, she decided. Her only misgivings lay in Ukyou's 
supposed altruism, which she didn't buy for an instant. What was she going 
to want for all of this so-called cooperation?



                              Chapter Three

                       Bridesmaids' Dressing Rooms
                           The Imperial Palace
                               6 May 3025



     "I can't believe that I'm actually wearing this," Ranma groused. She 
was dressed in a frilly peach colored gown of taffeta, silk, and lace that 
dripped with gold beads and seed pearls. Her shoes were too tight, her boobs 
hurt because the gown didn't give them any support, and her crimson hair was 
piled up into an extravagant coiffure that was glossy with hairspray. Akari, 
similarly dressed and coiffed, was helping her with the final touches to her 
wealth of satin ribbon bows.
     "You look cute," Akane teased her. Her own gown was a little too tight 
in the hips for comfort, but given how little time they had available for 
fitting prior to the wedding, she supposed it was a minor inconvenience. 
It could have been much worse.
     Ranma shot her a dirty look. "Right now, 'cute' is the last thing I 
feel like looking." The fact that they had spritzed her with perfume was 
not helping her mood.
     Ukyou stepped into the dressing room, her own gown swishing sibilantly 
at her feet. In addition to the skillful application of makeup from Konatsu, 
the skin on her face, throat, shoulders, and arms was lightly dusted with a 
touch of glitter, as per the wishes of the Empress for her Maid of Honor. She 
stopped short upon beholding Ranma in her bridesmaid attire, still not used 
to the fact that her beloved's gender was subject to change with a little 
cold water.
     "Twenty minutes until showtime," she announced to the assembled party. 
She turned then to address Akane specifically. "How's Ranma-honey holding 
up?"
     Akane rolled her eyes in Ranma's direction. "He'll make it," she replied. 
"I think."
     "How do you girls walk in these stupid things?" she complained, trying 
to mince about without breaking her ankles. "No one can see our feet in these 
dresses, so why can't I wear my black slippers instead?"
     "At least he'll be at the end of the dais," Ukyou observed, ignoring 
Ranma's question for the preposterous thing it was. Men! "Konatsu and I will 
be right up by the altar, in the middle of the action."
     Ranma nodded sullenly. She was to be the last of Azusa's twenty-five 
bridesmaids, which would put her near the very edge of the cathedral and 
practically out of sight with the audience's attention focused on the bride 
and groom. 
     The plan was for her to slip out of the ceremony and into one of the 
chapels located in the transepts set to either side of the cathedral's nave, 
and from there doff her gown and join up with Tarou. Then they'd hit the 
Collection of Cute while everyone was busy with the wedding.
     It was supposed to be simple, but Ranma knew better. 
     "I can hack it," she told the assembled women. "So when do we have to 
be in place?"
     "Ten minutes," Ukyou replied. "That will give us just enough time to 
get there." She gave them a vacant smile, having been practicing for the 
sake of the moment. "Shall we?"
     Ranma nodded once more, cringing at how easily Ucchan could emulate the 
vacuous followers of the Cult of Azusa. She felt butterflies in the pit of 
her stomach, putting them down to the pre-mission jitters and not the fact 
that most of the planet would soon be seeing her in a dress.



