[FFML] [XOver] Wednesday's Child: Chapter Three

[Tail Kinker]

                        Disclaimer

     Macross is owned by or licensed to lots of people -
Tatsunoko Studios, Harmony Gold, Studio Nue, Streamline
Video...note that none of them are me.

     The same can be said of Ranma 1/2 - Rumiko Takahashi,
Kitty, Shonen Sunday Comics, Viz Video. Not me.

     I didn't create any of them, and I certainly do not
own them.  Any use of them in this story is meant as nothing
more than tribute.  Please don't sue me.


                    Wednesday's Child


          Chapter Three:  The Captain's Daughter



*February 24th, 2000*

     The door opened, and much to Ranma's surprise, a blonde
giant strode through.  The giant glanced at the two beds in
the suite, then tossed his duffle on the one that was in
pristine condition.

     "Master Corporal Gunnar Thorson.  Charlie Platoon,
Sixth of the Second."  The giant held out a paw towards
Ranma.  "Been assigned to this unit for my furlough."

     Ranma took the proferred hand, relieved to find that
the giant at least knew his own strength and was willing to
moderate it.  "First Sergeant Ranma Saotome."  Given the
giant's obviously Caucasian origin, he felt it prudent to
give his family name last.  "Delta Platoon, Second of the
First."

     Thorson blinked.  "Damn.  You must have been in right
from the beginning."

     "Not really.  The UN Marines had been around almost a
year before they formed Second Regiment.  They had funding
issues."  Ranma gestured towards the door on the far side of
the room.  "Head's over there.  Chow call is at seven hun-
dred, twelve hundred and eighteen hundred, but the chef here
isn't terribly inspired.  I can show you to the mess later
on."

     "How long you been at Pearl?"  The giant had started
stripping off his sweat-soaked BDUs.

     "About five weeks now.  Got another three on my fur-
lough, then it's back to the *Marion* for another six-month
deployment."  Ranma closed his book and set it on the table.
"I'm startin' to wonder if signin' up with this outfit was
such a hot idea."

     "Whaddaya mean?"

     "I transferred in from the Japanese Self-Defense
Forces, Special Forces Unit.  I spend six months ridin'
around in a damn boat, spend four months doin' jerk-off work
at some base or another, and two months of furlough.  I
coulda done all that in the JSDF, except without the
friggin' boat."

     "So you haven't seen any action yet?"

     "Oh, yeah.  We hit a trainin' camp on my last deploy-
ment.  The terrorists just folded up on us.  Ran up the
white flag and everything.  We just walked onto the beach
and took 'em all in custody."  Ranma snorted.  "Problem is
that since none of 'em were on our list, they're all back on
the street now."

     "Shit."

     "Yeah.  I wonder how cops can handle it.  I didn't sign
up to be a cop."

     "Listen, as soon as I get myself scrubbed and re-
bagged, what say we answer for mess call?"  Thorson stepped
into the tiny head and started the shower.  "I'm so hungry I
could eat a tiny little Sergeant, bones and all."

     Ranma chuckled.  "Yeah, why the hell not?  I normally
eat in town, but I can help you get familiar with Pearl."

     "Sergeant Saotome?"  There was a knock at the door, and
a thin man, tall and bespectacled stepped in.  "Orders,
Sarge."

     "Thanks, Private."  Ranma took the envelope, then
signed on the Private's clipboard.  He opened the envelope,
and scowled at the contents.  "Man, this sucks.  Furlough
cut short, redeploy tomorrow...must be something major."  He
glanced over at the head.  "Yo, Gunnar.  Make it quick, I'm
starved, and I ship out tomorrow."


                         - - - - -


     "Surprised you didn't know about this place, Sarge."
Thorson had a massive rack of ribs in front of him, drowned
in barbecue sauce.  Ranma had opted instead for a fish tem-
pura, about as close as he could find on this miserable
island to Japanese cuisine.  It was unfamiliar in texture
and taste, but quite easy on the palate.

     "I'm a big fan of food, I'll admit, but this is the
first time I've been at Pearl, and there's a lot of restau-
rants around."  Ranma looked up at the Corporal quizzically.
"You seem to know every one of them, all the bars, pretty
much everything about the town."

     "This is my third furlough at Pearl."

     "Then why did you let me lead you around like an
idiot?"

