Process of Elimination -- Chapter Five

  Disclaimer: The primary colors in this story are from Takahashi, Viz (Ranma 1/2) and Pioneer (Tenchi Muyo!).

  Additional tinting provided by: Kitty Films, and Naoko Takeuchi (Sailor Moon), TV Tokyo and Ken Akamatsu (Love Hina), Takada Yuuzou, and A.D.Vision (Bannou Bunka Nekomusume Nuku-Nuku), Takashi Yabara, Viz, SNK (Fatal Fury). The easel is mine. That's all.

  Notes: Diverges from Ranma after volume 24, continuation for OAV 2 in the Tenchi universe (well, one of them). Nuku Nuku is from the OAVs, not Dash or TV. Sailor Moon occurs, well, at some point in the series, but it's something of an alt anyway. This fic uses the bizarrely vague 'Pick One!' scenario. Enjoy.

  If you have it, I recommend playing 'Sou Gan' during... well, you'll know where it should be played.

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  "From a historical standpoint, this will largely be identified as nothing more than an odd footnote, but from a relative standpoint... the impact of Emperor Yosho's decision set in motion changes that will doubtlessly change the way that the entire hierarchy of Jurai works. Ironic, really, since he did so little to move events in this direction, other than his first official act. Actually, --" [record truncated].

  Laruma Karau of Minor House Laruma, Historian, House Laruma -- Recovered fragment from personal archives circa Old Terran Year 1999-2000


  Terry let part of his mind drift, focusing instead on the rhythm of motion, smooth, leaping bounds, the cat-like girl pacing him easily. He glanced at the map that the redhead had given him one more time, then stuffed it into a pocket mid-leap.

  Nuku kept up, even when he increased his speed, going at what he judged surpassed the speed of the average vehicle. There was, at least, a certain... freedom... in the act of simple running.

  Even if he couldn't run forever.

  He skidded to a halt, as more and more people began to line the streets, first the occasional couple or lone person hurrying in the same direction, then whole small families, and larger clusters of associates pressing towards a common goal. The harbor, he realized.

  Nuku stopped behind him, looking around curiously, and not even winded. He snorted, eyeing the streets ahead. As wide as Tokyo's streets traditionally were, only packed tightly with people, more of the worrisomely vast wall of humanity trickling in to try and cram their way forward. It was nothing short of sheer luck, as far as Terry could tell, that kept the masses from breaking down and panicking.

  And a good thing, too. He shook his head, not even wanting to think of the mess that it would cause were such a thing to happen.

  Turning his attention to the immediate problem, he glanced at Nuku, jerking his thumb towards the skyscrapers lining the streets. "Hey," he asked, "you think you can jump between those and pass overhead without falling?"

  The girl nodded attentively, bracing herself for a jump, and Terry smiled slightly at the sight.

  She certainly had a lot of energy. "Well," he remarked, "let's get going then!" With that, he vaulted out across the crowd, ignoring the gasps and yells of surprise, and rebounding off of the hard concrete between floors of the nearest skyscraper, angling inwards and deeper above the crowd. A glance behind him showed that the girl was still trailing him, her arcs higher and slower. "Just hope we don't start a riot," he whispered, too quietly to be heard over the rushing air around him.

  ***

  Wringing her hands in agitation, a young woman paced the hallway, unsure of what she should do. "Oh," she muttered, "I feel so helpless!"

  Nabiki looked up from where she had slumped to the floor in the hallway. "What's bothering you, Oneesan?"

  Flustered, Kasumi sank to the floor opposite her sister, and sighed. "I feel so helpless," she muttered again. "Saotome-san is so unwell, and poor Ranma-kun!" She wrung her hands once more, prompting Nabiki to stretch out and hold Kasumi's hands to keep them from fidgeting.

  "Oneesan," Nabiki said firmly. "Listen to me. Ranma's... Ranma's better off without that stuck-up..." she trailed off, composing herself. "I'm sure that Nodoka's just a little unbalanced. With some time, she should be able to calm down, and since Ranma's... pet... ate her sword, she's no longer dangerous."

  Kasumi frowned uncertainly. "I don't... we can't go to the harbor without her, though. We can't just abandon her."

  Nabiki snorted, shaking her head and releasing Kasumi's hands to slump against the wall. "If you say so," she grumbled dourly.

  Both girls broke of their ruminations, as a pale beam of light swept through the walls of the house, bathing the pair and brightening in intensity until Nabiki was forced to close her eyes. When she opened them again, she found herself sitting in the center of a vast wooden deck, Kasumi and Nodoka close by, and looking equally stunned.

  A man wearing officious robes attended by a pair of tiny wooden cylinders floating -- one over each shoulder -- approached, nodding slowly, and scanning a small display that the cylinders projected before him.

  "Hello," he pronounced slowly, "I hope this translator is working correctly. Are any of you injured, or required back on the surface of the planet?"

  Nabiki stood slowly, staring about her. The vast wooden deck was massive, and gargantuan walls loomed in the distance, along with a ceiling some dozen meters above her. Flashes of light appeared with somewhat spastic regularity across the wooden deck, leaving more dazed people to stare about in conclusion.

  Finally having regained her feet, Nabiki fell abruptly back down, landing suddenly on her rump. "Oh, wow," she managed, the enormity of the situation setting in. They were leaving Earth... abandoning the planet that had belonged to humanity for all of the history that Nabiki had ever known. And Ranma was staying down there to fight, and try and keep it for humans.

  A figure stood before her, bending low and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Nabiki? When Kasumi comes to her senses, tell her that I love her. I love both of you." Nabiki blinked, trying to work her jaw as the figure -- her father -- straightened, and approached the man with the wooden cylinders. "I need to return, can you please send me back?"

  Wait, Nabiki tried to say. Stop, don't go. But she was still too stunned, and no words came, until Soun vanished in a sudden flash of light.

  Another man appeared near her a moment later, dressed smartly in his business suit, somewhat rumpled from the transition, a small girl held protectively in his arms as he stared about in astonishment. The young man with the cylinders approached the man, and asked his question, "Are any of you injured, or required back on the surface of the planet?"

  The salaryman shook his head slowly, still clutching the girl protectively. "I'm... okay," he said slowly. Nodding in satisfaction at the man, the questioner moved on towards the next flash of light.

  Another man in officious robes, accompanied by a trio of slightly smaller wooden cylinders over one shoulder, approached. His bearing screamed, 'military,' to Nabiki, and she gathered her will, trying to collect her senses. "Hello, and welcome aboard the Freya-oh. My name is Laruma Genoh, and I'm with the Silver Journey -- Ginraii. Can you please give me your name?"

  Nabiki numbly heard herself say, "Tendo Nabiki. This is my sister Tendo Kasumi."

  Genoh nodded, glancing at the trio of wooden cylinders to check something, and evidently pleasing himself with what he had observed. "Thank you, Tendo-san. There will be a briefing before we cross the gate and enter Juraian space." Genoh sighed softly, and walked towards the salaryman, still holding his daughter, and having calmed slightly. "Hello, and welcome aboard the Freya-oh. My name is Laruma Genoh, and I'm with the Silver Journey -- Ginraii. Can you please give me your name?"

  "Joudai Arashi," the salaryman mumbled. "This is my daughter, Yuki. I'm with the Tokyo Index and Exchange. I summarize the Index..." he trailed off into silence, looking as lost as Nabiki felt. "What happens now?"

