Process of Elimination -- Chapter Seven -- Part Two

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

    Additional tinting provided by: Takada Yuuzou, and A.D.Vision (Bannou Bunka Nekomusume Nuku-Nuku), and Takahashi, Viz (Inu-Yasha). 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 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.

    -----------------------------

    "I remember the Battle of Shanghai just fine. It was just after the first time I ever met that 'Ranma' guy, and he made some of the hard-asses in Mishima look tame. Boy was an animal, I tell you, he didn't stop at _nothing_ to kill a reaver. Oh, nothing, your, uh, honorable exalted eminence, uh, sir, just thought I'd mention that. You see, there was this bee near the accelerator..." [Message truncated].

    Paul Durant -- Hearing with Galaxy Police, case number TER2-656278 for a traffic violation.


    Raising a pale, ancient porcelain teacup to her lips, and sipping softly, Funaho allowed herself to smile. "I think I rather like that boy," she commented, one eye on the monitor spying on Tenchi's meeting. She glanced briefly at Misaki, who frowned doubtfully.

    "I agree that change needs to be made," the woman said, rubbing at her brow worriedly, "but aren't you the slightest bit worried that your great-grandson is getting in over his head?"

    Funaho shrugged, sipping at her tea again, and then adding, "We will see, I suppose. I think that he will do better than you give him credit. He is attempting to do this without the aid of Tsunami, when he could simply ask her to change all as he sees fit. That, more than anything else, should be respected."

    The other woman's eyes dimmed, and she fumbled for her own teacup, frowning once more. "Yes... and what of Tsunami, and more importantly, my daughter?"

    Funaho set her teacup down, turning to regard Misaki levelly. "Don't worry overly much for Sasami. Tsunami is more than capable of taking care of her." She hid a small smirk behind her wrist, adding, "And don't frowns so, you know you haven't the face for it."

    Misaki giggled, unable to keep from smiling, and shook her head. "Azusa is going to be furious, isn't he?" she asked.

    "I imagine so," Funaho commented archly, as she watched Ayeka faint through the screen before her.

    ***

    Tenchi helped Ayeka to her feet, sitting the young woman on a smaller and lower padded chair before returning to the table and regarding Genoh again. "Ryouko," he said, glancing at the woman, "please take care of her."

    Ryouko pouted, but drifted from her seat and did as he bade her, leaving Tenchi alone at the table with the Laruma. "Ah," Genoh said, collecting his wits somewhat. "If you insist... since your... fiancee?" he paused, and Tenchi managed a slight nod, watching both of the women from the corner of his eyes. They elected to not react, and he relaxed, as Genoh continued, "Um... At any rate, my understanding of such is that the emperor is awarded certain lands, such as the First -- the great tree that contains the palace, and all the land beneath it -- and... there are other properties as well. Gardens, sundry smaller palaces, the land where the Council rests, the royal vineyards..."

    "That sounds promising," Tenchi noted when Genoh trailed off. "I want to give you a property that allows you to at least make some money to use towards the Council. The gardens are probably useless, but tell me about the vineyards?"

    "The, um, royal vineyards. There are four of them, probably about seventy kilometers square each. One for something much like your grapes, one for barley, and two for rice."

    "Okay," Tenchi said agreeably, "so, if I were to give you the vineyards, could you work with that? Would it be enough for you to get a foothold into the Council, and -- hopefully -- give me an ally?"

    "Er... Yes, I would think so, since the vineyards make wines that the common populous and even most nobles are not normally able to get... I imagine that could make enough money to offset any expenses we incur on our own..." He shook his head, as his younger brother tugged at his sleeve questioningly.

    Tenchi raised an eyebrow, and motioned for the boy to speak.

    At Genoh's nod, Karau haltingly said, "Assuming that anyone's willing to buy wine from the Laruma."

    The emperor frowned darkly, and muttered, "I'll do what I can, but I can't begin to imagine where I'd begin dealing with that."

    Genoh shook his head, mumbling, "With... with your help, Tenchi, we may be able to resolve some of those problems on our own."

    Ryouko warned, "You know, it's going to look a lot like a bribe, Tenchi. Well, it is, really, but you should probably try and be sneakier about it."

    Tenchi frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay," he said, "what would you suggest?"

    "Sell the land," Ayeka managed. "For a percentage of whatever profits the Laruma generate on their trade routes."

    Genoh nodded quickly, saying, "That is most certainly agreeable."

    Tenchi grinned hopefully, and shrugged. "I know this is about as far as you get from a proper political agreement, but it all boils down to this; if you're willing to help me out, I'll do what I can to help you out in exchange. Sound fair?"

    Genoh nearly fell out of his chair laughing. "Fair? Fair?" he asked, his voice bordering on hysteria. "For over sixteen generations of my family, we are treated as outcasts and scum, and when we resign ourselves to this fate, someone who can make a difference chooses to do so--" He cut himself off abruptly, schooling his expression, and rose to his feet. "Tenchi, who is both Amatera and Masaki, I, Laruma Genoh pledge my unswerving loyalty to you, in exchange for seeing a Laruma on the Council before my dying day. Grant us that one thing, and all Laruma will be more than proud to call you an ally, and more than that, a friend."

    Tenchi rose slowly, and nodded at Genoh's deep bow -- echoed by Karau's. When Genoh straightened from the bow, he added pleasantly, "And the Laruma never forget their friends."

    ***

    "See?" Funaho said mildly over her tea. "He's just made himself his first ally!"

    Misaki had one hand pressed to her stomach, steadying herself nervously. "Funaho, Azusa will be beyond furious! First his son hands over the seat of Emperor after less than a full minute of bearing the title, and then Tenchi gives the royal vineyards over to... the Laruma?"

    "Change is not without cost," Funaho noted happily. "Drink some tea, it should help settle your stomach." Funaho changed the subject abruptly, asking, "Misaki, tell me... do you know what the Amatera mean to the Laruma?"

    Misaki nodded unhappily.

    "That's the highest and most honorable title they can call someone by -- comparing them to the Amatera that allowed them to escape in the first place. With them as an ally he can go far."

    "If he's careful," Misaki warned. "As Ayeka sadly demonstrates, most of my family will not react well to these plans."

    Unobserved by the participants within the ship, but tended carefully by the Ginraii workers in the vacuum beyond the Throne, the two massive monopoles continued at their awesome speeds. Carefully adjusted by the smaller ships, they slowly shifted in alignment and heading until the proper insertion vectors were reached, and then they were sunk, deliberately, into the swirling gas of Cyaga.

    The constructs protruded nearly ten thousand miles above the surface of the gas giant, leaving it to look like a child's top, as all of the Ginraii ships convened in a convoy, half of them immediately heading off towards parts unknown, the other half towards Terra Two.

    ***

    Pleasantly full, but still desiring to know more about Ranma, Ami loitered with the others who had attended the impromptu feast. She frowned, suddenly realizing that the boy in question was missing. The redheaded scientist who had named herself Washuu excused herself shortly, calling Ranma's daughter away with her to tend to her own projects.

    She couldn't quite muster the courage to ask Washuu about Ranma directly, though a slow plan to ask about her computer formed, and perhaps from there, more about the boy himself. Usagi, doting on Mamoru, emerged shortly from the bowels of the ship, and made a beeline towards the leftovers. Makoto excused herself to look after Ryu, and Minako elected to follow.

