Subject: [FFML] [Ranma/Tenchi/Sailor Moon] Process of Elimination -- Epilogue
From: Brian Randall
Date: 4/26/2002, 2:34 PM
To: Innocent Bystanders


	Process of Elimination -- Epilogue

	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). 
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.

	-----------------------------

	'Explorer', they called him. 'Pioneer', sometimes. At the very least, 
'wanderer'.

	He sighed, crouching before his portable stove, and prodding the slowly 
heating pot of soup. The skies overhead were clouded, though to the 
south he could see the massive greenish sphere of Cyaga over the 
horizon. The northern skies offered little more than clouds, but 
directly overhead, the stars glittered without worry.

	"No worries for rain," he mused quietly.

	No one else spoke to him in the solitude, and the wind whispered softly 
through the area that his camp sat in, rustling the tall, leafy grasses. 
It was a forest, he knew. Or at least, it would be someday. For the 
moment, the tallest plants were the grasses, genetically engineered 
oxygen generators. Their entire breeding cycle would end in a few short 
decades, and they would become extinct, providing nutrients to the short 
saplings that were scattered about.

	They were also edible, if not very tasty. Shrugging, he plucked one, and 
nibbled on it slowly, leaning back against his pack, and staring up at 
the stars. "I could look for Akane," he mumbled quietly to himself. 
"They say that they found her."

	He pondered that for a moment before shaking his head dismissively. That 
wasn't something that appealed to him as much as it once had. He had 
thought, those months ago, that it was what he desired more than 
anything else. After what had happened on Earth... he had realized that 
he needed more time to think about things. He was not truly ready to 
grasp the things he had reached for.

	"Guess this is all about growing up," he said quietly. Raising a hand, he 
tapped his headset. "Arms one and two, wrap up your cartography for the 
day and report back to base camp. It's too dark to be wandering around."

	A number of voices responded over the communications line, and in short 
order the rest of the crew wandered into the camp, submitting their 
findings to a satellite uplink. "Anything interesting out there?" he 
asked, rising, and peering at the bubbling soup pot.

	"Maybe a promising iron deposit a few kilometers north, and possibly a 
deposit of gold somewhere west of here, sir. There's a pretty deep 
aquifer underneath this whole area, though," one of the men answered, 
flicking his headset into a pocket. "Jeddah thinks the area is too rocky 
for farming, and Kenshiro says the land's not useful for much else, 
unless the ore deposits are good."

	"We've got time to worry about that later," Ryouga chuckled. "This place 
is still going to be a forest some day, isn't it?"

	"You know, sir, it takes a long time for a sapling to become a tree," one 
of the women complained, setting a small stack of bowls next to the 
bubbling soup pot.

	"Yeah, it does," Ryouga agreed, smiling softly.

	***

	Shifting restlessly from form to form atop the peaked roof of the house 
that was -- ostensibly -- 'his', the martial artist danced about, trying 
to lose himself in the flow of motion. The light of the setting sun was 
his only companion for the moment, though the lights of the city and the 
starport in the distance were reminder enough that he wasn't ever truly 
alone.

	And something about that... suited him. He stopped his motions, sinking 
to sit on the roof of his two-bedroom house, and rested his hands on his 
knees. His shirt sat on the tiles a step and a half away, in easy reach, 
but the pleasant evening cool wasn't extreme enough to make him reach 
for it yet.

	"Is this contentment?" he asked himself quietly.

	"Dear?" someone asked from below. "Are you on the roof again?"

	He snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm up here," he called out. "Didn't 
think that you were going to be dropping by."

	A heartbeat later, a blonde girl leapt up to the roof beside him, 
clasping her hands behind her back, and leaning forward to smile at him. 
"Thought you would be here!" she exclaimed.

	He shook his head. "You found me," he said, adjusting his glasses 
slightly, and returning her smile.

	"You know, with the money you make, you could afford to get your eyes 
fixed," she said. "Then you wouldn't have to wear your glasses anymore."

	"Maybe," he said dubiously. A lifetime of poor sight had lent him better 
knowledge of spatial relations, and his job of assisting landings in the 
starport was one that required a keenly analytical mind. "I don't need 
them to see, but I like them anyway."

	"Why is that?"

