[FFML] Quantum Destinies 28

[Jurai Knight]

*** Earth 0.000, 0.000



Ranma-chan unlocked the door to the apartment over the Yu-chan and stepped
inside, her hand reaching over to flip on the light. She felt good, pumped
up from the fight with the Kasugano girl and her victory. Mastering the
Amaguriken made the day even better.



She went into the kitchen and pulled out a cold can of juice from the
refrigerator, taking it back with her as she walked over to sit down on
Yumi’s Western-style bed and relax. After popping the can open, she tipped
it back against her lips, feeling the cold liquid run down her dry throat
as she drank down half of it quickly. She gave out a sigh and set the can
down on the nightstand. A small belch escaped her lips, and she grinned a
bit ruefully.



Undoing her pigtail, she fluffed her hair out, running her fingers through
the strands. She then rolled her head from one shoulder to the other,
hearing a few faint popping sounds come from her neck and then she
stretched, kicking out her arms and legs, feeling tight muscles loosening.
After sitting up, she slipped her top off, tossing it with an overhand
throw to land on the small pile of dirty clothes already in the hamper
basket.



Her fingers were deft as they undid the clasp on the back of the sports
bra, a skill that would have at one time baffled her male aspect and then
it too joined the top in the hamper, leaving her dressed in only leggings.
The open closet door showed two more such outfits now, bought with a
portion of the allowance money given by Nodoka to her son.



Ranma-chan took several moments examining her body for bruises or other
injuries after taking off her leggings, leaving herself dressed only in
light blue panties, unsure if she had taken any damage in the fight that
had gone unnoticed due to adrenaline. Many of Sakura’s blows had come very
close to hitting, and it was possible one or two might have connected in a
glancing way. As she studied herself, she ran a feather light touch over
her exposed skin, and she was still amazed at how sensitive certain areas
of her anatomy were and wondered idly if all girls were this way.



A brief fantasy about touching Kodachi like this crossed her mind. Then her
imaginings drifted to what it might be like to be with other girls, like
Nabiki or Ukyo. While the fundamental core of her identity still saw
herself as Ranma and male, Ranko’s memories were also undeniably present,
greatly easing the experience of being in cursed form. Both shapes felt
natural to her, now that the initial shock of being cursed was over, and
Ranma-chan had started noticing a shift in perceptions occurring when she
changed, even viewing herself more and more often as female when in cursed
form.



Once past its initial horror at what happened, that male identity had
started feeling strong temptations to touch and explore her new shape, but
the vivid memories gained from her other Jusenkyo-cursed selves, who feared
and hated their female forms, held her back. Even now, with Ranko’s
memories smoothing the experience of being female, guilt and shame lurked
in the back of her mind at doing such things. She sighed, getting up and
going into the bathroom.



A little while later, after a long, hot shower, Ranma emerged, drying
himself with a towel. He felt good, which surprised him a bit. His training
with Master Lee was going well, and so were his preparations for the rescue
of his father. He was even growing more comfortable with his girl form, a
process likely facilitated by Ranko’s memories, now no longer being
suppressed in his subconscious.



Yumi had been right. Being honest with himself for a moment, he was curious
to see what it would be like to explore being female, to see all that his
cursed form had to offer. While he had originally intended it as a way to
get to know the girls in his life without any of the engagements looming
overhead, he was surprised to discover how enjoyable it was to spend time
with them as a girl and to make friends with them, like it had been with
Ukyo. He was looking forward to having them as his friends, and someday he
hoped to eventually tell them the truth.



Even Akane seemed like she might make a good friend, which was somewhat
shocking to him, and that Sakura girl seemed interesting as well. He rubbed
a towel through his hair and then tied it back into its usual pigtail. Life
was looking pretty fascinating to him, the scientist in him intrigued at a
previously unimagined new realm to explore. Even so, he knew there were
adjustments he was going to have to deal with.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Quantum Destinies

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic

By S. Thesken aka Jurai Knight (qd_author at hotmail.com)



Ranma 1/2 and its characters are owned by Rumiko Takahashi. This story is
inspired by her works and the stories from some of my fellow fanfic
authors. Among these are D.B. Sommer’s “Shampoo 1/2”, Jim Bader’s “A Very
Scary Thought -aka- Nabiki 1/2”, and John Biles’ Elseworlds series. All C&C
is welcome.





Before reading this chapter, please check out DB Sommer’s two works, both
set in the QD universe and detailing Shampoo’s life in the Arena: “Path of
the Warrior” and “Life on the Inside”





Other chapters of this story may be found at this website, or you can email
the author for them:



http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3764932/





The list of worlds reoccurring in this chapter:

Earth 0.000, 0.000 - The world of Scholar Ranma (Baseline cluster)

Earth +4.612, +4.509 - The world of Shampoo 1/2 (Shampoo 1/2 cluster)





What has gone before in this story (or at least what will help you
understand what is going on):



On a parallel Earth that diverged from the standard Ranma timeline over
five hundred years ago, the Empire of Japan rules almost half the world and
has done so for almost a century. Theorizing that one could travel to
alternate timelines by possessing counterparts in them, a young scientist
named Ranma Saotome, through use of a device of his own invention,
accidentally obtained the skills and memories of a martial artist version
of himself. Perfume and Mousse reached Roanapur, eager to find passage to
Japan. Frost the Chinese sorceress and Ghost Sweeper Minami became
Gosunkugi’s fiancées. Hinako seduced Tofu, a betrayal witnessed by Kasumi.
Sakura Sakuranbo joins the staff of the Imperial Academy and had a run-in
with Ayaka. Fuyutsuki invited Ranko to take the Academy’s entrance exam.
Ranma mastered the Amaguriken and made some new friends. Shampoo was
informed that Ranma would be her next opponent and looked forward to
meeting him.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Chapter 28 – The Chinese Amazon Connection, Part II



     No man may have me, unless he’s beaten me in a fair fight.



                                   - Red Sonja



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx





Herb eyed her opponent wrathfully in the darkened chamber, flames
occasionally belching up from gas leaks in the floor. Sweat and blood
dripped down her body from the heat and her injuries, and she could smell
acrid smoke. Explosions lit the night sky outside as Musk and Matriarchy
warships battled, and screams of rage could be heard as infantry fought and
died in the streets outside. None of that mattered. Her only focus was on
the enemy in front of her, wearing the face of Prince Herb.