    Ami wandered a short distance away from Usagi and Mamoru, while Ranma's grandmother and the girl made light conversation. Hotaru watched, attentively silent, and Yosho sat midway between Washuu and the remainder of the crowd, apparently meditating. Rei took only a moment to follow Ami, sitting nearby and asking, "So, why are you sitting here?"

    The girl smiled at her friend, answering Rei, "Just thinking, really."

    "About Ranma, right?"

    Ami blushed very faintly. "Ah, yes," she confessed.

    "Oh!" Rei exclaimed. "You like him?"

    "I..." Ami trailed off, struggling. "Not like that, Rei-chan. I'm just very curious. It strikes me that there is much more to the story than Hibiki-san has told us, and I'm curious about it."

    "Ah," Rei said, calming somewhat. "Well, I'm not certain, but I'd guess that you could just ask him."

    "True," Ami noted, "and I feel it would be unwise to try and go behind his back and find out..."

    ***

    He found what he was looking for -- almost -- when he stumbled across Ryouga and Mousse. A pair of unlikely friends if there ever was, but necessity was the mother of invention. Or something like that. He dimly remembered his father spouting something like that off -- the man knew far too many parables for his own good -- at some point in the past.

    "Hey," he said, causing both of them to spin in surprise and stare at him.

    "Ranma?" Mousse asked, one again clad in his robes, instead of the borrowed tee-shirt and jeans from Norris. "Is there something I can help you with?"

    Ranma shrugged, glancing momentarily towards the shore, visible in the distance as the fleet continued along. "Yeah," he said. "There is, actually. I had some clothes that I borrowed from Washuu's friend, but... uh, well, they got left in the truck we drove into Tokyo on, and my own stuff is... well, if a reaver hasn't eaten it, it's probably with the girls."

    Ryouga winced initially, then masked a snicker. "No clothes, Ranma?"

    "Yeah," Ranma deadpanned. "Unless I want to go around like this all the time, and I don't, because people look at me _real_ funny when I'm a girl." To emphasize the point, he shifted forms again, posing for a heartbeat with his wrist upon his forehead, like some distraught maiden from the cover of a cheap manga.

    Ryouga choked, eyes bulging, then looked away, while Mousse simply laughed. "I think I have a little sympathy for you, Ranma," Mousse said after calming, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his robe. "What are you looking for, exactly?"

    "Uh... A shirt? Maybe some pants? Something like what I used to wear, I guess." Ranma shrugged uncomfortably.

    "Hmm," Ryouga mused, having calmed himself, "I think my clothes will fit you, if you want to borrow a shirt and pants."

    Mousse grinned, shaking his head. "I have a few spare robes, but I think my pants would be a little small for you. Err, generally."

    Ranma rolled her eyes, saying, "I'll take whatever you don't need, until I can find some place to get new clothes."

    In short order, Ranma was wearing a spare pair of Ryouga's pants, and one of Mousse's robes. She eyed herself dubiously, then shifted forms, finding that the garments accommodated him easily in either form. "That should do it," he mused. "Thanks, guys, I owe you one."

    Ryouga hastily shook his head, "No, Ranma, I think we owe you one." Mousse nodded gravely, the brief mirth already having faded.

    Shrugging uncomfortably, Ranma dismissed them, muttering, "It's nothing, really. Let's not worry about it."

    A long, awkward silence followed, as the three boys struggled for something to speak of. "So," Ryouga managed after the silence had become almost too much to bear, "how are you doing, Ranma?"

    Grimacing, Ranma scratched behind one ear, then shrugged. "Okay, I guess," he allowed. "Mostly I'm just kinda confused. And tired." He furrowed his brow in thought, staring at the deck. "You know, I don't think I've had hardly an entire ten minutes to myself since this all started."

    Ryouga grinned, scratching his head at the lower edge of his bandana and nodding. "I think I know what you mean, Ranma. Things have been really busy ever since..." The boy coughed, trailing off, and looking away. "Hey," he said after a moment, "you never really told us about how you met Hakubi-san." He glanced back at Ranma, curiosity evident in his gaze. "How did you meet her, anyway?"

    Ranma shrugged offhandedly, sinking to the deck to sit, joined by Mousse and Ryouga a half-second later. "It's not that great of a story, really, but the first thing I can remember..."

    ***

    Washuu hummed softly to herself, tapping away at the console. Long cables connected her computer to the second of the positronic laser satellite, searching for reparable damage, while a few smaller cables connected to Nuku's ear-like sensors. For her part, the girl watched the senshi talk quietly where the remnants of the earlier lunch still sat.

    Yosho loitered about casually, appearing relaxed, but Washuu suspected that the man still didn't entirely trust the girls. Herself, Washuu was at a loss for how easily Ranma could forgive what had been done to him, but then, he had gotten along with Ryouko after her apology -- which, knowing the woman, was clumsy at best -- and even forgiven the scientist herself for what she had done to him. Turning him into something else, something not entirely human, and completely without his permission.

    She absently tapped a key on the keyboard, using Nuku's built-in access codes to read the libraries of data and targeting information on the satellites. More information on them lay within Nuku's own data storage, along with a fragmented copy of the control program.

    Further analysis revealed that the control program was once part of something greater -- possibly a primitive artificial intelligence, but whatever it was, it was lost at that point. Still, the rudimentary control and access functions would be enough to get through all of the satellite's security. Another key press captured the first and second units into the small spinning disks that were supporting them, folding and compressing the space to fit within a device the size of a hockey-puck.

    Ignoring that for the moment, she downloaded all of the relevant information, and studied it briefly. "My!" she commented, drawing Yosho's attention, and garnering a curious glance from Nuku.

    "What happened, mama-san?"

    Washuu glanced at Nuku, then scowled. "Drat. I spent all that time brushing your hair, and... ah, well, I was just checking the logs on the satellites, to see how many reavers they neutralized. Of the reavers attacking Tokyo before the laser's automated systems shut it down due to overheating..." She frowned, wondering what would require being replaced to offset the heat damage -- and to prevent it from happening in any kind of handheld weapon she created. "At any rate, the computers report that the lasers have destroyed an additional six reavers."

    Nuku brightened instantly, and Yosho nodded, looking pleased. "That's good, right?" Nuku asked. "Should Nuku-Nuku tell Ranma-papa-san?"

    Washuu laughed, shaking her head, and carefully disconnected the cabling from Nuku's ear-sensors. "Don't worry about it too much. Just leave him alone, for now. You can tell him when he comes back."

    Nuku pouted, grumbling loudly, "Where is papa-san? Nuku-Nuku is bored."

    Yosho coughed politely, interjecting, "Probably taking care of something important, Nuku. Don't worry about it so much.

    ***

    Had Nuku still been tethered loosely to Washuu's computer, she might have noticed, but as it was, she scurried off to play with her friends rather than stay. Yosho and Washuu were too distracted by her to observe, and thus, Ran-oh-ki was left alone with the satellites.

    His first stop was one of the hockey-puck sized disk, though he was faintly aware of the fact that it contained folded space, and because of that, likely to contain even more minerals and -- hopefully -- tasty metal than most of the things he had found to eat. Sniffing delicately, he seized the first of the disks in his teeth, tossed it upwards into the air, and lunged after it, swallowing it whole with only a small modicum of difficulty.

    It wasn't until he had swallowed the second that he began to question the wisdom of his actions. An inarticulate scream of rage and one swift kick later he was tumbling off of the ship, sure that it had been unwise of him to eat the disks.