     Thorson grinned.  "I'm a compulsive people watcher.
You told me way more about yourself than you did about
Pearl, and all you were talking about was the base and
town."

     "Ah."  Ranma chuckled.  "I don't really have such a
knack."


     "Saotome...sounds Japanese.  I don't think you men-
tioned anything about where you were from, except that it
had two really fine restaurants."

     "My family comes from the Nerima Prefecture of Tokyo,
in Japan."  Ranma nodded.  "I'm the heir to a martial arts
family.  That doesn't add up to jack squat in the real
world, though, except that I know how to fight."

     "Is that why you signed up?"

     "No."  Ranma looked down at his tempura.  "My reasons
for joining the armed forces...I'd just as soon not discuss
them.  They are private."

     "Not a problem."  The giant waved them off.

     "Tell the truth, I wasn't a very good fit for the Army.
Kept screwing things up through Basic."  He indicated his
Chinese tang and pants.  "I don't like uniforms, never did.
Don't care for discipline, at least not Army style.  The
Marines were a better fit for me, except that my curse and
water make for a rough time."

     "Curse?"

     Ranma picked up his waterglass and upended it over his
head.  Thorson's eyes widened as Ranma shifted forms.

     "Cold water turns me female."  Ranma then picked up her
tea, poured that over her head, and reverted to male form.
"Hot water reverses it, temporarily."

     "Holy fuck."  Thorson shook his head.  "That's un-fuck-
ing-believeable."

     "Do you doubt your own eyes?"  Ranma picked up the
other glass of water, and poured it over his head again.
"As you can see, it's a complete change."

     "And the Marines kept you in?"

     "Yep."  Ranma nodded.  "As long as I can still carry my
machine gun, they don't care."  She picked up her teapot
again, and cursed.  "Crud.  Out of hot water."

     Thorson grinned.  "That's all right, Sarge.  I don't
mind being seen in public with a hot young lady."

     Ranma scowled at him.  "Just don't try bein' stupid, or
you'll have to try eatin' those ribs with no teeth.  I ain't
into guys at all."

     "You mind if I leer a bit, Sarge?"  Thorson chuckled.
"I mean, there's really nothing wrong with the way you look,
at least."

     "I don't care if you leer."  Ranma leaned back and
laughed along with the Corporal.  "It'll only worsen the
frustration."

     "At least you seem to take it in stride.  Dunno if I
could do that."

     "I didn't always," said Ranma.  "When it first hap-
pened, I damn near killed my Pops.  It was him that knocked
me into the cursed spring."

     "Spring?"

     "Yeah, whatever drowns there causes the spring to
become cursed.  There's a hundred or more springs at the
valley where it happened.  Jushenkyou, it was called."
Ranma raised a hand to flag down a waitress.  "Anyone who
falls in the springs after that takes on the curse, and
turns into whatever drowned there.  In my case, it was
spring of drowned girl."

     "Damn."  Thorson shook his head.  "I suppose, if there
was a spring of drowned man, you could get uncursed?"

     "I could, and there was, but Jushenkyou is gone.  I
destroyed it, during a battle on a nearby mountain.  More
tea, please?"  This last was directed to the waitress.

     "You destroyed a whole valley?"  Thorson shook his
head.  "Why aren't you doing unarmed combat training?"

     "I won't teach the family Art."

     "Why not?"

     Ranma sighed.  "The training methods used on me were
dangerous, to a ludicrous degree.  I don't know any other
ways of training in the Art, and besides, I'm not licensed
to teach.  The only licensed Master of the art died two
years ago, with no heirs and no other licensed Masters.  So
the family Art is going to die out."

     "Can you teach on your own ticket?"

     "Not the family Art."  She shook her head.  "I'm devel-
oping my own style, but that puts me at an enormous disad-
vantage in the field of Martial Arts."


                         - - - - -


     Thorson had decided to head out to another part of
Pearl, and Ranma had decided to take a walk along the beach.
With any luck, he could find a quiet place to train.  Rain
during this time of year in Hawai'i was sudden and brief;
he'd found himself a she not thirty minutes after leaving
the restaurant.

     "Typical," she muttered.  "It always happens when
there's no hot water to be found."  She tried to wring the
water out of her shirt, then looked up at the sound of a
giggle.

     A young girl, thirteen or maybe fourteen, was grinning
at her.  She was skinny, a little over Ranma's height, and
had long brown hair gathered back in a ponytail.  Her
clothes were rather plain, but that seemed to suit her, and
she had a backpack hanging from one hand.  She reminded
Ranma of a young Kasumi, right down to the quiet giggle.