  Genoh didn't have an easy answer for that question, either.

  ***

  The street seemed somehow empty with Ranma gone. And one of the strange women with him... Ranma managed to fall in with a lot of strange people, though. A few more shouldn't be too surprising, even if Ranma were less... human... and more like a character off of some cheap pulp manga.

  Shaking his head, Ryouga glanced around, wondering what would happen next. Mousse eyed the redheaded woman curiously, adjusting his glasses from time to time. They were both dying to ask the same question, he knew, but both knew better than to do so. He sighed, scratching at his bandana morosely, and sinking into one of the abandoned seats.

  Mousse joined him after a moment, the two having settled into a companionable silence. Washuu and Cologne murmured quietly to each other about China, the old woman having produced a pile of charts and numerous baubles earlier.

  He sighed again, wishing he could trust himself to walk outside... but Checkers had settled down for a nap, and rousing the dog just to wander about didn't suit him. He grimaced, trying to think about the situation rationally.

  "So," he said, struggling to think of something to talk about, "what do you think is going to happen next?"

  Mousse looked thoughtful, glancing towards the two women, and shrugged. "Us going to China," he said. "I guess, at any rate. The old mummy probably wants to go home... our village is there, among other things. Probably a few things back home that might help, too."

  Ryouga raised an eyebrow. "Things that might help?"

  The bespectacled boy nodded, taking off his glasses to clean them on the sleeve of his robe. "Yeah," he said, donning the thick lenses again, "I think that throwing spring of drowned duck water or something like that on the monsters would help us out quite a bit."

  Rocking back in his chair slightly, Ryouga nodded. "That's true," he admitted. "I didn't think of that."

  Mousse simply shrugged. "I just hope we don't end up being totally useless. I keep worrying that I should be doing more..." he trailed off uncomfortably.

  Ryouga nodded, staring at the table before him in thought. Was that it? It was jealousy? Ranma was still doing better than they -- rescuing his fiancees, and then coming back to keep fighting, despite his losses. Was it that it? Was he simply trying to one-up his old rival? Hanging his head, Ryouga sighed. Had he been that petty towards Ranma?

  It was a bleak day indeed. "Well," he said, raising his head to glance at Mousse, buried in his own thoughts. "At least the day's almost over."

  Mousse snorted, nodding.

  ***

  Ranma hung in the air, still and relaxed. From his altitude, he could see over the mountains and on to the faint smudged line that was the horizon. The world was spread out beneath him, the sparkling seas to the south glimmering against the light of the setting sun, just barely visible some eighty kilometers and more away.

  Further west, not far from the sun's own position lower in the sky, Fuji was clearly visible, the nearly cloudless sky being a welcome change from the weather that Ranma had become accustomed to. A passing cloud drifted below him, fleece-like in its texture, though he had been surprised to see what they were like when he had gotten closer.

  A dark shadow suddenly eclipsed the cloud, as one of the Juraian warships from above altered its course, descending to the city below. Ranma watched, fascinated, as the dreadnought pierced the cloud, sinking majestically through the flimsy layer of vapor to plunge downward, trailing mist behind it.

  "Huh," he managed, transfixed.

  Ryouko nodded from her position nearby, watching the same scene. "I've seen more spectacular things in my time," she commented, "but... it's certainly not bad to look at." She glanced at Ranma covertly, smirking.

  He snorted, taking a deep breath, and letting himself... drop. Ryouko squawked in surprise, diving after him as he grinned, watching the city accelerate towards him, hands outstretched.

  The air snapped and whistled about him as he fell, until he righted himself, much lower, savoring each moment of the descent. "That was fun," he laughed, as Ryouko caught up to him, confused.

  "What?" she asked.

  He shrugged, drifting towards the ground gently. "I just... I don't know. Have you ever done that, before? Just... let yourself go for a bit, and then caught yourself again? Maybe you're just more used to flying than me."

  Ryouko looked at him thoughtfully. "You think it's fun?" she asked, sounding more puzzled than she looked.

  Shrugging again, he replied, "Well, pretty much, yeah."

  She continued to look at him appraisingly. "I guess if it were new to me, I might feel the same way..."

  He laughed softly, and was about to suggest that she try it when Ran-oh-ki shifted suddenly, causing Ranma to glance at his shoulder in surprise. How had the little furry thing managed to hang on? Further speculation was interrupted by Washuu's voice over the communicator, "Ranma? Can you come back, please? Cologne and I need to get to the harbor soon."

  He sighed, accelerating towards the Nekohanten, Ryouko close by. "Okay, I'm coming," he answered.

  ***

  Ayeka cleared her throat anxiously as Ryo-oh-ki pierced the thin and flimsy looking field that surrounded the Throne, sinking to rest some distance over one of the decks. The starboard deck, Ayeka noted, glancing around the flat surface, the stars sharply contrasting against the gleaming wooden floor.

  Ryo-oh-ki chose that moment to transport them to the surface in a dizzying surge of light and color, before reverting from ship to the small creature that Ryouko so loved to torment. Tenchi smiled, catching it as it descended, and setting it atop Kamidake. For its part, the guardian paid its passenger no attention, simply maintaining his position flanking Ayeka.

  The princess masked a grimace, as Tenchi and Yosho glanced about warily, both of them focusing on a pair of approaching royal guards.

  Ayeka had taken care to recognize each of the Emperor's own bodyguards on sight, and these two were no exception. There had been surprisingly few changes after her extended absence, which alarmed her somewhat, but if it meant that she didn't lose her edge in the petty politicking that Jurai so loved, then so be it.

  Giving the guards just enough time to open their mouths, she smoothly overrode them, saying, "Peruma, Saryo, it is good to see you. We seek the Emperor and time is short -- take us to him."

  They swallowed back their own declarations, nodding, and led the way, Ayeka demurely deferring the lead position to Yosho. He grimaced, but followed the guards, Tenchi carefully remaining a short distance behind him, yet ahead of Ayeka.

  He glanced back at her, worry plain on his face. She'd have to teach him to hide that better... Not even the Minor Houses would be fooled by his best poker faces. Instead of reprimanding him, she nodded subtly, offering the merest hint of a smile. He relaxed instantly, his face smoothing to a mask of calm and readiness.

  She nearly stumbled, but caught herself as he looked away. Then again, maybe he wouldn't need to be taught that much.

  The rest of the journey was completed in silence, Yosho obviously wishing that it could be moved faster, though he concealed most of his ire until they reached the main audience chamber.

  The Court was arrayed neatly around the Emperor, standing in the hall rather than sitting upon the formal seat -- the control center of the Throne. Ayeka glanced around, hiding her search in smiles and polite nods at the surrounding courts, looking for... ah. Tsunami was there, standing nearer the throne than the Emperor. Likely to be closer to the tree, Ayeka surmised, though she kept that speculation to herself.

  The Emperor's pride exceeded his skill at hiding his expression, and he smirked broadly, nodding at Yosho as he drew near, Tenchi trailing him. Yosho coughed loudly, stopping some paces before his father, and held one hand towards Tenchi. "Give me the Tenchi-ken," he commanded quietly.

  Tenchi frowned, a moment of doubt visibly passing across his features, but nodded, handing the master key to Yosho. Yosho held it in one hand, inspecting it closely, while the Court watched silently. They wouldn't say anything until the meeting between Yosho and his father was over, most likely, with the possible exception of the Emperor's wives. Of course, Ayeka had never known her mother to speak out against the Emperor in public.

