Process of Elimination -- Chapter Eleven -- Part One
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 Kodansha (3x3
Eyes), and Takada Yuuzou, and A.D.Vision (Bannou Bunka Nekomusume
Nuku-Nuku). 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. 3x3 Eyes diverges before OAV2. This fic uses
the bizarrely vague 'Pick One!' scenario. Enjoy.
-----------------------------
"She achieved a great many unlikely and unexpected results, but
we've grown used to that from her. Her new partner, however, was like a
rising nova among glow-lights -- I don't know that I've seen a finer
Galaxy Police officer in all my time."
Commander in Chief, Galaxy Police, further identification withheld
-- Mentioned at a munitions conference in New Terran year 005.
The Marines continued driving the convoy into the night, switching
over in shifts when one driver became tired, so that the vehicles never
stopped moving. The steady rumble of the engines was oddly soothing to
the passengers.
After nearly of an hour of quiet chatting, both Ranma and Yakumo
finally succumbed to sleep.
And dreamed.
***
The setting was familiar to Ranma immediately. It took only a
heartbeat for the resentment he had built for the woman to return to
him, and he scowled, spinning to face her dais as he yelled, "Leave me
alone!"
His shout echoed through the vast, echoing chamber, resounding from
the columns of ivory and the dark, unknowable recesses. Blinking in no
small amount of surprise, he realized that he was alone -- the golden
dais was deserted.
"What the hell?" he mumbled. "Some new trick to screw with my head?"
"Not entirely," a voice answered him, low and dulcet.
Whirling, he spun, landing in a crouched and ready stance, summoning
a blade of crackling red power to his hands without thinking. The
speaker was a woman, shorter than Tokimi or himself, with flowing blonde
hair that reached easily to her ankles, and wore a shimmering,
iridescent white gown.
She had not been there when he had first arrived, but he had learned
to expect as much from the dreams. "Who are you?" he asked warily.
"I am Amatera Omiki, Higurashi-sama," she replied, curtsying low.
Straightening, she added, "I would advise that you be quiet, though. I
do not know how much I can hide from the lady who this hall belongs to."
Stunned, Ranma allowed his blades to vanish. "You're not going to
try and make me bring Washuu here?" he asked carefully.
"I do not know who that one is. I am here because I believe it would
make Tsunami happy for me to do so," she responded quietly, a smile
coming to her lips.
Ranma relaxed very slightly, standing in a less aggressive stance
and frowning. "What's your story? Hell, what is this place?"
Omiki touched her fingers to her lips thoughtfully, then clasped her
hands before her and admitted, "I do not understand entirely. This is
the lady's hall. More than that I cannot say. Tsunami keeps no such hall
that I know of."
"Uh-huh. So what do you want with me?" Ranma asked, eyeing the woman
suspiciously.
She shook her head, looking away. "I wish to atone for a mistake I
have made. A sore misdeed, I should think. In protecting you from the
lady of this hall, I believe that I can, in some small measure, make
amends to Tsunami."
"So you want to protect me from the crazy chick," the boy assessed,
narrowing his eyes.
"It could be worded in such a manner, yes."
"Uh... what if I don't need you to help me out? I can handle her
just fine."
The woman smirked, raising her hand to cover her smile and shaking
her head. "Then I would tell you that survival comes before pride,
Higurashi-sama. The lady of this hall seldom allows it, I would imagine,
and my powers are limited in most respects. I cannot always intercede
like this, so rest while you may."
Ranma opened his mouth to protest, but collapsed from the setting
into a deeper, dreamless sleep before he could utter a complaint.
***
Unused to the lavish apartments that had been bestowed upon him when
he was handed the title of 'Emperor,' Tenchi did not entirely feel
comfortable in the old Emperor's oversized bed. It was large enough that
it could comfortably allow three of four of himself to sprawl about and
not be able to reach one another.
Thinking about why a bed would be so large didn't comfort him much
either, and as a result he had taken to sleeping on a couch in a sitting
room connected to the official bedchamber. The sitting room was large
enough that it put the living room of the Masaki home on Earth to shame.
Still, the high ceiling had windows that allowed some amount of light to
filter in from the Juraian dawn.
He was awake before the sky began to brighten, laying back on the
large couch and staring upward. The first morning, the servants that
came to wake him had not dealt with his hesitancy to use the bed well,
and so when the light became more pronounced, he would again sit in the
large bed and look as though he had just wakened when they arrived.
That stray thought brought up an idle wish that either Ayeka or
Ryouko would wake him, since it had been some time since he'd had that
particular pleasure, but he dismissed it. Time for playing was long
since past. "Meeting with Seiryo," he mumbled to himself. "Delegates
from the Galaxy Police to discuss common laws that the Galaxy Police and
the Empire of Jurai will agree to enforce within Juraian space." And
more, he knew, that he couldn't remember at the moment.
"Ugh," he grumbled, sitting up and swinging his legs off of the
couch to stand on the soft carpeting. He scratched at one arm absently,
glancing around the room. The clothes that he had been given to sleep in
were not to his liking, and he had taken to simply sleeping in boxer
shorts and a tank top. The Tenchi-ken -- never far from his hand now --
sat atop the discarded robes of the previous day.
Grimacing, he gathered the Tenchi-ken, frowning at a muffled
scratching noise from the bedroom. Maybe the servants had come early. He
dismissed that for the moment as unimportant. The servants vastly
underestimated him anyway. In Tenchi's opinion, if he was capable enough
to run the government of a massive empire, then he was capable enough to
change his own clothes.
The muffled scratching faded away, to be replaced with a soft thud,
followed shortly by an echoing impact that reverberated through the
floor. Eyes narrowing, Tenchi dropped the robe he had picked up from the
floor and activated the Tenchi-ken, slightly reassured by the glowing
blade of energy as he flung open the door to the bedroom. Something felt
very odd about that strange sound.
***
A chill wind preceded the dawn, rustling the leaves of the First
tree near the balcony, and causing Tsunami to hum slightly in
contentment at the First's happiness. She leant over the balcony -- she
wouldn't fall, and even if she did, the First's branches spread beyond
the balcony -- and looked beyond the green and brown tones of the
First's branches.
More trees were spread below, a vast, nearly endless sea of green
foliage waving in Jurai's winds, occasional lights flashing messages
from one tree to another as the people below began to wake. Of course,
she knew she was just distracting herself from the task at hand.
Behind her, at the medium-sized table grown from the First that
accompanied the balcony, Misaki and Funaho sat, attended by a single
servant. And Jakugo, of course. It was at his suggestion that the
meeting was happening, and thusly, he stood by as an attendant and observer.
Turning back to the women, and bowing her head, Tsunami took a seat
between them, closer the edge of the balcony. "I'm sorry," she said
apologetically, before raising her head. "I forget myself."
Funaho nodded her understanding, sipping at her tea, while Misaki
sat stiffly, managing a terse nod. "Are you sure that you do not wish
Ayeka to be here?" Jakugo asked softly. "And perhaps, your successor
also? I'm certain that Ryouko could have some advantageous insight."
Misaki shot Jakugo a disapproving glance, and shook her head,
recovering some of her composure. "If our husband shouldn't be here,
there's no need for either of them," she informed him coldly.
Jakugo took a step back, flinching.
Turning her attention back to Tsunami, Misaki managed a smile, and
in a quavering voice said, "Tsunami.... Are you Tsunami? Or are you
Sasami? Who are you?"
Tsunami felt her smile fading, and sighed, bowing her head again.
"I'm... neither. And both," she said hesitantly. "I am _of_ Tsunami and
Sasami, but not wholly either. I suppose this is very difficult for you."
"Yes," Misaki said instantly, a flash of regret in her eyes telling
Tsunami that she had not meant to speak so quickly. "Rather, that is--"
Funaho smoothly overrode the stuttering woman, and offered, "It's
difficult to adjust, one would think, when one finds that their daughter
has become divinity."
Jakugo watched with undisguised interest, a subtle hand-gesture from
him sending the attending servant to refill the tea.
"Divinity?" Tsunami asked, frowning. "I'm.... I'm a real person,
Funaho, Misaki."