He sprang at her, intent on killing her, chi energy lancing from his hands
leading his physical assault. She evaded both, and they engaged each other
in a furious melee exchange. He wanted to destroy her, and she refused to
die this day. She dropped split-legged to the floor and her fist drove
upwards into his groin with all her might. As he gasped and started to
clutch himself reflexively, she sprang up and then brought her elbow down
hard on his back. She felt several of his ribs crack.



However, he was not finished yet and struggled to recover. His left palm
slammed hard into her gut, followed up with his right palm striking upwards
under her jaw as she sagged forward, snapping her head back. More blood
spattered on the floor from their savage battle as the screams of the dying
outside continued on like the wails of the damned.



She recovered quickly and slipped past his guard, grabbing his head with
both hands and driving her knee into the cartilage of his nose. She felt it
snap from the strength of her blow, a cry of pain forcibly expelled from
him. His guard finally collapsing, she began driving powerful blows into
his body and face. He had underestimated her will to survive, looked down
on her as weak, as prey for him to consume, and now he was going to pay the
ultimate price. She would see to that.



The struggle reached its finale, each of them relentlessly driven to this
point by an undeniable urge to overcome the other. But, in the end, there
could be only one victor. He finally collapsed to the ground underneath
her, and her hands went around his throat. Her grip began to inexorably
tighten, and she felt his trachea buckling as she increased pressure on it.
She was finally going to be rid of him, and her lips parted in a snarl of
fury as his eyes began rolling back in his head, his face purpling.



His image began to fade beneath her as she absorbed his essence into
herself.



It was finally over-



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



-and Herb snapped awake with a gasp, feeling her own hands squeezing her
throat. She released her grip on herself, staring up at the ceiling as she
caught her breath. Confusion roiled within her as she struggled to remember
where she was and what had happened to her.



She was alone now. Her two companions were absent, separated from her
during their flight from prison. Two relentless women had pursued them,
heavily armed and highly skilled, catching up with the trio after only a
few days. Being Musk, they had chosen to fight, since their foes were
women. But she had been struck by a bullet creasing across her skull within
the first minute of combat, and the impact had knocked her off a cliff and
into unconsciousness.



When she finally came to hours later, she was on the shore of a river,
covered in muck and slime, and Lime and Mint were both gone. Believing they
had led the pair away from her, she had backtracked up the river a few
miles and searched, but she had been unable to find them or their pursuers.
She wasn’t even sure how far she had drifted from their last position while
unconscious. Nothing looked familiar.



Herb sat up on the bed, dressed in a T-shirt and short pants, hearing the
faint rattling from the window as the air conditioner struggled to keep the
room cool against the heat and humidity outside. The heavy curtains were
drawn, blocking the lights and sounds coming from the street. She set her
feet on the ground and stood up.



Padding to the window, she opened the curtain slightly and looked down on
the neon-lit street below her shabby hotel room. There had been no sign of
her companions or the two women since that day, but she refused to believe
Lime and Mint were dead. Her time spent adrift in the river had driven her
path far to the south, so she had continued to head that way, seeking a
city. Fortunately, her wounds had healed after only two days, not even
leaving behind any scars. Then, a week ago, she had found her way here, to
the city of Roanapur. It was an easy task for her to lose herself amidst
the transient population here.



Her confusion easing as she watched the activity outside on the street, she
pondered her latest dream, and what it meant for her. The dreams had
started up the day after she made her escape with her companions, dreams of
that other life lived as a prince of the Musk Dynasty and being a scion of
the House of the Dragon. That other self had utterly loathed being female
and looked forward to someday unlocking this form and then removing the
curse placed upon it, going back to being male. Those dreams had been ones
of savage battle between her male and female identities, each brutal,
bloody and without quarter.



At first, he had been the victor, but for some reason he was never able to
completely dominate and destroy the self that was native to this body. He
had initially viewed her as weak, a sheep to be devoured after he was done
toying with her. But, after she had been struck in the head by that bullet,
the dreams began shifting, that female self gaining in strength and
fighting back more strongly each night. That invading personality had
slowly faded in importance as her identity gradually reformed into a new
matrix, as their two lives slowly merged and became one. Those memories
from him were still present, but she had been the one to take him into
herself when she finally killed him in the dream and consumed him like prey.



In the end, there could be only one, and now that end was here. Her
identity was clear and sure to her, for the first time in her life.



The person once known as Herb was dead and had been replaced by another, a
woman named Ginseng. The name was oddly appropriate for her situation. She
carried the blood of dragons within her, a warrior on a sacred quest to
find Sage. She no longer wished to return to the Musk; that goal was dead
to her. But she was still driven to find him. He was her only family on
this world, though Sage had been adopted and was not actually blood-related
to her. She was not sure how much he might even remember of being one of
the Musk, or if he remembered having a brother named Herb, but it did not
matter. Sage’s face was in her thoughts and haunted her dreams. She had to
find him and make sure he was well and then she would hopefully find a
place for herself in his life.



Ginseng went into the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face and
then gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was growing out
already, so she would have to touch up the roots, having dyed it dark brown
to better blend into the local population. She was still startled at times
to see her face, noting her ears appearing more human and less pointed now,
her eyes more human as well, still jade green in color but lacking the
slits for pupils she had once had as ‘Prince Herb’ in that other life.
While the files she had read in that facility told how she and her
companions had been created from genetic materials harvested from Musk
Dynasty captives, an effort had apparently been made to render them more
human in appearance. Even so, she did have an exotic beauty to her face, a
draconic sharpness to her features, she noted.



Leaving the room, she went up to the roof area, the June night air sticky
with humidity and heat even though hours still remained until dawn. She
began moving through a kata, seeking to arouse the blood of dragons within
her. Chi energy began flowing along her body in a bluish nimbus like St.
Elmo’s fire, dim and weak compared to what she had once been capable of in
her life as Prince Herb, but growing ever stronger each day. Although her
physique possessed the potential to generate and release tremendous power,
just having the knowledge and memories was not enough. Training her body
was still required, and she had done so rigorously every night almost since
the escape from the place of her imprisonment.