     "What's so funny?"

     "Sorry."  The girl shook her head, still grinning.
"It's just that silk, when wet, tends to stick to the skin,
so it's no wonder that you're frustrated."  Her voice had an
American accent, but her Japanese was flawless.

     "Yeah.  Somethin' like that."  Ranma pulled the silk
away from her breasts, scowling in disgust.

     "I can lend you a shirt, I've got a spare in my pack."

     "Ummm, please don't take offense at this, but I don't
think any of your shirts would fit me."

     "True."  The girl looked down at her own chest.  "I'm
kinda flat."

     "Trust me, it's better to be small," grumbled Ranma.
"These damn things cause me no end of problems.  Including
backaches."

     "If you wore a bra, you wouldn't have backaches."  The
girl ducked her head.  "Sorry, that's a bit forward of me."

     "No problem."  Ranma shrugged.  "And there's a good
reason why I can't wear a bra."

     "May I ask your name?"

     "Saotome Ranma."  She bowed to the taller girl.

     "Hayase Misa.  Pleased to meet you."  The girl returned
the bow.  "I was just on my way to the beach, actually.  If
you've got a swimsuit, you could switch to that, and hang up
the shirt to dry.  Then we could go swimming."

     Ranma opened his mouth to answer, then paused.  The
girl seemed very hungry for company...She closed her eyes,
to get a feel for her aura, and noted that despite the con-
fident face, the girl was lonely and depressed.  'Face like
Kasumi, soul like Ryouga...'  She opened her eyes again, and
said, "You know, that sounds like a great idea.  But my
swimsuit's on the other side of this island, and it's get-
tin' kinda old.  I should probably buy a new one.  Where can
I get a halfway decent suit in this part of town?"


                         - - - - -


     "I shoulda kept my mouth shut," grumbled Ranma.

     "Oh, come on!"  Misa giggled.  "You can't tell me
you're not having any fun."

     "Sure I can," said Ranma.  "Watch me:  I'm not having
any fun."

     "Just try one more."

     Ranma eyed the proferred spandex and lycra article, and
shuddered.  "No, thank you.  I'd feel like I was naked wear-
ing that."  She indicated Misa's swimsuit, thrown over the
taller girl's arm.  "Why can't I wear one like that?"

     "Because you're better built than me, and you should
flaunt it."


     "Better built?  I doubt that."  Ranma snorted.  "You're
tall an' willowy.  Just the sorta girl that guys are inter-
ested in."

     "With your hips and bust, they won't be looking at me."

     "Well, I don't want 'em lookin' at me."  Ranma grabbed
his first choice - a navy blue one-piece, very plain in cut.
It looked like a school's regulation bathing suit, though it
was not *quite* that unflattering.  "I'll just take this
one,  thank you very much."  She grimaced.  "The things I do
for you..."

     Misa giggled again.  "All right, all right.  You sound
like my boyfriend when you say that."

     "Boyfriend?  At your age?"  Ranma blinked.  "You're,
what, thirteen?  Fourteen?"

     "Fourteen."  Misa nodded.  "Riber and I dated for a few
months, but Daddy didn't approve of him."

     "Forced you to break up?"

     "No."  She looked down, and the depression came back
full-bore.  "He signed up with the UNEDF Navy, and Daddy
pulled some strings.  He's posted off the coast of Australia
right now."

     "Whoa, jet back.  That makes him at least eighteen."

     "Nineteen."

     "No wonder your father didn't approve."

     Misa looked up in shock.  "Why--"

     "Fathers only have one thing on their minds when it
comes to their daughters:  Protectin' them.  Trust me, I
know."

     "Your father was overprotective, too?"

     Ranma snorted.  "Not hardly.  But my...friend...her
father was quite tyrannical.  Especially towards me.  He
could do this scary demon face--quit laughin'!  Trust me, if
you ever saw it, ya wouldn't be laughin'!  If ever he
thought I was riskin' his daughter's safety, or her emo-
tions, he'd go all psycho."

     "But Riber was a perfect gentleman!"  Misa shook her
head.  "Daddy had no reason to protect me from him."

