The Ramarian Crisis
By DarkHorse
    
Chapter 11: The Ramarian Gambit

*Yoyogi Park Mansion, Shibuya Ward, Tokyo*

    
    Machiko Nomuri, lieutenant of the Marine Corps, veteran of 
Desert Storm, and a member of Lt. Colonel Scott Biggs' 
distinguished Elite Force, leaned against the wall of the 
darkened stairwell between the fourteenth and thirteenth 
floors. She was currently bleeding from various cuts and 
abrasions that covered her lithe body. Soot, dirt, blood and 
scratches marred her otherwise beautiful Amerasian features. 
But in spite of all of that, she was completely alert as her 
blue-gray eyes scanned her surroundings. It was an effort to 
move stealthily but she managed to do so, ignoring her 
various aches and pains.

    She closed her eyes briefly and took deep quiet breaths, 
steeling herself from the panic that was threatening to 
engulf her. The floors above and below her, she was sure, 
were now bustling with alien activity. She hugged the MP5 
tightly across her chest, her right index finger lightly 
caressing the trigger. She should have fled when Hiroshi 
told her to. She should not have stuck around, allowing her 
curiosity to get the better of her. Now she was trapped. She 
couldn't even communicate with Command, her radio having 
been damaged in the blast that mortally injured her best 
friend.

    The thought of Hiroshi caused another wave of misery to wash 
over her. She shook her head and blinked away the wetness 
from her eyes. *This is no time to get emotional, girl*, she 
chastised herself. There was no way she was going to allow 
the aliens to get the better of her.

    Machiko crouched to examine the next set of steps. Even 
though her eyes have long since adjusted to the near 
darkness, she had to make sure that she wouldn't make a 
sound when she started moving. From what she witnessed, the 
aliens seem to be capable of incredible feats of strength 
and endurance. The female alien that she and Hiroshi were 
stalking survived not only the bullet wounds they inflicted 
on her but also the double bomb blasts that obliterated much 
of the hallway of the fourteenth floor. Machiko saw with her 
own two eyes how the alien was able to pry herself from the 
heavy concrete rubble that practically buried her!

    No, there would be no underestimating these aliens, Machiko 
decided. If she was going to escape with her life, she would 
be able to do so only with the utmost of skill and cunning 
that fortunately, her training provided. With her left hand, 
she carefully brushed away bits of rock and other debris 
from the step where she would be planting her foot.

    After removing anything that would cause her foot to make a 
sound, she stood slowly and moved down one step. She was 
about to repeat the process when she heard it. A silent 
crunch. It rose above the various other background sounds of 
fires crackling, concrete and steel girders groaning from 
structural abuse, and water from sprinklers splashing on the 
already wet floor. It was the distinct sound of a 
deliberately placed footstep...from someone attempting to 
walk noiselessly but was not doing a very good job of it.

    Either this particular alien didn't know how to be stealthy 
or he didn't particularly care if he was heard. Superiority 
can breed complacency after all. The problem was whoever 
made the sound somehow knew that she was hiding here. Which 
meant that she was careless as well...somehow. There was no 
time to review her past actions to find out what gave her 
away. She needed to plan...to think of how she was going to 
get past or get through the alien.

    She heard it again. Another crunch of a footstep. It was 
difficult to determine whether it was coming from the floor 
above or below. Machiko groped the armaments she had on her. 
She knew that a confrontation was imminent. *All right*, she 
thought, *I've only got  two full mags of ammo and  a few 
other hidden weapons.* She stayed crouched. She would present 
to the enemy a smaller target. Any advantage she could 
muster could spell the difference between living and dying. 

    *I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be.* And she waited.

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Tanaka angrily unlocked and opened his office door to admit 
one of his assistants. Kin Miyawaki rushed in breathlessly.

    "I was on the phone, Miyawaki. This had better be 
important," growled Tanaka.

    "Sir, have you been listening to the news?"

    "I've got the news on, if that's what you mean," Tanaka 
replied, nodding his head towards the huge TV he had in the 
room. It was currently showing the news of the burning 
Yoyogi Park Mansion condominium building. It was mute 
however.