    ***

    Ranma teleported without thought, catching his partner in midair. He blinked, wondering at his actions, and floated up to the upper level of the ship, shocked to see Washuu yelling and screaming obscenities, stomping on the deck angrily.

    And two of the satellites were missing.

    Frowning, Ranma teleported to Washuu's side, causing the woman to jump in surprise. "Ack! Don't do that!" she protested. Noticing Ran-oh-ki, the woman glowered, shaking her fist threateningly and losing her surprised demeanor. Ranma could feel Ran-oh-ki's fear through the connection with his partner, until the creature hurled itself from his hands and sank through the deck of the ship.

    "Don't come back here, you stupid, stupid, mangy, flea-bitten, ugly, useless, _stupid_ rat!" Washuu screamed at the deck that Ran-oh-ki had passed through, then stalking over to stomp on the spot angrily.

    "Um," Ranma said, unnerved by the scientist's fury, "I'll... I'll just go and wait over there. And Ran-oh-ki may not be a very bright rat, but he's not mangy."

    "Of course not," Washuu grumbled, seething as she finally gave up stomping on the deck. "He's just _stupid_!"

    "Right... What did he do?" Ranma asked, already guessing.

    "He ate the satellites!" Washuu nearly screamed. "He ate on of the best weapons at our disposal! Now I can't use them to build more weapons, I have to build them from scratch! Do you have any idea how long it takes to build a positronic laser from scratch with the technology that I have available here? I don't think I _can_! That stupid rat..." she trailed off, composing herself somewhat. "At any rate, I've got a lot more work ahead of me now. Ranma, it's not your fault, it's your partner's fault. And he'd better stay our of my way for a good long while, if he wants to keep on living!"

    The boy merely stared at the redhead, stunned. "Oh," he said quietly. "Well, if there's anything I can do to help, just ask."

    Washuu laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "Can you find me a cryogenic research facility to get me the gasses I'll need for the laser? The mirrors and glass I'll need for the lenses? The... oh, don't bother, Ranma. Thank you for asking, but you don't need to bother. Just... just keep your partner out of trouble."

    With that, she marched to her computer, and began typing, swearing under her breath at some calculation or another.

    Ranma frowned, shaking his head. "You messed up this time, partner," he whispered softly, knowing Ran-oh-ki could still sense his thoughts. "I'm not mad, but unless you think you can fix this, we're going to be in a whole world of trouble."

    Yosho nodded very subtle agreement, watching Washuu out of the corner of his eyes. "Hey," Ranma announced more loudly. "I'm going to go out for a bit. Washuu said I should relax."

    The older man nodded once more, still watching Washuu covertly. "Be careful," he replied absently.

    Ranma grinned. "I will," he said softly, teleporting away.

    ***

    Norris walked sedately down the central access corridor of the ship that had once been his own. The Louisiana. The ship was probably as neatly run by Patterson as it had been when he ran it himself, but Norris felt the need to take a short break and escape from the problems plaguing him of late.

    Patterson held a checklist in one hand, and a pen in the other, prepared to jot down notes if Norris felt the need to comment.

    Norris preferred silence for the moment, enjoying the relatively peaceful aspects of a well-run and battle-ready ship at sea. The men they passed nodded politely, completely at ease, which was odd considering their situation.

    They progressed all the way to the final section of the ship -- one seldom entered by either of them. The nuclear engine control room. "I'll admit," Patterson said, "I haven't run an inspection on the engine since command was handed to me just yesterday, but I trust that conditions have not changed significantly."

    So saying, the pair of men entered the command room, and both froze stock still.

    "Captain?" Norris asked primly.

    "Yes, Commodore?" Patterson responded, staring fixedly at the room.

    "When does 'not changed significantly' cover chroming the entire engine room?"

    "I do not know, Commodore."

    "And replacing all of the controls with stylized welded-chain wheels?"

    "I do not know, Commodore."

    "And the fuzzy dice hanging from the nuclear warning sign?"

    "I do not know, Commodore."

    "And, why the _hell_ is a giant, 'R.C.' emblazoned on the core?"

    Distracting both of the men, the only occupant of the room paused, suddenly noticing them. The technician furrowed his brow, and said, "I happen to _like_ R.C. It's better than Mishima, if you ask me."

    Norris sighed, hanging his head. "Oh. You. Never mind, Patterson. This explains everything."

    Durant placed his hands on his hips, scowling at the men. "Who said you guys could come in here, anyway?"

    Coughing, Patterson growled, "I would like to know what _you_ think you're doing to military property!"

    Puzzled, the trespasser examined the room critically. "It's called 'ricing out the engine'. Why?"

    Norris restrained a scream -- barely. "What did you do?" he asked tersely.

    "Oh, not much. I figured that it'd get more power if I fixed-up the engine, so I set a turbo-charger to completely remove the cooling rods when you want a little more power. That should give you a good boost," he stated confidently.

    "Won't that make the engine go into meltdown?" Patterson asked frantically.

    "Well, yeah, but if you want a fast, powerful ride, you gotta take a _few_ risks."

    "I remember this far too well to be happy," Norris muttered. "Come with us, we're tossing you into the brig."

    Durant opened his mouth to comment, then blinked, looking downward in surprise. Norris followed his gaze worriedly, as did Patterson. Sulking in a nearly forgotten corner, behind the men, was one of the oddest creatures they had ever seen, something of a cross between a rabbit and a cat. It regarded them sullenly from where it was crouched.

    Patterson moved towards the creature quickly, frowning with distaste, but before he could reach it, there was a shimmering in the air before him, and a boy dressed in loose pants and a long white shirt with flowing sleeves appeared from the shimmer. The boy spared the men a glance, picking up the creature before turning to regard the men again. "What's going on here?" he asked.

    Norris hung his head, sighing. "Okay, so, you're Ranma's brother, right? What are you doing here?"

    The boy winced, and shifted to a shorter and more curved version of himself. With red hair. Norris stared, his ability to be shocked worn out for the time being, while Patterson leaned against the wall heavily, startled. Durant raised an eyebrow, as the girl said, "I'm not Ranma's brother, I _am_ Ranma."

    "That's kinda cool, but freaky at the same time," Durant noted. "Ranma, eh? I think I heard someone mention you once. Girl a little taller than you, but she had the same exact voice. Your sister?"

    "My daughter," Ranma returned. "She never mentioned you, though."

    "Durant," the man said, extending one hand to her. "Paul Durant," he added when she accepted it dubiously.

    "Okay, Ranma, if you don't mind I'm afraid that I need to take Mr. Durant here to the brig for trespassing on government property--"

    Ranma's eyes widened, and she grinned, haphazardly placing the small creature she had collected on her shoulder and completely ignoring Norris. "Paul Durant? You work for Mishima, and make satellites, right? Some kind of posirific lather or something?"

    Durant nodded, shrugging uneasily. "Well, yeah," he said, "though I'm beginning to think that last paycheck isn't going to be comin' through, what with Tokyo being a smoking pile of rubble, now... why do you ask?"

    "I have a broken satellite," Ranma said, "and there's a girl who I need to get some stuff for."

    "Girl? Satellite? Nothing says love like violence. What do you need?"

    "Okay, uh... she said she needed some kind of gas for the laser, that was hard to find, or something, and then lots of mirrors and lenses, for something else."