     "Gotta look at it from his point of view," said Ranma.
"He has to assume that every male out there is lookin' to
get into your pants.  Not because they are, but because if
he trusts the wrong person, even once--"

     "I *know* Daddy was just trying to protect me," broke
in Misa.  "But sending Riber to the ends of the Earth, just
to break us up...that was mean-spirited and low."

     "He mighta known somethin' about him that you don't."

     "Riber and I told each other *everything*."

     "He coulda been lyin'."  Ranma raised a hand to fore-
stall her next denial.  "Look, this is turnin' into another
Akane and Ryouga situation."

     "Who?"

     "Forget it.  Let's just drop the subject, go pay for
this thing--"  She lifted the bathing suit.  "--an' hit the
beach, all right?"


                         - - - - -


     Captain Hayase Takeshi, United Nations Earth Defense
Force Maritime Command, Commanding Officer of the UNS
*Shankland*, sat down before his desk with a sigh.  He
tapped the intercom button, and the familiar bosun's pipe,
electronically reproduced but still present, sounded.

     "Major Addams, please report to the Captain's quar-
ters."

     "Aye, Sir."

     "Major" Scott Addams was in fact a Marine Captain, head
of the *Shankland*'s four Platoons of Marines.  But by Mar-
itime tradition, dating back as far as written memory held,
there could only be one Captain on a ship, and so he
received an unofficial courtesy promotion to Major while on
the boat.  It took him five minutes to arrive, and when he
did so, he had his calabash pipe in hand, smoke still waft-
ing up from the bowl.

     "Dammit, Major, no smoking in my cabin!"  The Captain
scowled.  Major Addams shrugged, and capped the pipe with
his fingers, extinguishing it, and strolled into the cabin.

     "Reporting as ordered, Captain."

     "Been speaking with repple-depple?"

     "Yeah, they passed on a full Platoon, but they
requested that they remain as a unit.  I'm gonna have to
frig around with the TOE something fierce to straighten this
out."  Addams shrugged.  "Lieutenant Rico isn't gettin' any
less dead, and they didn't issue me a replacement, so I'm
gonna have to wear a second hat and lead Charlie Platoon
myself."

     "Can you take advantage of this SNAFU and shuffle Silva
over to Charlie?  Take Alpha yourself?"

     "I could, but if I leave him where he is, I can avoid a
great deal of disruption in the command structure."

     Hayase considered this, weighed adding his suggestions,
then said, "It's your side of the show.  Mine is getting you
there in the first place;  how you run your own shop is your
business."

     "Any particular reason you ask, Captain, or did you
just wanna catch up with the gossip?"

     "We've got sailing orders."  Hayase handed the simu-
lated Major a folder.  "Maps, satellite photos, recon data.
Looks like we've found a major operation, and the brass
wants us to come down on it like the hammer of Thor."

     "When?"

     "One week, we clear port."

     "Shit."  Addams stuck his pipe into his pocket, and
opened the folder.  "Aw, fuck.  They don't ask for much do
they?"

     "Is there a problem?"

     "Delta is on furlough.  I'll need a day or two to
recall them all, then we start trainin'.  And I got a real
problem with Delta.  Their Sergeant is...well, he's like
somethin' out of a bad anime."

     Hayase raised his eyebrows.


                         - - - - -


     "There a problem with makin' a firepit on the beach?"

     Misa giggled, and said, "If there was, there'd be an
uprising among the natives.  They think it's their divine
right to have a cookout."

     "Good."  Ranma started digging out a pit.  "See if you
can find some rocks."

     "Yes, Ma'am."

     "I'm not a Ma'am."  She bit her tongue, and added
quickly, "I'm a Sergeant.  I work for a livin'."

     Misa dropped the rock that she'd been holding.
"You're--"

     "Yep."  Ranma nodded.  "I'm not as young as I look."

     "What year were you born?"

     "Nineteen seventy-eight."  Ranma grinned.

     "Oh, my."  Misa sat down slowly.  "Oh, I feel stupid
now."

     "Don't."  Ranma shook her head.  "I've had a good time
today, more so than I expected, and I thank you for that.
So let's forget about my age."

     "Seventy-eight.  So you'd be twenty-two."

     "Twenty-one, actually, since I was born in March."
Ranma grabbed the rock that Misa had dropped.  "So I'm not
really that much older than you.  And you remind me of my
sister-in-law.  She always made me feel half my age.  So
shush, and get me more rocks, so I can get this barbecue
running."