    "Sir, you've got to listen to what the reporter is saying," 
Miyawaki insisted. He walked over to Tanaka's desk and 
grabbed the remote. He used it to un-mute the TV.

    "Listen, kid, I don't have time to listen to a bunch of 
reporters mouthing news I already know," Tanaka said 
dismissively walking to his desk.

    "No, sir, you've got to listen," the assistant said 
increasing the volume of the TV.

    "...the police have already entered the building and are 
slowly securing every floor. Initial reports state that an 
on-duty receptionist has been found *alive*, bound and gagged 
inside a utility closet," the field reporter on the scene 
was saying. "The identity of this receptionist has yet to be 
released by the Tokyo PD.

    "For those of you who have just tuned in, I'm here right now 
at the scene where multiple explosions have rocked this new 
condominium building early this morning. We have unconfirmed 
reports that this building is allegedly where the aliens are 
now based. I would like to emphasize that this is an 
unconfirmed report..."

    Miyawaki muted the TV once more and looked meaningfully at 
his boss.

    "Aliens?" Tanaka asked.

    "It makes sense, Boss. The building, for instance, is very 
close to Yoyogi Park where the aliens landed a few days 
ago," the assistant paused, waiting for a reaction. "And 
look at that wrist communicator this guy Lam gave you," he 
said after getting no response, "does it look like human 
technology to you?"

    Tanaka slowly raised his wrist and glanced at his comlink. 
He looked up at his assistant. "You're nuts. Now get out of 
my office. I've got several more phone calls to make."

    Miyawaki stared at his boss for the moment, obviously 
confused as to why he wasn't taking this seriously enough. 
After a while he gently placed the remote back on the desk 
and then left the office.

    After his assistant left, Tanaka slowly sat down on his 
leather chair. *Could it be?* He debated whether to confront 
Rogo or Lam with it. No, he decided, he will learn the truth 
from them soon enough. In the meantime, it's best to arm 
himself with information. Information such as if they were 
indeed the aliens that invaded a few days ago, what did they 
really want with the girls? Perhaps he could use this 
information to further persuade them to pay him more than 
the seven million he was already going to receive from them.

    A small smile formed on his lips. Yes, that's right. 
Besides, if they were really aliens then why did they seek 
out his help in the first place? If they were the aliens 
intending to invade Earth, why only send a few? Why not 
attack with all their spaceships or something? And finally, 
if they were the aliens, what did they need the girls for? 
The reporters are just looking for something new to report 
to raise their ratings.

    He took one look at his comlink. It wasn't anything special. 
Heck, it even looked like that new Casio wristwatch he saw 
the other day. Tanaka shook his head. It's all foolishness. 
*Better start earning that seven million*, he thought to 
himself and got back to work.

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Lam and Rogo marched into the room where all the remaining 
members of the assault team were assembled. They had lost a 
total of thirteen warriors to the human attackers. Although 
neither Lam nor Rogo showed it, both were infuriated. They 
were sure that the remaining warriors shared this sentiment.

    "Are all the warriors present and accounted for?" Rogo 
asked.

    "All except Bono," Crata replied. "He detected a human 
lurking around in one of the stairwells."

    Rogo frowned. They didn't have time for this. "Can't you 
contact Bono and tell him to just hurry and dispatch that 
human so he can join us?"

    "I'll contact him right now," Crata said and then moved off 
a short distance to communicate with the absent warrior.

    Rogo turned towards Lam. "Except for Bono all warriors are 
present."

    Lam nodded and stepped forward. "Fellow Ramarian warriors," 
he began, allowing his eyes to sweep across the assembled 
warriors, taking care to make eye contact with as many of 
them as possible, "this unfortunate attack by the humans has 
made it necessary for us to change our plan. All of you have 
already been brief of the *new* plan," he paused, again 
looking hard into the eyes of his warriors. "You all know 
what is required. Now I ask for seven volunteers who will 
remain."

    No sooner had Lam uttered the word "volunteers" did seven 
warriors step forward. As one they saluted by beating their 
right fist against their left breast. He gazed into the eyes 
of each volunteer trying to search for fear or uncertainty 
but found none in any of them. Even as he hated the idea of 
leaving these worthy Ramarians behind he felt pride in them. 
Each of the seven volunteers stood erect and confident 
knowing that if they died it would be as warriors.