                           *       *       *



     The file of Bridesmaids stretched and snaked from the entrance of the 
cathedral proper to the entrance of the nave. Ranma craned her neck around 
the mill of press, well-wishers, and hangers-on, to see a line of tall, 
tuxedo-clad Groomsmen standing opposite them. The rustle of so much lace, 
frill, and starched linen was a sound unto its own in the close confines, 
forcing everyone to speak just a little louder to be heard. There were so 
many people present with no apparent justification for being there, that 
Ranma wondered how necessary the security passes Ukyou had obtained for 
them really were. 
     She could see Ukyou standing pensively near the entrance with the Best 
Man. The Groom's carriage would arrive first, and he would await his bride 
just outside the cathedral. Once they were together, the groomsmen would 
escort their opposites among the bridesmaids down the central aisle two-by-
two, until at last General Sanzenin and Empress Azusa followed, arm in arm, 
with their flower girls and ringbearers and other personal retainers. She 
heard the other bridesmaids whispering about how long and extravagant 
Azusa's bridal train was, and how many girls it took to tend the thing. 
All Ranma knew was that as the last bridesmaid, she would be the first to 
walk down the aisle.
     She cast Akane and Akari furtive looks. They were chatting together 
about other weddings they had attended, what the bride wore, the reception, 
and crap like that. For a couple of girls who didn't know either the bride 
or the groom, they seemed to be awfully into this wedding. She wondered if 
it was just one of those things that made girls different from boys.
     A cheer was raised outside the cathedral, where most of the castle's 
population was watching from the inner keep and from the balconies and 
windows of nearby towers and minarets. Ranma watched as General Mikado 
Sanzenin, resplendent in his ceremonial full dress uniform with cape, 
gloves, plumed tri-corner hat, knee-high boots and brilliantly polished 
sabre, strode proudly up the steps of the cathedral with his honor guard, 
waving to the crowds as he awaited his bride.
     He did not wait long. Azusa's carriage was drawn by twenty-four white 
stallions, each bedecked in shimmering gold and mirrored tack and harness.
The carriage itself was something out of a fantasy movie; all baroque 
curves and sweeping lines, the pale exotic hardwoods handrubbed with rare 
scented oils. Gold and platinum-iridium trimming, dripping with Russian-cut 
faceted beads of leaded-crystal, blazed with the faerie light of thousands 
of tiny solid-state lasers. Hussars on white destriers with checquered red 
and gold tabards, and white baldrics festooned with medals and decorations 
draped across their chests, clutched long lances tipped with pennants 
of the Shiratori white and gold, their naked dress sabres glittering in 
their wide black belts. Their horses were specially shod with flint 
inserts that flashed and sparked on the cobblestones as they cantered 
proudly to the cathedral, and a hundred silver bells on their saddles, 
reins, and stirrups jingled merrily in the afternoon sunlight.
     In the courtyard beyond, battlemechs in pristine condition stood at 
attention, the ones with hands carrying enormous battle-standards that 
snapped and fluttered in the breeze. A flyby of aerospace fighters was 
planned for after the ceremony, she had heard mentioned.
     Ranma watched all this with equal parts curiosity and distress. Was 
all this pomp really necessary? If she did end up marrying Akane someday, 
their wedding might end up looking very similar to this one. It was enough 
to gag a maggot.
     The carriage doors were opened by the footmen, and an older gentleman 
dressed in a Federated Shiratori Army uniform stepped out. He turned and 
offered his hand to the Empress, who stepped with forced grace upon the red 
carpet that led to the cathedral. Ranma could see that her difficulty was 
caused by the enormous pile of white lace stacked up behind her in the 
carriage. As she and the older man - who was obviously a relative of hers 
by his resemblance to the Empress - walked, the bridal train unfurled from 
within the carriage. A flock of young girls waiting in the wings of the 
procession appeared a few at a time to tend the monstrous swath of white 
as it spilled from the carriage. Ranma watched in disbelief as the thing 
only finished issuing from the carriage when Azusa had mounted the steps 
of the cathedral, a distance of some thirty meters!
     The Empress was in white, layers upon shining layers of it, silk and 
satin in a luxuriant brocade bodice and skirt exquisitely embroidered with 
lilies, clouds, and doves in platinum thread, and inset with seed pearls, 
quarter-carat diamonds, and tiny silver hearts. Her veil was set with a 
cloissone enamel comb studded with diamonds and topazes, inlaid with lapis 
lazuli, and trimmed with laser-etched gold. Her golden brown hair fell in 
plaited waves from her temples to her waist beneath gauzy layers of lace. 
What Ranma marvelled at the most about her were her eyes, which were as blue 
as cornflowers, and as vacant and huge as saucers.
     The older officer graciously handed Azusa over to Mikado at the top 
of the steps. He bowed for the general, and then withdrew to the side. 
Mikado whispered something to Azusa, who brought a shy hand to her lips 
before waving excitedly to her worshipful subjects. Mikado waved once more 
as well, and then they turned to enter the cathedral.
     That was their cue, Ranma realized. The music had already started, 
supplemented with a hundred voices from the Imperial Choir. 
     Ranma minced up to the center of the foyer as her escort held out his 
arm for her. She accepted it with a forced smile, noting that the man's 
infuriating pretty-boy looks could give Tarou a run for his money. The 
man led her gracefully towards the open doors of the cathedral nave and 
the crowd of thousands who waited within. Akari joined up with her escort 
several paces behind them, she noted with one last backwards glance. Akane 
offered up a teasing wink.
     She remained tense in her escort's arm as they walked with stately 
precision towards the altar at the far end of the cathedral. In that moment, 
in the arm of a man, she felt as if it would take a week to get there. It 
did not help that her father, along with Doctor Tofu, Happousai, and Ryouga, 
had managed to find seating along the center aisle. 
     The urge to smack her father upside the head as he made faces at her 
was difficult to quell. Doctor Tofu's bemused smile was only a little 
better. Ryouga, fortunately for the sake of his continuing existence, was 
too busy staring in awe at Akari several paces behind, and Happousai had 
already reached some kind of pretty-girl overload, and merely watched the 
procession with wistful, dewy eyes.
     At last they reached the altar. They bowed briefly, then she and her 
escort went their separate ways to the ends of the dais. Akari followed 
several seconds behind, then Akane. Both gave her tiny smiles and then 
resumed their required eyes-front positions, bouquets clutched to their 
breasts.
     As the Wedding March began to swell from the high vaulted ceilings it 
was time for Azusa and Mikado to walk down the aisle together. The first 
glimpse she got of the two was when they stepped up onto the dais to receive 
the benediction. Azusa's train extended more than halfway down the center 
aisle, she imagined. 
     Ukyou and Konatsu stood near the Empress' side, both looking radiantly 
happy, which Ranma supposed was normal for Ucchan, being a girl and all, but 
downright weird for her adjutant. As Ukyou was still getting used to the 
Jusenkyo Effect, so Ranma was having a hard time adjusting to the idea that 
Konatsu, the girl who had been so helpful in getting her squared away as 
a bridesmaid, was really a GUY beneath the long hair, makeup, and the pretty 
dress!
     And people think *I'm* a freak! 
     It promised to be a long service. She hoped it would. 
     "Are you ready, fem-boy?" a voice hissed at her side.
     Her eyes narrowed to slits as she regarded Pansuto Tarou. Who was a 
_bishonen_ guy like him to talk about being a 'fem-boy'? The mercenary 
mechwarrior was dressed in a white tie and jacket cut short bolero-style in 
the front, and full-backed with tails behind. A broad white sash trimmed 
with gold thread wrapped his trim abdomen, and Ranma could make out the 
thin silhouette of a stiletto tucked within, above the left hip. White 
trousers with a high waist to complement the bolero jacket and white shoes 
buffed to a shine completed the outfit. 
     "That depends, monster-boy," she returned, remembering Ryouga's 
unflattering sobriquet for him. "Are you?"
     Tarou snorted with contempt. "I'll be waiting."
     He slipped into the transept, which had been cordoned off from the 
cathedral nave with a large hanging tapestry. Few observers paid him any 