	"They remind me of a time when I couldn't see, even when I had them on," 
he replied, grabbing his shirt, and rising to his feet as the girl 
straightened up. She looked at him curiously, one finger pressed to her 
lower lip as she considered what he had said. "It's not important," he 
said, pulling his shirt on. "Why don't we go inside? I bet you didn't 
eat yet, so I'll make you something before you go home. Sound fun?"

	"Okay," she said, her voice subdued. "You know what?"

	"What's that?" he asked, turning to look at her from the edge of the roof.

	"I think you look really good with the glasses on after all," she said, 
blushing faintly.

	Mousse could only grin at Minako after hearing that.

	***

	"What do we do now?"

	A winged woman heard the words, and cocked her head to one side, 
listening for a long moment to the whisper of wind over stone before she 
spoke. "We have to wait, I think. This is not our ancestral home, but 
our numbers are weak, as is our strength. Until we can return... we will 
do what we must."

	"And... how do we deal with the outsiders? Saffron...."

	"Saffron can't guide us anymore. Not for some time. And in this world, we 
are all outsiders. It would be in our better interests to work with the 
others. Until then, we are recognized for our dwindling numbers, and 
have been offered assistance to bolster those. I think Saffron would be 
best pleased by a return of his people to the strength they once were, 
wouldn't you?"

	"What about our privacy?"

	"Some allowances must be made... but some privacy must be maintained. I 
will therefore go... and speak with the outsiders."

	"And of Saffron?"

	"Our lord's business is his own, not theirs," Kiima counseled. "But we 
would be fools to throw away the opportunities we are given today."

	***

	"And therefore, in summation, provided that the majority of your 
constituency agree to the terms on this charter, you are eligible for GP 
aid whenever it's required," the woman said, stifling a slight yawn. 
"Sorry about that. Anyway, I was told that you had already formed your 
global council, as per Jurai's orders? That could simplify things."

	"That's right," another woman said from behind her desk. "We've gathered 
representatives from every culture we could find, and drawn up a set of 
laws that fit within Jurai's dictates, and so on and so forth. Would you 
like to see the data packet, Detective Makibi?"

	"Please," the Galaxy Police officer said, stepping forward and taking the 
packet off of the desk. "And you can just call me Kiyone, if you'd like, 
Counselor."

	"Thank you, Kiyone. You may call me Cologne, if you wish." She smiled 
sadly. "I expect there's rather a lot of work to be done, isn't there?"

	"Yes," Kiyone agreed, scanning through the chart, and glancing around at 
the other assembled counselors. "Best get to work, then."

	***

	Brooding silently near a stand of very young trees, he wondered -- not 
for the first time -- about his betrayal.

	"I can tell what you're thinking," a feminine voice chastised him.

	"Perhaps," he said quietly, evasively. "What do you think I think on?"

	"You're... still angry about what happened on Earth, aren't you?"

	"I am," he admitted after a moment. "It is a blow to my pride, among 
other things. That he trusted others more than me... it makes me think 
that perhaps after all that we fought at one another's side, that he 
never cared about me."

	"You're angry because he doesn't care about you?" the girl asked, 
surprised. "My, I didn't know that your... allergy... affected you that 
much!"

	"It's not that!" he protested. "And you know it, too!"

	"Yes," she admitted, giggling. "But I think you're thinking about it to 
hard, my prince. If he didn't care about you, he wouldn't have sent you 
away to be safe."

	Mollified, he looked away, nervous. "That may be true," he said quietly. 
"I suppose... I suppose it is more that I regret having as little power 
as I truly did, in the end. Forgive me my temper, my princess."

	She giggled at him again, shaking her head. "This time," she said. "But 
diplomatic relations have been strained."

	"Damnation," he growled softly, a smile playing across his face as his 
anger faded. "I propose a new treaty. The Musk nation is willing to 
offer an ice cream sundae to renegotiate the terms of our alliance."

	"Is that so?" she asked, arching one eyebrow and grinning impishly.

	"Purely for political purposes, I assure you, my princess," Herb said, 
chuckling quietly.

	"Of course," Rei said, giggling along with Herb's laughter.

	***

	Hefting a heavy knapsack over his shoulder, and staring up at the large 
building before him, a man paused for a moment, frowning. "Might as 
well," he grumbled, shaking his head, and marching up the steps.