Improving herself was necessary for another reason, as the remaining funds
she had obtained from her former jailers were insufficient to gain her
passage to Japan right away. Most of it had been spent on documents and
bribes to change official records for her new identity as a Chinese woman
named Jin Tseng, although she was sure she would get used to hearing it
pronounced Ginseng by the Japanese. That unfortunate person had lost her
life in the underbelly of this city and was her twin in appearance except
for hair color, and that had been easily fixed with dye.



The rest of her funds had gone for food, some clothing and the rent on her
room. As she lacked any sort of desire to work at a menial job or
prostitute herself, she had been earning money the only way left open to
her, fighting in the dog pits of Roanapur. She had gotten the idea from
reading through Ginseng’s personal effects. The woman had been an
undefeated contender in the dog pits and was about to make the jump to the
next rung up as an Arena fighter, heading to Hong Kong.



Stepping into that identity had been easy for her, and she had been doing
quite well for herself after acquiring it, since an attractive young woman
battling men was always more pleasing to the rabble here than watching men
beating each other up and thus earned her more than enough money to sustain
herself. Although she didn’t know it, all those who knew the truth about
the switch had died shortly afterwards in underworld shootouts or various
horrific accidents, further securing her identity from ever being breached.
The stories of a woman in a blue kimono vanishing from the scenes of each
death were chalked up to being an urban legend.



Because it added to her mystique in matches, she decided to continue using
the costume design that the original Ginseng had used in her matches up
until this point, buying new items to replace the worn ones. The outfit was
pleasingly risqué to her, and her matches so far using it had shown it was
distracting to her opponents as well as giving her plenty of freedom of
movement. Thigh-high, low-heeled satin boots in black with green metallic
knee-guards and gold trimming drew attention to her shapely legs, and the
matching forearm guards and bands on her biceps helped show off the sleek
musculature of her arms, her hands sheathed in fingerless gloves. A bustier
with gold trimming and black laces across the front brought male attention
to her breasts, and the rest of her athletic figure was displayed by the
bikini briefs she wore with a knee-length, flowing sarong at the front, the
entire outfit in green. A cloth mask tightly covered her lower face up to
her nose, concealing her identity and even further increasing her mystique.
She wanted to wear her hair like the original Ginseng had, in a long
ponytail, but it was still too short for the time being.



While her current selections for opponents were all far beneath her
abilities, nothing but dog meat (to use the parlance of her current peers)
for her to sharpen her techniques on and learn how to play to the crowd,
she looked forward to fighting much better opponents. In her acquired
effects was a letter informing her that a talent scout would be arriving in
Roanapur any day now to evaluate her potential for Hong Kong and sign her
to a contract. If she did well there over the next few months, she could
advance to the Arena in Tokyo that she had heard other fighters talk about,
to face off against the best martial artists in the Empire. She had been
told that there was even a Joketsuzoku there, and she was sure that one
would make for an excellent challenge for her. Her warrior soul burned at
the thought of facing stronger foes, challenging them and overcoming them.



Her new career would also cover her entry into Japan quite nicely where she
could better search for Sage.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ryoko drummed her fingers on her desk, irritated by how the week had gone
for her. Her challenge letter to the Tendo girl had not received a
response, and it irked her. Did Nabiki view her as beneath notice? Was she
being taunted?



She looked around the classroom, unchanged from her last time here before
she went off on her training trip. Their class was exclusively female, as
there were not any second-year students at St. Hebereke who were male. A
few of the girls made eye contact with her in a respectful way when her
gaze fell upon them and then went back to whatever they were doing before
she looked at them.



The teacher came in to take attendance, a grizzled older woman dressed in a
nun’s habit with a sour-looking face. Ryoko tuned her out almost
immediately, responding briefly when she heard her name called. She was the
only one in the class who could get away with that. Most of the teachers
feared her too much to comment on any displays of disrespect.



Sofiya Pavlovena, although she preferred using her old Arena identity of
Balalaika, was a Russian woman who administered discipline on campus and
was the homeroom teacher for the first-year class holding the two
Tetragrammaton Nun trainees: Rebecca and Roberta. The Russian left Ryoko
alone as long as she didn’t step too far out of line. She and the Masaki
girl had an understanding of mutual respect with each other, and Ryoko
actually did respect Balalaika. Earning her citizenship in the Arena was an
impressive feat, especially fighting on to victory after getting her face
half-burned in her final match, scars the woman still had to this day.



Ryoko would give the Tendo girl until the end of the week to respond, she
decided. If Nabiki didn’t appear at the shrine by then to face her, she
would just go to the girl’s house. She looked forward to battling her
rival, although she was hoping the other girl put up a halfway decent fight.



She hoped she didn’t get splashed with cold water again, as turning into a
cat was proving to be most annoying. How could she strike fear into the
Tendo girl as a housecat? She had been very wary of water since getting
cursed. Most people could go all day without getting splashed with water,
but not her. It was like it lurked and waited to pounce upon her.



Her thoughts then drifted to musings about Ranma, how skillful he was in
their sparring match to be able to defeat her. She also thought about
Ryoga, remembering with enjoyment how strong he was in bouts against her.
She had never imagined there existed any boy able to match her in sheer
physical power like he could, wondering where the Hibiki boy had vanished
off to.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The next morning, after homeroom was over and a quick, cold shower in the
still unoccupied dormitory building, Ranma-chan waited in front of
Fuyutsuki’s office, dressed in a simple skirt and blouse. She sat down and
crossed her legs in a very ladylike manner. After a brief time, she
realized what she was doing. There was a pause.



She purposely uncrossed her legs and sat with them slightly apart, like a
man would, and leaned forward to think. Her breasts pressed against her
arms, and she quickly leaned back, surprised once again at the distracting
sensations aroused by touching them and how sensitive they were. She then
re-crossed her legs because they felt wrong spread apart like that. There
was another brief pause and then she shook her head and grinned ruefully.



At that point, Yumi arrived, dressed in her usual garb. “You look very
nice,” she said approvingly. “You have a good eye for color. It makes you
look very feminine.”