Misaki sighed, calming herself visibly. She was probably pleased
that Tsunami had taken the first step towards allowing her to disavow a
relationship between them. "I see," she said. "So then I suppose this
means that Sasami, at least as I've known her is gone forever?"
Blinking away forming tears, Tsunami offered a shrug. "Yes," she
said simply. It wasn't true, of course, but it was the answer that
Misaki obviously wanted to hear. It was far easier for her to think of
her daughter dying as a sacrifice than changing in such a manner.
Funaho made a thoughtful noise, sipping at her tea again. "Tell me,
Tsunami," she said conversationally, "if you're not kin to Misaki, then
who is your family here?"
Tsunami winced, stung. Funaho's question was more than simply asking
who Tsunami was; it was asking on what ground she remained in the palace.
Seeming to realize that her words might have been harsh, Funaho
amended before Tsunami could speak, "Rather, who are your relations,
Tsunami-chan? I don't question your right to be here."
The girl swallowed, and grasped her teacup in trembling hands. Who
was she, then? She had already taken the name 'Tsunami', what reason was
there to go back on that choice? "I suppose that I have no family in
this realm," she said quietly. "I would be nothing more than myself,
Tsunami. My right to be here is my privilege as...." She sighed, not
wanting to complete the phrase, but knowing that it had to be done. In a
very tired voice, she completed, "My privilege as the Goddess of Jurai,
and the tree-ship Tsunami, symbol of all that is Jurai."
Funaho frowned, appearing displeased with the answer, while Misaki
nodded in understanding. Jakugo watched quietly, offering her a
sympathetic smile.
"By your leave, Misaki-san, Funaho-san," Tsunami mumbled, rising,
and offering each of the women a polite nod.
For a moment, it seemed as though Funaho would stop her, call her
back, but the woman instead turned to comfort Misaki. Obvious enough,
really, Tsunami thought. The two had been together for centuries; it was
no wonder that Funaho would choose that woman over her. Jakugo offered
her his arm on the way to the door.
Tsunami paused, considering, then accepted, hesitantly. Refusing it
would be rude, and she did want to ask him a few questions. Walking a
short distance down the hall, Jakugo automatically led her to her
quarters -- Tsunami's quarters, which she hadn't seen in some time. Not
the quarters that Sasami had used, which Tsunami had been staying in
until recently. She frowned, but said nothing, waiting for him to speak
first.
"Tsunami-sama," he began warmly. "Allow me to welcome you to Jurai.
I do not believe that any others have thought to welcome you, or give
you the respect you deserve."
"Ah," she said quietly. "Well. Tenchi-san, of course."
Jakugo's smile didn't falter. "Of course. He's a very well meaning
boy, isn't he?"
"Yes," she said quietly, pulling her arm free of his and turning to
face him in the corridor. "What did you want to ask me, Jakugo-san?"
He frowned, taking a step back and folding his arms across his
chest. He did not make an imposing figure, looking to be as old as Yosho
had seemed in his 'Katsuhito' guise, clad in simple robes and wearing
the medallions over his chest on the right side that indicated his
status as a Council member. Something was missing though, and it only
took Tsunami a moment to place it.
"Jakugo-san, where is your key?"
The man winced, looking away, and mumbling. After a moment he met
her eyes and explained more clearly, "My ship, Astar-oh, was lost in the
Masagiri sector due to some outlaws a few years ago." Frowning darkly,
he quietly added, "They looked like Laruma outriggers."
Tsunami blinked, frowning. Her own tree-self could only distantly
remember Astar-oh's pain before its life was extinguished, crying out to
the nearest ship for help before it perished. And that ship had been
Saryu-oh, which remembered the wreckage clearly enough, and more
clearly, rescuing the man from the void of space before his life support
failed.
She shuddered at the memory. Saryu-oh was not far away, orbiting
above the planet with many other ships in the Home Fleet. Of his crew,
Jakugo was the only to survive. "This was some time ago," Tsunami said
quietly. "Why haven't you taken another tree?"
Jakugo made a face, waving a hand dismissively. "It's of no real
importance, Tsunami-sama. My welfare is as nothing compared to the
welfare of Jurai. Indeed, we must take steps to ensure the safety of the
empire, and I believe that you are an important part of the perseverance
of what safety we have."
"How so?" Tsunami asked, frowning. "I don't like politics -- I never
have."
"Ah, but this doesn't make you any less important," Jakugo said,
shaking his head. "Indeed, Jurai needs your help to preserve it and keep
strong."
Doubtful, Tsunami mumbled, "Tenchi-san is taking good care of Jurai.
Are you saying you want my help to get rid of him?"
"Not at all!" Jakugo exclaimed, shaking his head quickly. "Tenchi is
as much a Masaki as I am, and I wish nothing more than the Empire to be
ruled by those most capable -- and that's us. I'm quite sure that he'll
do more good than evil for Jurai before his reign ends."
Tsunami's frown deepened, considering. "I see. So what do you want
me to do?"
"At the moment, nothing, Tsunami-sama. Simply realize that you're a
valuable and cherished symbol for all the people of Jurai. And know
further that if you should ever need aid or help in some form, I and the
Masaki I represent stand at the ready for you."
Studying the man's eyes, and seeing nothing behind the guarded veil
of his purposeful smile, Tsunami offered a dubious nod. "Of course," she
said quietly, offering a slight bow to the man. "By your leave," she
finished, more out of formula than respect.
The man returned the bow, much more deeply, and answered by rote,
"As you will it."
Tsunami nodded again, swiftly turning away and marching towards her
quarters. She had hoped for some support from the man, given his call to
assemble the meeting with her moth-- with Misaki and Funaho, but all he
truly asked was that she avoid doing anything visible to the public,
because her position was too much for most to bear.
Wiping at a slowly forming tear, she raised a hand to the crossed
branches and vines of the door to her room, which swiftly unfurled and
opened to admit her. They wove themselves silently back into place after
she passed through them, into a room that not even servants could enter.
All of the furniture was grown from the First, just for her, and the
few baubles and trinkets in the room were gifts to her from long, long
ago, when the families of Jurai had thought to curry her favor with
such. None of them were given to her as gifts because she was loved, or
even cared for. Still, it was her room.
A room designed specifically for her, and her alone.
Alone.
Curling up on the large bed, cleaned through the First's innate
efforts, she pulled the finely woven sheet of laboriously grown leaves
over her head.
And cried.
***
Funaho regarded Misaki levelly, dismissing the servant after Tsunami
left with Jakugo. "That wasn't very kind," she informed the other woman.
"Neither were you," Misaki snapped. "Goddess of Jurai or not, she's
not my daughter."
Groaning, Funaho rubbed at her temples. "She's still a person,
Misaki. And now she's very alone, and without any family. I was clumsy
about it, but I only helped the problem. Now, we have a lot of work to
do, and we need to get to it."
"Bah," Misaki grumbled. "This meeting would never have happened if
it weren't safe. We have time enough to sit here and calm down before we
have to watch over your great-grandson."
Funaho nodded grudgingly, pushing the tea away from her and sighing.
"Still, Tenchi is running dangerous territory, and we'd be well advised
to cost him as few allies as possible."
"Well, what allies can he garner?" Misaki asked, furrowing her brows
in thought. "That's your job, really, and he's chosen the Laruma, which
means there's almost no chance of anyone here allying with him. Who's
strong enough to help him?"
"Hakubi, perhaps," Funaho mumbled. "She refused to help Azusa, but
perhaps she will help Tenchi?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Washuu's wily, and has no great love of politics,
either. Who else?"
Lacing her fingers together beneath her chin and frowning, Funaho
hesitantly said, "This is not entirely news, I'd suppose, but rumor has
it that Washuu has some guardian, from Earth. A Terran native would
likely be more amiable to Tenchi's cause, but it's difficult to gain
information on him."
"A Terran?" Misaki mused. "Well, you yourself are formidable enough,
I suppose another could be powerful as well. But if he's Washuu's
guardian, then he's not likely to help us any."
"I've heard it that there's also some connection between this boy,
this... 'Ranma', and Tsunami, as well. Surely she could influence him
and sway him to Tenchi's cause."
Misaki's eyes narrowed. "It all comes back to that, does it? What
kind of connection, and how did you hear of this?"