mind, their attentions fixed upon the wedding of their beloved Empress.
     She cast a glance towards Akane, who seemed to be waiting for her to 
make a move. As the assembly was beckoned to be seated, she ducked 
purposefully beneath the tapestry, and into the transept. Tarou stood near 
a door leading off from the small candle-lit chapel, a kit bag in his hand. 
The sound of the priest's voice echoed over the cathedral's sound system 
beyond the tapestry. No one had followed her to see what was the matter.
     The first thing Ranma did was take off her shoes, setting them beneath 
one of the pews near the candles. She'd go barefoot for this heist before 
trying any kind of physical activity on those blasted heels.
     "There's a storage room through here," Tarou informed her. "We can get 
changed there before we proceed."
     "Did you bring the hot water?" 
     "What for?" Tarou asked. "You're going to have to change back into a 
girl anyway when we finish."
     Ranma bristled, but decided not to push the issue. There were no 
guarantees that they could pull this off in time for the closing 
processional.
     The storage room was clean, indicating that it was used frequently. 
That was good in that their clothes wouldn't get dirty sitting there, but 
it raised the slight possibility that someone might come along and discover 
them. Tarou began to strip off his white tuxedo as Ranma fumbled with the 
zipper in back of her gown. 
     Gods, I hope no one walks in on us right now, Ranma thought darkly as 
they undressed. This would be difficult to explain... 
     Tarou undressed first, and slipped into a stretchy black bodysuit of 
synthetic weave. 
     "Didn't remember the bra, eh, Saotome?" he asked her.
     Ranma self-consciously covered her bare breasts. "Even if I wanted to 
wear one, which I don't, they wouldn't let me. Something about the bra-lines 
showing through the dress."
     "A pity," the _bishonen_ mechwarrior grunted with mock sympathy.
     "Eyes front, jerk," Ranma growled back. "Just because I happen to be 
a girl right now doesn't mean that I want to swing the other way."
     Tarou flipped her a matching black bodysuit. It was sized for her, 
meaning that he had never intended to bring the hot water. Ranma put it on, 
glad for the support it gave her sore breasts. Maybe there was something 
good to be said about bras after all.
     A winding stairwell stretched up from the storage room to a service 
landing that allowed access to the cathedral's ceiling for cleaning and 
maintenance. They would need to make their way across that access. From 
there, they could gain access to the cathedral's spire.
     "Is this the way you escaped?" Ranma asked Tarou.
     "Don't be an idiot," Tarou retorted. "Why would I have taken such a 
convoluted way out of the tower? The only reason we're going this way is 
because our access to the palace was limited to the cathedral for the 
Empress' wedding."
     "I was just askin'," Ranma grunted. "You seem to know your way around 
here pretty well, is all."
     Tarou laughed bitterly. "This planet is my homeworld," he replied. 
The door to the service catwalk opened, letting the sound of the wedding 
ceremony roll into the landing. "I still remember what they used to call 
this world, before the Empress changed everything to suit her whims."
     "Oh yeah?" Ranma chirped "Do tell."
     "New Avalon," Tarou replied. "My family were part of the nobility here."
     "I can see that," she agreed. "You've got the snotty noble attitude 
in spades."
     Tarou ignored the remark with a soft curse, and stepped out onto the 
catwalk. Fortunately for them, the television cameras the networks had set 
up to cover the wedding were all controlled by remote, meaning that there 
was no one to encounter as they crossed. 
     "Our mechwarrior family at first supported the Empress and the Cult of 
Azusa," he continued. His voice was barely audible over the blaring from the 
speakers, and collective sounds of the huge audience below. Ranma spied Ukyou 
casting a questing look towards the ceiling for them, and waved.
     "Go on," she pressed, when Tarou paused in irritation at her antics.
     "So I used to come to the castle with my family a lot when I was 
little," the _bishonen_ mechwarrior continued. "I came to know the place 
very well."
     His voice drifted off as they scuttled across the catwalk.
     "Then Azusa got you," Ranma observed.
     "It wasn't her, per se," Tarou corrected. "It was the Cult." He opened 
the far access door and slipped through. "Azusa merely remarked on how 'cute' 
I looked once. Then one day during a visit, I was taken by two of them from 
my parents before they could leave the castle, gift-wrapped, and sent to her 
tower."
     Ranma grimaced at the image conjured up by Tarou's words.
     "She was surprised at first to see me," Tarou continued, his voice 
growing heavy with emotion. "But she quickly got used to the idea of having 
me around. I was better than a pet, you see. I could talk. I could play with 
her - at least, in as much as I was a toy." He shuddered at the memory of 
things Azusa had made him do and say.
     "You let this happen to you?" Ranma asked in disbelief.
     Tarou gave a bitter grunt. "I didn't have a choice," he replied. They 
were at the stairwell leading up to the spire. "The caretakers were all 
Cultists, people who thought that giving Azusa everything she desired was 
the most important thing they could do in the entire universe. There was no 
right or wrong for those people. They would say or do anything to make their 
Empress happy.
     "To keep me in line, they threatened to have bad things happen to my 
parents. I was just a child, and having seen what they had done to me, and 
how easily it had happened, I believed them. I played along, thinking I was 
protecting my family. I was proud of myself for enduring."
     "So then what?" Ranma asked as they climbed the endless series of steps.
     Tarou looked away for a moment. "One day I received a message from one 
of the servants whose devotion to Azusa wasn't as strong as the Cult believed. 
She said that my parents had been stripped of their titles and property for 
demanding that the Cult return their son. My father escaped the system with 
the family 'mech to join the counterrevolutionary movement, and my mother and 
some of my cousins were imprisoned for his treason. She died there, six months 
after I was taken. Poison is what I was told, but no one knew if she was 
murdered or had committed suicide."
     Guilt crept up within Ranma for giving Tarou a hard time.
     "So I escaped," he went on. "There was nothing holding me there any more. 
Not after five years of hell. Once I was free of the castle, I took a chance 
and visited some old friends of my family. They were smarter than my own kin, 
deciding that it was better not to make any waves. They were able to smuggle 
me out of the system to rejoin my father. I didn't, of course, since he had 
died in the sporadic fighting during the first two years of Azusa's reign, 
but the family's 'mech was still there, being held for me or someone else in 
my family who might yet escape. 
     "By the time I claimed my family's 'mech, it was too late to overthrow 
the Cult. I became a mercenary instead. Three years ago I met up with Hibiki, 
and the two of us became partners of a sort."
     He stopped near the top of the spire. "So now you know my tale of woe. 
Repeat it to anyone, and I'll cut your heart out."
     Ranma brushed him aside. "Relax," she returned, eyeing him warily. "So 
you're doing all this for us out of some kind of revenge against the Empress?"
     Tarou's countenance darkened. "I have my reasons. One of them is to 
honor the bargain I struck with Lady Akane. The rest are my own business." 
His fists clenched tight for a moment before he continued, as if coming to a 
decision within himself that he did not happily embrace. "And as for the 
Empress... No matter what she did to me or put me through, I know that it 
wasn't her fault. She's a spoiled little child, Saotome. A child who doesn't 
know any better... Can you really hold her accountable for wrongs she can't 
possibly realize she has committed?"
     "I guess not," Ranma replied.
     "No," he said, mostly to himself. "You cannot."
     He reached into the kit bag and withdrew a pistol. Protruding from 
the muzzle was an expanding hook tied to a coil of thin-gauge aramyd-weave 
line.
     "It's a bit overly dramatic, I know," he offered. "But no one will be 
looking up at us if we cross over to the donjon proper from the cathedral."
     He leaned out of the spire's window to look around. Ranma watched the 
huge bronze bells above them for a indication that they might begin to toll. 
The numerous signs printed on the walls warned of what happened to people 
without proper hearing protection when the bells started ringing.
     Tarou took aim and fired. The pistol made a coughing sound, and the 
grapnel dug into hard stone. He pulled taut on the line with the pistol, 