    Durant scratched his chin thoughtfully, then crossed his arms over his chest. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "there's a couple of ways to go with that. If it's a positronic laser, you have a few options. First off, to make things easy, you'll want to use a noble gas. Okay. Neon's not going to cut it for you. Generally, argon-suspension works pretty well, but it's argon, and you can probably do without it. Xenon is good, since they use that for most ruby lasers, but ain't really all that, even though the idiots in the U.S. think that it's the way to go..." he trailed off, thoughtfully. After a moment, he added, "Personally, I'd say you're best off with radon, but that's not as much fun to work with. If you could get it, I'd say the answer you _really_ want is krypton. Krypton's the good stuff, though it's kinda rare. What are you building the lasers for, anyway?"

    "To kill reavers," Ranma said instantly.

    At that, Norris and Patterson both silenced their protests, now curious.

    "Oh, well, yeah, krypton would be the good stuff, but the thing's gonna be massive, since you're gonna want liquid nitrogen to cool the gas, and then it's going to take a wicked drain on the batteries. What size are you looking for in these things, anyway?"

    "Something someone his size," Ranma jerked a thumb at Norris, "could carry around, but I think you want to talk to Washuu about that. Um, look, let me take you to the broken satellite so you can fix it, and you can talk to her. Where can I get some krypton gas?"

    Durant frowned, rubbing his chin. "Well," he said slowly, "I know they set up something in Antarctica to harvest it, based on some stupid theory about the ozone layer's reduction making more of it. Which is bull. I bet they were using it to hide something. Anyway, there's a Mishima automated refinery in Antarctica, somewhere, but I'm not sure where. If you can find that... well, who knows how much is there? That's where it'd be, though."

    Ranma grinned, and Norris cocked his head to one side, curious. "What about the lenses and mirrors?" Patterson asked.

    Grunting, Durant waved a hand. "Any decent microscope factory should have a bunch of good optics. Now, I'm taking professional, high-quality microscopes, not those cheap ones that we got in Miss Anderson's class -- damn things break _way_ too easy if you ask me -- but the good stuff. Hell, there's about a billion manufacturers for them in Taiwan, more in China, and that's all good glass and mirrors."

    Ranma's grin widened. "Excellent." She spun to face Norris, still floating just above the deck. "Norris-san, I'm sorry about breaking your boat. So's Ryu. I made a deal with him, though, and he promised to help us fight the reavers. Can you let him go?"

    The man seemed about to protest, but sighed, slumping. "Why the hell not?" he asked bitterly. "I already gave Washuu access to nuclear weapons."

    "You're giving out nukes?" Durant asked excitedly. "Can I get some?"

    "No!" Norris snapped. "Get out of here!"

    Ranma obligingly seized the man, and vanished into thin air, taking Durant and the strange creature with him.

    Patterson eyed his clipboard cautiously. "Um, how would you term this inspection, Commodore?" the man asked nervously.

    Norris hung his head further. "Acceptable," he decided. "The best it could have been, considering who was involved."

    ***

    Washuu glanced to one side as Ranma appeared -- briefly -- then disappeared, dropping someone off on the deck. The scientist eyed the man who was left there, looking a little out of place in his stained lab-coat, Mishima tag still hanging from the collar. Nuku bounded out from the tents, and paused at Washuu's side, glancing at the man. "Was Ranma-papa-san here?" she asked, turning to look at the redheaded scientist again.

    Nodding, Washuu regarded the man in the lab-coat, as strode confidently towards the satellite. "Excuse me," she called out. "Who are you? Can I help you?"

    "Name's Paul Durant," he said absently, studying the solid red lights on the satellite. "Got word that you had a broken satellite you needed to have fixed. Anything I can help with?"

    "Not likely," Washuu drawled. "Unless you can fix them from being eaten?"

    "Induce vomiting," Durant answered quickly, glancing at Washuu, and then at Nuku. "Oh, hey, kid. Ran into your dad. Mom. Whatever. Ran into him a bit ago. Does he know you're running around with strange blond Americans?"

    Nuku blinked, and pointed at Washuu. "Washuu is mama-san. Ranma is papa-san," she explained clearly. "Papa-san asked Terry to take care of Nuku-Nuku."

    "Well, that explains a bit. So you're Washuu, eh? Nice kid. Your husband's a little weird, but okay in my book."

    "He's not my husband," Washuu noted coolly.

    "Oh, hey, I'm a ninety's kinda guy, so that's cool, that's cool. What's wrong with the laser?"

    Washuu cleared her throat, while Nuku watched, befuddled. "The laser," Washuu explained primly, "seems to have overheated, and as a result, some of the diagnostic circuitry is damaged. Why?"

    Durant snorted, pulling a crowbar out of his lab-coat pocket. A large cloth, tied like a bandage, was wrapped around the middle of the iron rod, which he expertly swung back, and slammed into the side of the satellite. It whirred for a moment, then the lights all winked off, one-by-one. "Funny," Durant noted. "Never done that before."

    Washuu's jaw dropped, as she stared at the man. "Did you just break the last satellite, before I could even fix it?" she asked quietly, voice quavering with the promise of violence barely held in check.

    "Nah," Durant said, whacking it again with the crowbar. "It was already broken." As he pocketed the crowbar and turned away, the telltales lit up again, flashing red, then turning solid green, one at a time. "Just gotta know how to work it," Durant finished, shrugging.

    Recovering from her shock somewhat, Washuu said, "Thank you very much. Now never do that again."

    ***

    "What do you suppose that small creature that Hakubi-san kicked means to Ranma-san?" Ami wondered, frowning.

    "Didn't Hotaru say that Ranma called it his partner?" Rei asked.

    Ami nodded. "It must be important to him, since he caught it so quickly."

    Rei shrugged, furrowing her brow in thought. "How does he do that so easily?" she grumbled. "He just disappears and reappears somewhere else."

    "We must ask him when he has a moment," Ami resolved. "I simply hope he doesn't think we're prying or disrespectful."

    The other girl nodded in silent agreement. Her own curiosity, just as much as Ami's, needed to be assuaged. All that remained was to actually corner the boy and ask...

    ***

    "Washuu-mama-san! Washuu-mama-san! I can't wake up Ranma-papa-san!" Nuku frantically yelled, jumping up and down in agitation.

    The scientist turned away from her terminal, caught off guard. "What? Ranma?" she asked. "What are you--" The scientist stopped asking questions, as the core of Nuku's warning reached her.

    When her senses returned to her, she was standing before the door to the room that Norris had lent her -- for Ranma. Not pausing to rethink, though out of breath, she dashed into the room, leaping to the bed to check on Ranma worriedly. The boy-turned-girl was lying atop the bed, seemingly asleep. A quick survey of her vital signs showed that all was more-or-less in order, though Washuu had to wonder what Ranma had done to exhaust herself so thoroughly so early in the day.

    Sighing in relief, and pushing aside the odd encounter with Durant -- and subsequent discussions on phase dispersion variance -- she considered the small redhead on the bed, head resting in her lap. Ranma seemed to occupy her thoughts more often and more fully than anything else, of late.

    What was it about the boy that attracted her so? No, she thought. Not attracted, except as scientific curiosity. He was far, far too young to attract her interest in any other sense. But what was it that drew her attention, more so than his 'ki', whatever that was... There was simply something about him, even if she couldn't pin it down.