Ranma-chan grumbled. Despite her growing comfort with her female form, it
was still troubling to hear that she looked feminine. Sensing that, Yumi
plopped down next to her and sat like a man, without any sign of discomfort
and then put her arm around the girl.



“This is all going to be just fine,” the older woman said with a grin.
“Look, you just take the entrance exam while I talk with Jun-kun, and don’t
worry about anything else. If you do well, Ranko-chan, maybe I’ll give you
some more money for pretty clothes. How does that sound?”



Ranma-chan debated matricide, despite the fact that shopping did have a
secret appeal to her. She was saved from further thought on the matter by
the appearance of Jun Fan Lee. He looked at her and then his gaze shifted
to Yumi.



“Hello, Kuonji-san,” the man said with a bow. “It’s nice seeing you again
so soon.”



Yumi nodded and then bapped the girl on the back of her head while
grinning. “Stand up and be polite to your elders.”



Matricide was briefly considered again as Ranma-chan stood. “Hello,
Lee-sensei.” She bowed.



“She does take after her mother,” he teased mildly, while Ranma-chan
stifled a snicker and Yumi frowned. “You were never well-mannered at all,
as I seem to recall from when you were my student.”



Yumi looked irritated. “You know, you’re not too famous that I won’t take
your butt outside right now and kick it around the block for a while,
Jun-kun.”



“You are welcome to test your skills against mine any time, Yumi-chan,” he
said with a sudden smile. “Sparring with you the other day was the most fun
I’ve had in a while. The years have been very kind to you, and I’m pleased
that you’ve grown even more capable as a fighter.”



Yumi smiled and stood up, gesturing to one side for them to go. “I do my
best to keep in shape. Let’s go grab some tea and talk while Ranko takes
her test. It will give me an opportunity to discuss my proposal with you.”



“Very well.”



The two walked off, leaving the pigtailed girl sitting alone again. She had
a brief debate with herself about asserting her masculinity again but
decided against it. She sighed again, sitting with legs crossed, her chin
resting on her fist while her elbow rested on her knee. One foot bounced
from her restlessness.



“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said Dean Fuyutsuki as he opened the door. He
looked and saw only Ranma-chan seated there. “Odd. I thought I heard your
mother and Lee-san.”



Ranma-chan stood and reflexively smoothed her skirt. “They went to have tea
together and talk. I’m ready to take the exam, Fuyutsuki-sensei.”



“Come right this way then, Kuonji-san. I have a room prepared for you to
take it in.” He gestured to one side.



“Here we go,” she muttered as she headed off with him walking at her side.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth +4.612, +4.509



Professor Saotome adjusted the last of the connections on the device he had
been working on, roughly the size of a car battery due to the tech level
being lower here than what was available in the Empire, checking each one
carefully. He applied a small daub of solder to one loose wire and then
nodded, satisfied it wasn’t going to blow up or something when he fed it
power. He reached up and adjusted his glasses and grinned at the other man
with him.



“It’s ready for activation, Tendo-kun,” he said.



Soun nodded, eager to get on with it. They had been working together on the
device for many days now, although that mainly involved him handing the
other man tools and generally playing fetch and carry. He was used to being
the one in charge, but this was an area where his companion had far more
knowledge than he did. When it came to electronics, his expertise was more
focused on wiring demolition charges and bugging techniques.



“Do you want to do the honors?” Genma asked.



“If you insist,” Soun replied with a nod and a smile. He reached out and
flipped the switch on. The device began to hum slightly and draw power from
the cord plugged into the wall. Genma eyed it. Everything seemed to be
working correctly.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth 0.000, 0.000



In the drawer where it rested, Ranma’s device suddenly lit up, its circuits
detecting a signal. The digital readout on its face blinked several times
and then blanked suddenly for a few moments. The number that came up next
was for two days, six hours and a small handful of minutes and seconds.



It began counting down.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth +4.888, +4.611



A monitor light began blinking on a console of the Kara, the last vessel
still remaining in service from the old Valkyrie Class of the Solnoid
Matriarchy’s destroyers. Eyeing it was Ensign Shinobu Miyake, on duty at
the communications station, surprised for a moment before her training took
over. She hastened to acquire more readings, sweeping the trailing ends of
the yellow sash denoting her rank behind her.



Noting the sudden commotion while signing some paperwork for the fresh
supplies they had just loaded into cargo, the commander of the vessel
swiveled her chair around, an attractive Japanese woman just turned thirty.
The sash worn as a belt for her uniform was black, signifying her rank.
Captain Saeko Nogami eyed the ensign, a recent addition to her crew, fresh
out of the academy on her first assignment. The crew was scheduled for some
shore leave now that supplies were done loading. The Kara would be making
its final voyage before being decommissioned in a few months.



“<What’s the matter, ensign?>“ she asked calmly in Solnoid.



The girl finished analyzing her readings and stared. “<I’m reading a signal
from an uncoded paratransponder beacon in a nearby tangent, Captain,>“ the
ensign reported crisply. “<I’ve checked the charts, and it does not
correspond to anything in our database.>“



Captain Nogami swiveled her chair around to face another woman on the
bridge. “<Commander Nattori, can you confirm?>“



Kazue Nattori, the woman seated at the science station studied her screens
and crunched once on a strawberry-flavored pocky stick in her mouth before
answering, a habit that the captain always found a bit endearing.
“<Confirmed, Captain. I have triangulated with navigation buoys in the
local grid and checked our charts. This signal is not originating from any
Matriarchy-controlled worlds, but from somewhere in the frontier zone.
Shall I alert the crew to prepare for phase translation to investigate
this?>“



“<Make it so, Commander.>“



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth +4.612, +4.509



The Kara phased into existence in orbit over the Earth below, and the young
woman at the helm, Lieutenant Kozue Nanao, powered down the main drive to
standby mode. The crew waited at their duty stations, and the captain was
pleased at their performance, taking less than two hours from receiving the
initial contact to completion of the many phase translations necessary to
reach here.



They were now past the outermost fringes of explored paraverses, at the
limits of the network of navigation beacons that allowed Matriarchy vessels
to find their way back to the central worlds. To go any deeper into that
wilderness would be to risk losing that lifeline and never being able to
return home again. It was the frontier, unexplored and unknown, and the
thought of being here, to go where no other woman of the Matriarchy had
gone before, was an exciting one to the crew.