"Yohito, the captain of Saryu-oh," Funaho explained. "Of course he
was closest to Tenchi and Tsunami on the last return to Earth, so I
questioned him closely. I don't know the extent of it, but apparently
he'd protected Tsunami at some point previously. Yohito himself was
reluctant to question Tsunami, but Saryu-oh was able to glean some
information from her. Apparently she holds him -- whoever he is -- in
_very_ high esteem."
"Yohito... of the Tatsuki clan?"
Funaho nodded, settling back into her chair and staring upwards,
deep in thought. "Yes, that's the one."
"Physical power is not political power," Misaki noted. "Whatever
this 'Ranma' can do, how does it help Tenchi?"
"Tsunami seems reluctant to support Tenchi herself," Funaho said
quietly. "Or Tenchi is reluctant to ask her for support because it might
be seen as a sign of weakness. If that's his thinking, I applaud it,
because he's right. However, if he's allied with someone who the goddess
of Jurai supports openly, it garners him that much more support without
making him look weak for it, especially if it's through an outsider."
"I suppose," Misaki mumbled dubiously. "So we now simply have to
find out how to get him here to use him."
Funaho frowned. "True enough," she said quietly. "But we might be
able to use something of what he says if we can get into contact with him."
"You dismiss Washuu too easily, I think. Isn't he her guardian,
after all?"
"Which makes him that much more worthwhile," Funaho opined. "The
catch is, as before, simply getting him."
"Very well then," Misaki sighed, shaking her head.
Funaho smiled pleasantly, and sipped at her tea, staring out at the
horizon. "It's a nice morning," she said after a pause. "I think it's
just as well that we took something of a break."
***
The door to Tenchi's room slammed open, revealing the massive bed of
the Emperor, rent asunder and the scattered bits of it smoking and
aflame. Above the remnants of the bed, looking down at it dumbly, a
massive cloaked figure stood. Easily three meters tall, by Tenchi's
estimation, and nearly as wide. Gargantuan metal boots poked out from
below the red cloak, as a face covered in a smoothly reflective helmet
turned to regard him.
No features could be seen beyond the armor enclosing the figure.
"Uh.... I think this is the wrong room," Tenchi said dumbly, edging
towards the main door nervously.
"Very funny," the figure remarked, leveling a massive steel fist
towards him. An unfriendly-looking gun-barrel popped out of the wrist of
the armor, directed at Tenchi. He swore softly, and dodged to his right
before suddenly reversing his direction, rebounding off of a large
dresser moments before a number of nearly silent rounds from the
hand-cannon reduced the furnishing to rubble.
Tenchi made a beeline towards the main entrance to the emperor's
suite, throwing himself flat and rolling to one side as the armored
figure leapt towards him. He passed beneath the massive clawed boots
before they tore into the floor, sinking into the wood and bracing the
being as it slammed a fist into the spot where he had been moments prior.
Swearing under his breath, Tenchi leapt to his feet and slashed
across his opponent with his sword, yelling, "Guards!" The cloak parted
beneath the Tenchi-ken's assault, falling to the floor, but the blade
rebounded harmlessly from the armor itself.
However, with the cloak removed, Tenchi was able to see the figure
more clearly. It was as he had guessed, a gargantuan suit of some kind
of armor, heavily reinforced, and he could only guess at the creature
that lay within. Still, whoever it was, they were trying to kill him,
and that struck Tenchi as a bad thing. He fumbled with the ring on his
finger for a moment, activating the battle-gear that Ayeka had given him
so long ago.
And not a moment too-soon, as one of the massive feet of the armored
figure crushed into his chest and flung him across the room. He impacted
roughly with the far wall, and slumped to the floor, crouching low. The
pain wasn't unbearable, merely extreme. "Guards!" he yelled again,
gasping, Rolling to one side, he used the Tenchi-ken to create a
protective barrier as another salvo of the nearly silent rounds flew
across the distance between him and his assailant, destroying more of
the furnishings in the already devastated room.
"Damn it!" he swore. A nagging voice informed him dryly that if the
guards were coming, they would have been there already. Lurching to his
feet, and still deflecting the assailant's shots with the Tenchi-ken's
shield, he staggered to the doorway. There were other guards, and Tenchi
didn't feel the need to fight some over-armored thug alone when more
help could be summoned easily.
The salvo of projectiles tapered off, as the armored figure
grumbled, stomping towards Tenchi swiftly, the gun folding into the
armor only to be replaced by a number of claw-like blades. This was
_not_ what he needed to greet him in the morning.
He dove for the door, slashing at it with the Tenchi-ken instead of
pausing to scrabble with the handle. Not made to stand as any real kind
of barrier, the door toppled, and Tenchi landed atop it, sliding across
the carpet on one panel, and from there down the flight of stairs
leading to the bedchamber.
The guards, as Tenchi had half-expected, were nowhere to be seen.
The armored figure tromped after him, leaping down stairs that were too
small for its feet ahead of him. Tenchi rolled off of the door and
caught himself on the hand-rail aside the staircase, while the door shot
out beneath him, bouncing off of the floor at the bottom of the stairs
and slamming into the armored figure.
Unsteadily reclaiming his feet, Tenchi threw himself at the door,
obstructing the assailant's face as it was, and rammed the Tenchi-ken
forward to stab easily through it, and into the armored figure with a
far greater deal of resistance. Yelling savagely, he rolled onto his
back, tucking his in as he yanked the Tenchi-ken out, and the door fell
atop him. His feet lashed out, bouncing it into the figure's face again,
while massive metallic hands fumbled to remove the obstruction. Rolling
to one side, Tenchi scrambled behind the figure, and charged full-bore
to the end of the hall at the bottom of the stairs.
There should have been another pair of guards outside the door,
though Tenchi didn't place high hopes on it at that point. Hearing a
scream of rage from behind him, he dove to the floor, swearing as the
carpeting near him exploded violently from more of the nearly silent
projectiles. He hissed in sharp pain as a ten-centimeter long metal
needle lanced through his arm, not stopped by either the Tenchi-ken's
barrier, or his battle gear.
"Flechette rounds will still get you," the attacker mumbled,
leveling another gun-barrel-bearing fist towards Tenchi.
Swearing loudly again, Tenchi scrambled to his feet, turning to face
his assailant side-on, to present a slimmer targeting profile, and
focused his power on the barrier before him. Brightening from a vague
bubble, the power condensed into a solid wall of force, both the
Tenchi-ken's gems flaring brightly. "Who sent you?" Tenchi demanded,
flinching as a number of much louder shots rang out. The barrier halted
the needles -- barely. He knew his strength wouldn't last much longer,
and he had no way of knowing how many more shots his attacker could
afford to take at him.
The figure snorted derisively, not answering. Tenchi grimaced,
trying to calculate whether or not he could make it to the door before
he ran out of time.
That idea proved itself moot, as one side of the corridor exploded
across the armored figure.
Tenchi sank gratefully to his knees, as Ayeka's familiar guardians
arrived at either side of him, adding power to his waning shield, and a
dual pair of red flashes tore through the smoke obscuring Tenchi's view
of his assailant.
Recovering himself, and sparing no time for the as-of-yet unhealed
wound on his arm Tenchi charged forward, knowing that Ryouko was already
battling whoever his assailant was. "Aw, crap," he distantly heard,
recognizing it as being the voice of the attacker through the suit's
speakers.
Ryouko snarled something fierce, slamming one blade into the sternum
of the armor, unmindful of the thick, red blood that boiled out from her
attack. "You won't hurt my Tenchi," she screamed defiantly, teleporting
away as the armored figure made an attempt to grab her. Reappearing at
Tenchi's side, she seized him before he could protest, and warned, "I
know this kind. They self-destruct when you damage them enough."
Growling unhappily, Tenchi remained silent as Ryouko paused and
deposited Tenchi and herself at Ayeka's side. Ayeka stared down the
hallway in consternation, the doors having been dissolved through some
other agent. "Azaka, Kamidake," she ordered primly, "seal off the
explosive radius and contain the damage."
"Of course," the guardians answered in tandem.
Tenchi blinked, trying to come to grips with the situation. "This
isn't normal, is it?" he asked worriedly.
"No, Tenchi-sama," Ayeka answered, turning to him and fretting over
him, wincing when she saw the spot of blood from his wound. "Something
seemed odd and Ryouko suggested that we see you to follow up on her
suspicion. Assassination attempts are not common to Jurai. We must find
out who did this."