  Yosho eyed the key for a moment, running his fingers across the jewels in the hilt, and then looked up to meet his father's gaze. "I'm here," he said simply. "Now what?"

  The Emperor coughed imperiously, and nodded. "Well, it is good to see you again, my son. We said we would wait for you to return to rule Jurai for as long as it takes... and it make not even take as much time as we had thought."

  Yosho shrugged, twirling the Tenchi-ken through his fingers in a brazen display of indifference. Even Tenchi winced upon seeing the breach of protocol -- the only ones who looked to be unaffected were Tsunami, and Yosho himself. The Court gasped, if quietly, but no murmurs were allowed to escape. "Let's get down to the point," Yosho declared. "And that's this: you wanted me to return so that I could take the mantle of 'Emperor' once you decided to leave it, correct?"

  The Emperor nodded slowly, frowning. "Indeed --"

  Yosho tossed the Tenchi-ken high into the air above, stating, "Okay then, here's the deal. You want me to come back, so make me the Emperor."

  "We see no problem with that request," came the response. Brows furrowing slightly, the Emperor remarked, "It was ever our intent. Why do you request this, then?"

  Smirking broadly, Yosho snatched the Tenchi-ken from the air as it fell back towards the ship's deck, and announced, "Right now."

  Ayeka bit her tongue, hard, and Tenchi simply gaped openly. Misaki and Funaho exchanged a glance, and raised their eyebrows from their positions across the Court.

  The Emperor shook his head slowly, "I don't..." He swore softly underneath his breath, and coughed loudly. "We do not understand."

  Yosho grinned, waving the Tenchi-ken at his father. "You want me to come back, then you make me the Emperor. Right now. Not when you feel like it, not in two hours... not even in ten minutes. Right now," he demanded.

  The Emperor grimaced, and Ayeka drew in a slow, hissing breath. If The Emperor said 'no', what could Yosho do? Shaking his head slowly, he appeared as though he would refuse... but he relented, dubiously. Sourly, he commented, "As... As you wish it, then. I hereby pass the crown to you, knowing that I am leaving the Empire in good hands." With that, Azusa, no longer the Emperor, removed his mantle, and handed it to Yosho hesitantly.

  Tsunami glided forward smoothly, announcing, "I stand witness. Welcome to Jurai, Emperor Yosho."

  Yosho donned the mantle nodding as he tugged it on, and leaving his father to stand in confusion, and wonder what his role was, now... But then, Ayeka realized, his role was over, and Yosho was the ruler. She could see the Court boiling beneath their carefully composed exteriors. Likely they saw a way to change things to their own liking, and Yosho was horribly out of date on Court customs. Unlike Ayeka, he'd had his memories of the correct way of handing things dulled over the last seven hundred and more years of being no more than a priest at a shrine.

  He eyed the Court, nodding to himself, twirling the Tenchi-ken in one hand, and grinning. "I like it," he announced. "I can get used to this."

  He snapped his fingers, while Tsunami drew to a halt at his side. Ryo-oh-ki bounded to his ankles, and he leant down, scratching her behind her ears. "Well, it's been fun, all, but I'm afraid it's time for us to leave," he commented, eliciting a -- this time -- audible gasp in reaction from the Court.

  Ayeka swallowed nervously. Whatever Yosho was planning, it couldn't be good...

  The man sighed, and tossed the Tenchi-ken to Tenchi. The boy caught it belatedly, horribly confused, as Yosho slipped off the mantle of Emperor. "My first act as Emperor of Jurai," he announced, throwing the mantle towards Tenchi, after the blade, "is to step down. Congratulations, Emperor Tenchi."

  Azusa nearly suffered a visible conniption fit, exploding, "Now WAIT just one moment here--"

  Tsunami raised a hand, and the Emperor fell silent. In these matters, Ayeka remembered as a hollow feeling formed in the pit of her stomach, the decision could not be disputed by the Emperor. They were to be settled by the Court. The only possible allowable exception to this was the word of the Goddess of Jurai. Tsunami.

  If there was no Emperor, her word was law. Addressing the entire ship, and granted the amplification of the Throne, her voice rang out, "I stand witness. Welcome to Jurai, Emperor Tenchi."

  Then again, Ayeka thought, they probably never expected it to actually happen.

  The court fell silent, stunned, and Azusa visibly fumed. "Yosho," he hissed, "how could you betray me so!"

  Yosho shrugged indifferently, gathering Ryo-oh-ki into his hands. "About as easily as you can betray my people, Father. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a planet to get back to and defend." Dropping his voice to a whisper, he turned towards Tenchi and Ayeka. "Sorry to force you into this, but you can manage things... there... better than I can." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And, ah, save yourself some heartache and secure a political alliance with a daughter of the former ruling house of Jurai, Tenchi."

  Tenchi nodded dazedly, still staring at the mantle in his hands. The mantle of rulership. Ayeka felt her knees grow weak. "Oh, my," she managed. Tenchi. Emperor. Somehow, it made a dizzying sort of sense...

  Tsunami smiled, and reached for Yosho's hands. "I applaud your choice," she told him. "Now, we must depart." So saying, she gathered his hands on her own, Ryo-oh-ki scrambling to climb atop Yosho's shoulders. Her eyes closed in concentration as beam of light from the tree enveloped both of them, and they vanished.

  Not vanished, Ayeka knew from a technical standpoint, teleported to another tree... but it was still disconcerting.

  Shaking his head, Azusa stomped towards Tenchi, grumbling, "Foolish boy... he'll come back yet--"

  His further words were cut off by not one, but both of his wives barring his passage. "I think not," Funaho warned, lips quirked into a smile.

  Misaki nodded in agreement. "Yes, I'm afraid that I cannot reasonably allow you to approach the Emperor, in my capacity as the Supreme Commander of the Royal bodyguard."

  Azusa fumbled for words, "But, I, we, that is..."

  Misaki glanced at Ayeka and Tenchi, now the center of the entire Court's attention. "Besides," she stated calmly, before grabbing the former Emperor in a crushing hug, her voice escalating to a squeal, "aren't they just so _cute_?"

  Tenchi sighed forlornly, dismissing them for a moment, and struggling into the mantle. _His_ mantle, now. Glancing at Ayeka, he swallowed nervously, whispering, "I guess... Um... I guess this means that I should marry you now, like Jiji said, right?"

  Was that what he had said? Ayeka suddenly felt very faint. "Oh, my," she managed. "But then, that would make me the Inspector General of Information, Tenchi-sama..."

  He shrugged, managing a wry grin. "I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather have there. It's just..." he trailed off, looking disappointed.

  Ayeka wondered where the words that she spoke were coming from, as she heard her voice explain, "But, Tenchi-sama, the Emperor is allowed more than one wife, and could you think of a better bodyguard than Ryouko?"

  Tenchi coughed nervously, flushing. "Two? Both? I mean... uh..." He glanced around the ship, the assembled Court still studying him closely. "Okay," he said after a moment. "Why not? But, uh... let's be _really_ careful when we tell Ryouko about all of this."

  "Yes," Ayeka heard her voice, much louder than she thought she intended, "and let's be sure to keep her away from fragile things when she finds out."

  "Fragile things?"

  "Yes, Tenchi-sama. Fragile things. Things like planets, and the Juraian Home Fleet."