“<My compliments on the smooth transitions, Lt. Nanao,>“ Captain Nogami
stated crisply. “<Begin standard scans and stay alert for Musk activity in
the area. And activate the cloak. This could be a trap.>“ She forced the
tension down that she was now feeling and strived to appear more relaxed as
her bridge crew began their activities. It didn’t take long for a report
back.



“<I have readings of a fairly sizable debris field in the Lagrange point
just past the moon, Captain,>“ reported Commander Nattori. There was a
pause and then her face went a bit pale as she picked up a faint signal.
“<It’s one of ours, the Huntress. I’m reading the automated distress signal
from their black box. I’m also picking up a hull alloy signature among the
debris that matches with Musk Dynasty ship construction.>“



There was a coughing sort of sound from Ensign Miyake, a stifled sob. The
girl hastily busied herself with her console, holding back tears. She had
been friends with one of the crew of the Huntress: Ensign Shan Pu. She
mourned at the loss of her in battle.



The signal information she was monitoring began narrowing down in scale as
she watched, first at a planet-wide scale, then down to Japan, then down to
the eastern side of the main island and finally down to Tokyo.
Unfortunately, she could not localize it any more precisely than that.



“<Captain!>“ squeaked the young ensign suddenly. “<I have located the
signal source on the planet. It’s in Japan. Specifically, Tokyo.>“



The captain was contemplating that revelation when Commander Nattori
suddenly looked up from her station.



“<Captain, scans have detected the presence of Jusendo energies in China.
Your orders?>“



“<Weapons Officer, charge up the spinal mount and ready a kinetic kill
torpedo for immediate launch. Five megaton yield should be more than
sufficient.>“ Such a bother, the captain mused. This tangent was proving
annoying. First there was the sad discovery of the remains of the Huntress
and now this. Still, it could not be helped. Standard orders given to all
Matriarchy warships required the elimination of Mount Jusendo and the
nearby ‘Holy Waters’ of Jusenkyo that were held so dear by the perverted,
vicious Musk whenever they were found.



Commander Nattori nibbled on a fresh pocky stick as she continued her
readings. She was detecting something strange about this tangent’s version
of Jusenkyo. She enhanced the resolution of her scans and called up the
ship’s database to run a cross-comparison on what she saw, checking for any
prior instances on other tangents that fit what she was seeing. When it
came up with a match, she studied the results and suddenly chomped down on
her pocky stick in shock, half of it falling to the deck at her feet.



“<Captain!>“ she shouted. “<I have a confirmed reading of something
underneath Jusenkyo! Something huge! It was heavily masked, but I’ve
managed to get a clear enough reading to make an exact match with the
database!>“



“<Explain.>“ Captain Nogami turned to face the girl, and she briefly held
up one hand to the weapons officer. “<Hold on torpedo launch for a moment.>“



The commander said only a single word. “<Maelstrom.>“



That one word chilled everyone on the bridge. The entity that called itself
by that name had manifested on two previous occasions in other paraverses.
The first time it appeared, it had only been defeated by a combined effort
by Matriarchy and Musk forces that had been forced into temporary alliance
against the beast. Thousands of lives had been lost.



It was encountered a second time when a Matriarchy vessel attempted to
destroy it while it was still sleeping underneath that paraverse’s version
of Jusenkyo. It failed, a failure later analyzed as being due to too weak
of an attack, which had only awakened the beast. It had taken an entire
battalion of vessels pulled from other regions to deal with that mistake.



Later analysis work theorized that weapon damage somewhere over thirty
megatons being delivered into the beast would be assured of destroying it.
High Command had then issued a new General Order to all vessels that
encountered Maelstrom to destroy the creature. It was a clear and present
danger to sentients on all tangents and was to be terminated with extreme
prejudice whenever the creature was found. Non-nuclear damage was
recommended to avoid long-term contamination, but even nuclear weaponry was
authorized to be used if non-nuclear options were not available.



The captain came over immediately and looked at the commander’s scans, a
multiphasic deep resonance scan of Jusenkyo Valley and its environs.

Knowing where they were scanning brought back memories to her, of the
pilgrimage she had made as a young girl to the Matriarchy’s original
timeline, visiting that quiet region of China, the ancient birthplace of
the Solnoid Matriarchy in the Bayankala mountain range. To see what she was
seeing now pained her greatly. She was doubly pained by what she was now
under orders to do, obeying one of the High Command’s General Orders for
all captains, to attack Maelstrom without delay.



“<Weapons Officer, reset the spinal mount to its maximum yield of eighty
megatons.>“ It was extreme overkill, but she was taking no chances in
carrying out her orders and risking the lives of her entire crew by making
too timid of a response. She would only get one shot at this.



“<Aye aye, Captain,>“ replied Lt. Rally Vincent, quickly completing the
change. “<K-Torpedo ready at eighty megatons estimated yield.>“ She was
then quite startled when the captain suddenly came over to her station and
gestured for her to move aside.



Captain Nogami paused as she realized what she was about to do. No one else
should have to shoulder this burden but her. When she fired the torpedo,
the Kara’s spinal mount cannon, a surface bombardment weapon for use
against Musk worlds, would accelerate the thousand-kilogram ceramic-coated
mass to a small fraction of light speed before it began the long trajectory
to the surface below. That mass, heat shielded and streamlined by its
ceramic coating to prevent it from burning up in the atmosphere, would gain
even more kinetic energy from the descent before finally ending its
existence far below and releasing its entire payload of accumulated kinetic
energy in a blast that would utterly obliterate Jusenkyo, Jusendo
Mountain...



...and this tangent’s version of the village of Joketsuzoku, if it even
existed.



May our ancestors forgive me, she mused sadly, regretting the sometimes
brutal necessities she was so often called upon to perform at times like
this, a level of ruthlessness required against an unrelentingly savage foe
like the Musk Dynasty.



Her finger pressed the firing button.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Cologne was leading Akane and Ryoga to the Saotome household as she passed
by a store selling televisions, and what she heard caused her to pause.