"That's not going to be easy," Ryouko grumbled. "Cynax assassins
leave no clues behind. Death before dishonor and all that garbage."
"So what else do you know about them?" Tenchi asked, frowning as two
of Ayeka's smaller guardians lanced his wounded shoulder with small blue
lights, slowly reweaving the damaged tissue.
"I didn't think any of them would agree to a job like this, really,"
Ryouko mumbled, not even glancing aside as the corridor filled with a
silent, noiseless explosion of light, kept at bay by Azaka and Kamidake.
"Whoever sent him had to know he would fail. It was probably sent as a
warning."
"Not a very good one, I should think," Ayeka grumbled darkly,
shooting a glance at the ruined hall as the light faded. "What did he
say to you, Tenchi-sama?"
"Nothing," Tenchi sighed. "I guess someone doesn't like my style of
running things here."
Ayeka yelped softly, as a crackling field of blue force sprang up
around Tenchi, pushing both her and Ryouko away. Glancing to one side,
Tenchi noticed both Misaki and Funaho running towards him, both of them
furious. "Where are the other guards, anyway?" he asked, as the pair
drew near.
"Dead, most likely," Misaki stated evenly. "Are you wounded at all,
Tenchi-sama?"
Tenchi shook his head, testing his shoulder experimentally. "No," he
said after a moment. "I think Ayeka got it. I'm okay."
Funaho eyed him carefully as the crackling field dissipated, then
turned to Ayeka. "We have much work ahead of us," she said quietly. "I
rather suspect we should begin the investigation immediately."
Ayeka nodded hesitantly, following Funaho as she marched away, the
elder woman bristling quietly.
Misaki rounded on Ryouko the second that Ayeka and Funaho were out
of sight, fuming, "You're supposed to be my successor, Ryouko! It's
going to be your duty as the Supreme Commander of the Royal Bodyguard to
protect Tenchi-sama. Where were you?"
Ryouko glared at Misaki balefully, and grumbled, "What do you want
me to do to protect him, sleep with him? I'd be happy to, you know, if
that's what it takes." Tenchi's eyes widened in alarm.
"That's a step in the right direction," Misaki said, her fury
abating suddenly. "I forget myself. I apologize. This was a lapse on my
part, and I shouldn't have allowed myself to be distracted. Ryouko-chan,
we have much to do, and there's a busy day ahead of us yet."
"You can say that again," Ryouko muttered. "I'm not leaving Tenchi's
side again, ever." Glancing at him, she latched onto him securely,
embracing him and nuzzling his face gently. "Never."
"Uh... don't I get a say in this?" Tenchi asked.
Ryouko and Misaki turned on him together and announced, "No!"
Hanging his head, Tenchi sighed. "Okay. Well, since we don't know
who sent the assassin at us yet, we should pool our resources, and be
really careful about what we let out about this whole thing. Um....
Ryouko, we're going to need to track down Ayeka again. The investigation
may have to wait for a moment. Once we find her, we need to repair the
damage here, and do whatever we can to hide that this ever happened from
everyone else."
"Hide it?" Ryouko asked, furrowing her brow in confusion. "Why do we
want to hide it?" Misaki nodded her own curiosity at Tenchi's plan.
"We need whatever we can get, and we can't afford to appear weak. As
far as I can tell, I don't have a real good grasp of this whole
'emperor' thing, and it kind of hinges on representing a strong image.
So when I show up in council today, I'm not going to be wearing this,"
he said, gesturing to himself, still in his battle garb. "I need
something more casual than normal for the council meetings today."
Misaki raised an eyebrow, and shook her head doubtfully. "Risky. You
could upset people with an act like that if you're not careful."
"I plan to step on a lot of toes," Tenchi mumbled. "And I don't
intend to give whoever sent the assassin after me the satisfaction of
seeing us scared."
"Maybe you should just wear that, Tenchi," Ryouko protested, eyeing
his clothing. "It's safer."
"I don't need to," he answered firmly. "I trust you and Ayeka, and
Misaki and Funaho. I'm personally more worried about Karau."
"I'll have a contingent of guards check on his welfare," Misaki
muttered after a moment.
"Great," Tenchi said, smiling confidently. "Come on, Ryouko, we have
a lot of work ahead of us today. And, um, while it's good to have you
near, you might want to let go of me while we're in public. I want to
make it look like I'm confident enough that I don't need a bodyguard
that close to me." Pouting, Ryouko nodded, and released Tenchi from her
embrace, floating just behind him instead. "Right. Let's get to it."
***
Unsettled from a dream he remembered far too well for his own
liking, Yakumo woke, staring about with some confusion. The girl at his
side, sleeping against him, head resting in his lap was not Pai, which
simultaneously disappointed and pleased him. That she wasn't there meant
she was safe from the current threat. That she wasn't there also meant
that she could be in danger from some other threat that Yakumo couldn't
hope to counter.
The aches and pains of sleeping in his awkward position were easily
dismissed. Pain was nature's way of notifying a body that it was
potentially incurring damage. When that damage ultimately only meant a
moment of time spent regenerating, then that pain became far less
important. Any kinks or strains would heal given a few minutes to do so.
But that was distracting himself from the issue. More pressing was
the question of why he was able to see into someone else's dreams. He
remembered that Pai had told him that Wu often reached new heights of
power when their... partners, he supposed... were threatened, but that
made no sense. If Pai were in danger, that kind of power wouldn't make a
great deal of difference at the moment. More importantly, how did the
ability to see into Ranma's dream -- as strange as it had been --
benefit Pai?
He sighed, craning his head upwards. Unable to see over the level of
the windows to the ground outside, he was able to see the lightening of
the sky as the sun prepared to rise for another day. The bus driver
knuckled back a loud yawn, and one of the sleeping Marines in the seats
nearer the front stirred, climbing to his feet and mumbling at the
driver. The driver said something in return, and then there was some
indistinct radio chatter before the bus pulled over against a gravel
shoulder, the stop jarring Ranma awake.
Opening eyes wide, he glanced around himself, frowning, then sighed,
unable to escape the clutches of the women clinging to him. "Morning,
Yakumo," he said quietly, eyeing the clinging redheads.
Yakumo smiled weakly. "Morning," he returned. "What's the plan for
the day?"
"Keep on moving, I guess." Ranma struggled to stand, but the
younger-looking redhead -- the one with shorter hair, thought it was
still quite long -- made a noise in her sleep, and tightened her grip
about his waist. After a moment, the other made a similar noise, and
too, tightened her grip. Ranma sighed, grumbling, "Or maybe I'll just
stay right here."
Ami moaned quietly and sat up, still half-asleep. Yakumo glanced to
her, as the blanket slipped from her shoulders to pool behind her, and
winced in sympathy as she whimpered at the stiffness that had settled
into her from the awkward sleeping position. "Morning," she mumbled,
voice cracking.
Yakumo shook his head, handing her his canteen wordlessly, and
turning his attention to Ranma, as the girls clinging to him slowly
woke. Washuu, of course, though Yakumo didn't know her well, was the
leader of the group, and the shorter redhead was Ranma's daughter in
some senses. Of course, she was also mostly mechanical, but Ranma didn't
seem to mind about that too much, and being an immortal zombie Wu,
Yakumo couldn't find it within himself to fault him.
Washuu stretched languorously, then curled up at Ranma's side, still
leaning against him. Nuku bounced to full wakefulness immediately, eyes
bright, and hair mussed. "Morning, Ranma-papa-san!" she chirped merrily.
"Morning," he mumbled, glancing to Washuu before scratching the
furry creature that had fallen asleep on his ankles. His partner, he had
told Yakumo. The creature twitched, one ear flicking towards Ranma's
fingers, then mewled softly, stretching in a fashion not entirely unlike
the manner of a cat. "What do we got.... Oh, lovely."
Sighing, Washuu pushed herself away from Ranma to look at him
questioningly. "What is it?" she asked cautiously.
"Your little beacon thing seems to be working," Ranma answered
curtly. "Ran-oh-ki sees about two hundred and forty of the things within
a few hundred kilometers. I'm guessing that the refugees in Australia
are going to be okay."