	His knocks at the door were rewarded, a much younger man answering the 
door and greeting him, "Hello! Welcome, are you the new tenant who wrote 
in?"

	"Yeah... I'm... I'm looking for a place to rest for a while," the older 
man said apologetically, setting his bag on the ground at his feet.

	"Well, come in!" the younger man insisted, grabbing the bag before he 
could be stopped. "Are you going to be a teacher? We've started to 
establish this area as a potential district for building a good school, 
and Seta-san's already been put in charge of that project. I can get him 
for you, if you'd like."

	"Ah, I can teach military strategy, but I suspect that's not as useful as 
it once was, and the Juraians have a low opinion of nuclear energy, so 
that's out, too," the man said, sighing. "I'm... I'm probably going to 
try and sign up with the Galaxy Police eventually."

	"Oh?" Keitaro asked, cocking his head to one side curiously. "What will 
you be doing until then? I read that you were... ah... there for the 
final conflict."

	"I was," Norris said frankly. "And I think I've got a lot of writing to 
do before I'm ready to rejoin a service -- any service."

	***

	The main plaza before the starport was crowded, people milling about and 
looking about during the grand opening. A young man sighed, lacing his 
fingers together over his head, and pushing them upwards until his 
knuckles popped. "So, what's up for today," he asked conversationally, 
not looking at the person he addressed.

	She snorted, answering swiftly, "Well, we've got a lot of people that 
still haven't manage to find their families, and the GP keep bringing in 
people who left Earth before Ginraii showed up. So before they settled 
down and look on their own, we try and manage a database of who's where, 
and what they're doing."

	"Volunteer work is boring," he griped, dropping his hands to his sides, 
and peering through the crowds. "Hey, wasn't that lady there the last 
couple of times we came through here?"

	The girl looked up from her electronic clipboard, and glanced where he 
indicated. "I think so," she said slowly. "Why don't we go ask her who 
she's looking for?"

	"Feh. Fine, fine. But the odds of this lady looking for someone either of 
us knows are pretty damn unlikely, I think," he grumbled, striding 
through the crowd. For the crowd's part, people parted before him 
without seeming to be aware that they did so, until he was standing 
before her, the girl directly behind him when he halted. "Yo!" he said, 
raising his hand. "We're helping people look for lost relatives and 
friends. You here looking for someone in particular?"

	The woman blinked, eyes widening as they fixed on him. Something... 
something in those eyes was not quite right, though, and it unnerved him 
very faintly. "I'm... looking for my son," she said quietly. "He... he 
left on a ship from Earth. I... I lose the papers that said which one, 
but it was before the Juraian people came to Tokyo," she answered slowly.

	"Yeah, okay, I can understand that," he said, nodding. "What's his name? 
And your name, for that matter?"

	"I... I'm Saotome Nodoka," she said, bowing politely.

	Ignoring the sudden chill running down his spine, he returned the bow.

	"Okay, and, uh, who was your son?" the girl behind him asked nervously.

	"His name was Ranma. I... a monster... or maybe some space creature tried 
to convince me that he was my son once," the woman sobbed. "But I know 
he left! He left with Akane! Tendo Akane, he'd be with her -- he's not 
some monster!"

	"Oh, well, we'll keep that in mind," the girl said uneasily. "I, uh, 
don't know--"

	"The only Ranma I know is way too good to be your son," he overrode her 
suddenly. "So, sorry about that." Not waiting to allow her to reply, he 
spun, grabbed the girl that had been behind him, and leapt upward, 
landing atop a nearby light post and staring down at the crowd.

	The girl cradled in his arms sighed, shaking her head. "Ryu-chan, I don't 
think that was the best way to handle that," she chastised. "Even... 
even if...." She trailed off, sighing, and clutching her clipboard to 
her chest.

	"Well, whatever," he grumbled. "I like to think I know Ranma pretty good. 
I trained with him on the fleet to Shanghai -- Ranma's a hero, and a 
hero deserves better than some woman who's going to call him a monster 
for a mother."

	"Maybe you're right," Makoto said weakly. "I don't know if she could 
handle the truth anyway. Still, Ryu-chan, you could have been polite 
about it."

	"I'll be polite next time," he said, shaking his head, and leaping down, 
towards the gates of the starport, sill within the cloak of the 
Umisen-ken. "Until then, there are other people to help."