     "Okay, Ranma-oneechan."  Misa giggled as Ranma tossed a
handful of sand at her.  "If you're only twenty-one, how are
you a Sergeant?"
     "Natural talent.  I got noticed, and promoted, quickly,
what with the crisis goin' on."  Ranma stood, and flexed her
muscles.  In the swimsuit, her muscle tone was particularly
noticeable.  "And it don't hurt that I'm strong enough to
carry a MINIMI with no problem."


                         - - - - -


     "Two *hundred* kilograms?"

     "And that's in his female form."  Addams shook his
head.  "In male form, it's more like *three* hundred."

     "Jesus Christ."

     "No shit."  Addams pulled the pipe back out of his
pocket.  "Plus, he's forgotten more martial arts than both
of us ever knew."

     "Well."  Takeshi leaned back in his chair and frowned.
"It seems that this fellow could be a problem for us."

     "According to his last CO, he wasn't really," said
Addams.  "A bit too gung-ho, but that's about it.  They
cleaned out a terrorist camp, and he kept his cool, didn't
open fire when it was obvious that the defenders just wanted
to surrender.  But according to this--"  Addams tapped the
file.  "There have been a few incidents when...less scrupu-
lous individuals took advantage of his curse to get a free
peep show, but he smacked them down pretty hard."

     "Think he'll be a discipline problem?"

     "I doubt it," said Addams.  "He's soldiered pretty
hard;  I doubt he'll want to throw that away."

     Hayase considered this, then nodded.  "All right.  Call
up the remainder of your men that are still on furlough, and
make ready for sailing."

     "Aye, Sir."

     Hayase stood.  "I'll be going ashore for a few hours."


                         - - - - -


     "Riber Frehlung."  Misa was sprawled back in the sand,
arms out and one leg drawn up.  "I've known him almost a
year.  He was posted to my father's command, and as a junior
officer, got invited to one of the Commodore's parties.
Ironically, my father decided that he'd make a good escort
for me."  She chuckled.  "So he squired me around the party,
got me drinks, and generally made me feel like a proper
young lady, instead of a typical Navy brat."

     Ranma was staring out at the sea;  she'd felt guilty
looking at her, even though she'd not had any untoward
thoughts - she was only fourteen, for chrissake, and think-
ing about *any* woman in that manner still brought fresh
stabs of pain.


     "You said he's in Australia right now?"

     "Yes.  He and I continued to see each other after the
party.  I always figured he was just being nice to the Cap-
tain's daughter, just humouring my crush."  She smiled.
"But we fell in love.  I admit, he's a cute boy, but..."
She sighed.  "Maybe I started just being attracted to his
appearance, but it got to be more than that."

     "Sounds better than my first meeting with--"  Ranma bit
down on her tongue.  "I mean--"

     "Oh, no."  Misa chuckled.  "I've been telling you all
about Riber.  So who do you have?  Boyfriend?  Husband,
even?"

     "I was engaged against my will."

     "Oh."  Misa sat up.  "I'm sorry.  If you don't want to
talk about it--"

     "No.  I've kept this bottled up for almost four years."
She looked down at her feet.  "Our families each represented
half of a school of martial arts.  They engaged us against
our will, but we eventually fell in love."  She snorted.
"It just took us most of a year to admit it.  We got mar-
ried, but a few weeks later...well, there was a terrorist
bombing."

     "Is that why you're in the service?"

     "Yeah."  She scowled.  "I couldn't save Akane, couldn't
stop the terrorists then, but I can sure as hell stop them
now.  No-one else will die if I can prevent it."

     "What was he like?"

     Ranma grinned;  she'd manage to spin this out right so
far.  "Strong, but impulsive.  Not very fast, or very dex-
trous, at least not compared to me.  Swam like a hammer, and
couldn't cook worth jack."

     "Oh."  Misa chuckled.  "Guess you made the perfect wife
for him, then."

     Ranma fell back into the sand, laughing.  Misa stared
at her, baffled.

     "What?"

     "Akane was really sensitive when it came to cooking.
It was a source of strife between us that I was the better
cook."  Ranma caught her breath and wiped her eyes.  "And
you're not the first person to say that about us."  She
glanced over at Misa.  "You're a lot luckier than me.  You
already know that you two are in love, and you know you'll
see him again.  What's half a planet, after all?"