"Not so sure about us?" Yakumo asked.
"Yeah," Ranma mumbled. "None of them are _real_ close, they're just
milling around under ground. I guess the closest one is about twenty
kilometers off. I'm going to check it out."
Washuu slipped her arms about him and restrained the boy, much to
his dismay. "Not alone you won't," she insisted.
"Fine. Who do I take with me?" he grumbled. "It's just going to make
it harder if I find a bunch of people who need to be brought back."
"I'll go with you," Yakumo offered, standing slowly, stretching his
muscles out as he did so.
Ranma nodded, tossing his partner to Yakumo, who managed to catch
the furry creature. Washuu opened her mouth to complain, but Ranma sank
through the floor, slipping out of her grasp and leaving her to fall
into Nuku, who scratched her head in confusion.
Yakumo snorted, as Ranma appeared at his side a moment later,
smirking. "Yakumo's good enough for probably anything," he explained, as
Yakumo shouldered his rifle.
Scowling, Washuu allowed, "Fine, but tell me what you find and be
careful!"
"Sure thing," Ranma answered easily, grabbing Yakumo underneath his
arms and --
-- dropping him off somewhere else.
Yakumo staggered, horribly disoriented by the shift, as Ranma landed
at his side, watching him carefully. "You okay?" he asked.
Nodding, Yakumo dismissed the nausea, looking around and taking in
the surroundings. "Where is this?" he asked, curious.
Ranma shrugged, staring about himself as Ran-oh-ki struggled from
Yakumo's hands to climb atop his shoulder. "When me and Pops came back
from Jusenkyou, we passed further north. Then we swam from the coast to
Japan," he offered. "Further north of here, maybe a hundred and twenty
kilometers is a big farming area. We got a nice break running through
there, much easier travel."
"How close are we to where we're going?" Yakumo asked, regarding
Ranma closely.
"Uh... well, I guess we're about half way to Madoi, which is
probably the closest we can get on an easy road to Jusenkyou and the
Joketsuzoku village. Um... from Madoi, we might be able to take boats
through Ngoring Hu, then up some of the other streams towards Yagradagze
Shan, which is only about twenty kilometers or so away from the
village." He shook his head, shrugging. "I didn't pay much attention to
the route that they planned on -- we can ask later, and Cologne probably
knows an easier way to get there."
"You know a lot about Chinese geography," Yakumo mumbled, looking
away from Ranma, and glancing around what looked to be a tiny farming
community. They stood atop a farmhouse, with a few small outlying
buildings. The entire area looked to be deserted, the pair of dirt roads
leading north and south not appearing to have been traveled any time
recently. "I've been to Tibet," he remarked, jumping off the roof and
landing in the yard before the house, bones creaking protests at the
jarring impact.
"Where?" Ranma asked, drifting at Yakumo's side, though his eyes
appeared distant.
"Nyima," Yakumo answered, shrugging. "Spent a few months learning
Wang Chung Kung Fu."
The boy snorted at Yakumo, asking, "In Nyima?"
"Hey, I'm not half bad," Yakumo grumbled. "I also spent time
learning beast magic and, after the Qvansti showed up, some time with
the Yakuza."
"Right. Ran-oh-ki senses a reaver not too far away, and a couple of
people underground pretty close by. They're probably hiding from it."
"And it's not attacking them because it wants to lure us in," Yakumo
said, nodding slowly. "Makes sense. There's two of us, what can a single
reaver do?"
"We're about to find out," Ranma mumbled, tensing his shoulders and
drawing his sword.
***
Ami sat opposite Washuu and Nuku while the convoy was temporarily
stalled. Some of the vehicles' engines needed a little time to cool
down, and more needed refueling from the pair of tanker-trucks that were
in the convoy, so while the Marines maintained the vehicles, everyone
else took advantage of the opportunity to stretch and eat.
A not-quite-vacuum sealed sandwich package sat in her lap, obviously
wrapped at a lower altitude, as the plastic was bulging outwards. A
similar sandwich had been gathered for Yakumo, and sat next to a pair of
juice cans, but Ami's attention was focused on her computer. Washuu too
consulted her terminal, one of the stray leads linked to Nuku's
ear-sensors, while the scientist explained, "Finding something for you
to eat is easy, Nuku-chan, but finding something that's _good_ for you
is going to be a more difficult problem. You're going to need to have
most of your systems replaced when I have the time."
"Nuku-Nuku is not broken," the girl said defensively. "Does not need
to be fixed if she's not broken!"
Washuu shook her head, smiling slightly. "That's partially true,"
she allowed. "The systems your builder created you with are remarkable,
but built entirely of Earth-native alloys. You're going to wear yourself
down in a number of months, and will require constant maintenance."
Nuku blinked, not seeming to like that idea. "Nuku-Nuku is dying?"
she asked quietly.
"No. Your systems are all designed well enough to allow you to
survive for much longer than that, but how long is questionable. Your
sensor suite is less than half as refined as it could be -- the sensors
work, but they could be much smaller, and more of them. Your processors
limit your intellectual capacity, which is stunning, given what I would
have assumed. I can replace and refine almost all of your systems so
that you will be like many other beings in the galaxy, able to maintain
yourself with time and matter to build off of."
The girl stared for a long moment, then hesitantly asked,
"Washuu-mama-san can make Nuku-Nuku a real girl?"
"More than that," Washuu noted dryly. "But yes."
Ami realized she was allowing herself to be distracted, and turned
her attention to her computer as it beeped loudly, warning of something.
Keys flew to buttons from long memory, swiftly retrieving a window to
explain what the alarm was about. "Oh!" she exclaimed, surprised. "We
have company!"
"What kind of company?" Washuu asked, glancing over curiously.
"I'm not sure," she admitted, frowning.
***
A klaxon sounded, jarring the blonde from the exhausted sleep she
had finally succumbed to, and causing her to jerk upright, bouncing
against the back of her seat with a startled yelp. "Mihoshi!" her
computer alerted her, while she rubbed at her eyes, blinking blearily.
"What is it?" she asked, unable to remember exactly what was going on.
"We're entering Earth atmosphere!"
"Oh, right! I won't forget that there's no automatic system this time."
The computer whirred a low, grating warning. "That's not the problem
-- you neglected to disengage the booster section before reentry."
She blinked, staring at the control panel she had been slumped
against. Her elbow had nudged the manual override, likely in her sleep,
and as a result.... "What's going to happen now?" she asked, a thin note
of panic entering her voice.
"The booster section contains additional shield reinforcements, but
is not designed to operate within an atmosphere -- your options are
either to attempt a manual correction swiftly, or jettison the booster
to self-destruct."
Mihoshi glanced around worriedly, her mind racing, until she came
across a familiar button. "Oh!" she exclaimed, reaching for it and
slapping it victoriously. "This will solve the problem!"
The computer whirred its low, grating warning, and then muttered,
"Oh, dear...."
Blinking, the Galaxy Police office stared at the depressed 'rescue'
button, and frowned. "It didn't work?"
"Working," the computer answered tersely, as the ground in the
viewscreen -- largely masked behind the bright red flare of the
shielding -- began to draw closer.
***
Yakumo shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably, bearing the rifle in
his hands and glancing around. Ranma's partner sat on his shoulder
docilely, ears perked as he sniffed at the air, whiskers twitching in
the morning air. It mewled quietly, and Ranma nodded in response,
pointing to a patch of dirt a few meters away. "Stand there," he advised
Yakumo, leaping away towards one of the low farmhouses nearby.
Grunting, Yakumo did as Ranma suggested, glancing back in time to
see Ranma slide through the wall as easily as though it were nothing
more than illusion and disappear into the building. He was still
peripherally aware of the reavers in a way that frightened him greatly.
The one Ranma had said was near was at least fifty meters away beneath
the ground.
Waiting, likely. Ranma reappeared at Yakumo's side in an instant,
growling dourly as he dropped a machete to the dirt. "You go in that
house and get them," he spat. "You look more human."
Yakumo winced in sympathy, and nodded his understanding, slinging
the rifle over his shoulder. "So where are they hiding?" he asked.
"Trapdoor in the far back room, leads to a hidden cellar of some
kind," Ranma answered, drawing the sword he had sheathed to enter the
house in the first place.