	***

	"Hello, I was wondering if you've seen a girl I'm looking for I'm--" He 
broke off, sighing, as the man he was trying to ask wandered off. He had 
been searching since the moment he landed, only pausing to contact... 
his friends. Yes, that's what they were. People who had no issue with 
his strange immortality, and people who remembered the long fight on 
Earth before everyone left.

	"Hell," he grumbled, as everyone wandered off. "I don't even have a 
photograph anymore. Stupid reavers."

	He considered something for a moment, then pulled a map from his pocket, 
sparing a glance towards the bright sky before scanning the folded and 
much abused paper in his hands. "The old man lives around here 
somewhere. I'll drop in and say hello before I start looking again."

	Course decided, the map was folded up and tucked away, and he began 
marching down the street. The town was small, having no starport of its 
own. It sat near the southeastern edge of the ungainly splotch of 
habitation that had formed from the initial landing site on Terra Two. A 
slight breeze picked up a faint layer of dust, and he couldn't help but 
grin at the ambiance.

	It wasn't Earth, and it never would be... but it was home anyway. A 
blessed home away from the memories of constant violence that occupied 
his mind when he thought of the old Earth. Maybe being put to sleep for 
a thousand years would serve it better, in the end.

	He scratched his head, walking up a set of stairs in the side of a hill. 
"Old man must not like guests much," he grumbled, staring upwards. They 
stretched out of sight, occasional torii crossing overhead. Shrugging, 
he set about climbing the stairs, welcoming the faint burn of exertion 
over time. It was so nice to feel those subtle pains of everyday life, 
not the overbearing pain of constant strife.

	Musing over that, he topped the final step, and peered about. The hilltop 
was covered with a shrine, obviously newly built -- like everything else 
-- though the trees on either side of the path seemed far older than 
they should have been. "Huh," he said, turning to regard one closely. 
"This looks like it should be about twenty years old... old man."

	A chuckle sounded behind him, as he turned back to face the courtyard 
before the shrine. "You heard me coming?" the man standing there asked, 
adjusting his spectacles slightly.

	"Nah, just guessed. If you weren't there, I'd still look pretty slick," 
Yakumo said, grinning. "What have you been up to, Yosho? I would have 
thought that you'd do something else with your time than run a shrine."

	The old man winced slightly, and shook his head. "Call me Katsuhito," he 
insisted. "I... I trust my grandson to manage his empire well enough. 
This is not the Earth I intend to live out my days on, but I imagine 
I'll be here for a long time... and being a shrine priest is something I 
enjoy doing more than other things I can do."

	"You still haven't told me why these trees are so much older than the 
other ones," Yakumo accused, grinning. "Dodging the question, eh?"

	"I would never dodge an important question like that!" Katsuhito said 
indignantly. "But I took in a wandering girl a while back as a shrine 
maiden -- you should meet her."

	Yakumo opened his mouth to protest the lack of answer, but his jaw merely 
hung open, as his eyes fixed on the girl over Yosho's shoulder, dressed 
in shinto shrine maiden attire, and blushing at him shyly. "You win this 
round," he said, finally finding his voice. "Pai!"

	"Yakumo? It _is_ you! Yakumo!"

	***

	Padding across the cleanly polished floor of the great mausoleum, 
terminal in hand, a young woman brushed a stray strand of blue hair from 
her eyes. Her computer chirped softly, and a voice called to her on a 
headset, warning, "There's some instability in the new memory block you 
assigned to temporary archival, Mizuno-san."

	"It's a hardware fault, probably," she returned, snapping her laptop 
shut. "They said it might not survive transit.... How much backup do we 
have available?"

	"Ah... three petabytes to spare."

	"Okay, put everything on temporary backup, and eliminate the bad sectors 
from the new core. Then copy everything from backup onto it, and compare 
it to the backup once it's transferred. If there's a one hundred percent 
correlation, then the damaged sectors won't spread."

	"Understood. If they do spread?"

	"Then it's a big paperweight."

	A chuckle came across the connection, and there was a moment of silence. 
"Beginning transfer now, Mizuno-san. This is likely going to take 
several hours. Do you have any other instructions?"

	"Let me think," she said, pausing her walk and pursing her lips. "Steal 
some storage space and processor time from the orbital mapping system."