  Tenchi blinked at her in confusion. "Oh," he said softly, realization blooming in his eyes. "Good point."

  "If you don't mind, Tenchi-sama, I'd like to faint now." And with that, everything fell to blackness.

  ***

  Terry hopped over a high chain-link fence, clearing the barbed wire easily, and glancing back to make sure that the girl had no trouble. She landed lightly nearby, looking at him expectantly.

  Shrugging, he turned to survey the area. The compound was large and low, except for one wide tower that rose easily twelve stories high, circular, with a blue steel and glass latticework structure covering the entire exterior. He glanced upwards, seeing the dishes that he assumed meant some kind of communications system that capped the structure haphazardly.

  The faint smell of the harbor was evident, a salty tang that just barely managed to survive against the harsh smell of the city -- droves of humanity, old air from automobiles, and the sour reek of wet asphalt. A glance to one side revealed a broken section of piping in a planter bordering the parking lot. The planter had flooded, and was even then flowing into the lot.

  Nuku made a face at it briefly, then turned her attention back to him. "Right," he said uncertainly, marching towards the building. "Do you know your way around here?"

  She nodded, staying in his shadow. The main door was like that of a traditional office building, double glass doors. The lobby was as deserted as the parking lot, a few flickering monitors for various computer screens displaying their data on Mishima Heavy. Nuku glanced around for a moment, then turned sharply on her heel, marching down one of the corridors immediately connected to the lobby.

  Shrugging, Terry followed, glancing disinterestedly at the occasional posters lining the walls, until they came to a set of steel double doors, a security station built into the wall at the side. Probably a card reader, though Terry's knowledge of those was limited, and it had been smashed into oblivion as some point, leaving a tangled mess of loose wiring and random parts. He grimaced, pushing the confused Nuku behind him.

  She stayed behind him, frowning mistrustfully, and followed him cautiously into the next room.

  Tables filled the room in orderly rows, their surfaces littered with a strange assortment of equipment and machinery. The floor was barely visible beneath the piles of assorted junk -- loose papers and stray parts pouring off of the tables to pool in untidy piles. But nothing dangerous, at the moment, and there was an intact security station of some kind near the center of a large, slightly curved wall.

  The base of the tower, Terry belatedly realized. And inset into the wall, a massive steel door, small dents marring the seams where it was sealed. Nuku pointed at the door. "There," she stated firmly.

  Terry grumbled, leaning close to examine the door. He had no clue how to operate the security device at its side -- it looked like the previous one. Like a card-reader. Sighing, he tapped at the door once, sounding it out for thickness and solidity, then drew himself into a more advantageous stance, and launched his fist at the door with a resolute, "HA!" The steel rang dully, but didn't give way.

  Wincing, he drew the hand back, shaking it. "Ow," he grumbled. "Okay, maybe there's another way in."

  A tall, lanky, dark-haired man pulled himself upright from one of the piles of amassed and discarded machinery, peering around blearily. Wearing a worn looking lab-coat, the man smacked his lips together tiredly, dislodging some of the devices that had somehow come to bury him. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice tired enough to suggest that he was about to fall asleep again. Blinking, he focused on Terry and Nuku, slowly waking himself up. "Oh, hey... you guys got any mayo?"

  Terry blinked in confusion. The man had an accent -- a horrible accent, obviously he spoke another language natively. "Um... no?" he ventured, confused.

  Nuku blinked, peering at the man in consternation. "Damn," he grumbled, sighing. "You know how hard it is to eat a sub with axle grease?"

  Glancing at Terry, Nuku asked, "What's a sub?"

  The man shrugged, riffling through the junk on the table and producing a large hoagie. "One of these," he explained.

  "Oh," she said, nodding. "Nuku-Nuku likes those better that way."

  Terry shook his head, leaning against the door and checking his watch. He didn't understand what was going on, but Nuku seemed like she might.

  The man gave out a put-upon sigh. "You know, in the training video, they made a big deal of how Mishima 'cares for the salaryman,' yet they can't even spend five bucks on a jar of Hellman's. You ever wonder why that is?"

  Nuku's demeanor drooped visibly. "Mama-san and Papa-san... they cared."

  Not seeming to have noticed, the man continued to grumble, "No, they gotta get Kroger brand mayo, which tastes like it might as well be axle grease."

  Terry sighed audibly, interrupting, "Look, can you open this door? Me and the girl kinda need to get in there, if you know what I mean."

  He raised an eyebrow, studying Terry. "What? Huh? Oh, yeah, that. What do you need in there for?" Before Terry could respond, the man glanced at Nuku, then grinned slyly. "Oh. I getcha." He offered a wink, pulling a keycard from one pocket.

  Terry held his tongue in check, waiting. Once the door was open, that problem, at least, would be dealt with, and the man could freely think whatever he wished. He stepped away from the door to allow the technician some room, and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

  "Durant," the man said, sliding his card through a reader and punching in some numbers. "From Jersey City. Why?" Terry got no chance to reply immediately, as the card-reader emitted an unpleasant grinding noise, and spat sparks, refusing to unseal the door.

  "Just curious. I'm Terry, and this is Nuku-Nuku." He winced at a secondary shower of sparks from the damaged security device. "Is it supposed to do that?"

  Durant scowled, turning to glare at the card-reader like an old nemesis. "Fine. That's how we'll play it," he muttered quietly, rifling through a stack of papers, schematics, old circuitry, and half-eaten donuts. Terry wouldn't have been entirely surprised to find that the heap of junk concealed a piece of the Armor of Mars. After a mere second or so, Durant produced a weighty, but much abused looking crowbar. He gave a feral grin, promising to descend on the hapless card-reader like the fury of heaven. "You really should have cooperated when you had the chance," he warned. "Now, I'm gonna have to make an example of you." He raised the crowbar high over his head and proceed to beat the keycard scanner like an overzealous thug.

  Terry dropped his face into his hands and sighed loudly. "Lovely," he grumbled. "This is just perfect."

  Durant stopped his merciless beating, gasping for breath. The once semi-functional scanner lay in pieces, stray wires occasionally sparking fitfully.

  And the door remained sealed.

  The technician dropped the crowbar into the sea of discarded machinery and schematics at his side, and glared at the tables littering the room. "And let that be a lesson to you all!" he screamed.

  Terry grimaced, grabbing the fallen crowbar before it could disappear. "Do you, ah... mind if I use this?" he asked.

  Shrugging, Durant responded, "Sure, have a go, though I don't see why you couldn't just use the supply closet."

  Rolling his eyes, Terry wedged the edge of the crowbar into the slim crack at the side of the door. Centering himself, he grinned, saying, "Now, I'll show you how a _real_ man opens a door." With that, he flung himself against the crowbar, promptly snapping it into two pieces.

  Regaining his balance, Terry stared at the two halves of the crowbar in dismay. Durant's jaw dropped and he stuttered, "Mo... Mookie?" The technician turned to look at Terry. "You... you BROKE Mookie?"

  Terry shuffled his feet nervously, and handed the pieces of the crowbar back to Durant. "Uh... sorry about that."

  Durant's eyes welled up with tears. "But... but... but..."

  Moving past both of the men, Nuku placed her palm against a panel on the side of the door opposite the scanner, which emitted a sound, 'ker-chunk', swinging open smoothly.

  Terry glanced at the doorway, resisting the urge to scream. "Hey, man... you need a little time alone with your... er... 'Mookie'?"