    Ranma mumbled something softly in her sleep, and rolled over, resting her head comfortably in Washuu's lap. Sighing, Washuu lay one hand on Ranma's head gently, raising her head. Ran-oh-ki was wisely nowhere to be seen. Ranma had found someone to help Washuu with the weaponry, for which she was grateful, but she was still more than a little upset about the loss of useful components. With Durant's help, she had been able to hash out a rough design for a rifle-sized armament, but Durant's suggestions used too many optics -- the satellite only had enough lenses and mirrors for one of suggested design to be built.

    Ranma made a contented noise, still asleep, and Washuu absently ran a hand through the girl's red hair. Spiked and fiery, but soft to the touch. Washuu couldn't help but smile at that, and glanced around the room, noting some things had been added. A trio of large crates, labeled from some factory in China, and another from Taiwan, and several large steel gas canisters.

    All of them marked 'krypton', and 'property of Mishima Heavy Industries -- To be handled by professionals _only_'.

    Washuu felt her jaw drop with disbelief. "Is _that_ what you were doing?" she asked, voice faint with wonder. She carefully tucked Ranma back into the bed, and scurried to the topmost of the crates, opening it carefully. Still in their factory issue-condition, wrapped carefully in airtight plastic bags, packed in foam, were a variety of tiny, polished mirrors and lenses.

    Ranma made a small noise, still sleeping, and Nuku waited apprehensively near the door. "What's wrong?" she asked, voice laden with worry.

    "Nothing," she said quickly, already trying to calculate how much weaponry could be built with the supplies on hand. "He's just very tired."

    "Is there anything Nuku-Nuku can do?" she asked.

    "Probably... Well, you could take a nap with him, so he won't be alone when he wakes up," she suggested.

    The girl bounced happily to the bed, and promptly curled up next to Ranma, like an over-sized kitten. Still asleep, Ranma threw one arm across the other girl, and the scientist was hard-pressed to resist a smile at the sight.

    ***

    Ryu rubbed his wrist as the American soldier took the cuffs off of him, allowing him to move freely. The old woman -- Ranma's grandmother -- spoke with the soldier in English, and Ryu was only able to follow a handful of the words before she gestured for him to follow her. "Come," she instructed him tersely.

    "So," Ryu said, dropping his hands to his side. "Where's Ranma?"

    "Taking a nap," Cologne informed him wryly. "He wanted to get something to make up for a mistake that his partner made, and ended up wearing himself out in the process."

    Ryu shrugged, hopping out of the bed. "Great," he said. "What now?"

    "You're free to go," Cologne said. "Norris explained that Ranma asked for you to be released, with the proviso that you fight alongside us."

    "Yeah," Ryu grunted. "He gets me the Umisen-ken, I fight with him. What now?"

    "Nothing," Cologne assured him. "Until Ranma's done resting, at any rate."

    The boy sighed, rolling his eyes. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

    "I think there are a number of girls who wanted words with you," Cologne said lightly, walking down the corridor.

    "What girls?" Ryu asked. Only moments later he spied Makoto, approaching swiftly, and flanked by the majority of the girls she was travelling with. "This sucks," he added, annoyed to note that the old woman was already gone.

    ***

    The end product of Washuu and Durant's efforts was a large, yet sleek and lightweight rifle-like weapon. Norris held one carefully, frowning at the stylized silver-and-red crab symbol on the butt of the gun. Durant's work, doubtless.

    "So," he asked, hefting the weapon easily, and experimentally sighting the coast of Japan, still slipping past in the distance. "How much power do these things pack, and what kind of damage do they do?"

    "Oh, that's easy," Durant replied blithely, before Washuu could answer. "See, a positronic laser isn't quite a laser, as much as a stream of microwave, jacketed in radiation. The coherent light is merely incidental."

    "That doesn't sound remotely safe," Norris grumbled. "How will it affect my men, if they use it?"

    "Should fry them instantly," Durant noted. "Not a toy. Why the hell do you think I put the damn things in automated satellites?"

    "Ahem," Washuu interjected, shooting Durant a scathing glance. "I've reduced the radioactive backlash to minimal levels, Mr. Norris. It will be safe for your men to handle, but not to be struck with. The point of impact for the weapon will also contain a certain level of radiation. It should be non-lethal, if the beam isn't active, and the half-life is only seconds, so within an hour, the worst of it should be cleared."

    "Okay," Norris said, trusting the female scientist. "I'm guessing they haven't been tested?"

    "No," Durant said, shrugging. "No good batteries for them, yet."

    "So, it's useless?" Norris said, his fingers reflexively tightening on the trigger.

    The deafening crack and explosion of light as a blast of light sprang from the barrel of the weapon answered him better than either Durant or Washuu could, and he watched, blinking away the afterimage. A line of light had been traced through the air, slicing easily through the conning tower of one of the nearby ships, thankfully deserted. A mass of sheared and glowing red metal remained above the cut, while the shore in the distance echoed another explosion as the beam forced some reaction with something on the coast.

    "I wouldn't say that," Washuu said wryly, rubbing at her ears and wincing. "I think your men might want to wear sunglasses, though.

    "Uh," Norris managed, staring at the rifle in belated shock. "I thought you said there were no good batteries for it yet?"

    "No," Durant said, "there aren't. There's only enough juice in there for one shot."

    Norris frowned dubiously. "Anything else I should know?"

    "Yes," Durant said emphatically. "Do not cross the beams."

    "Why not?" Norris asked worriedly.

    "Trust me, it will be bad," Durant said sternly.

    The man grimaced, attempting to stare the tech down. "Define 'bad', Mr. Durant."

    "It's hard to explain, but try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and finding yourself confined forever in another dimension."

    After a long moment of silence, Norris asserted, "You're just making that up, aren't you?"

    "Maybe," Durant answered evasively. "Maybe the beams will just refract if they collide, maybe you'll annihilate all of reality. Only one way to find out."

    Washuu glanced at the technician, frowning, then turned her attention back to Norris. "About those nuclear devices, Mr. Norris? Once I have those, I can make as many fission batteries as you provide me components for."

    "Oh, right." Norris frowned, eyeing Washuu. "It's going to take a bit for me to get the warheads from the boomers to the deck, since there's a whole fleet around us. Ah... each boomer carries twenty-four Trident II D-5 SLBMs. They're a bit... um... largish. And I don't think that the general people," he motioned towards the tents, "will really like watching you operate on something that dangerous. If we could get it into the hangars, below decks..." The man trailed off apologetically.

    "Bah," Durant grunted. "People just don't have any chutzpah anymore. I swear. In my daddy's day, nobody said _nothing_ when the garage blew up two, three, maybe even four times a week." He shook his head, sighing. "Now they get all funny just cause you want to play around with a nuke. What is their problem, anyway?"

    Washuu ignored the tech, telling Norris, "Okay, I think I can manage things. I'll just need room in the hangar."

    "How the hell are you going to move SLBMs from the boomer to the hangar without alerting anyone?" Norris asked, frowning.

    Washuu merely grinned, and Norris quickly answered his own question, "Never mind. Here, take the rifle back, and for the love of god, don't blow us all up." Pushing the rifle into Durant's hands as the man pontificated on the glories of high explosives, Norris scurried away.

    ***

    Cologne was awaiting Ranma after she woke, scrubbing a tired hand through her hair -- which steadfastly refused to assume any form other than perfectly spiked back. After waiting for Ranma to drink a glass of water, she announced, "Yosho said that he was very impressed with your skill, Ranma."