then detached the spool from the pistol and carefully anchored it to the 
spire with a contact adhesive. The line was barely visible to them from 
where they stood. Ranma doubted that anyone on the ground could see it at 
all.
     Tarou then produced hoods, gloves, and calf-length soleskins for their 
feet. 
     "Aramyd weave," he declared, handing Ranma a set. "Don't touch that 
line with anything other than this stuff unless you want to experience the 
joy of becoming a traumatic amputee."
     "I've worked with this type of gear before," Ranma grunted, pulling 
the hood over her head. Her hair was going to look like hell after she took 
it off, she noted ruefully, but a splash of bright red color was bound to 
attract unwanted attention. Once they were fully clad, the two of them 
resembled ninja. "You first or me?"
     "You," Tarou said. "You don't weigh as much."
     Nothing the two of them could do would cause the line itself to part, 
but there were no guarantees with the grapnel or the adhesive base on the 
spool. By all rights, both ends should be able to support their weight. 
She hoped.
     Ranma sighed and took a deep breath. She let it out slowly to cleanse 
herself before checking that the line was still secure. She then pulled 
herself out onto the line, hanging by her hands and crossed ankles. It was 
easy going with a gently rising grade that would pay off handsomely on the 
return trip if they were in a hurry.
     She was on the roof of the castle within minutes. The various minarets, 
domes, and towers that gave the structure its fantastic look were easily 
accessible to two motivated and well-equipped burglars like she and Tarou. 
It was almost laughable that her years spent as a Scout had better prepared 
her for this moment than all of her battlemech and aerospace combat training 
combined. Akane's admonition that she no longer steal for personal gain came 
back to her. 
     This wasn't just for herself, she knew. This was for the Confederation. 
For Akane. And no, she wasn't "whipped," as her father put it. She was doing 
this because it was the right thing to do!
     Tarou followed, the line and its two anchors holding steady under his 
weight. When he was across, he unslung the kit bag, and handed Ranma a small 
pouch with her tools and gear.
     Azusa's tower was naturally the tallest. It was also centrally located, 
projecting up out of the lower six levels of the castle, and festooned with 
carved stone creatures out of mythology who perched at various points from 
the structure like leering gargoyles. It would be an easy climb if their 
first method of entry failed, but it would increase the chances that they 
would be noticed.
     "At least we won't have to worry about most of the security alarms 
during daylight," Ranma replied. She had spied several video camera arrays 
mounted on the roof, but for the most part, they were directed down at the 
vast courtyard. They could avoid the others, and even if they missed one, 
she knew from experience that few camera displays were manned by an attentive 
operator.
     "They've changed a few things," Tarou noted. "There weren't so many 
cameras up here before."
     "Knee-jerk reaction to your escape," Ranma returned. "They didn't plan 
them out very well, or they'd have some pointing up instead of down towards 
the courtyard."
     They made their way across the roof. Ranma noted that Azusa's palace 
had a lot in common with Azure Cloud Castle in regards to security. Namely, 
that it was weak and poorly arranged. No one had caught him in his free-climb 
up to visit Akane in the South Tower, and it didn't look like anyone was 
going to catch her here. 
     The roof access to the castle was shut from the inside. The mechanism 
was a standard latch, meaning that you had a little leeway with the access 
itself. After verifying that it had no security system contacts, Ranma 
wiggled at it for a moment to discover how much play she had to work with, 
then had Tarou hold the thing up as far as it would go while she looked 
inside with a folding mirror and a penlight.
     She removed one of her slim-jims from the kit bag, and slipped it into 
place. The latch sprang a moment later, and the hatch popped open to reveal 
a storage closet below. The smell of cleaning products was stong.
     Ranma was the first one down, examining the door while Tarou joined her. 
There were no contacts on the door, and no one seemed to be outside as she 
listened. She opened the door a crack, to peek out into a carpeted hallway. 
     She called up a mental picture of the sixth floor as detailed by the 
floorplan Ucchan had recalled for them. There was an elevator equipment room 
at the end of the hall, their next destination.
     She crept out into the hallway, with Tarou close behind. This level of 
the castle seemed deserted with the wedding going on. Most of the staff were 
on the lower levels, putting the finishing touches on the reception. 
     The equipment room door was locked with a non-contact cardkey system, 
which was a very important detail that Ucchan had neglected to mention.
     "Can you get through?" Tarou hissed. "If we have to climb the tower, 
we need to start now."
     "Gimme a second," Ranma returned. Most non-contact cardkeys were little 
more than very short range radio interrogation systems. Inside the cardkey 
was a bundle of simple electronics and a coil of copper wire that acted as 
the transceiver antenna. Much like the IFF transponder in an aircraft, they 
were inert until they received an interrogation signal from a reader, then 
used the energy of that signal to send back a low power reply with the 
correct passcode.
     Ranma had a programmable dummy card in her kit bag of burglary tools, 
but she didn't know if they had the time to go through every possible code 
sequence, even on the limited string of bits the cards were capable of 
handling. As with most things of this nature, however, there was a bypass 
- in this case, the Fire Service code. In the event of a fire, the cardkey 
system went inactive and unlocked the door to allow swift access out of 
the affected building. Normally, this set off alerts within the security 
system, but you could accomplish the same thing locally without making a 
fuss.
     "Well?" Tarou asked.
     "I said gimme a second." She fished through her kit bag for a small 
yet powerful electromagnet, and ran it carefully along the lower left edge 
of the flat scanner plate. There was an electrical contact for the Fire 
Service release in that general area for that make of system, and she 
needed to pull it closed with her electromagnet to activate it. 
     She was rewarded with a halting series of clicks as the contact 
alternated between open and shut. She narrowed down the precise location, 
then had Tarou pull open the door. It opened silently for them.
     "A lady of many talents," Tarou observed dryly.
     "Watch it, bub. Don't let the tits fool you. I'm all guy," Ranma 
growled.
     "Touchy, too."
     She crept inside. The elevator equipment room was mostly empty. A few 
control panels on the wall drew Ranma's interest. 
     "What are we looking for?" Tarou asked her.
     "An SCM," she replied, dusting off a laminated sheet of tech's crib 
notes near one of the units.
     "A what?"
     "System Control Module. Most of these elevators are arranged in banks. 
Something's gotta tell them which car answers which calls." She found one 
that looked promising. "I think this one is it."
     "How can you tell?" Tarou asked, curious.
     "Azusa's tower is too tall for a hydraulic elevator system," she 
replied. "They're only good for five or six floors, which is fine for the 
lower part of the castle. This control unit is for a winch and cable system."
     She studied the schematic for a moment, trying to remember what Major 
Beauregard had taught her about control protocols for that particular make 
of elevator system. Like most Scouts, Beauregard had a little larceny in 
his heart, and had taught her a few things about security systems and related 
equipment, and most importantly, how to get around them.
     She opened the panel with a stubby barrel key on a ring of similar keys 
from her burglary kit, and set a few internal switches accordingly.
     "Great," Tarou grunted. "What was that for?"
     "The west elevator for Azusa's tower now only answers call requests 
from the sixth floor. Anyone on another floor who pushes the call button 
will have to wait for the east car to answer."
     "Supposing someone on the sixth floor calls for an elevator while 
we're busy?"
     "I can take it out of service for as long as we need to once we get 
there," she replied. "We'll have our straight shot right to her Collection."
     They left the elevator room just in time to avoid a passing security 
guard check. Ranma watched from the shelter of the cleaning supply closet 
as the guard tugged at the door to the equipment room, then yawned and 
continued on his rounds. Apparently no one cared about supply closets, 
even ones with roof access...