“...and the devastation seen in this region of the Bayankala mountain range
has been truly staggering. The Chinese government has so far been
attempting to deal with the aftermath on its own, but with very little
success so far. Aid from the United States and the surrounding nations has
been offered, but has not yet been accepted by Beijing. For those of you
just tuning in, we are reporting that a cataclysmic meteor strike occurred
a little less than two hours ago...”



Cologne gazed at the images on the screen, noting the tiny map in the
corner that pinpointed the exact location and scale of the blast zone,
recognizing in horror a few landmarks as the satellite imagery was relayed
over the television news. The two children with her paused and wondered
what the delay was. They had completed their training. It was time to
finally settle things up with Ranma and Shampoo.



The elderly Amazon could not seem to look away as more reports of the
tragedy were relayed to viewers. She closed her eyes and felt a sob
unexpectedly escape her, a few tears rolling down her face. She took a
moment to compose herself, surprised that one of her advanced years and
self-admittedly cynical nature could still feel such a sense of loss.



It was all moot now. She and Shampoo, as well as any other Joketsuzoku that
were away from the village when the catastrophe occurred, were all that
remained of their three thousand years of tradition and history. There was
no point in recapturing the cursed girl now, and she turned to eye the two
teens with her thoughtfully. Now that Comb and all the others of her
bloodline were gone, Shampoo was her only remaining legacy, her only
remaining family and one of the last Joketsuzoku in the world. The girl had
to be preserved at all costs now.



“Come, you two,” she said brusquely, continuing on in the direction of the
Saotome household at first before suddenly turning down a nearby alleyway.
The two with her followed eagerly, both of them hungering for revenge on
Ranma and Shampoo.



There were the sounds of a brief struggle from the alley and then an
ominous silence.



Sometime later, Akane and Ryoga woke up to find themselves lying in an
alleyway together. The pair looked at each other, neither sure what was
going on. And both of them wondered why they felt so refreshed and their
hair smelled so nice.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Perfume gazed in shock at the scenes of devastation shown to her on the
television screen. She could not believe what she was seeing.



It was gone. Her home was gone. Her mother, her family, her friends, all
gone, wiped from existence by a rock falling from space.



She would be dead too, if she had not been out hunting Shampoo. She and her
old rival were some of the few Joketsuzoku now left in the entire world,
possibly the only two remaining.



She collapsed to her knees and began to wail.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Gazing down at the Earth’s surface, Lt. Nanao adjusted their heading
slightly to avoid another satellite in high orbit. There was a lot of junk
floating around up here from the various nations, a fact she noted as her
fingers moved skillfully across the controls. After a moment, the large
dust plume in the atmosphere came into view once more as the ship completed
another orbit, the blast zone where the K-torpedo had struck.



Kozue looked at it with regret. The war had taken so much from so many
people over the years, forced the previously peaceful Matriarchy into its
present form, able to do such extreme violence to anything it perceived as
a threat. She absently touched the gold ring she still wore on her finger
and recalled her husband, dead now for three years in a savage Musk assault
on their colony, one established on a previously empty version of Earth.
They had been planning to start a family right before he died.



She missed him terribly sometimes, even seeing him in her dreams. He had
been a proper man of the Matriarchy, mild of manner and gentle of spirit,
helping take care of his mother’s household before Kozue had wed him. He
was literally one of the rare ones, a man with no analogs among the
Matriarchy’s worlds. She would never forget him, the only man who would
ever have her heart, her precious Yusako.



Her thoughts turned wistful even as her training kept her hands moving
skillfully across the controls avoiding more space junk. She wished she
could find someplace far away from the war, where she could live a more
normal life. Unlike a growing number of her peers, she did not believe that
males, especially males from beyond the borders of the Matriarchy, were all
just horrible, hateful, lust-filled creatures. She refused to believe that
a man was only good for procreation purposes.



She had known one good and kind man.



Maybe, if she wished hard enough, she would someday find one just like him
again.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Nabiki was taking her ease on the rooftop after lunch, enjoying the fresh
air. It was a free period for her, and she didn’t relish going back to
class yet. She wondered how things were going with Akane’s quest for
revenge. Her last letter from her sister indicated that it would be over
soon. She hoped it was, so they could all get on with their lives.



The next thing she knew, she found herself lying on one of the benches. She
sat up and shook her head to clear it. She must have fallen asleep. She
felt very refreshed from her nap and briefly wondered why her hair smelled
so good.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Kasumi was drying a dish after making herself some lunch. She felt tired.
She hadn’t been sleeping well since Ranma and Shampoo had left.



She was wondering how things were going with her father on his latest
outing from the house. He had been so mysterious lately, but she was happy
to see him looking so purposeful and energized, no longer just drinking and
spending his days in his room. She suddenly recalled she still needed to
hang the laundry, setting the dish into the rack to dry.



Seemingly a moment later, she awoke to find herself on the couch. She must
have been more tired than she realized. The nap had left her feeling quite
well, her head lighter, as if a burden of some kind had been removed from
her mind. And her hair seemed to smell so nice too.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Cologne studied the two men in the Saotome household from a small distance.
Incompetent, bumbling fools that they were, even those two idiots might be
able to sense someone of her power by chance. But their actions were
leaving her feeling very puzzled, watching them as they sat and drank tea
together. She was following their conversation by reading lips, but it was
only adding to her puzzlement.



Why were they conversing in Russian? What was going on?



She sensed a presence land behind her, one she recognized.



“I’m not interested in dealing with you today, Happi,” she said with a
grimace. “Leave me.”



“I just heard what happened,” she heard him speak behind her. Was that
sadness in his voice? “I’m not here to cause any trouble. Not today. How’re
you doing?”



“I just lost my entire people, so how do you think I’m doing?” Her own
voice was heavy with bitterness and grief. But she would not cry, not in
front of him, anyone else but him.



“Lots of strange things going on lately,” Happi commented, not moving from
his position. He lit his pipe and began smoking it. “I noticed you watching
my two former disciples. Something’s different about those two. Genma’s not
scared of me anymore. Oh, he twitched a little when I saw him recently, but
not his usual cowering terror.”



“I don’t care.”