    Ranma grunted, nodding. "I tried," she mumbled. "He's pretty damned fast, though."

    "Indeed," the woman mumbled, frowning. "How are feeling, Ranma?"

    "Tired," Ranma said glancing at the old woman, then back to Nuku, sleeping soundly on the bed. "But I've been worse. Can we get to work? I don't know how much time we've got left."

    Cologne nodded slowly, backing out of the room. Ranma straightened the folds and creases on her makeshift outfit before following. "If you're certain," the woman answered, frowning.

    Ranma shrugged, pacing out onto the deck of the ship, and cringing at the night sky. "Man," she grumbled. "I slept too long."

    "I think the training might actually be better at night," Cologne responded. "If you're sure you're interested, that is..."

    "Anything to help. Terry told me that, actually. I shouldn't reject anything that'll help me win the war."

    "Is that so?" Cologne asked, raising an eyebrow. "Pity that those monsters probably don't have pressure points."

    Ranma blinked at the woman, but said nothing.

    "Ah, never mind about that. I've read through the scrolls your father left you... the training is going to be tricky, at best, but I trust you have a sharp mind. Are you ready?"

    "Once we find Ryu," the redhead answered.

    Cologne sighed, turning about and trundling across the deck. "Very well," she muttered. "He's waiting for us... Washuu had a favor to ask of you, when I explained some of the training to her."

    "Eh?" Ranma noised, scratching her head curiously. "What kind of favor?"

    ***

    "So."

    "So."

    The two boys stared at the slowly rolling deck beneath their feet.

    The training was, in theory, simple, according to what Cologne had lain down for them. And the first task to sharpen those skills, of course.

    "Well?"

    "What?"

    The hatches were clearly defined beneath their feet, quite wide, and making the pair wonder at the size of whatever lay within.

    Which was, of course, the problem.

    "I thought maybe you had an idea."

    "I wish."

    Silence, then.

    "What now?"

    "Uh... first, we need to get through that hatch."

    The hatch again. Solid steel, and who knew how thick it was, either?

    "I'm seeing a problem here."

    "What's that?"

    Scratching behind an ear nervously, one of the boys shuffled his feet, leaning down to peer more closely at the hatch.

    "How are we going to carry the thing, once we get it back, anyway? Yeah, I can jump from ship to ship pretty easily..."

    "... but carrying whatever we get is just going to be insane?"

    A minor rumble through the ship left both of them to carefully readjust their footing, until it passed, and the submarine resumed its normal course.

    "Yeah. I'm drawing a blank on this one."

    Another moment of silence, broken only by the not-so-gentle lapping of the waves against the hull.

    "Well, when all else fails, cheat."

    "Sounds like a plan. You smash this damn thing open, I'll grab whatever's inside, and we'll teleport. Deal?"

    "Deal. When we get back, let's have the old woman start us off with something a little less dangerous that stealing from the U.S. Navy."

    ***

    "Where do you suppose Ryu-chan and Ranma are?" Makoto asked, muffling a yawn tiredly.

    A klaxon blaring filled the late evening silence, as one of the submarine's lights came on, red and glaring. Men dashed about the deck of the surfaced craft, yelling indistinctly into the night, though a freighter alongside the Kitty Hawk hid one half of the craft from sight.

    "I'm sure they're fine," Cologne said, emerging from the darkness to smile pleasantly at the assembled senshi.

    The girls, and the one man with them -- Haruka's deception might have slipped past Ranma and the others, but Cologne could see it easily enough -- all stared towards the alarms for a long moment, and then turned their attention to the old woman. "What are they doing?" the blonde girl with the pair of long pigtails asked.

    "Training," Cologne said flatly. "Now, if you'll forgive me, I'm going to have to speak with Norris about the small matter of some missing... things..."

    The girls all blinked in unison, before Rei summed it up by saying, "I think I'm happier not knowing."

    "I want to know what Ranma-san's doing," Hotaru grumped. "He's my boyfriend, after all."

    Dead silence greeted that statement for a long moment, until Minako managed, "Does he know?"

    "He'd better!"

    ***

    Washuu looked up, blinking, as a massive volume of air was displaced from the hangar, leaving Ranma vainly attempting to hold up the SLBM that she had asked him to retrieve. Ryu hopped down from the missile, and threw his own strength to the task, but at nearly seven feet across, and another forty in length, it was too bulky for him to manage.

    That Ranma's strength appeared to be up to the task -- save for the intricacies of balancing it -- was impressive, Washuu noted even as she tossed out another of the disks she had brought from her old lab for such occasions.

    Finding the weight relieved, Ranma and Ryu slumped to the floor, groaning tiredly amid the planes. Washuu cocked her head, as alarms blared throughout the ship. "Hmm," she mused. "I take it that things didn't go as well as you had hoped?"

    "Not really," Ryu gasped. "The hatch was pretty damn thick. I think I almost broke my hand on it."

    "And the missile was really heavy," Ranma panted. "I had to pick it up before I could teleport, and then get it turned sideways so it'd fit here."

    Washuu winced. "I guess it was a bit much to ask for your first attempt. I think I have something that can help you, since we're going to run out of room to work here, shortly," she mumbled, riffling through her pocket, and producing another small handful of disks. Approaching Ranma, she pressed them into his hands, explaining, "Hit the green button, then drop them beneath the missiles. That should make it much easier."

    "Joy," Ryu muttered, still nursing his sore hand.

    Glancing to one side, as she heard a flurry of frantic footsteps, she grinned. "You should get out of here, while I explain what happened to Mr. Norris."

    Heaving a groan, Ranma grabbed Ryu, and vanished again.

    ***

    "Okay," Setsuna mumbled, more for her own benefit than for either Haruka or Michiru. "Okay. So, all of my leads were essentially useless. Paper trails dry up when there's no longer buildings standing to house those papers."

    Haruka shrugged, noting, "Well, it's about the best we could expect, really. I take it you didn't find anything?"

    "Just the register," the other woman answered.

    "Well," Michiru said softly, "we got a clue, but I'm not sure how much it helps..."

    "What did you find?" Setsuna asked, eyes widening with interest immediately.

    Haltingly, and uncertain, the women managed to relay the images revealed to them earlier.

    "That doesn't help very much," Setsuna said. "I can't imagine what any of that means. Colors? I suppose we could assume that the darkness is the reavers, but everything else? A rusty sword?"

    Haruka frowned, her lips compressing into a tight and narrow line. "Well," she mumbled, "it _is_ all we have to go on, at the moment."

    Setsuna bowed her head, sighing. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm under a lot of stress. I'll keep an eye open for anything that brings those clues to mind... and any other clues that might present themselves."

    With that, they disbanded for the evening, searching out a place to rest, and plan for the next few days.

    ***

    "Ah... Hakubi-sensei?"

    The scientist glanced over her shoulder at the diminutive blue-haired girl, who seemed to shrink into herself even more under her gaze. "Yes?" she asked, stepping away from her latest project, and wiping her hands on a rag.

    The girl seemed distracted, likely by the fact that Washuu had previously been up to her elbows in a nuclear missile. Peaceful culture or not, the girl knew what the device was. Likely there wouldn't be more than a small handful of people on the entire planet that didn't.