                           *       *       *



     Doctor Tofu nudged Genma awake.
     "I don't see Ranma yet," he said to the elder Saotome. "Do you think 
something has gone wrong?"
     Genma rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The ceremony dragged on with 
no clear end in sight. "It's too soon to worry," he replied. He pointed 
to the Empress and General Sanzenin. "When those two are finally married, 
and Ranma isn't back yet, *then* we'll start to worry."




     Akane wished for a moment that she was with Ranma and Tarou. The 
bouquet she clutched to her chest was becoming tiresome, and the ceremony 
itself dragged on and on without end. There was no way that she would 
stand for this exhausting level of ceremony in her own wedding.
     She coped with the boredom with little daydream fantasies, projecting 
herself into Azusa's place before the altar, and substituting Ranma's cocky 
grin for Mikado's studied expression of contentment. It was a little 
ridiculous, she admitted, considering her reluctant fiance's feelings 
regarding marriage, but she was swept up in the moment. She was in love 
with him, the feeling becoming more and more comfortable with her every 
day, and where was the harm in hoping that he felt the same?
     She didn't think that this was an unreasonable hope, but the fear 
of his rejection lingered in spite of this. He was such a study in opposites 
that it made reading his heart nearly impossible. Still, the one question 
remained which gave her that sense of hope: why else would he have come 
back to the expedition, if he didn't feel *something* more than duty for 
her?  
     He *had* to feel something more for her. 
     She considered telling him how she felt about him later that evening, 
at the wedding reception - assuming of course that they didn't have to 
make tracks for the starport. Ukyou was still a threat to her, and maybe 
if she told him that she loved him, he would...
     Yeah, right, she groused to herself. Now you're *really* dreaming, 
Akane... If there was one thing she had learned with absolute certainty 
regarding Ranma Saotome, it was that you didn't back him into a corner. 
Not in war, and not in love. Pinning him down with a declaration of love 
before he was ready for it was asking for the thing she feared most: 
rejection.



                              Chapter Four

                              Azusa's Tower



     "It figures that she'd have a special key for this," Ranma groused. 
They were in the west elevator serving Azusa's tower. The standard barrel 
key that handled access to restricted floors for most elevators had been 
replaced by something much more formidable: a magnetically-encoded lock.
     "You can get around it, right?" Tarou asked, his confidence high after 
watching Ranma's high-tech burglary skills at work.
     Ranma knew better. The key was a piece of treated stainless-steel with 
carefully delineated bands of magnetic permeability encoded with data bits. 
Dummy-keys similar to the ones used to bypass cardkey and magnetic swipe 
readers existed, but they were extortionately expensive and difficult to 
find. It was one of the tools she did not possess in her kit.
     "Right?" Tarou pressed, getting irritable.
     She opened the panel with her electric-driver, and studied the interior. 
Her frown gave her away to Tarou.
     "You can't get around it," he grunted.
     She prodded at the wiring around the key reader mechanism. There were 
no schematics printed inside the panel for her to examine. If she played 
and probed with the internals long enough, she could probably find out which 
contacts unlocked the proper floor, but it would also involve having someone 
back in the elevator equipment room looking at the SCM.
     Tarou might have possessed some rudimentary electronics skills, since 
all mechwarriors needed a little technical knowledge if they wanted to do 
basic maintenance on their 'mechs, but this was specialized gear, and they 
had no means of communicating back and forth even if he did know what he was 
doing.
     "I could," she replied. "But not in the time we have to do this." She 
pointed to the ceiling of the elevator. "It looks like we climb from here."
     He shook his head at her in disgust. 
     "Don't give me that crap," she growled at him. "I got us this far, 
didn't I? This kind of stuff happens when you pull a job like this 
practically on the fly. You deal with it, and move on."
     She searched the interior of the elevator for the trapdoor. There was 
a section of decorative soft-ceiling that needed to be pulled first, and she 
made short work of it with her driver. 
     The elevator shaft was dimly lit, and had a refreshing breeze blowing 
down from above.
     "Punch for the highest floor you can get without using a key," she told 
Tarou as she pulled herself up through the open hatch.
     Tarou did so, and the elevator started to move, smoothly and silently. 
Ranma inspected the positioning contacts for the elevator's leveling 
circuits as it moved. When the elevator stopped, she poked her head down 
to regard him. 
     "Now take the elevator out of service." She tossed him a barrel key. 
Tarou inserted it in the proper lock and turned the service switch to 'off.'
     They had two floors to climb to reach the forbidden level of Azusa's 
personal apartments. It was easy going, though the ladder rungs were thick 
with dust that made Ranma's nose tickle. The locking mechanism that held the 
shaft doors shut when there was no elevator car present was released, and 
the two of them pulled the doors open just wide enough to take a look.
     Two soldiers stood at sloppy attention on the opposite side of the 
small elevator lobby, looking sleepy and bored. Ranma could tell by the 
amount of pink in the decor that they had come to the right place. The doors 
slid shut with a bump, making her cringe. The two guards, sleepy though they 
looked, might have noticed it.
     "What's wrong?" Tarou asked with a whisper. 
     "We've got a welcoming committee on the other side," she replied. 
     "Armed?"
     She tried to remember what she had seen of them in that brief instant. 
"Pistols, I think. There are two of them."
     "We can handle them," he returned.
     "Yeah, but can we do it without sounding an alarm?"
     "Are you suggesting that we turn back and try to climb up from the 
outside?" Tarou said, his eyes hardening in challenge. "There's no time 
for that."
     Ranma blew out her breath with a snort. "There's gotta be another way. 
How did you get out of her Collection in the first place?"
     "There is a dumbwaiter that services her apartments," Tarou replied. 
"It leads to a pantry kitchen on the floor below her Collection. I climbed 
out a window there, and then down to the roof of the castle."
     Ranma looked down. The elevator was stopped on that floor. "Why didn't 
you say so before?" she complained. "We could have gotten off on that floor 
and taken the dumbwaiter up!"
     "But you were the one with the plan and the nifty thief's tools," 
Tarou returned. "I thought you could handle it."
     "Never assume," Ranma said, starting back down the ladder. "Get 
moving."
     They slipped back into the elevator. Ranma replaced the decorative 
soft-ceiling, and hoped no one would notice the tiny paint chips she had 
dusted the carpet with in the process of removing it.
     Ranma unlocked the elevator long enough to open the doors, then took 
it back out of service. The pantry kitchen was deserted with all of the 
staff preparing for the reception. 
     Tarou led her to the dumbwaiter, which would prove to be a tight fit 
for her, let alone the much taller mechwarrior. Still, it was serviceable.
     "Send me up," Ranma declared, climbing into the cramped compartment.
     "What about me? I can't get into this thing and then push the button."
     "Then tell me where I need to go."
     Tarou grit his teeth. "When you're out, I'll send the car all the way 
down to the main kitchen, and climb up the shaft."
     "Suit yourself."