Sighing, Yakumo trotted towards the house, pausing as an eerie
warning sensation reverberated through his spine. He and Ranma exchanged
a glance, Ranma's partner leaping across the intervening distance to
land in Ranma's outstretched hand before running back to Yakumo. Low to
the ground, and some distance north, a massive red ball of fire was
barreling towards them, streaks of faint vapor spreading upwards from
behind it.
"That ain't good," Ranma noted sourly, taking a wide stance and
raising both arms parallel to the ground, palms facing the oncoming force.
Yakumo shook his head, running towards the house and throwing
himself flat as the ball of fire approached. Ranma's partner tucked
itself into the crook of his arm, and Yakumo obligingly summoned
Chin-Kuu to protect it. Fearing little for his own safety, Yakumo
glanced back to Ranma, who had generated a large wall of blue force that
extended to cover the farmhouse easily, his body braced for impact.
The massive ball of fire slammed into Ranma's wall of force with an
audible impact, not entirely like the reverberations of a bell, tolling
across the area. Finally catching up with the blazing projectile, the
screech and roar of its passage swept outward, shattering the glass of
the farmhouse windows. Yakumo grit his teeth, Ran-oh-ki covering its
ears with its paws.
For the briefest moment, Yakumo thought that Ranma had stopped the
projectile, but in truth it halted for only a heartbeat, before Ranma's
wall of power dissipated, cracking like a pane of crystal. The resultant
backlash flung Ranma backward with explosive force, before Yakumo's
eyesight vanished in a blinding flash of searing fire and light.
Flesh boiling away from the intense heat, Yakumo was only able to
dimly hope that Ran-oh-ki was protected by Chin-Kuu before the
all-too-familiar sensation of death overtook him.
***
The air was cool, and there was a slight, eastern breeze, which
reassured Washuu about the fallout from Shanghai. The breeze meant that
the previous day's nuclear explosions would not be a pressing concern
for the refugees. Ranma's relative silence after he had gone to
investigate the lone reaver bothered her, but with the arrival of the
first wave of Galaxy Police cruisers, that concern needed to be set
aside for the moment.
Ranma could manage himself well enough, and Yakumo -- according to
Yosho -- was _more_ that formidable against the reaver, though Yosho had
been reluctant to go into details about Yakumo's abilities.
Ami, however, fretted constantly, unsure of what to do and watching
the readings of the Galaxy Police cruisers from her laptop. Washuu's own
terminal was displaying a square of static, Mihoshi being somehow unable
to be reached for comment, as the remaining twenty five Galaxy Police
cruisers all locked into a neat orbit, waiting on orders from their
squadron commander.
Who was unavailable at the moment.
Sighing, Washuu surveyed the refugees that had piled out of the
caravan to stretch their legs. Eric and Ray led a trio of other Marines
in a quick circuit of the line of vehicles, scanning for anything that
they would deem potential threats.
And Mihoshi was still not answering Washuu.
"This is becoming annoying," the scientist noted quietly, glancing
upwards. The man who had joined the defenders at the last possible
moment, opting to remain instead of leaving stood nearby, staring
northward and frowning. Washuu glanced that way herself, blinking as she
spied a swiftly growing splash of fiery red accelerating towards the
refugees.
"Oh no," she groaned. "We don't have time-- Defenses, people! Dive
for cover!" she yelled, disabling her console and converting what power
she had available to her to a defensive shield. It would only be able to
stop so much before the entire reserves that she needed to power her
computer were drained, but it would be better than allowing everyone to
be destroyed by the incoming vessel.
Nuku stood further north, head cocked to one side and apparently
unable to hear the order. "Atsuko!" Washuu yelled again. "Duck!"
The young man -- vaguely familiar to Washuu as she braced herself --
dove towards the girl with alacrity that seemed nearly out of place from
such an unassuming figure. He looked little more than an average
Japanese man, wearing a brown jacket and jeans, with a simple baseball
cap. But he moved with a grace that Washuu envied, a relatively harmless
push to Nuku's shoulder throwing the girl to the ground as he leapt atop
her, while the incoming cruiser barreled forward.
***
Careening through the atmosphere of the Earth, unsure of her bearing
and orientation, Mihoshi scrabbled desperately at the control panel,
yelping worriedly as the ship slammed through a barrier of blue force.
The impact threw her onto the very controls she was trying to use and
angled the ship to one side of its prior course, barreling onwards to
uncertain doom.
An outstretched hand to catch herself from the fall ended up hitting
the 'rescue' button a second time while she wailed, "Yukinojo! Help me!"
"Rescue complete," the computer notified her, as the teleportation
and retrieval function activated, grabbing the nearest humanoid target
and teleporting them into the cockpit with her. With her slumped over
the console, the new occupant was dropped directly into the pilot's
seat, and she lurched back into the lap of someone who seemed at least
as confused as she was.
She grabbed onto him, noting a very faint resemblance to Tenchi, and
pleaded, "Help!"
He only managed to eke out, "What the heck is going on, here?"
before the ship lurched again, and his hands reflexively flew to the
manual steering levers. "What the-- how does this thing work?"
"Activating tutorial function," Yukinojo notified them, sounding
almost relieved as instructions flashed across the viewscreen.
"Tutorial? Is this a spaceship?"
"Affirmative. Manual flight control is required, please adjust the
incline of the thrust to avoid striking a civilian encampment."
Rocking back the appropriate lever, and pulling the craft up, the
man exclaimed, "This is so educational!"
***
Washuu winced as the massive craft -- at literally the last possible
moment -- rolled to one side, pulling up after it shot past the caravan
at well over the speed of sound. Turning power back to her console,
while the other refugees picked themselves up from the ground, she
fumed, still trying to contact Mihoshi. "What the hell is going on
here?" she yelled at the unresponsive screen.
Blinking, Nuku climbed to her feet and muttered, "Ran-oh-ki-niichan
says that someone wants help, and he's telling them where he and
Ranma-papa-san are."
"Great," Washuu grumbled. "So he's emitting a beacon that Mihoshi's
zeroing in on-- Atsuko, where is the man who pushed you?"
"Don't know," Nuku said. "He disappeared."
"Lovely. Where's Ranma?" Shaking her head at her distraction, she
tapped her wrist to the bracelet there, and asked, "Ranma? Where are you?"
***
He was brought back to his senses by Washuu's voice, staggering
upwards and shaking his head in confusion. "What the hell was that?" he
mumbled, his entire body aching from the blast that had slammed him into
the soft dirt, and left him to carve a trough a good forty meters long
before he finally came to a rest. Glancing down at his robes, he was
mildly unsettled to find them dusty, but otherwise unscathed.
Washuu's voice reached him from his communicator again, "Are you
okay, Ranma? You just got buzzed by a Galaxy Police cruiser -- it's
zeroing in on your partner, and it's coming back! You need to make
Ran-oh-ki stop trying to call it to him!"
"What?" Ranma asked, shaking his head. Ran-oh-ki was a short
distance away, unhurt, but severely rattled. Teleporting to his side,
Ranma allowed the creature to scurry into the sleeves of his robes and
hide there, shivering. "The reaver here is moving towards -- shit. I
think I can take two birds out with one stone."
He pointedly ignored the smoking corpse that remained of Yakumo; he
had said that he was immortal, and Ranma had no time to spend worrying
about him when there were still living people in danger. The reaver was
headed towards them, staying beneath the ground, and moving slowly, but
Ranma had one idea that could stave it off.
Transferring the gem from his ear to his wrist, Ranma focused
himself. Trying to simply stop that much power had been largely
unsuccessful, but maybe deflecting it would work. And if he could
deflect it at an angle....
***
Mihoshi blinked, feeling thoroughly befuddled at her current
situation. The man whose lap she was sitting in had snapped a few terse
queries to the computer, but actually seemed to be marginally in charge
of the situation.
"Okay," he asked the computer, eyes flickering across the data
streaming past the viewscreen, "how do we get this thing somewhere I can
stop it?"
"Return to nav point alpha, angle all thrust downward, and achieve
escape velocity," Yukinojo offered.
"Just shoot straight up and stop in space?" he asked, not actually
glancing at the small 'face' of Yukinojo.