“Didn’t think you would, but I just thought it was strange.” There was the
sound of him puffing on his pipe for a few moments. “The boy will take care
of Shampoo, you know. Those two are pretty close to each other now.”



“I suppose so.”



“Well, I’m around if you ever want to talk, Cologne-chan. Take care.”



The elderly Amazon went back to watching the Saotome household. The old
letch was right about one thing, she mused. Ranma would take care of
Shampoo. The girl was going to need someone strong around her right now.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“What are you gettin’ so sore at me about, Shampoo?” asked Ranma, evading
as the now-male Amazon attacked him in a savage fury.



“No talk, just fight,” growled Shampoo-kun, water having transformed the
Amazon into his present cursed form. He went after the pigtailed boy as if
he was an enemy, needing to do something to deal with what he was feeling.
Unshed tears burned in his eyes.



They had heard the news at school, one of their classmates commenting on
the massive meteor strike in China. It was on all the networks. Some of the
news organizations were speculating if there would be a second impact.
Scientists were being brought in to speculate.



Crying felt wrong, a weak thing to do even in the face of such horrific
tragedy, an action unbecoming of a Joketsuzoku. Then later, on the way
home, water had transformed the Amazon into a boy. Ranma had tried to cheer
him up, but he didn’t want cheering up. He needed someone to vent his
sudden upwelling of rage on.



It went on for a long time and became close to a real fight to the finish
between the two of them towards the end. The match eventually ended in a
draw when both of them pulled back from stepping over that line. At the
conclusion, the two of them collapsed to sit back to back, panting, both of
them covered in numerous cuts and bruises. Shampoo-kun spit blood from his
mouth from a split lip caused by one of Ranma’s fists to his face. Pain
radiated from his ribs as well as a wrenched shoulder. One of his eyes hurt
and was swelling shut.



“It’s... gonna be okay... Shampoo,” Ranma gasped out. He tongued one of his
teeth, feeling it a little loose in his mouth. His stomach hurt from one of
the cursed Amazon’s kicks connecting solidly and his jaw ached. One of his
eyes hurt and was blurry, and some blood was still dripping from his nose.



Shampoo-kun got tiredly back to his feet and offered Ranma a hand up. When
the two were finally standing, they just looked at each other for a few
moments. Each of them had a black eye on opposite sides of their faces.



“It’s gonna be okay,” Ranma repeated. “Your home is here now. With us. Pop,
Mom and me. You still got a home.”



Shampoo-kun nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He felt on the edge of
losing it completely. Nothing, not even getting a Jusenkyo curse, had ever
felt as horrible to him as knowing that likely everyone he grew up with was
dead. Thoughts of his mother and father being gone were like a raw wound in
his soul.



Hesitantly, Ranma put his arms around the cursed girl’s shoulders and
guided him home. He could feel Shampoo-kun trembling.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Captain Nogami sat at the small table in her cabin and considered the
electronic tablet Commander Nattori had presented to her. The two of them
were alone, drinking coffee together as they spoke. The tablet display
detailed what the crew had found from their analysis of the black box
information and the debris field.



“<You’re sure about this?>“ the captain asked.



She received a nod from her subordinate. “<We’re still analyzing what was
left of the wreckage, but it confirms the log information in the black box.
No escape pods were jettisoned. The entire crew complement died in valiant
action against the Musk vessel. There were absolutely no survivors.>“ She
paused. “<But the story doesn’t quite end there.>“



“<Explain.>“



“<While in this tangent, the Huntress encountered a resonator signal being
beamed here from an unknown origin point. It was from a distance currently
thought impossible for a transmission to reach, not without the aid of
repeater stations along the way. It used a new frequency and modulation
technique that also enabled it to bypass the jamming methods we use to
prevent the enemy creating agents within our borders. After learning that
the Musk vessel sent three agents piggybacked along its carrier wave back
to the origin of the signal, the captain of the Huntress made the decision
to send an engram copy of one of her crew, Ensign Shan Pu, to investigate
what was on the other end. The young ensign was the only one on board with
a match on the tangent of the signal’s origin.>“



The captain frowned. “<We’ll have to report our findings back to High
Command immediately. General Ko Em will need to hear first-hand that her
daughter’s possibly still alive, as well as the discovery of a new
resonator-capable culture with such incredible range. The Musk had been
working on such technology, but we stopped that in its tracks when our
ships bombed their base a little over two years ago.>“ She stood up and
drank the last of her coffee.



“<Get us ready to leave when you’ve completed your analysis work and drop a
full-spectrum scanning buoy to monitor what’s happening in this tangent
while we’re gone. Make sure it has plenty of memory capacity. We might not
be back for a while.>“



“<Aye aye, Captain.>“



“<We’ll be making a short jump into a nearby paraverse before we leave for
home. We need to get more information. Ready an incursion team to
investigate the source of the paratransponder signal and retrieve it if
possible. We’ll be taking it back to the Matriarchy with us.>” The captain
paused. “<Was Commander Silk able to get back on board before we left
port?>”



“<Negative, Captain. The commander was delayed, but she did send word
expressing full confidence that her immediate subordinates could handle
anything combat-related that came up.>”



That brought a shiver up the captain’s back. Without a strong woman like
Silk to ride herd on her two subordinates in the field, there was no
telling what they might do when they were unleashed on the planet below.
The duo had been together since their academy days, and their careers had
kept them together when it was realized early on they were more easily
controlled that way. They held the record for the most promotions and
demotions of any two officers in the Matriarchy, once rising as high as the
rank of major before both were busted back down to the lowliest ranks. The
two in question currently held the rank of lieutenant, and there was a
betting pool going on as to how long the two Japanese women would hang on
to their ranks this time.



The captain shivered again at the thought of their nickname, the one that
always prompted a fight in port, one that was often accompanied with heavy
collateral damage and a subsequent demotion, if it was ever mentioned
within their earshot.



The Dirty Pair.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Genma was about to switch the device off and open it up to see how the
components were holding up when a shimmering suddenly appeared in the air
near him and Soun and quickly blossomed out into a roundish region of
blue-shifted light. A moment later two figures suddenly appeared there,
stepping out of the distortion, the duo uniformed and armed with rifles
held firmly in their gloved hands. Sheer surprise caused both men to
hesitate.