    Lam returned their salute. "Very well," he said as a way of 
telling them that he approved of their sacrifice. The seven 
filed out of the room silently. Lam watched until the last 
one had disappeared outside. He turned to look at the 
remaining warriors. "In approximately ten Earth minutes, two 
helicopters will arrive to pick us up on the roof. You all 
know what to do. Any questions?" There were none. "Very 
well, fall out." 

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Bill Winters watched the proceedings detachedly. He didn't 
really mind the fact that Joan was once more handling the 
situation. Heck, he was actually used to it already.

    That's actually what he liked about Joan. She was strong and 
capable. He had always liked his women strong. Not that Joan 
was his woman. At least not yet. Bill could spot a strong-
willed woman from a mile away much like a shark was able to 
pick up the scent of a minute spot of blood from afar. 
Strangely, this was what he was picking up from the two 
girls in front of him. Strength of will.

    He knew there was something about them. At first he just 
couldn't put a finger to it. Except for their extraordinary 
attractiveness (he didn't normally find Asians attractive) 
and involvement in physical activities, there didn't seem to 
be anything special about them.

    But now that he knew what made them stand out, he watched 
them more closely. He had studied the dossier of the three 
girls extensively. Unfortunately, the girl named Fuu Hououji 
was not present. He would have wanted to see how this third 
girl interacted with the two that were present.

    As it was, the girl named Umi was the one communicating with 
Joan. Joan mentioned the word "wormhole" and Umi asked what 
it was. As his colleague began explaining, Bill noted that 
the blue-haired girl's eyes would dart furtively from the 
girl named Hikaru, to the old guy named Malor and the tall 
guy dressed as Darth Vader minus the mask known as Lantis. 
There seemed to be communication happening and yet no words 
were being exchanged. It was as if...as if they were 
communicating telepathically. Bill shook his head. He was 
seeing too much into it, he was sure. At any rate, it would 
be another question to ask as soon they were able to gain 
the trust of these people.

    "So," Joan said, concluding her explanation, "do you 
understand what a wormhole is now?"

    Bill saw all eyes turn to Hikaru. That was really strange. 
The redheaded teenager looked to be the youngest and yet, 
here again, he saw everyone defer to her.

    Joan caught it too. As a matter of fact, she noticed it from 
the moment this little redhead opened the gate. This was the 
alpha female if she ever saw one, the age and looks 
notwithstanding. She now focused her attention on the girl. 
"You seem to know more about wormholes than you're letting 
on," Joan said.

    Hikaru began to fidget, all of a sudden aware that she was 
the center of attention. "I not know what you mean," she 
said, shaking her head but not doing a good job of acting 
all innocent.

    Joan leaned forward, looking right straight into the young 
girl's eyes. "Our interest in your ability to create 
wormholes is purely scientific. If you have been given this 
wonderful gift, then you stand to be in a position to help a 
lot of people," she said. She was gradually getting into her 
element and she couldn't help speaking a lot faster. "The 
potential for progress is endless--"

    "No," Hikaru interjected quietly but firmly.

    "Imagine what we could..." Joan trailed off as she realized 
that Hikaru said something. "What was that you said?"

    "I said no," the redhead repeated. "You must keep secret."

    "But why?"

    "I cannot explain but must be secret for now," she said 
firmly and emphatically.

    For several awkward moments Joan could only stare, mouth 
slightly opened, at the young girl. For her part, Hikaru 
returned the stare unflinchingly. After a while Joan shook 
herself and slowly nodded. "Very well," she said, "it will 
be a secret between you and me...and Bill, of course."

    "Why thank you, Joan," Bill said almost sarcastically.

    For several more moments, Hikaru just glanced between Joan 
and Bill trying to assess whether they were indeed 
trustworthy. Joan and Bill sat stiffly as if any movement 
would influence the girl's decision one way or the other. It 
was obvious that they were holding their breath.

    "Okay," Hikaru said and both astrophysicists immediately let 
out a long sigh of relief. The girl glanced at her friend, 
Umi.