     Misa looked down at her feet.  "I guess you're right.
But still..."  She shuffled her feet in the sand.  "Daddy
really didn't approve of him.  He told me to stop seeing
him, and it was the first time that Daddy and I have had a
real fight.  Mom died years ago, so long ago I can't even
remember what she looked like.  So I didn't really have any-
one to talk to about this."

     "What about other family members?  Or your friends?"

     Misa smiled sadly.  "With Daddy constantly on the move,
I've never been any place long enough to make any real
friends.  When you know you won't be at any one school for
more than a year, you learn not to make close friends.  It
just hurts when you have to leave them behind."

     "Yeah."  Ranma nodded.  "It was the same way with me.
Pops kept me on the move, never more than a few months any-
where, when we were on the training trip.  I never had any
friends, and all the social skills I have were beaten into
me by Akane."

     "Not literally, I hope."

     "Yes, literally."  Ranma rubbed her head in remembered
pain.  "I was just plain awful when we met.  I needed re-
education in the worst way.  And I'm tough;  I can take a
lot of pain.  Which was good, because pain was Akane's
favourite training tool."

     "That's awful!"  Misa leaped to her feet.  "How could
you let someone that strong, who supposedly loved you, treat
you like that?"

     "Remember, we were both martial artists, among the best
in our generation.  For that matter, I was probably *the*
best in my generation.  Pain is an educational tool for any
martial artist;  it was just that Akane used it to correct
my social...inadequacies."  She shrugged.  "Really, I did
need it.  An' it was effective."

     "Still..."  Misa shook her head in disbelief.  "If you
were better, why did you let it happen?"

     "Because I knew it was the right thing for me.  Because
I knew when I screwed up.  An' because I was so much better,
I didn't want to hurt Akane."

     "That's what they call enabling behaviour," stated
Misa.  "The abused--"

     "Whoa."  Ranma raised a hand.  "I wanna call this to a
halt, okay?  I didn't feel abused, and I don't now."

     "You're just blinded by survivor's guilt--"

     "No."  Ranma shook his head.  "Don't.  Stop right
there."

     Misa deflated, and sat back down.  "I'm sorry, Ranma.
I don't really have the right to judge you.  Or Akane."

     "You weren't there.  Trust me," said Ranma.  "The situ-
ation was not what you believe, okay?  Now can we drop this
subject, and get back to somethin' better?"

     "Okay."  Misa thought, and then asked, "So did you have
any real close friends?"

     "The closest I had was Ryouga."  Ranma snorted.  "Even
he wasn't really a friend.  He was a rival martial artist,
determined to beat me."


     "Was he any good?"

     "Oh, quite."  Ranma grinned.  "We spent a lot of time
whalin' the stuffin' out of each other.  Had a lot of good
times."

     "Your idea of a good time seems to differ from mine,"
observed Misa dryly.

     "Whenever we fought, we both improved," said Ranma.
"We were the only challenge that either of us had.  An' when
the chips were down, we fought alongside each other.  So we
were sorta friends."

     "I don't have any real friends, or even a real rival,"
said Misa.  "What few friends I had, Daddy tended to scare
off.  Not intentionally, mind you."

     "That so?"  Ranma dug into her pants pocket - it was
bunched up on one corner of the blanket, so the fishing
about took more time than she wanted.  "Here."

     Misa took the offered card.  "What--"

     "My eMail address."  Ranma grinned.  "Write to me,
okay?  'Cause I think we both could use a friend."

     "Even though I'm only fourteen--"

     "Crap."  Ranma waved a dismissive hand.  "We've already
settled that, ain't we?  Think of me as an older sister.  If
ever ya need to talk about somethin', don't hesitate to
write, okay?"

     "Ranma..."  Misa's eyes teared up.  "Thank you.  This
means more than you know."

     "I think I do know.  I've been just as lonely as you."
Ranma grinned.  "And next time we're in the same port, we
can hang out again."

     "I'd like that."  Misa grinned in return.  "Thank you."

     "Do ya know where you're goin' next?"

     "Nowhere, for a while.  Daddy's ship is taking on sup-
plies right now.  So I'll be staying here in Hawai'i with my
governess for a while."

     "What ship does he have?"

     "The *Shankland*."

     "No way."  Ranma sat bolt upright.  "No freakin' way!"

     "What?"

     "Just before I headed out today--"  Ranma dug back into
the pants.  "I got new orders.  To report aboard the *Shank-
land* before midnight."