	"Mizuno-san! We can't do that, we need that survey data--"

	"Have a little more faith in the people who are mapping on foot. And I 
didn't say all, just their own functions. We want to keep adding the 
incoming packets to the database, after all, but they can fill in for 
some of the missing persons identification database functions, until the 
new core is verified."

	"Understood," the reply came, much subdued. "What do we do if the core is 
not salvageable?"

	"I have a friend with connections, if it gets to that," she said quietly. 
"But we'll try not to bother him at the moment. Now if you'll excuse me, 
I need to monitor Selene's functions before we move on to the new core."

	"Okay, Mizuno-san. Stealing processor cycles from the satellite network now."

	She shook her head, removing the headset, and tucking it into a pocket. 
Striding across a few more steps of the black marble beneath her feet, 
she approached a large crystalline sarcophagus. Her laptop slid into a 
small pocket on one side of the structure, as lights began to blink on, 
brightening the interior of the large room.

	"Good morning, Selene," she whispered as her laptop opened connections to 
a very important computer, the one that maintained the environmental 
functions of the crystalline formation before her. She took a few steps 
to one side, leaning across the flat top, and brushing aside a layer of 
ice crystals, peering within. "And hello to you, too."

	She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I suppose Mamoru got 
lucky, just going into hibernation," Ami reasoned. "Higurashi got worse, 
after all.... I hope I live long enough to see you wake up, Usagi. 
And... when the Earth thaws enough for him to wake up, you will, too."

	***

	"Will you be going outside today?"

	That, of course, was the question, and one she wasn't certain she was up 
to answering.

	Outside was so bright and cheerful....

	"No," she whispered. "I... I think I'll stay inside today."

	"You... you can't stay inside forever, you know. I.... I don't know what 
I would have done if Haruka had... had.... I have sympathy for you, but 
you can't stay inside forever. Do you really think it would make him 
happy to see you so sad?"

	"No," she whispered again, eyes brimming with tears. "I know he wouldn't 
be happy. He would want me to be happy. To go outside and enjoy what he 
won for all of us... and whenever I go outside I'm reminded of him 
again, and it hurts."

	There was a moment of silence then, her hands carefully clutching a 
carefully preserved silk handkerchief and dabbing at her tears. 
"Maybe... maybe tomorrow I can go outside, but not today. Please, 
Michiru, not today."

	"Okay, Hotaru. I.... We'll go for a walk tomorrow. Maybe we'll look at 
some of the new parks they're building."

	"That... that would be nice," Hotaru said quietly. "I.... I will try."

	Michiru smiled softly. "I know you can do it."

	***

	Sitting beneath a short sapling, a woman allowed herself a moment of 
reflection. "So much lost, and at the same, so much gained," she mused, 
one hand resting atop a book in her lap. "You'd think I would be more 
resentful, but for some reason, I'm not."

	"Resentful?" a small black cat asked slyly. "I never took you for the type!"

	"Oh, hush," she chastised the cat. "I was saying that even though the 
future has been changed beyond anything I ever knew, I can't help but 
think that maybe it's better for it. That's all that I meant."

	"Of course," a small white cat said, yawning widely as he did so. "Which 
is why you're on your political fact finding mission...."

	"... by reading books of poetry," the black cat concluded.

	Narrowing her eyes slightly, the woman grumbled, "I don't need to listen 
to you two."

	"You know, I think I know where that man -- Yosho, was his name? I think 
I know where he lives," Artemis commented.

	"Do you? How interesting," Luna responded. "But I don't suppose anyone 
here would be overly concerned with that information, do you?"

	Unable to resist smiling, Setsuna shook her head. "I never spent any time 
with him like that," she asserted. "But... maybe now would be a good 
time to start...."

	-----------------------------
	Author's notes:

	And thusly is concluded book one of Process of Elimination.

-- Brian Randall -- I write fanfiction. Too much of it. You can read it here, thanks to a kind grant from the Larry F foundation: http://www.rakhal.com/florestica/durandall/index.html -- Together. Allegiance or death. BIGFIRE! -- Haiku of my lament: Forgive my spelling, my U.S. education, is the source of blame. .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List----. | Administrators - ffml-admins@anifics.com | | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@anifics.com | | Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject | `---- http://ffml.anifics.com/faq.txt -----'