  Durant shook his head, growling, "Fine. FINE! Go to your precious love nest! See if I care!" Grumbling, he gathered up the pieces of his crowbar like a father cradling a sick child, clutching them to his chest and whispering words of encouragement.

  Terry glanced through the open door and shook his head. "Look, do yourself a favor and get to the harbor while you can. Those things'll probably be here soon."

  The technician paused his ministrations on his damaged crowbar. "Things? What things? More of you, you... Mookie-breakers?" He began to sob slightly after those words, still cradling his damaged tool.

  Nuku spoke up, waiting by the door, "Ranma-san says that they eat metal."

  Durant looked at Terry. "Huh. You must be more hard-assed than you look."

  Terry snorted, turning towards the open door, and shot back, "You'd better believe it."

  ***

  Two girls walked slowly through a deserted park, side by side. Both had long hair, and fair features. The taller of the two had a long fall of chestnut, while her companion's hair was a fiery-golden mane.

  The darker-haired girl eyed her companion for a moment, drawing to a halt before a tree. Their clothing was perfectly suited for a pair of normal girls walking around Tokyo on a normal day. Except, of course, they were neither normal girls, nor was it a normal day.

  The blonde looked askance at her for a moment, confused, and asked, "What's up, Makoto?"

  Makoto shrugged, running her fingers across the oak tree's bark. "Nothing," she said after a moment. "Nothing, Minako... just remembering my old sempai."

  "Oh? Did he like trees?"

  She shrugged, wondering what had brought back the memories of her long gone boyfriend so abruptly. "Not really. Well, maybe. I don't remember that part really well. Mostly I just remember his eyes... he had the most gorgeous eyes."

  "I wish I had a boyfriend like your old sempai!"

  Makoto snickered, shaking her head. "Who wouldn't?"

  "Say... what was his name, anyway?"

  Makoto sighed dreamily, already half-lost in fond remembrances. "Saotome Ranma..."

  ***

  A sudden shiver running across his spine, Ranma turned to Ryouko. "You feel that?" he asked.

  She glanced at him, and shrugged. "No," she said, pointing towards the ground below -- the ground where Ran-oh-ki had chased a car, and a reaver had run from Ranma earlier that same day. "You see that, though?"

  Ranma glanced down, observing the spot she indicated. A lone traveler in a worn brown duster, flapping against a faint breeze. "Hey... someone's wandering in. We should probably take him the harbor, or something."

  Ryouko shrugged, glancing upwards at the ships. Ranma followed her gaze, curious, and watched one of the Juraian dreadnoughts emit a pale beam of light. The light coalesced into a familiar shape, high above the ground.

  Ryo-oh-ki, Ryouko had named the creature -- her own partner -- while teaching Ranma the body duplication trick. "Looks like Yosho's back," was her only comment, as the starship sank slowly to the ground.

  Ranma glanced at her curiously. "What do you mean? And why did it come out of a ship, instead of just from the sky?"

  Ryouko shrugged, drifting towards it. "I don't know, but I'll meet back with you with Washuu. You go help whoever's down there."

  Grimacing, Ranma let himself drop, as Ryouko sped away. The dizzyingly exhilarating rush of air was just as sweet as it had been the first time -- his hair snapping behind him, while the wind shrieked past his streamlined bodysuit. The jewel near his ear maintained its position without any physical anchor, and Ran-oh-ki managed to stay on his shoulder, whiskers waving in the air pressure.

  He grinned at his partner impulsively. "You get a kick out of this, don't you?" Ranma accused.

  Ran-oh-ki glanced at Ranma for a moment before turning his attention back to the swiftly approaching ground. But that glance conveyed, to Ranma, a very strong sense of approval. "Okay," Ranma said, "we'll try this again some other time."

  Leaving very little room to catch himself, he flipped in the air, descending towards the Earth feet-first, loosing a raucous, "Whooo!" Slowing himself through the same mechanism that allowed him flight in the first place, he impacted with the ground -- hard. He had dealt with worse, though, so dismissed it. A small cloud of dust blossomed beneath his landing site, momentarily obscuring the outside world, until he rose.

  The dry breeze carried the majority of the grit away as he straightened, grinning at the newcomer. "Welcome to Tokyo," he greeted. "What brings you here?"

  The newcomer stared in a stunned silence for a long moment, giving Ranma time to take in his features. A boy of about his own height, wearing dusty green camouflage fatigues, a light brown duster, and a pair of goggles to banish the worst of the airborne grit. The breeze ruffled his medium-length shock of black hair, and he reached up to pull down his eyewear, revealing a flash of the white bandana that served to keep his unruly hair in check.

  Nodding to Ranma slowly, he tucked the goggles into a pouch on his waist, introducing himself, and rending Ranma speechless. "Uh... nice to meet you, I guess," he said. "My name is Saotome Ranma."

  ***

  Yosho glanced around as Ryo-oh-ki stopped some distance over the streets of Tokyo, sending him to Earth in front of a small restaurant. How the creature had known to home in on it was beyond Yosho, but Washuu stepped out of the building a moment later, nodding at him in approval.

  Likely the woman had known what he was going to do even before he had done it. He stifled a sigh at that, turning to look at Tsunami, who simply offered an encouraging smile for him, before gliding towards Washuu to whisper in low tones.

  Ryo-oh-ki remained in starship form, maintaining her position. From what Yosho remembered, the Home Fleet would be leaving in only a few minutes. Unless Ryouko wanted to take the two-week voyage back to Jurai, she would have to hurry to catch the Throne's portal.

  And Emperor or not, Tenchi wouldn't have a choice in the matter, either. He was emperor in name only, just yet. There would be the standard fanfare surrounding a once-in-several-centuries event, as the change in title as recognized by the Council and then the assorted Juraian nobles would attempt to coerce him one way or another... No, the way Yosho saw things, Tenchi would need every whit of the help that Ayeka, Tsunami, and even Ryouko could provide.

  He blinked at that, considering. And Ranma. Ranma could help too, by reputation alone. The boy by himself had destroyed more reavers than anything else, and letting the fact that Ryouko was just as powerful slip out would probably help Tenchi with more issues than Yosho could count.

  The nobles would back away when presented with something stronger than the reavers -- but more importantly -- something also much closer than the reavers.

   A threat planets away and a threat hanging off the Emperor's arm lovingly were two different things. He sighed, glancing upwards as Ryouko landed warily, looking around. She met Yosho's gaze and raised an eyebrow speculatively, the two speaking at the same instant, "Where's Ranma?"

  Washuu broke off her whispered conversation with Tsunami and glanced towards Ryouko to check. Not seeing Ranma, she grimaced, thumbing a small bracelet. "Ranma," she said sternly, "are you coming back?"

  The reply was audible, and very strained. "Um... yeah, Washuu... I'll... bring Ranma back. Uh... can you come with me?" The air cracked audibly, displaced as Ranma appeared over the street a moment later, an unfamiliar boy carried in his arms roughly -- and none too happily, to judge by his struggling.

  Ranma unceremoniously dropped the other boy, sending his assorted possessions tumbling. "Hey!" the boy growled. "What's the big idea, you idiot?"

  Shrugging, Ranma answered, "Was in a rush." He turned to Washuu, bobbing his head apologetically, and still hovering off of the ground. "Sorry about taking so long. Didn't want to leave this guy out here alone."

  Washuu sighed, shaking her head. "Well," she commented,  "I wouldn't want anyone to be abandoned out there alone, since the fleet's leaving so soon..."