     "Oh!"

     "Misa."


     Both turned at the new voice.  It was a tall man,
dressed in the duty uniform of the UNEDF Maritime Command,
"Daddy!"  Misa jumped to her feet.  "Oh, I was worried that
I wouldn't get to see you before you sailed!"

     "I had to come ashore to file some paperwork, so I fig-
ured I'd find you, and see if we could have a bit of dinner
together before we sail."  The Captain glanced down at the
firepit.  "But I see that you and your new friend have
already eaten."

     Ranma was scrabbling back into her clothing as fast as
she could.  There could be worse ways to meet your new CO,
but she couldn't think of one just now.

     "Yes, Daddy.  Sorry, I didn't know you were coming,
or--"

     "That's all right.  We can just visit.  Care to intro-
duce me to your friend?"

     *Oh, please say no...*

     "Daddy, this is Sergeant Saotome Ranma."

     *Crap.*

     "Saotome...Ranma?"  Captain Hayase's eyes narrowed.

     "Yes, she's been assigned to your ship, and we've had a
good time today--Daddy?  What's wrong?"

     Hayase shook his head, as though to clear it.  "Noth-
ing, honey.  Listen, can I talk to the Sergeant for just a
moment?"

     "Business talk?"  Misa giggled.  "Sure.  I'll go wait
in the car."  She grabbed her stuff and ran up the beach.

     "Sergeant."

     Ranma came to attention.  "Sir."

     "Off the record and forgetting rank, what the *fuck* do
you think you're doing?"

     "Makin' friends, Sir."  Ranma scowled.  "Misa says she
don't have many, and I can *feel* the depression comin' offa
her."

     "You are a male sergeant, twenty-one years old;  you
ought to know better than to be spending time with a four-
teen-year-old female civilian.  Especially my daughter!"

     "Since we're forgettin' rank, *Sir*, I suggest you hear
the facts before you go slingin' accusations," snapped
Ranma.  "I've been in my female form all day, ain't never
touched her - I mean literally, not even when we were
horsin' around in the water.  I've been playin' the big sis-
ter bit.  And don't forget, *Sir*, that my wife hasn't been
dead four years yet.  It's far too early for me to be
thinkin' of anythin' like that.  *Especially* when it's a
fourteen-year-old civilian.  And I didn't know she was your
daughter."


     "The propriety of the situation is--"

     "Don't matter to me, Sir.  I met someone who was very
lonely, and wanted a friend.  I decided I could be that
friend."

     Captain Hayase scowled, then stepped back.  "Report
aboard *Shankland* as soon as you are able, Sergeant, and
report to Major Addams.  I shall ignore this...indiscre-
tion...provided it does not happen again."  He paused.
"You're hair's getting too long, too.  Report to the ship's
barber once you're on board."

     Ranma sighed.  "Yes, Sir."


                         - - - - -


     Whatever the discussion was that Ranma and her father
were having, thought Lisa, it wasn't friendly.  Most likely,
it concerned her.  She looked down at the card in her hand,
then carefully tucked it down the front of her swimsuit.

     *What Daddy doesn't know, he can't forbid.*


                         - - - - -


     "You rang, Sir?"

     "Major."  Captain Hayase nodded.  "Have you prepared
your deployment pattern yet?"

     "Not yet."  Addams shook his head.  "We've plotted out
the most likely ingress route, but you can bet the terror-
ists will be reading the same maps, and will have it heavily
defended."

     "I want Delta Platoon to take spearhead," said Hayase.
"Send them right up that route."

     Addams paused.  "Sir, that route is gonna be a meat-
grinder.  I mean, it's the best way in, but there's dozens
of places to put machine gun nests."

     "You've told me that Delta is a veteran unit, and their
Sergeant is as tough as they come," said Hayase.  "If we can
knock out their command post and defenses quickly, it will
mean the least overall casualties for the rest of our
Marines."

     "Sir...you've always left the ground side of the opera-
tion to me," said Addams slowly.  "So if you have a good
reason for making changes to my plan--"

     "I want to see how tough this Platoon really is," said
Hayase.  "And I want this base taken down post haste.  I
want the forces there in custody, within six hours of us
hitting the beach."

     "That's impossible."

     "This Sergeant Saotome does six impossible things
before breakfast on a daily basis."  Hayase smirked.  "This
time...he'll have until lunch."