"Affirmative. Nav point alpha's instructional functions insist that
this is the most efficient method."
"Gotta learn how to do this," the man muttered under his breath.
"Gotta study. Study! Study! Okay, show me how to do it, and let's get
this done!"
***
Bringing the shimmering plane of force back into place, Ranma was
unsettled to see that it retained the fractures from the impact with the
thing Washuu had told him was a ship. The fractures slowly flowed
together, leaving it an unbroken field once more, but only after an
effort, leaving Ranma grateful that he had a spare gem for the task.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered, while Ran-oh-ki relayed what
information he could on the rogue craft.
It streaked towards them suddenly, riding above the ground only on
its drive flame, the fiery exhaust bright red and yellow, searing into
the ground beneath it and throwing up gigantic gouts of molten soil and
rock.
"This isn't going to be good," he winced, extending the plane of
force before him beneath the ground to protect the people in the
enclosed space beneath the farmhouse. They hadn't reacted well to him,
but that was no reason to leave them unprotected.
The ship drew closer, ever so slowly straightening its angle of
thrust to be nearly vertical, but still gliding forward on its built
momentum. Ranma squinted at the brightness, finally able to see more of
the vessel. It was bright red, but more than that would have to wait
until he was able to study it without maintaining the shield, or being
blinded by the glowing intensity of the drive flame.
It brushed against the shield, seeming nearly gentle to Ranma's
eyes, though the stresses through the field he was maintaining told him
otherwise, as the roaring column of fire ate into the Earth, liquefying
the ground below into a molten morass. Clawing its way upwards through
the miasma, as the ship preformed minor adjustments, managing to somehow
stay precariously balanced, the reaver that had been beneath the ground
struggled through the drive flame.
Ranma gaped, unable to counter it as he was maintaining the shield.
"Damnit!" he screamed aloud, wishing he could reach the people aboard
the ship. "Get the hell out of here!"
***
"Notification," the computer announced suddenly. "Nav point alpha
advises full thrust at this point. Inertial dampers are active."
"Okay," the man who was piloting answered, grabbing the throttle.
"Uh... we did all this at two percent, so... full speed ahead!"
Mihoshi whimpered softly, as the sky gave way nearly instantaneously
to the blackness of space. The pilot reacted swiftly, quickly shutting
the propulsion off, and blinking at the screen. "Um, what's going on
now?" he asked warily.
"Shielding is at less than fourteen percent. Our current course is
taking us away from the convoy. Nav point alpha is no longer
communicating relevant data. I would advise that we return to the fleet."
"Okay," the man said agreeably. "How do I do that?"
The computer was silent for a moment, then said, "In a non-emergency
situation, I cannot allow a civilian to operate this vehicle."
"Huh? Why not?" he protested.
"Yeah," Mihoshi added weakly. "Why not?"
"Do you plan to let him pilot your ship, Mihoshi?"
"Sure!" she said, nodding quickly. "He did a good job!"
Turning to the man, still seated comfortably in his lap, she
announced, "I'm Mihoshi! I'm with the Galaxy Police! Nice to meet you,
and thank you for saving me!"
"I'm Oe Kintaro," the man answered, grinning. "You're going to let
me fly this thing some more?"
"Sure! You want to join the Galaxy Police?"
Yukinojo made a muffled sound, then explained, "You are not
authorized to make field recruit--"
"It's an emergency!" Mihoshi wailed over the computer's complaints.
"Let him fly it!"
Sighing in defeat, Yukinojo allowed, "Until he can be further
trained, Oe Kintaro will now be recognized as Cadet Oe."
"Call me Kintaro," he said cheerfully. "Now where do I move this thing?"
***
Ranma staggered backwards, watching the reaver inexorably claw its
way towards the flare of starfire from the ship's engines, struggling
out of the molten miasma of the ruined soil below. The ship's drive
hesitated, waning in intensity for the merest moment before multiplying
its output an untold volume, blinding Ranma to all but a stark white
intensity, and a fiercely penetrating roar.
He knew the ship was gone before his eyesight recovered. The
pressure against his wall of force had been reduced to something that
required far less concentration to maintain, and the deafening howl of
fiercely resonating sound was diminished, fading quickly.
Blinking, he shook his head to clear it of the bright splotches and
willed his eyes to work properly. Within a few moments, he was able to
see again. Everything for several hundred meters beyond the wall of
force he had projected had been reduced to a massive lake of boiling
magma, brightly glowing turf sending faint smoke into the trail of the
now departed ship. "Woah," he said quietly, blinking. The shimmering
plane of force was still there, holding the heat of the devastated plain
behind.
A muffled groan turned his attention elsewhere, and he stared with
no small amount of surprise at Yakumo, who staggered to his feet, burnt
and seared flesh slowly reweaving itself together as he rose. The
shock-wave and heat of the ship's first passage had knocked down the
houses that Ranma's shield had protected and then reduced them to
smoking masses of collapsed wood and masonry.
"Are you okay?" he asked, cursing himself for his stupidity after
the words left his mouth. Of course he would be okay. He was immortal.
Yakumo smirked wryly. "Funny thing is that it hurts less after a
while. You stop noticing the pain. What did I miss?" he asked, glancing
around and picking up his rifle.
"Spaceship buzzed us. Washuu says it's some Galaxy Police or
something," Ranma announced, narrowing his eyes at the rubble above the
group of survivors that the reaver had been headed towards.
"They got the reaver," Yakumo observed, checking his rifle for
damage before setting it on the ground. "Now we need to get those people
out of there before they choke on the smoke."
"Right." Ranma grimaced, closing his eyes and rubbing at his
temples. "I'll teleport them back to the caravan. This should only take
a moment."
Sighing, he split himself into his two separate halves, and
concentrated for a moment. Ran-oh-ki's senses reported exactly where he
could teleport in and grab what looked to be a fair sized family to move
them. "Don't strain yourself," Yakumo advised.
***
"Mihoshi, there's an incoming message for you."
"Put it on the main screen!" she chirped, seated comfortably on
Kintaro's lap, while he learned the controls. As she commanded, a window
of light formed in the screen, displaying Washuu -- or someone much like
Washuu, were she to not look like a child. "Washuu-san? Is that you?"
Mihoshi asked before she could stop herself.
"Yes," the redhead said, frowning unhappily. "What are you doing,
Mihoshi?"
"I fell asleep when we were supposed to stop," Mihoshi admitted,
staring at her lap in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
"I see," Washuu muttered. "Hello, Oe-san. I didn't recognize you
when you knocked Atsuko to safety. Can you pilot that craft?"
"Yes!" he said, nodding quickly. "It's quite educational, really."
Washuu snorted, glancing briefly at something away from the screen,
which prompted her to frown more deeply, then back to Mihoshi and
Kintaro. "Okay, we don't have a lot of time. What did the Galaxy Police
send you with?"
Mihoshi blinked, turning her attention back to the screen, and said
slowly, "We took the cruisers that we could here to provide coverage for
encampments. We don't have enough room to take lots of people with us,
but we brought some equipment with us!"
Washuu raised an eyebrow at that. "What did you bring?"
"Fifty Galaxy Police shock-troops!" Mihoshi exclaimed proudly. "And
some weapons for you, too! Where should we send them?"
A smile came to Washuu's lips at that. "Galaxy police shock troops?
They're good at working in squadrons, you should send them to Australia,
just in case. What weapons do you have for us?"
"Um.... Grandfather-- that is, Marshal Anderson said we should use
something that could make cold, so we got some kinetic displacement beams!"
Washuu's eyes widened fractionally. "Really? How many?"
"Fifty," Mihoshi said slowly. "Which is half of all of them. Twenty
five were given to the shock-troops, so what should I do with the rest?"
"Bring them here, if you can. And, ah, let Oe pilot the ship."
The man grinned slightly, breaking from his studious examination of
one of the instrumentation panels. "I can do that!" he said eagerly.
"Okay, computer, tell me how to land this thing."
***
Bracing himself for the jarring effect, Yakumo landed, winded, not
far from the bus that they had ridden on. Washuu stood nearby, speaking
with a small face on the screen of her monitor, and shot both he and
Ranma an annoyed grimace before turning back. Ami offered Yakumo a timid
smile from her position at Washuu's side.