  The boy snorted, shaking his head as he reclaimed his dropped possessions and stored them carefully in various pockets. Cologne emerged from the building, likely alerted by the yells as Ranma dropped the boy, and eyed him warily.

  Shaking her head again, Washuu asked, "What's your name?"

  "Saotome Ranma," the boy grumbled, finishing grabbing the last of his possessions. "Heir to the Saotome School of Anything Goes, Yamasen-ken." Dead silence rang out in response, each of the assembled people -- including the two boys Yosho recalled from that morning -- simply staring at the other boy as he shifted his feet nervously. "What?" he asked after a moment. "Is it something I said?"

  ***

  Cologne coughed pointedly, drawing some of attention away from the boy. "Well," she murmured, "it's nice to meet you, boy." She hobbled over to Ranma, perched on her staff, and patted him on the head affectionately. He glanced at her, but said nothing. "This is my son... Tanma."

  Ranma stared at her sharply again, then shrugged, Ran-oh-ki sighing loudly from his shoulder. "Um... yeah," he muttered, eyeing the other boy. "Well, we should be going, right?"

  Washuu nodded slowly, glancing at Tsunami one last time. "Yes," the scientist said. "R... Tanma, can you take Cologne and I to the harbor? Yosho, there could be some other people from Defense in the area, see if you can lead them towards the harbor, since the fleet will be leaving shortly." The redheaded scientist shot a pointed glance at Ryouko, who nodded once before ascending towards her ship, Tsunami simply disappearing in a muted flash after shooting a smile at Ranma. "So... Ranma. Are you going to help us, or are you just a refugee?"

  The boy grunted, tugging at his bandana for a moment, and shrugging. "Guess I'll fight," he grumbled, "but... I was looking for a scroll."

  Washuu rolled her eyes. "The city is huge. Where do you expect to find it?"

  He shifted his feet unhappily, staring at the reddening sky. "Well, I have to find the Umisen-ken somewhere. It's the companion for the Yamasen-ken, you see, and..." he trailed off, shrugging.

  Washuu stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Okay, well, if you're willing to help, stay with Yosho. Tanma? We're going to need your help under the bay."

  Ranma started at that, turning to look at Washuu in surprise. "Under the bay?" he asked. "You mean... under the water, on the bottom?"

  "Yes."

  He stared at her, frowning. "I'd rather stick with Yosho, really..."

  Washuu waggled a finger at him. "Unless you know a way to be two places at once, then sorry, we need your help at the bay."

  Ranma grinned, nodding. "Deal. Okay, let's go."

  With that, he swept the redheaded scientist into his arms, levitating a short distance off the ground, and glanced at Cologne pointedly. Smirking, the woman climbed atop his shoulder, while Ran-oh-ki jumped to the ground. And then, a slowly intensifying sensation of--

  --otherness swept through her.

  Dizzy, she nearly fell, catching herself at the last moment, while Ranma carefully set Washuu down on the slowly bobbing deck of a large ship. Ranma glanced around, smiling as if he were pleased with himself. Cologne jumped to the deck, studying the area for a moment. A giant collection of tents was scattered around, most of them looking battered and hastily erected.

  From around a larger tent, a pair of sharply dressed figures in matching fatigues, rifles carried carefully, approached, glancing at the trio in confusion. One stepped forward, reciting slowly as though from memory, "Do you speak English?"

  Cologne winced. The accent was atrocious. Washuu seemed to not notice or be affected, nor did Ranma, both of them simply nodding quietly. Lapsing back into his native tongue and relaxing -- very slightly -- the man asked, "What are you doing here? And how did you get here, anyway?"

  Ranma shrugged, explaining, "I just came to drop Washuu and the old ghoul off. I've going to get back to Yosho." Cologne turned to reprimand Ranma, who had answered in Japanese, but an echo of his words sounded an instant later, in perfect, concise English. He blinked, tugging at the blue gem on his ear and studying it for a moment before shrugging. "Anyway," he muttered, releasing the gem to float in the air before him.

  He stared at the gem for a moment, while the Americans watched in confusion. The edges of his body became indistinct and blurred, then there was a shift, and he faded out of sight. When he returned to Cologne's visual range a second later, he was standing next to... his cursed form. The two looked at each other, grinning raucously. But there was a difference. Ranma had a gem in his wrist, and a flare of blue on his skin-tight black costume, while his cursed form lacked any gems.

  Cologne opened her mouth to comment on that, when the redhead reached out, grabbing the gem Ranma had left in the air for a moment, and seemed to absorb it into her wrist. There was a faint humming sound, and a matching blue flare formed on her left wrist, to compliment the blue flare on Ranma's right. Done with that, the two Ranmas nodded, and the male disappeared while the redheaded Ranma looked at Washuu attentively, still hovering slightly over the deck. "Okay," she said slowly, seeming to adjust to something internally. "What now, Washuu, Old Ghoul?"

  Belatedly knocking the smaller red-haired female over the head, Cologne turned to Washuu, who looked impressed, and the Americans, who were shocked beyond words, jaws agape as they stared in stunned silence. "Yes, Washuu-san... what now?" Cologne asked, trying to regain her own bearing.

  Washuu frowned. "Well," she said, eyeing Ranma. "You could be a little more polite and ask me before you grab like that, but I am impressed." Shaking her head, she turned to the two uniformed men, and began speaking in English, "At any rate, my name is Washuu Hakubi, and I need to speak with whoever you have in charge."

  ***

  Mousse made no obvious outward responses to Ranma returning as suddenly as he had disappeared, grinning at the assembled defenders. Ryouga, on the other hand, gawked openly. How had Mousse not reacted to that?

  It was strange enough seeing Ranma float -- he hadn't landed for more than a moment _yet_ -- but the vanishing trick? The way he had passed through the chains earlier? It made his head hurt to think about.

  "You know," he rumbled quietly to Mousse, "we should get on his good side. I don't think we could beat him if we pissed him off, now."

  Mousse regarded Ryouga skeptically. "This just occurred to you now? I thought the levitation from earlier, and the fact that the red-haired woman with him said he's already killed three of the monsters himself was a pretty good clue. Considering that his father died to take out one..."

  Ryouga frowned thoughtfully. "You have a point," he admitted. "What was that attack he used, though?"

  "Something like 'poison snake deep hole blow,'" Mousse muttered. "Why?"

  The boy who had named himself, 'Ranma,' whipped his head around to stare at Mousse. "What did you say?" he demanded. "That's the name of one of the Yamasen-ken school's attacks! Where did you see it?"

  Mousse and Ryouga glanced at each other for a moment, then shrugged, ignoring the boy. Ryouga thumbed the radio on his belt to life, and glanced around. "Well," he grumbled, "what do we do now?"

  Ranma turned to Yosho for guidance, and the others shortly followed suit. Yosho coughed delicately, glancing heavenward for a moment, at the mass of Juraian ships as they were bathed in the warm light of the setting sun. "I think," he stated slowly, "that we should look around to make sure that everyone in the area got away safely, and generally move southward, towards the harbor."

  Nodding, Ranma floated upwards, the small furry creature at his feet pausing to bare his teeth at Ryouga before jumping to Ranma's arms. "I'll scout around," he said, patting the creature on the head. "I'll keep close by."

  Ryouga shook his head, watching Ranma drift upwards and glance around attentively.