    Seeing the girl's discomfiture, and needing to rest her hands for a moment anyway, Washuu set the washcloth on the table before her, already covered in cast-off fittings and unneeded parts. The casings for her fission batteries lay to one side, simply awaiting the required nuclear components. Nuku sat on the edge of the table, kicking her feet idly, and waiting for Ranma to return. "You can call me Washuu," she said, trying to calm the girl. "What do you need?"

    "Um..." if possible, the girl seemed to draw even further into herself. "It's about... ah, Ranma-san."

    "Oh-HO!" Washuu snickered, guessing the girl's reason for coming. "I see I've really outdone myself, making Ranma, hmm?"

    "P-p-pardon, Washuu-sensei?" the girl stammered, blushing furiously.

    "Ah. Not sure how to tell him you like him, hmm?" The scientist attempted to dismiss the nagging, annoying doubt, but it refused to fade. What was it? "Well," she mused, crossing her arms beneath her chest. "I don't know... I would think that you should probably wait a bit, if you want to tell him anything." The nagging doubt faded. Of course, she told herself. That kind of pressure would just distract Ranma, especially now. Much better to put it off and forestall it.

    "That's not it, Washuu-sensei!" the girl blurted suddenly. "I  wanted to talk to you about Ranma-san because I'm curious." She was silent for a moment, staring at the deck beneath her feet, and fidgeting. "Aside from which, Hotaru-chan has said that he's her... ah... boyfriend."

    The redhead blinked. "Who's Hotaru?"

    The girl looked behind her, into the dimly lit passage and called softly, "Hotaru-chan, aren't you going to come in?"

    Hesitantly, a shorted girl, somewhat pale, entered and stood immediately next to the blue-haired girl. Hotaru pouted, and said, "I wanted to talk to Ranma-san..."

    Washuu sighed, shaking her head, and summoning her computer terminal. "He's a little busy at the moment," she notified the girls. "What did you want to talk to him about?" Frowning, she eyed the blue-haired girl. "What is your name, if I might ask?"

    "Ah... I'm sorry, Washuu-sensei. I am Mizuno Ami, and this is my friend, Tomoe Hotaru," she said by way of introduction, seemingly ashamed that she had forgotten. "If... if you don't mind, we wanted to ask Ranma about his past, and what his story was. It seems that when Hibiki-san and Mu Si-san told us... there were things that they didn't tell us, either."

    Washuu quirked an eyebrow. In all likelihood, Ami knew more about Ranma through his old friends than she did herself. She couldn't quite pin down why, but something about that unsettled her. "Ah," she said. "And you want me to tell you the rest of the story?"

    "No!" Ami blurted out, shaking her head and waving her hands worriedly. "That would be very disrespectful of Ranma-san, to ask behind his back! We... we wanted to ask him himself, if he was willing to speak to us about it."

    "Oh, well... that makes sense enough. I'm afraid you'll have to wait until he comes back from his training to ask, though." Washuu shook her head, tapping a few keys and calculating the most efficient way she could proceed with her work.

    "Well... since he is not here at the moment," Ami said, apparently still struggling for words, "do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

    "Not really," Washuu said, despite the fact that she would rather have been left alone. "What did you want to know about?"

    "Your computer, Washuu-sensei... where did you get it?"

    "I made it myself, when I was at the Academy," Washuu answered, frowning. Actually, that wasn't completely true -- the entire system had been replaced, a piece at a time, as she had thought of new ways to improve it. The essence of the answer was true, however, since that was where the genesis of the computer had come from... wasn't it? She couldn't remember back quite far enough to identify what she had used before.

    "Which Academy?" Ami asked, still curious.

    "One very far away," Washuu answered. "You may have guessed this already, but I'm not from around here."

    "Oh? Are you a Juraian, like Masaki-san?"

    "Something like that. Why do you want to know?"

    Ami produced a small laptop from one pocket, showing it to Washuu and explaining, "I wanted to know if it was similar at all to mine. I don't... ah, I don't know quite where this was created, and the database containing that information was damaged, so I was curious to know if you perhaps knew where it would have come from."

    "Oh?" Washuu asked, curious. The small computer would doubtlessly be completely unremarkable compared to her own, but it was still interesting. "Well, it's just Terran tech," she said. "I'll see what I can find out."

    In a moment, she had connected the computers through a cable, and was rapidly scanning Ami's smaller computer. "Hmm," she mused, surprised at the veritable mountains of data that lay within. "This is interesting."

    "What's that, Washuu-sensei?"

    Washuu glanced at the smaller girl, absently activating a subroutine to mirror everything on Ami's laptop, and attempt to repair the aforementioned damaged databases. "That's quite a powerful machine you have there. Where did you find it?"

    "It's... ah... left over from the Silver Millenium."

    "That would explain it," Washuu noted. "I'll see if I can repair some of the damage, and I probably have a few of the same databases you do. It looks like almost the entire Juraian Cultural Library is stored there, along with other things..."

    "Really?" the girl asked, curious. Washuu nodded, glancing for a moment at Hotaru, who was sitting on the floor near Nuku, bored. "I'd never gotten a chance to entirely read through all of the information there, and much of it didn't make any sense to me."

    "Well, I can explain a bit to you..." She gestured the girl closer, pointing to her own terminal's screen. "See, this is the last entry in your mirror of the cultural library, which is dated the year before Amatera Omiki left Jurai. Now, of the existing sub-libraries you have..."

    ***

    Leaning against the side of the conning tower, arms folded behind his head, Mousse asked, "Where do you suppose that Ranma is?"

    Ryouga snorted, shaking his head. "Training, I bet. Not happy with his skill yet. Probably won't be until he can beat Ryu with one hand and not using his powers," he answered.

    Sitting across from them in a meditative position, Yosho said nothing.

    "Yosho-san?" Ryouga asked, looking at the stars more than the man.

    "Yes?"

    "What do you suppose will happen to us?"

    Opening his eyes, and looking up at the stars above, Yosho answered, "That, I do not know. I would like to think that we manage to defeat the reavers and reclaim our home, but... it may not happen."

    "What do you mean?" Mousse asked, confused. "There's only so many of them, and... who knows how many of them are dead, now. Aren't we slowly winning? Once we get to the Joketsuzoku territories, we should have enough power to completely turn the tide."

    "There are forces, boy... forces that we cannot even _begin_ to understand at play here. More than just being men battling monsters, there's the ever present background of," he paused to spit, "politics. Even before that, however, these monsters adapt, and learn. If anything, they'll only grow more dangerous, the more we kill."

    "You're saying we don't have a chance, and we should give up?" Ryouga asked quietly.

    "No, but our fates do not rest entirely within our own hands. We will still need help from people with more power than ourselves..."

    ***

    Tenchi relaxed, finally able to rest. Genoh and Karau had left, after Karau had drafted a contract for Genoh and Tenchi to sign.

    More out of thought to her than any distrust of the Laruma, Tenchi had Ayeka read it before he signed it. Visibly shaken by the entire concept, the distraught princess managed to state that the contract had no loopholes for Tenchi to worry about, and at that, he had signed it.

    That done, the Laruma had excitedly excused themselves, and Genoh followed the Throne in Vidarr until reaching the edge of Juraian space. Tenchi wasn't certain where the man had gone from there, but was more focused on dealing with things when he returned to the Court. "Ryouko?" he asked, suddenly.

    The girl raised an eyebrow, lounged as she was in one of the nearer chairs. "Yes, Tenchi?"

    "About those bars you were going to..."

    The woman's expression wilted visibly. "What?" she asked, voice tinged with worry.