Ranma sighed, probably tired from teleporting the survivors -- as
much as they had resisted, apparently -- to the relative safety of the
caravan. His partner had climbed from Ranma's sleeve to perch on his
shoulder, while Ranma leaned against the side of the bus.
Yakumo turned his attention elsewhere, watching a man he didn't know
try to show a young girl how to use a sword. A number of other young men
and women looked on, watching the training with interest. Beyond them, a
number of Marines were rummaging through swiftly packed supply crates
and trading numbers back and forth.
Two young men who Yakumo hadn't met yet spoke with Yosho, quietly,
as the somewhat older man nodded judiciously. Washuu nodded at her
viewscreen a final time, and banished it with a gesture before turning
her attention to Ranma. "You were supposed to tell me what you were
doing, Ranma," she chastised him.
He sighed, not meeting her eyes. "It won't happen again," he said
quietly. "Sorry."
Washuu stared at Ranma for a long moment, her green eyes darkening
with sympathy before she said, "Ranma, could you have your partner show
Mihoshi where she can land nearby? She's going to drop off a package for
us."
"Mihoshi? I remember that name. There was a mirror--" He abruptly
cut himself off, shaking his head. "Where can they land?" Ranma asked,
glancing around the area curiously, and rising into the air to expand
his field of vision.
"Some place nearby that's level, and probably a few hundred meters
away. Ran-oh-ki should know the kind of area," Washuu said, frowning as
Ranma continued to avoid meeting her gaze.
Nodding, Ranma turned to face his partner, awkward as it was with
the creature perched on his shoulder. "Okay, rat," he said evenly. "Do
your thing."
The creature shot Ranma a disdainful look before turning its
attention elsewhere and emitting another soft, mewling, "Miyah!"
Ranma grunted, pulling the gem from his left wrist and leaving it to
hang at his ear. "What next?" he asked evenly.
"Mihoshi gives us more weapons. She's managed to get us twenty five
kinetic displacement beams."
Staring blankly, Ranma traded a confused glance with Yakumo before
asking, "What are those?"
Washuu smirked, waggling a finger at Ranma. "I didn't have the time
to make them, and they're complicated enough that the Galaxy Police
themselves only have a few. What they do is create a beam that drains
all of the heat-energy from a target and dissipates it into the
surrounding air. I could explain how, but we're a little short on time.
To make a long story short, they'll freeze the reavers and take all of
their normal heat out of them."
"I'm not so sure about that," Yakumo remarked. "I don't know what it
is, but the reavers already have a way to counter cold. Still, another
weapon is probably a good thing. When we got hit by that ship, I think
my rifle got damaged anyway." He took the rifle strap from his shoulder,
frowning at the barrel as he offered it to Washuu.
Eyes narrowing unhappily, Washuu accepted the weapon. She examined
it closely for a few minutes before sighing, and handing it back. "You
got lucky," the scientist explained. "Only the casing was damaged. But
what do you mean the ship hit you?" She frowned, looking Yakumo over.
Ranma said nothing, and Yakumo cleared his throat, explaining,
"Ranma tried to stop it, but it passed right over us, set some
farmhouses on fire, and that's all I remember for a bit after that."
"The wake of that craft should have killed you," Washuu said quietly.
"It didn't take," he replied shortly, remembering that his outfit
had been seared and charred by the ship's passage. "Anyway, I need to
get a change of clothes, then I'm going to go talk to the people Ranma
hauled out of the basement of that place, to let them know what's going on."
***
Approaching Washuu once Ranma had vanished again, Cologne asked,
"What's the problem?"
The scientist looked at the old woman, then sighed, "He's distancing
himself. He said he'd try his best not to, but he is. I think it has
something to do with Fuji-san, but I'm not sure."
Cologne frowned, considering the situation. "I can't claim to know
what kind of pressures are playing about the boy," she said quietly.
"There's a lot at stake here, though. What do you think should be done?"
"I think that Ranma shouldn't be on this planet and fighting
reavers," Washuu said quietly. "I think he should be living a normal
life, away from this mess."
"But?"
Rubbing at her temples, Washuu mumbled, "But it can't be like that.
For one thing, this is what he wants to do. No, this is what he thinks
he has to do. For another, he's the best."
Cologne snorted, shaking her head. "He's always said so," she said
quietly.
Washuu eyed the much shorter woman. "I meant at fighting the
reavers. But that's aside from the point. Where else could Ranma go,
anyway? He hasn't got anyone who's not here, does he?"
"Well, there are his fiancees," Cologne mused. "One of whom is my
own great-granddaughter." Washuu flinched at that, prompting the old
woman to mask a smirk. "But they're somewhat out of reach at the moment,
and I do not know if they would be able to handle the changes that he's
been through."
The redhead nodded somberly, sighing again. "It's always something,"
she said quietly. "The point is that there's nothing we can do at the
moment."
"Maybe something," Cologne said, smiling pleasantly. "We getting
much closer to my village, after all. We should reach it by sundown if
we start moving again soon, and once we're there we'll have many more
allies to help us. Some of which are more formidable than you might think."
Washuu frowned at that, regarding Cologne closely. "Tell me who Herb
is," she said quietly. "Ranma only said that he knew someone with that
name, and refused to tell me more."
Cologne looked away, staring thoughtfully at a descending shaft of
light, headed for a point some hundred and more meters distant.
"Probably one of the most dangerous men on Earth," she managed after a
minute.
"And this is a good thing how? I really don't like the way you and
Ranma edge around the issue -- I want to know exactly what's going on here."
Meeting Washuu's eyes, Cologne completed, "Herb could be very
dangerous to the reavers."
"And not to Ranma?" Washuu asked insistently. "How dangerous is he?
He's just a Terran, right?"
"Something like that," Cologne mumbled, looking away. "Ranma's
beaten him before."
"I'm guessing there's another 'but' here, isn't there?" Washuu
asked, here eyes narrowing.
"But I don't know that he'll need to fight Herb for any reason,"
Cologne answered, shrugging. "It's not something we should worry about.
We'll reach my village soon, and once we're there, our problems will be
greatly reduced."
Washuu opened her mouth to object, but was cut off Ranma's return,
lugging a large metal crate with him as he arrived.
"The rat found a place for your friend to land," he said quietly,
Ran-oh-ki perched on his shoulder still. "You want me to take you to
her?" He set the crate on the ground, cracking his knuckles and waiting
for her response.
The scientist nodded doubtfully, casting a glance at Cologne before
Ranma gathered her into his arms and vanished again. Cologne sighed,
shaking her head. What prices would everyone pay when this ordeal was
through?
Too much, she thought. Ranma was obviously uncaring of his own
survival at this point, and while that did not bode well, neither did
Washuu's worry for him. That situation would have to be managed
carefully, lest the ordeal damage the army's ability to function.
Cologne frowned at that, staring at the crate Ranma had dropped off,
deep in thought.
While her original plan had been to offer a help allow Ranma to glow
close to Washuu, she could see that there was little she could truly do
to influence them. Washuu was more knowledgeable than Cologne had given
her credit, and as far as Cologne could tell, Ranma happily discarded
all pretenses of romantic inclinations in favor of fighting reavers.
Which was good, to a degree. Warriors should be warriors, but not
nothing _but_ warriors. She raised her head and turned around, nearly
jumping back in surprise when she noticed Yosho standing behind her,
watching her with a raised eyebrow. She scowled at him, and tapped him
on the head with her staff before he could step completely out of range.
"Don't do that," she scolded. "A little respect for your elders, please."
Yosho tried to resist smiling, and said, "Of course. I had wanted to
speak with Ranma, and was going to ask if you'd seen him."
She shook her head, gesturing in the direction that the beam of
light had descended from the heavens and touched upon. "Over there,
would be my guess. He'll be back shortly, with any luck," she informed
him. "What did you want to talk to Ranma about?"
Yosho looked distant for a moment, then explained, "We'd not gotten
as much of a chance to study his sword forms lately, or more
importantly, simply speak with one another."
"Ah," Cologne said quietly. "It seems that everyone wants to be with
Ranma."
"Or at least to help him," Yosho mused, nodding.
"Who will he let help him, do you suppose?"
Neither was sure what the answer to that question was.
[End, Process of Elimination Chapter Eleven, Part One]