  ***

  Ranma swept over the streets quickly, circling the slower force moving beneath him. He felt his own senses were dulled, dealing with being in two places at once, but _she_ was simply trailing Washuu and Cologne across the deck of the large ship in the harbor.

  Ran-oh-ki's senses filled in where his own lapsed, so he gave the majority of them to his other half. It was odd, actually being in two places at once. Ryouko said it was made easier by a very slight change between the two forms, something subtle in the musculature, or the eyes, or the ears...

  But she also said that the range and practicality were limited. Ranma guessed that by splitting himself into cursed and uncursed, and using the extra gem, he magnified his ability to use the trick into an effective weapon.

  His partner stirred, stretching his neck out and allowing his whiskers to twitch as he scanned and searched nearby. He made a soft mewling noise to alert Ranma, unnecessary with their senses shared, as they were, and Ranma dropped down to the street with the others.

  Ryouga and Mousse remained quiet and respectful, watching him attentively, while the boy claiming his name glowered. Yosho glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "I found something," Ranma explained before they could ask. "Close by. It's not a reaver, so I'm going to check it out, and be right back."

  Yosho nodded. "Okay, Ranma. Don't take too long," the older man warned.

  Ranma spared a nod as he flew towards the life-sign that Ran-oh-ki sensed. The others were heading south, towards the harbor. The sun sat heavily on the horizon, large and red, while the Juraian fleet above rose slowly, dwindling upwards into the sky. Ranma watched them for a pair of heartbeats, before reminding himself that time was limited.

  Accelerating sharply, he zeroed in the life force that his partner was detecting. He halted suddenly, his heart giving an unsteady shudder when he realized where the signal was coming from.

  The Tendo home. He swallowed fearfully, staring at the building.

  It seemed so unchanged, so... welcoming, somehow. But in his heart, he knew that it wasn't. Kasumi at least had treated him as she always had, and yet...

  Bolstering himself, he stepped forward. If it were Kasumi or Nabiki... he could take them to the fleet in the harbor, and be done with it. If it was his mother -- If it were Nodoka, he corrected himself. If it were Nodoka, then...

  He wasn't certain what he would do, but Ran-oh-ki made a soothing noise, calming him.

  With that, he stepped through the unlocked door, calling out, "Hello? Is anyone here?"

  Ran-oh-ki's senses already told him the answer to that question, but he felt the need to ask anyway.

  There was no reply. Ran-oh-ki directed him outside, and he followed their shared senses. Outside and upwards.

  He exited the house through the back entrance, which had been left open, and floated upwards to the edge of the roof, calling out again, "Hello?"

  A voice answered him shortly, "Hello, Ranma... I didn't think I'd see you again any time soon."

  He blinked, drawing slightly away as he regarded the lean man on the roof, gazing at the sunset. "Tendo-san?"

  Soun sighed, staring at the sunset. "Just Tendo, Ranma. That's what your father called me, you know..." The man broke off, shifting a polearm near him, and Ranma recognized the naganita that was the Tendo family's traditional weapon at Soun's side. "I heard... I heard from Nabiki before she left... what you did. And maybe they would have been safe anyway, but you took care to save Akane."

  Ranma said nothing, simply nodding, while his partner remained cautiously silent.

  "Anyway," Soun continued, "I'm... I'm staying here. This is my place, now..."

  "Tendo-san? It's not going to be safe here for very long..."

  The man laughed at that, only a slight trace of bitterness sounding. "No... no, Ranma, it's not. And that's fine. I don't have anything left to take care of for myself, you see. Two of my daughters are gone, taken away to safety by whoever it is that showed up." He pointed at the ships, the last of which was just disappearing into the sky. "The other was sent away to a safer place even before that. And I'm left here, in the home that I built for my wife, all those years ago." He sighed, smiling.

  Ranma closed his mouth slowly, finding himself without words for the situation.

  "But... I'm done, Ranma. I'm tired... tired of being weak, being a coward... the master left." He changed the subject abruptly. "I don't know where. I suppose I don't care, really. All I had left was a friend, and he died earlier today. You... you will find something, though, Ranma. You're young yet. But I'm an older man... and I'm not going to run anymore. I'm going to do what I should have done years ago, and what your father had the courage to finally do today. I'm going to stand up and protect this home to my dying breath."

  Ranma nodded slowly, his hands dropping to hang at his sides. "Yes," he managed. "I... understand, Tendo."

  Soun smiled softly, climbing to his feet and whipping the naganita around himself with startling alacrity and deftness. "It's been too long," he mused. "Too long since I've truly fought." He shook his head, turning to regard Ranma levelly, lit from behind by the dying light of the sun. "You've listened to an old man rambling long enough, Ranma. Your father left me something, and I think you should have it."

  He rummaged in his gi for a moment, producing a much worn and tattered scroll. "This scroll," he explained, "carries a school your father never passed on to you. I think he'd want you to have it now, though. It's not complete," he warned, "but I think you can manage to learn it anyway, should you want to."

  Ranma nodded numbly, accepting the scroll in wonder. "Thank... thank you, Tendo."

  Soun grinned warmly, shaking his head, naganita slung over one shoulder. "Thank you, Ranma. It was my firm hope that some day you would become a Tendo, though you may not have known... but what will be, will be. You should go now. Farewell, Ranma-kun."

  Stunned, Ranma could only nod, clutching the scroll that bore his father's legacy to his chest as he floated over the roof. "Tendo..." he said slowly. "Are... I mean..." He bowed his head, unsure of what words were appropriate. "Thank you, Tendo. Thank you, and... if I ever see your daughters again..." he trailed off, wondering. Would he? Would he see them again? "Farewell, Tendo."

  With that, he drifted away backwards, south and east, watching the sun frame the old warrior atop his home.

  When the distance was as great as Ranma supposed the man could shout, the Tendo patriarch rose, and saluted Ranma with his naganita. Ranma swallowed, unable to help himself, and wiped at the moisture in his eyes before turning away.

  ***

  "... Mr. Norris. So if you could escort the civilian fleet, we would be very grateful."

  The military man nodded, glancing around his office for a moment before replying to Washuu, "That would make the situation a little easier for us to bear, Miss Hakubi... are you the representative of the civilian defense force?"

  Washuu winced, then nodded slowly. "Yes, I suppose I am. Seta left, and he was in charge, so..." Cologne smirked, but said nothing from her position near Ranma.

  Norris nodded again, looking at a sheet of paper before him. "Well,'' he said, "I hope that we can work together, but I'm afraid if you've come to us for protection, we can't offer much."

  Ranma shifted uncomfortably, most of her attention elsewhere, but in her split-state, it was nearly like being two separate people... nearly. She did wonder at the fact that -- as she figured it -- the man was speaking English, and she could understand it. Speak it, too, thanks to the gem.

  Washuu was just full of little surprises. Ranma briefly wondered what she would come up with next, but forced herself to pay attention to the situation at hand. One way or another, Washuu had negotiated to have the U.S. soldiers join their own crew on the trip to China, which was just as well. They likely wouldn't fare very well against the reavers alone.

  The redheaded scientist smiled warmly, putting one arm around Ranma and pulling her close. "Don't worry," the scientist stated. "We've got a bit of an edge against the reavers already. I can try and see what I can do to modify your current weapons, but right now, I need access to your communications arrays."

  Norris frowned doubtfully. "Why?"