     The private apartments of Azusa the First were not as gaudy as Ranma had 
been expecting, but not by much. Pink still seemed to be the dominant color 
in use, and the decor could best be described as Barbie Rococo. The dumbwaiter 
opened on an airy dining room with tall, French-style doors that led to an 
intimate balcony facing away from the castle, and graced with a stunning view 
of the distant mountains.
     She waited for several minutes, making observations about the room and 
trying to orient herself within it with respect to the rest of the tower 
while Tarou labored up the shaft. When he finally appeared, he shot her a 
dark look and heaved himself through the service door.
     "Now where?" she asked him. 
     It took a moment for him to remember. "That way," he replied, pointing 
to a door.
     Ranma listened carefully at the door before opening it. The room beyond 
was Azusa's bedroom. A large brass four-poster bed with curtains dominated 
the room. Dozens of stuffed animals were neatly arranged atop the pillows. 
The rest of the room was cluttered with various bric-a-brac, and the decor 
continued along the Barbie Rococo theme. 
     "You sure?" she asked Tarou.
     "Positive. That first door over there is the bathroom. The second one 
leads to a spiral staircase down into the Collection. Every morning when 
she gets up, so goes down to say hello to all of her treasures, and at night 
she wishes them all good night."
     Ranma shot him a questioning look. "You're kidding me, right?"
     "I wish I was, Saotome."
     A glint of metal caught Ranma's eye, and she snatched up a tiny metal 
key with a gilded, heart-shaped handle. It was a magnetically-encoded key, 
she realized, but it was far too small to have operated the elevator. She 
decided to keep it for the moment, in case it opened anything useful.
     As Tarou had stated, the second door led to a spiral staircase. They 
took it down one level, with Ranma feeling as if she were descending into 
the Abyss itself. This was forbidden territory, the stuff of awful legend 
and terrible nightmare. The stairs opened up into a large chamber that was 
filled with the objects of Azusa's affection. 

     They beheld her dreaded Collection of Cute.

     "What a bunch'a junk!" Ranma remarked, holding up a plastic toy that 
looked like it had come from a fast food kid's meal. A collection of 
worthless plastic rings likely recovered from gumball machines was carefully 
spread out on a shelf next to the toy. More baubles and gewgaws were piled 
up on other shelves. Stacks of collectable trading cards featuring famous 
mechwarriors of the Inner Sphere were piled up elsewhere, though some, like 
the card for Tatewaki Kuno, had been defaced with a metallic silver marker 
- presumably by Azusa herself. It was the most tacky, tasteless assemblage 
of consumer trash she had ever seen, and there were even weirder trinkets. 
A pair of pliers, the cap to a tube of lip-balm, what looked like a hairy 
rubber ball attached to a key chain, a collection of singularly unremarkable 
rocks that had been plucked off the ground, a ratty bird feather, some 
seashells in varying degrees of repair, a napkin with some scribbles on 
it, and dear god... was that a... a *fishcake* sitting on a blue china 
plate?
     The larger items, like the giant plastic statue of a cherubic boy in 
checkered coveralls clutching a hamburger, a 1:10 scale Orion battlemech 
model painted in a camouflage scheme suitable only for a firefight on the 
planet of wasp-waisted and big-bosomed amazon supermodel dolls, a Totoro 
traffic sign pilfered from the Ghibli System, and a two-meter tall stuffed 
Godzilla with a top hat and a black bow-tie, occupied the available floor 
space.
     "You were expecting treasure out of Aladdin's Cave, maybe?" Tarou 
commented snidely. All the same, there was a haunted look in his eyes as 
he looked over the chamber where he had spent five miserable years of his 
life as a prisoner. The chamber itself gave no sign that he had ever been 
here before. All traces of his captivity had been swept away.
     "You said it yourself, she's a magpie," he muttered.
     Ranma was aghast. "A pack rat's more like it. How the hell are we 
going to find the sixth crypto key in the middle of all of this stuff?"



                          *        *       *



     Ukyou Kuonji was starting to get nervous. The rings were being 
exchanged, and still there was no sign of Ranchan. They were running out 
of time!
     The fact that Mikado gave her menacing looks over Azusa's shoulder 
every now and again was not helping her case of nerves. She had really 
bungled things by doing this to him. Her only chance to escape his wrath 
was to resign her commission as planned, and then browbeat her way on 
board Ranchan's ship. With Akane calling the shots now, that would prove 
difficult. If that idiot Genma had still been in charge, she could have 
guilt-tripped them into it. 
     There was another way, she reflected sadly. If she demanded a share 
of whatever they could find at Ryuugenzawa in exchange for the dowry 
owed her family, she could probably prevail upon Akane to allow her to 
come along. Though it would mean giving up on her ironclad claim to 
Ranchan, it didn't mean that she would stop working on him. It just meant 
that his engagement to Akane took precedence, until she could get him 
to renounce it and elope with her. 
     That shouldn't be too hard, right? she asked herself. There doesn't 
seem to be all that much between them anyway...



                           *       *       *



     "What does this key look like, Saotome?" Tarou asked her.
     "It looks like a flat piece of polished rectangular metal, probably 
colored gold," Ranma replied, remembering Chance G. King's description of 
the treasure Azusa had stolen from him. Her voice took on a hopeful lilt. 
"Why, did you find it?"
     "Apparently not."
     Ranma sighed wearily, and started through another shelf. They were 
pushing the limits of their time with this search, but even if Azusa 
herself walked in on them, she was not giving up. It had to be here 
somewhere!
     "We're out of time," Tarou remarked, checking his chronomter. "The 
wedding has to be about over by now."
     "You wanna leave, go ahead," Ranma returned, her voice taking on a 
hostile edge. "I'll find my own way out of here when I get what I came for."
     "I was merely making an observation," the _bishonen_ mechwarrior said 
to her. 
     Ranma started on the next shelf, wondering if she hadn't passed over 
it by mistake. 
     "You've honored your bargain with Akane," she said at length. "You got 
me in here, and I thank you for your help. Don't feel like you have to stick 
around on my account."
     "Idiot," Tarou grunted. "Do you think that I will get anything out of 
this deal if you get caught?"
     "Then shut up and watch the stairs." 
     She kept searching, trying to puzzle out some kind of pattern to the 
way Azusa presented her junk. There was none. None at least that a rational 
mind could discern. Who knew what drove the candied mush that Azusa called a 
brain?