    "I think you should probably keep going. The information is invaluable. Just... be very careful about it."

    "Tenchi!" Ayeka yelped. "What... I thought I was to be the new Inspector General of Information, and she the commander of the Royal Bodyguard!"

    "That's right," Tenchi answered, grinning. "So they'd probably never expect a woman, after a hard day of work protecting the Emperor, to really be fishing for information."

    Ayeka blinked, surprised at the concept. Ryouko raised both eyebrows, clearly impressed.

    "Aside from which," Tenchi added, "if they do know why you're there, it'll still give us a good impression of what the average people in these bars think of the country."

    "Empire," Ayeka corrected absently. "That is... remarkably thoughtful, Tenchi-sama. I knew you would make a capable Emperor... but... Well, I trust you, Tenchi-sama."

    "I doubt I can do it alone. It's only thanks to you that I've managed this far," Tenchi said quietly, causing both women to blush faintly.

    ***

    In the silence of a large canvas shelter, under the watchful eyes of Chiba Mamoru, six of the senshi slept. Again duffels and backpacks became makeshift pillows, while borrowed blankets from the Navy men protected them from the worst of the cold. Ami and Hotaru were looking for 'Ranma-san', who he had not himself met, though he'd heard a good deal of. Setsuna was off doing whatever it was that Setsuna did. He thought it best not to ponder that, and instead watched over the girls.

    And presently, became drowsy, and thus, was too deep asleep to wake Rei when her dream began.

    ***

    Her first impression was of her clothing, dressed as she was once more in her shrine-garb. However, in the place where the Sacred Flame burned, there was nothing. No altar.

    A sick realization reached her, as she became aware of where she stood.

    It was the temple as she had always tended it, save that it was empty. The walls, gone. Merely bare stone floors, razed clean of any other furnishings. The wooden floors, where they remained were rotting, collapsing under their own weight.

    She swallowed a small ball of fear, looking to where the Sacred Flame traditionally burned again. The fire would have long since been extinguished, either by... But her mind stopped that train of thought. Regardless of the cause, she had failed to maintain it, as was her duty. Certainly, her grandfather would have taken an ember and tended it until he had a chance to rekindle the flame, but it was her duty in the last days to maintain the Flame.

    And there, ethereal and unreal, wavering in the air as though atop an invisible altar, the Flame still burned.

    Seductively, hypnotically, it wavered, beckoning her closer, seeming ready to draw her in. Nearly against her own will, she shuffled an awkward step closer to the flame, and it began to unfold, expanding and encompassing to completely surround her.

    With a sudden and lurching sensation, the Flame was within her -- a _part_ of her, and suffused every particle of her being.

    Not a Flame, she saw, finally seeing the truth of the matter. A focus. A window to something greater than herself. And even if she had failed to keep the flame burning, the flame, that vital spark within herself, or the other senshi could never be extinguished.

    With that realization, the visions came.

    ***

    Shanghai. She knew it without knowing how, feeling as though a great presence were guiding her.

    The city streets were deserted, at the moment, but that moment passed, and life -- motion burst into being. Behind her, and she whirled.

    Half a dozen of the American soldiers, carrying guns and looking in all directions worriedly. Behind them, Ranma, wounded and clutching his shoulder. He mumbled something, and the band followed, rushing down the street, around a corner, and out of her sight.

    Cries and explosions echoed, flashes of light and raw, deadly power radiated from the site. Rei felt herself struggling, even in dream, to help, but found herself restrained. A hand on her shoulder, and a presence so familiar -- so achingly, woefully familiar.

    Swallowing, she turned again, to behold the figure behind her. As radiant and noble as the day she had died -- and that memory resounded through her so strongly she would have fallen to her knees, were she not caught into a gentle hug -- was Serenity, her face sorrowful. "Not yet," she whispered to Rei. "Not yet, child."

    Rei nodded wordlessly, eyes wide and still brimming with tears. Was it the death of the men, fighting for the noblest of all causes? Or merely the presence of Serenity herself? She couldn't know, then, and Serenity gave her no more time to ponder. "Child, watch, and know this. It is difficult for my warnings to reach you, from here."

    The senshi nodded, and they were borne away in a gust of wind and a wash of white, cleansing power. She beheld beneath her, the city, falling slowly to the reaver attacks. They could be pushed back, and even be killed, but the human defenders were simply not adequate enough to counter the rush of the enemy.

    In a matter of hours, she knew, the battle was lost. "How," she managed, "how can we stop it?"

    "The answer is plainer than you think," Serenity answered softly. "Merely trust, and allow all of yourselves to know in your hearts who to follow. But even if that obstacle can be overcome, there is yet worse." And with that, the scene changed once more.

    The bottom of a wide valley, the mountains and nearby features foreign to Rei. In the center of the valley, morbid and stalwart stood three figures, though only two were known to her. Firstly, Hotaru, as Sailor Saturn, Glaive held upwards with grim purpose. Secondly, Ranma, dressed in an odd, loose fitting robe of unfamiliar make over his traditional black suit.

    But lastly, and perhaps most importantly, there stood a winged man, trailing fire from the tips of his wings, and more from his hands. Set more grimly and with firmer resolve than even Hotaru, or the resolute Ranma, he glanced at Rei, and managed a half-smile.

    Turning away from her, he turned his attention to the other two. "It is agreed," he said, voice deep and resounding, seeming ready to fill the valley with its echoes. "There is no other path."

    Hotaru nodded weakly, but unhappily.

    Retrieving a small staff from the ground at his side, the man held it aloft, revealing it to be a scythe-like weapon, the blade at an awkward angle from the staff, and shaped like a crescent moon. A sense of great purpose filled the area, and then all faded away again, as Serenity guided Rei away. The same visage, from nearly so high up as to be invisible.

    At the edges of the valley, a creeping blackness encroached, rushing across the lip of the ridges, and then down, towards the trio below. Rei tried to scream a warning to them, to tell them what was happening, but her voice failed her, and she watched with horror as the valley exploded with ice, cold so deep that the air of the valley was liquefied, and then frozen solid. It began with a green flash, which swiftly suffused blue and shot out to consume from there.

    And on the cold rushed, killing the blackness, and turning the entire world into a massive, glittering ball of ice.

    And all was silent.

    ***

    She woke up, sitting bolt upright and drenched in sweat. Shivering, the image of a cold, dead Earth haunted her. The other girls about her remained asleep, but a nagging thought of the dream bit at her attention.

    Firstly, she needed to ask the others about the first dream. Because if they did not do as Serenity suggested... they would all fail.

    And lastly, but perhaps more importantly... according to that dream, Hotaru, Ranma, and the fiery man who she did not know... would die creating the Great Ice.

    Usagi failed to wake when shaken, but Rei was too rattled to wait. Giving up on that, she rose on unsteady feet -- she needed to find someone to talk to about the dream right away, and a feeling she couldn't pinpoint suggested Hotaru should be there.

    -----------------------------
    [End, Chapter 7, Process of Elimination]

    Author's notes:

    Thank you to Slacker, Ladegard, Ginrai, MageOhki, Unseen, and the rest of the #void crew for pre-reading, along with special guest pre-reader Alex Raven.

    Very brief notes: Hyoho Niten Ichi, and Yagyu Shinkage are schools of kendo founded by Morimoto Musashi and Jubei Yagyu respectively, arguably two of the greatest swordsmen in Japanese history.