    Umi caught Hikaru's glance and then turned her attention to 
the visitors. "Hikaru has the ability to create portals or 
as you called them 'wormholes'."

    Joan and Bill just sat there staring blankly at the blue-
haired girl. It was exactly what Joan thought it was except 
hearing it now in the open still shocked her. "Okay," Joan 
held up a hand in a gesture to slow things down even though 
Umi had already stopped talking, "so your friend Hikaru has 
the ability to create wormholes."

    "Um, that's what I said."

    "Right," the astrophysicist drew out the word as if using 
the extra milliseconds to absorb this piece of information. 
"How does she do it?" Joan finally asked.

    Umi glanced at her friend before returning her focus to 
Joan. "Hikaru uses her will to create a portal."

    "Her will?" Joan and Bill exchanged incredulous glances.

    "That's correct. Hikaru is the only one with the power to do 
so."

    "Okay. So, does she use a device of some sort?"

    "She uses nothing but the strength of her will," Umi 
reiterated. She was starting to get irritated by the 
repetition but was so far still able to conceal it. 

    Bill leaned forward. "So, it's some kind of magic."

    "It *is* magic."

    Bill and Joan exchanged glances once more. Joan turned once 
more first, to the blue-haired teenager and then to Hikaru. 
"Can you show us how you do it?"

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Bono crept slowly and softly up the stairs. He could sense 
that the human was already aware of his presence. That 
couldn't be helped. There was no time for finesse in this 
situation. This would have suited any other Ramarian fine 
since most would rather just charge in with guns blazing. 
Bono, however, knew the dangers of just blindly going into 
the line of fire. Especially after witnessing the deaths of 
a couple of his fellow warriors. The humans may be inferior 
to Ramarians physically but their weapons have proven to be 
surprisingly effective against them nevertheless.

    The warrior stretched his senses forward, trying to 
determine the exact location of his quarry. He wasn't as 
familiar with human beings as perhaps Rogo and his team were 
but he was getting a distinct perception that the quarry in 
question was actually female. This could prove interesting. 
Even the females in Ramar were not as powerful as the males. 
Could it be different here on Earth?

    For a moment, he considered just leaving. After all, what 
possible damage could one puny human female do? Bono shook 
his head at this thought. No, thinking like that wasn't 
right. Never underestimate the enemy. The two comrades he 
saw die were proof enough of how lethal this mistake was. He 
needed to dispatch this human and quickly. Crata had made it 
clear that if he didn't return in five Earth minutes, he 
would be left behind. While he was not averse to the thought 
of being left behind and contributing to the mayhem that was 
to occur, he believed he would be more useful in the capture 
of the girls.

    Bono took one more step upwards and then froze. His senses 
picked up the faint sounds of the shuffling of several feet 
approaching his location. He cocked his ear towards the 
direction of the sounds and confirmed it. Probably the local 
militia. *Damn!* He didn't need this now. Bono took one more 
glance upwards. He was just two steps away from the bend. 
His quarry was just beyond that. He will have to take care 
of her later. For now, he had to take care of this other 
problem. He just hoped that he would have enough time to 
rejoin the group that will capture the girls.

    With that final thought, the warrior turned slowly and 
quietly made his way down.

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Machiko fought to steady her breathing. She could hear the 
alien slowly coming upwards. Just any second now, he would 
emerge from the lower stairwell and they would then see who 
between the two of them was the better warrior. She had 
sinking feeling that it would not be her. She was scared. 
The thumping of her panicked heart seemed very loud in her 
ears.

    The marine lieutenant readied her submachine gun and trained 
it at the spot where she knew the alien would emerge...and 
waited. Machiko held her breath. Any second now...

    She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the first 
explosion! *What the--!*

    She heard the rapid staccato of returning gunfire. She 
recognized the shots as those coming from an M16. That could 
mean only one thing: the local police. She hurriedly walked 
towards the bend leading downwards. Machiko leaned against 
the wall holding her rifle close to her chest. She slowly 
crouched and peeked down the bend. She could see a lone 
figure firing a weapon that she couldn't recognize--which 
could only mean one thing: this was the alien.