     "If we find this key, will the location of Ryuugenzawa be revealed?" 
Tarou asked idly. He watched the stairs, expecting someone to come along at 
any time.
     "Once we plug it in to the decrypt machine with the others, yeah, I 
guess so."
     Tarou nodded slowly in thought. Though he could not bring himself to 
blame the Empress for what had happened, he could blame the Cult. He would 
destroy them, and he would end their stranglehold over the Federated 
Shiratori in one bold stroke once the Furinkan Combine possessed the 
secrets of Ryuugenzawa. At the head of the advancing Combine armies, he 
would see both the Joketsuzoku, AND the Cult of Azusa annihilated.
     "Sonofabitch!" Ranma cried triumphantly. It was always vaguely 
shocking to hear her curse so proficiently, Tarou mused. 
     

     Ranma Saotome looked down at the gold plaque that would finally bring 
an end to their search. It was laying on a bed of white velvet, and encased 
in a clear plastic box, sitting apart from everything else in the collection.
She didn't know why, but she almost felt like crying. For more than three 
years she and her father had been searching for the six keys. Three hard, 
lean years, times when they didn't have two C-bills between them.
     She opened the box gingerly, and withdrew the plaque. It looked no 
different from the others, except for the color. From her kit bag, she 
pulled out a piece of gold-anodized flat stock that had been machined on 
board the _Dragonfly_ during the transit from Tiber. It looked close enough 
to the real thing to fool an airhead like Azusa, especially since she had 
no idea what the real thing was.
     She placed the fake key on the velvet and carefully closed the box. 
Turning her back to Tarou, she tugged open her bodysuit and slipped the 
real crypto key into her cleavage, the metal cold against her skin. 
     "Do I want to know where you're putting that?" Tarou asked her 
sardonically.
     "No."
     "Fine. Let's get the hell out of here. I had my fill of this place 
years ago."
     Ranma had to agree with that. Twenty minutes was way too long for a 
place like this.



                           *       *       *



     Akane watched as Mikado drew back Azusa's veil and kissed her with 
the kind of tenderness that made every woman in the cathedral sigh, herself 
included. The moment didn't last for her though, as Ranma was still not 
back. 
     Where is that idiot? she wondered fearfully. The wedding had perhaps 
five minutes left to it, and then they would have to file out with their 
escorts. If Ranma didn't show up, and soon, there was going to be a 
groomsman without a bridesmaid, and people were going to start asking 
questions...
  


     Ukyou tried not to gag as Mikado kissed his blushing new bride. While 
the collective sigh from the ladies in attendence threatened to overpower 
the rising level of the music and the smattering of polite applause from 
the men, she glanced up to the catwalk. A flash of movement caught her eye, 
and she saw Ranchan and her accomplice dashing pell-mell across the 
cathedral.
     Hurry it up, you jackass! She winced at the thought of how little time 
Ranma would have to get back into her bridesmaid gown. 



     "Okay. NOW it's time to start worrying," Genma remarked to Doctor Tofu. 
He tugged at the starched collar of his rented tuxedo nervously.
     "Keep your shorts on," Happousai replied. He gestured idly with his 
unlit pipe at the tiny figures of Ranma and Tarou dashing across the service 
catwalk. "I see 'em."
     "Do they have it?" Genma asked excitedly.
     "How should I know?" the wizened mechwarrior snorted. "Who do I look 
like, superman? Find someone with telescopic x-ray vision, why don't you?"


     The bridal couple began their triumphant march down the aisle and to 
their waiting carriage. The small army of young girls tending Azusa's train 
assembled with military precision, Ukyou noted. Too bad the real military 
couldn't function like that...
     Being the Maid of Honor, she would be among the first to leave the 
cathedral after the Imperial Couple and their handlers. She would not be 
around to see if Ranma made it until after she was outside.
     Konatsu cleared his throat gently, reminding her to step up and take 
the arm of the Best Man, a man drawn from Azusa's court, and who didn't 
really know Mikado from Adam, she thought with a smirk. If it wasn't for 
the fact that her nemesis was already making plans to use his new-found 
proximity to the Empress against her, she would have laughed out loud at 
how he had been so thoroughly railroaded into this.


     Come on, Ranma! Akane thought, gritting her teeth as she turned towards 
the center of the dais to be escorted from the cathedral. She took the 
offered arm of her designated pretty-boy, and spared one furtive glance back 
towards Akari, who was beginning her turn. There was no sign of Ranma.


     "Your shoes!" Tarou hissed at Ranma, as she wriggled the rest of her 
way into the gown and zipped up on the run.
     "No time!" she hissed back. I hated the damn things anyway...
     Her hair was a mess, as she had expected, and as she burst through the 
tapestry to the cathedral nave, she knew she looked pretty disheveled. The 
pretty-boy she was supposed to be with was already making his way towards 
the center aisle, his eyes opening wide in surprise at her hasty appearance.
     She caught him just in time, drawing a chuckle from those in the front 
of the cathedral who could see what was happening, and clucks of reproach 
from obvious vac-head members of the Cult. 
     Screw 'em, she thought to herself. If they only knew where I've been...
     Her groomsman looked mortified at having to walk with someone so 
unkempt, and he tried to maintain as much distance from her as possible 
while still remaining arm in arm. Ranma put on a huge and mindless grin to 
compensate.
     As she passed by her father, Ryouga, and the Doc, she made a tiny 
wiggle of her bosom at them. She nearly snorted with laughter as Ryouga got 
an eyeful of her cleavage and blinked in shock. Genma noted the thin sliver 
of gold tucked carefully between her breasts and gave her a silent thumbs up.
Happousai vaulted from the pew with a cry of glee, and was dragged down in 
midair by Doctor Tofu before he could cause more of a scene.
     Once they cleared the doors to the foyer, her groomsman broke from her 
with a snooty look of disgust and embarrassment.
     "Same to you, pal," she growled back at him. The foyer was filled with 
the wedding party, press, and guests who had ducked out a little early to 
watch the Imperial Couple come through. It was a mad house of noise and 
celebration. Through the great windows of the cathedral foyer, Ranma could 
see the Empress' carriage pulling away under full honor guard escort to the 
castle.
     She ran into Ukyou and Konatsu first.
     "Cutting it awful close, aren't we, Ranchan?" she said to her. 
     "Hey, I got what we came for," she replied.
     Ukyou threw her arms around Ranma in a very unsisterly hug. "Terrific!" 
she cried. She was kissing Ranma's cheek just as Akane and Akari appeared. 
     "*Ahem...* I hope I'm not interrupting anything," the Confederation 
Heir said to the two of them, red-faced.
     "Just celebrating, sugar," Ukyou replied sweetly. "Ranchan did it."
     Akane's expression changed in an instant.
     "You did?"
     Ranma nodded smugly.
     "Can I see it?"
     Ranma produced the plaque from her cleavage, and was about to hand it 
to Akane when Genma suddenly snatched it up from behind. 
     "I'll take that, thank you," he replied.
     "What's the big idea?" Ranma asked her father.
     Genma slipped the sixth key onto the chain with the others, and put 
it around his neck, tucking it back under his shirt and buttoning up his 
tuxedo front once more. 
     "As long as I'm holding the other keys, I might as well keep this one 
safe. Unless you want to carry it around the rest of the night the way you 
brought it in here." He gave his bow tie a final tug. "We've got all six 
keys, boy. I'm not going to lose them now."
     He brushed past. "I'm returning to the _Palomino,_" he told them. 
"Have fun at the reception for me."
     Ranma put her hands on her hips, her mouth hanging open in surprise. 
"Man, now I've seen everything. Pop actually turning down free food and an 
open bar...?"
     "Let him go, honey," Ukyou said to her. She brushed a hand at Ranma's 
touseled hair. "My, you look like hell. We've got a *massive* wedding party 
photo shoot to do after this." She pulled Konatsu over to them. "Konatsu, 
honey, see what you can do with Ranchan. I have to get the rest of the 
wedding party over to the castle."
     Ranma looked agog. "You mean there's MORE of this crap?"
     Akane playfully brushed back a lock of Ranma's hair from her ear.
     "I can tell how many weddings *you've* been to in your life."
     "Yeah, ONE." She made an exaggerated sigh. "Let's just get this 
over with so we can get off this planet, okay?"