  Releasing Ranma for the moment, Washuu produced the computer screen she was fond of, and indicated some value that Ranma couldn't identify. Apparently, neither could Norris. Washuu sighed, explaining, "We've got access to an orbital positronic laser cluster. Nuku-san might be able to control it, but--"

  "Who is 'Nuku-san'?" Norris interrupted.

  Washuu gestured to Ranma, smirking. "Ranma's daughter."

  Ranma snapped her neck around at Washuu, and rolled her eyes.

  Norris frowned, but nodded slowly. "And this will let you destroy the 'reavers', then?"

  Washuu hedged for a moment. "That's not certain yet. It should buy us some time, but we don't know how much power is there, and until I can access the diagnostics remotely, we don't know what kind of power they can output."

  The captain's face twisted into a sour grimace. "Fine," he muttered. "Go ahead, if you think it will help. But what we really need is a long-term solution to destroy these enemies, and a one-shot cannon isn't going to do the trick."

  Washuu gestured to Ranma, who nodded, summoning her blades. The captain nearly leapt out of his seat, staring in shock at her. Ranma smiled, letting the blades vanish, and rising to float a slight distance off the ground, tucking her feet beneath her as though she were sitting. "I can handle a few," Ranma tossed out casually.

  "What are those?" the captain managed after a minute.

  Washuu sighed, "Focused energy in a quantum matrix -- near-anti-matter filling a frail energy structure. When something is struck with the structure it can behave either as a dense solid, or an explosive force. You'll notice that generally when the beams are longer, pockets of energy form opposite the 'blade' of the weapon to balance out the internal forces more easily."

  Ranma blinked, trying to fathom what the scientist was speaking of. Norris raised an eyebrow speculatively. "Can you manufacture those for my crew? Or do you have a more versatile piece of equipment that does the same thing?"

  "No," the scientist said firmly. "The ability to create them is genetic. So only Ranma can do it."

  Norris's face fell immediately.

  "I might, however, be able to come up with something else. I'd need access to a lab, and it will need to wait until after we've cleared the harbor and gotten the laser working." Washuu turned to Ranma abruptly. "Ranma? The Juraian ships are leaving, so if the reavers are going to be moving..." she trailed off, biting her lower lip.

  Ranma grinned cockily, glad to have some attention from the redhead. "Not a problem," she declared. "I'll go down and keep an eye out."

  Washuu nodded her thanks silently, as Ranma sank through the ship, deck by deck, and from there, into the space phased through the cold water of the bay.

  ***

  Terry paced around the large, circular room, fearful of touching any equipment, and wishing that he had thought to ask the technician for help. The room was ringed in rows of quietly humming machinery, replete with flashing lights, small screens with endless columns of marching data that he couldn't even begin to comprehend... And the giant glass tube in the center of the room, the upper regions dangling with various pieces of cabling that looked more like they belonged in some ecchi anime than any facet of reality.

  Terry took off his hat, and scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Okay," he said slowly, glancing around. "Maybe I can get someone on the radio to tell me how to work this thing." He frowned, trying to remember anything he knew about more complex machines. Red buttons were bad. Glass shielding over a button was there for a reason. And a very important one, yellow and black warning tape meant 'Don't touch!'

  The problem with that was that nearly all of the buttons he could see were either behind glass shielding that could be flipped up, were red, or were surrounded with yellow and black warning tape. He stared straight up at the ceiling, sighing.

  Nuku watched him silently, and he shook his head, turning to study the rows of switches labeled -- oddly -- in English. Switches weren't as bad as buttons, he reasoned. A switch could be reversed, after all. Despite his knowledge of English, the meanings eluded him. "'Phase dispersion'? What the heck _is_ this stuff?" Turning a beseeching gaze towards the young woman, he asked, "Do you know how to run this thing? I know that we're supposed to get Washuu to control it, but I'm afraid to touch the thing."

  She nodded, and her ear-like sensors popped upwards. "Yes," she stated firmly. "Eimi-chan? Are you still here?" she asked, much less confidence in her voice.

  Lights suddenly brightened, various displays flickering and resetting, and more of the machinery whirred to life, making Terry's hackles rise. He didn't understand it very well, and he didn't like it much, either. A sweet, childish voice with a faint edge of malice echoed from a concealed speaker system, "Hello, Atsuko. I didn't think you would come back."

  Nuku fidgeted for a moment, then bowed her head. "Nuku-Nuku is sorry she ran away, Eimi-chan."

  A faint laugh filled the room from the speakers, making Terry wonder where this 'Eimi' were hidden. "That's fine, Atsuko. The coding that allows me to be upset with you was damaged before I was transferred to this facility."

  Sighing, the girl walked towards the glass tube in the center of the room. "Nuku-Nuku... Nuku-Nuku needs to use the gift that Papa-san and Mamma-san left for her."

  Eimi seemed to brood on the question for a bit, the lights dimming as the silence bore on, until they brightened again suddenly. "Very well, Atsuko. Enter the terminal so that we can verify the final decryption sequence."

  Terry blinked, as Nuku stripped off her outer clothing, leaving her in a tight, form-fitting bodysuit, bearing a worrisome hole in the center of her stomach, and revealing what looked all-too-much like real skin to Terry's eyes. "She's a robot?" he murmured to himself. "Hard to believe..."

  "Not entirely," Eimi answered, as the glass cylinder rotated halfway, folding partially into itself to allow Nuku access. "Atsuko is more correctly termed a cyborg. While mechanical in design, her body is organic in function, and her original brain is purely organic tissues reinforced with a complex and redundant suite of processors to monitor and convert the signals from her brain to her body. Her physiology is quite complex, and the term 'robot' is simply too simple to convey--"

  "I get the idea," Terry grumbled, having been lost long into the voice's spiel. "You're a computer, right?"

  "That analysis is most apt. My original perimeters were substantially altered when my initial form failed in a test against the current threat."

  "Uh-huh," Terry said distractedly, watching with a worried fascination as the various connections began to drop from the roof of the glass cylinder, linking up with various points on Nuku's body. Her hands, her elbows, her legs, one over her nose and mouth -- even one at a point in the middle of her lower back. The final pair of cables, though, extended downward, to firmly clamp onto the girl's ear-like sensors.

  Terry swallowed, as the glass tube swiveled, sealing itself, and slowly began to flood with a dark green fluid. "Is this normal?" Terry asked, concerned.

  "Yes," the computer reassured him. "Would you like to see the systems she is going to access?"

  Terry shrugged. "Don't have anything better to do."

  "Very well." A large monitor on the wall, previously spewing out screen after screen of numbers, flickered, switching to a satellite's-eye view of Japan, Tokyo situated in the center.

  The screen slowly focused inward, raising the level of detail and giving Terry the sensation that he was falling. He looked away for a moment, nauseous. "Woah," he mumbled, turning back when the image had steadied, focused on the harbor. "Great, this is... this is good, right?"

  "Top of the line," Eimi said proudly. "There are fourteen decryption cycles remaining before we can activate the weapons, however. I estimate that it will take about twenty minutes, thirty two seconds."

  Terry nodded, taking a seat on an abandoned chair. "Well, that was easy. So now we wait?"

  "Yes. Could I have your name, please?"

  "Bogard. Terry Bogard."

  "Pleased to meet you, Bogard-san. My name is Eimi. Would you like me to sing you a song? Kyusaka-sensei taught it to me..."

  ***

  -- End Chapter 5 Part A --