    The alien seemed to be distracted, which presented Machiko 
with a choice she hadn't imagine she would have to make. She 
already had her rifle up, the alien's head right up on her 
sights. Should she take him out or should she attempt to 
take him alive?

    She slowly lowered her sights and aimed it at the alien's 
weapon. He was constantly firing now effectively taking away 
any opportunity the local police might have to return fire. 
Machiko found herself admiring the alien's weapon. It was 
truly impressive. It undoubtedly had superior firepower, 
seemingly able to incinerate and disintegrate anything. It 
also did not seem to run out of ammunition or energy or 
whatever it was it uses for power.

    She groped for the switch that set the firing mode and made 
sure that it was set at semi-auto. Machiko adjusted her aim 
and then slowly squeezed the trigger. She felt the gun jerk 
against her firm grip as the barrel coughed out three 
rounds. She watched as all three bullets hit the gun 
emitting a shower of sparks. By the time she lowered her 
gun, the alien had eyed her with a surprised look on his 
human face.

    "You!" she heard him exclaim.

    The police, having immediately notice that the barrage of 
explosions has stopped, began firing in earnest. Machiko saw 
the alien's body take multiple hits before going down. She 
rushed downwards, a flashbang grenade on her right hand and 
a smoke grenade on the other. Just as she was about to reach 
the landing, she flicked the pins out of the grenades with 
her thumbs and tossed both in the direction of the police. 
All gunfire abruptly ceased as the police was taken by 
surprise by the explosions.

    As she approached the alien, she noted that his eyes were 
open. He had a look on his face that seemed to ask, "what in 
the world do you think you're doing?" Machiko ignored the 
look, positioning herself by his head. She hooked her hands 
under his armpits and began dragging him across the debris-
covered carpet, away from the police.

    She strained under the effort of pulling the alien's weight. 
He was heavier than she expected. From what she saw of his 
height and bulk, she estimated him to be about two hundred 
pounds. The actual weight seemed to be a lot more than that.

    "Geez," she muttered, "what do you they feed you in that 
planet of yours?"

    "I'm not sure it would be something you would know."

    Machiko looked down at creature that just spoke with a 
mixture of shock and fear. His voice did not contain the 
nervous quivering that typically accompanied pain. She 
ignored him for the moment until she could drag him to 
safety.

    She began panting from the effort of pulling the alien's 
dead weight. She needed to find a hiding place soon. The 
police would surely recover from the flashbang pretty soon. 
As she rounded the bend, she spied an open room. She began 
to hustle. Before long, she was able to pull the alien 
across the threshold into the room. Once inside, she dropped 
her cargo unceremoniously on the floor and ran to the door 
to close and lock it. She returned to the alien and with one 
final heave, propped him up against a wall so that he was in 
a sitting position. She stepped back a few steps and raised 
her MP5 rifle, aiming it point blank at the alien's already 
bullet-ridden chest.

    "So," Machiko said nonchalantly, "here we are, alone at 
last," she finished sarcastically. She dropped to a squat, 
her rifle still aimed squarely at the alien.

    "Tell me, human, what is it you intend to do with me?"

    Machiko was careful to hide her amazement at the alien's 
calm veneer. Here he was, bleeding (or at least she thought 
he was bleeding) from several gunshot wounds, many of which 
were fatal were he a human, and yet he seemed unconcerned by 
it all. She looked the alien straight in the eye. "Well, if 
it were up to me, I'd drag you back to my command center so 
that my colleagues can interrogate you. And then, we'll 
probably sell your sorry ass to a lab where they can dissect 
and study your carcass."

    "Ah," the alien countered, "so you human beings are not that 
much different from us, after all."

    "We are nothing like you!" Machiko spat. Her scowl deepened. 
For some reason, his words bit into her being. 

    The alien snorted. "Whatever you say, human. Although, my 
advice to you is that you interrogate me now while I'm still 
alive and while the police have not yet discovered us," the 
alien said and cocked an eye at her. "I gather that you are 
not working with them, yes?"

    "I'm not telling you anything," Machiko snarled but she 
flicked her eyes nervously at the door. The creature was 
right. She had to find a way to get them out of here. She 
was not going to allow herself to be gunned down by 
"friendly fire" when she had already survived this far.