                              Chapter Five

                         The Private Apartments of 
                   Her Imperial Divinity, Azusa the First
                               7 May 3025



     Mikado Sanzenin awoke with a start. He was in a soft, very large brass 
bed; a four-poster bed with gauzy curtains to isolate its occupants from the 
rest of the room. He blinked several times at the offending daylight that 
streamed through the drapes, his mouth dry and cottony.
     It took him several moments to realize that he was in Azusa's bed, 
but when he stretched out and knocked a plush stuffed-unicorn toy off the 
mattress, it came to him in a rush. He had done it. He had married the
Goddess-Empress of the Federated Shiratori, and as his lack of clothing 
affirmed, he had consummated their union.
     As his power of recall slowly came into focus, he remembered that 
making love to her hadn't been as bad as he had feared. It was actually 
quite enjoyable - aside from her childish squeals and her over-the-top
desire for role-play prior to and during the act. The twelve or so double 
martinis, the magnum of champagne, and the three cognac nightcaps he had 
consumed at the reception probably also had something to do with the 
favorable assessment of his wedding night. He had taken his pre-nuptial 
bliss preparations quite seriously.
     He sat up in bed. The sound of his new bride humming sweetly in the 
adjoining bathroom gave him a sense of satisfaction. 
     Azusa appeared a moment later, wearing naught but a short peekaboo 
nightie that left nothing to the imagination. Mikado raised an eyebrow 
appreciatively at her. There was nothing childish or immature about her 
body, he noted. Nothing at all.
     She gave him an adoring look, and skipped over to the side of the 
bed to sweetly kiss him good-morning. Something had changed within her 
overnight, as if the act of their union had really made her into a woman, 
and not the overgrown child of yesterday. It was a thought that gave him 
more than a little satisfaction.
     Perhaps being married to her won't be so bad after all, he mused. 
If she does a little more growing up, she might even be tolerable...!
     "Good morning, Mickie darling," she chirped at him, all smiles. She 
looked extremely good in that nightie, Mikado mused. He let her irritating 
pet name for him pass without comment.
     "Good morning, love," he returned with relaxing charm. "You look 
ravishing."
     Azusa smiled prettily and fluffed at her hair. "Would Azusa's darling 
husband care for breakfast?" she asked him. She might have done a little 
growing up, he realized, but her speech patterns hadn't changed. His eyes 
fell upon her lovely body once more.
     Damn, she looked good...
     He gazed at her, his eyes hungry, but not for food. He reached out 
a hand for her, pulling her with gentle urgency into the bed. "Let's skip 
breakfast and go straight to dessert."
     Azusa giggled, falling over on top of him, and straddling her long 
bare legs at his hips. "Oooo, Mickie," she cooed in his ear. "You're so 
naughty!" By the look in her eyes, she wasn't objecting to a little slap-
and-tickle before breakfast.
     That was when he noticed that something did not feel right beneath 
the sheets and comforter that separated them. He reached underneath the 
bedcovers to straighten himself out, as it were, figuring that Azusa was 
simply sitting on him funny. When his hand reached his loins, he stopped 
cold, his eyes lighting up with dread.
     "Ooooo!" his bride squeaked. "Azusa almost forgot!"
     She fumbled around on the bed for something as he lay there, paralyzed 
with cold terror. Not finding what she was looking for, she whipped off the 
bedcovers, exposing him. He did not want to look, but his eyes drifted down 
his torso to his groin anyway.
     His manhood was trapped within an elegantly crafted cage. The cold slate 
gleam of the metal told him what it was made of: aligned-crystal steel, the 
hardest, toughest substance known to humanity. The cage was fixed to his waist 
by a slender strand of the stuff sheathed in soft silk to prevent chafing, 
which was good considering that it fit him tightly - so tightly in fact, that 
he'd have to have the ends of his pelvis shaved down if he wanted to wriggle 
out of it. A tiny magnetically-encoded padlock, also made of aligned-crystal 
steel, kept the arrangement locked into place. The final insult, however, was 
the blue satin ribbon bow someone, presumably Azusa, had tied upon it.
     "Now where did Azusa put that key?" she asked herself, digging through 
the bedcovers. She gave him a puzzled look, trying to remember if she had 
even seen it recently. The key had not been necessary when she had rigged 
him up early that morning...
     "Never mind that!" Mikado yelled. "Why am I in this... this... thing?!"
     She popped up from her fruitless search under the bed.
     "It's a chastity belt!" she chirped, apparently unaffected by his 
strident tone, nor the fact that the key was missing. "Isn't it cuuuuute?"
     "It's not cute!" he protested. "What made you think you could put 
this damn thing on my penis!"
     Azusa drew herself up haughtily. "No no, Mickie," she reproached him 
gently. "We're married." She patted the cage affectionately. "That means 
Little Pierre now belongs to Azusa!"
     Mikado purpled. His hands wrenched at the chastity belt in desperation, 
forcing Azusa to draw back from him in dreadful anticipation. 
     "Ah ah," she warned him. "That's dangerous."
     An electric shock lanced through him, biting into his hands as well as 
other, more sensitive portions of his anatomy. His yelp of anguish nearly 
shattered the windows.
     "See?" she said to him, a bemused grin on her face.
     Mikado groaned in agony as he lay back on the bed, little wisps of 
grey smoke drifting up from his scorched fingertips and his... well, never 
mind that. 
     Azusa, sensing that her darling Mickie was no longer in the mood, 
bounced off the bed and went back into the bathroom, the missing key 
obviously no longer a concern to her.



                        END OF PART TWENTY-ONE






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