    An idea was already forming in her head. It was risky but 
she didn't have a choice.

    
                          * * * * *
    

    "We've got two men down, Sir!" the leader of Team Alpha 
reported frantically over the radio. "I've got three 
wounded, requiring immediate medical attention."

    Hirota glanced at Jenkins who was standing beside him. He 
raised the radio to his mouth and said, "Calm down, man, 
we'll get to your injured. How much resistance did you 
encounter?"

    "We saw one subject, repeat one subject. He was firing some 
sort of energy weapon, really powerful," there was an edge 
in the voice on the other end. "We took him down but just 
when we were about to push forward, we got hit by smoke 
grenade and flashbangs."

    "Repeat that last, Alpha leader, did you say smoke grenade 
and flashbang?"

    "Roger that, Sir!"

    Hirota saw Jenkins frown. He himself was puzzled. How could 
these aliens, if they were indeed aliens, be using smoke 
grenades and flashbangs? Once again, he raised the radio to 
his mouth. "Is your position clear?"

    "Yes, Sir. We're at section three. It's clear."

    "Very well. Secure the injured. We're sending the paramedics 
to get them. Proceed with the execution plan. Do you copy?"

    "I copy. Secure the injured and proceed with execution plan. 
Roger and out!"

    Hirota marched towards a nearby paramedic just finishing up 
the treatment of an injured resident. "You there!"

    "Yes, sir?" the paramedic stood at attention.

    "I've got five men down on the thirteenth floor, section 
three. The area is clear. Go get them...and hurry," Hirota 
said hastily.

    "Yes, sir!" The chief investigator saw the paramedic run to 
the nearest makeshift clinic and begin addressing his fellow 
rescuers. Okay, that's done. *Where the hell is that 
helicopter?*

    
                          * * * * *
    

    Jenkins watched the chaos with growing frustration. Things 
weren't proceeding in the orderly fashion he was accustomed 
to. Sure, a little confusion here and there was to be 
expected but not like this. Back in the States, in an 
operation like this the Hostage and Rescue Teams, local fire 
departments and the paramedics were much more coordinated. 
If the subjects in the building were indeed aliens, then 
they had to improve the coordination amongst the different 
groups, otherwise...Jenkins shook his head. Something had to 
be done.

    The FBI agent wanted to do something but his hands were 
tied. He was officially just an observer here. The Japanese 
were a sensitive lot. If he interfered it would be deemed as 
impolite, rude and a major breach in political etiquette. He 
wasn't even allowed to carry a firearm, for Pete's sake. 
Back home he was almost never without his sidearm.

    That, however, was not the real source of his unease. He had 
a bad feeling about things. Just as a cornered rat can 
become aggressive and dangerous, so can these aliens wreak 
real havoc. If there was anything he'd learn in his fifteen 
years in the force it was to follow his instincts. And his 
instincts tell him that he needed to voice his concerns.

    Having made a decision, he approached Hirota. The Japanese 
investigator was busy trying to talk to the victims, 
coordinate the actions of the two SWAT teams in the building 
and piece together the puzzle about the true identities of 
the aggressors, all at the same time. He was certainly doing 
too much by himself.

    "Hirota-san," Jenkins said a bit too stiffly.

    Hirota turned to face the American. He cast his weary face 
upwards. "What can I do for you, Robert?"

    "I would like to make a suggestion."

    "Of course," the investigator nodded, "any suggestion from 
you would be most welcome."

    Jenkins saw that Hirota seemed sincere. "I have a feeling 
that our subjects are going to be a lot more aggressive in 
the next few minutes. I suggest we evacuate the buildings on 
either side of the condominium."

    The Japanese first looked at the American and then turned to 
look at the two buildings that were sandwiching the Yoyogi 
Park Mansion. He had snipers on those buildings. Perhaps it 
was indeed wise to evacuate. Hirota turned once more to face 
the FBI agent. "Very well. Let me handle it," he said with a 
final nod before walking away in search of a person to 
instruct.

    Jenkins watched Hirota approach what appeared to be the 
chief of the fire department. "I hope it's not too late," he 
said to himself.


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