The resulting combat was brief. Seen underneath the door leading to the
room Genma was using as his private study were two brief flashes of light,
accompanied by two muted sounds that were very similar to gunfire.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Genma regained consciousness slowly, feeling like he was hung over. He had
no idea how long he’d been unconscious. The smells of steel and various
metallic oils were in his nostrils, and he opened his eyes to see he was
lying on a bare deck, in a chamber made of steel walls. Judging by his
position, he had been thrown into the room he found himself in. He gathered
himself and slowly got to his knees, his head beginning to clear.
Fortunately, he still had his glasses, and he centered them back on his
nose. It was then he noticed he was not alone.



“Do you speak Japanese?” he heard a familiar female voice ask suddenly and
brusquely.



When he looked up, the redheaded woman with the disturbingly familiar face
with him in the chamber looked at him coolly, her hair cropped shorter than
his wife’s. She was sleekly muscled and athletic, the skintight uniform she
wore showing off her shapely figure. A blue sash was worn at her waist. She
had an easy manner about her as she stood up and moved that spoke of
significant fighting experience.



“I-” Genma coughed, feeling thick phlegm in his throat. “I speak Japanese,”
he finally croaked out.



“Good, that will make your interrogation go much easier,” she said. “What
is your name, male?”



“Where am I?”



In his still dazed state, he was unable to avoid her sudden move. Her fist
slammed across his face, blasting it to one side and causing him to stagger
back a step. After a moment, he spit out blood from a cut on the inside of
his cheek.



“I ask the questions here, male!” Apparently to make sure he was paying
attention, she hit him again, knocking him back into the bulkhead. He
promptly collapsed to the deck once again, coughing in pain from where her
fist had hit his floating ribs.



“I-I’m Genma S-Saotome,” he said slowly, coughing briefly, gathering
himself back to his knees. “I’m a professor of cosmology, mathematics and
ontology. Can I at least know who I am speaking to? What this is about?”



The woman smirked. “I am Nodoka Kamiya, male. You are now a captive of the
Solnoid Matriarchy, and you will answer my questions.”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Soun regained consciousness, but he showed no sign of it. Keeping his eyes
closed, he used his other senses and began cataloging what he found in his
surroundings. It had been a while since he had last experienced something
like this. The smells in the air reminded him of a submarine, having an
oily, metallic tang to it that atmospheric scrubbers could never seem to
completely remove. He was lying on some kind of metallic surface, possibly
some sort of deck plating. His nerves felt jangled like the aftermath of
being hit by a high-powered taser. He could also detect another presence in
the room with him.



“Pretending to be unconscious will only irritate me, male,” said an oddly
familiar female voice. There was the sound of a seated person changing
position slightly.



He lifted himself slowly from the deck, his head clearing as blood seemed
to move through his body again. He came to rest for a moment in a seated
position. When he lifted his head, his training abandoned him for a single
moment at what he saw.



“Kimiko,” he breathed.



The woman seated on one end of the sleeping bench in the cell narrowed her
gaze at him. Her hair was worn shoulder-length and held back in a ponytail,
longer than his dead wife’s, but the face was identical. He was always good
at remembering faces, not that he could ever forget hers. She even had a
faint scar on her chin like Kimiko had, his wife having picked it up in a
teenaged mishap of some kind.



“You know me, male?” Her tone was brusque and cool. It reminded him of how
his wife had been when they first met.



“I knew a woman who looked very much like you,” he said after a moment.
Then he remembered his training. “My name is Soun Tendo, and you are?”



“Your jailer, Soun Tendo,” said the woman with Kimiko’s face with a smirk
that reminded Soun of Nabiki. “I am Kimiko Nakakami, and you are now a
prisoner of the Solnoid Matriarchy. We have many questions to ask you.”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Later on, the two lieutenants met with the captain to report on their
findings. The captain sat behind her desk, hands clasped together as she
listened. There was not very much to learn from the initial attempt at
interrogation, but the males would eventually break and tell them
everything they wanted to know. Few ever resisted for long.



She turned to face Commander Nattori. “<What do you have for me?>”



The woman crunched another one of her ever-present pocky sticks before
speaking. “<My technicians are examining the broadcast device, and we’ve
hooked it up to ship’s power while we run tests. The diagrams and notes we
found near where it was running have been very helpful. The technology is
quite revolutionary in concept, and it explains why we were able to detect
it at such extreme range. I have also completed analyzing the brain scans
done when they were both brought on board, and the two of them show clear
signs of significant resonator activity in the memory regions of their
brains, possibly even an engram imprint. I’d say it was fairly recent,
perhaps weeks ago at most.>”



“<I don’t think they’re Musk,>” Nodoka said after the other woman finished
speaking. “<The heavyset one doesn’t have that naked disdain for females
that a Musky would have in their eyes.>”



“He interests you, doesn’t he, Nodoka-chan?” said Kimiko teasingly,
switching for a moment to Japanese.



“He does not!” the redhead seethed. “He probably doesn’t even know how to
fight! He said he was a professor!”



Seeing the smirk on the other woman’s face and the knowing look in her
eyes, Nodoka was very tempted to wipe that smirk away with a punch to
Kimiko’s mouth. It irritated her that the other woman was right. The male
was an analog for the mate of one of her own analogs, a woman who ran one
of the brothels in the capital world’s port. They even had twins together,
Ranma and Ranko, who called her “Auntie” whenever she stopped in for a
visit. She understood the boy was quite popular with the female cadets who
frequented the place and had a few regulars who preferred him to any other
comfort male. The girl was studying business and would likely inherit the
brothel when her mother retired.



“<Are you two quite through excluding us from your conversation?>” the
captain asked irritably in Solnoid.



“<Pardon, Captain,>” said Kimiko gently, shifting back to Solnoid as she
elbowed Nodoka in the ribs. “<I was just teasing my cohort here. Her
biological clock is ticking, and she has yet to find a male strong enough
to best her.>”



Nodoka contemplated brutalizing Kimiko again, feeling her emotions seethe
within her once more. It had been a while since their last brawl together,
and they were due. While drunk after one mission, she had foolishly
admitted to her friend that she envied that analog her happiness and having
a family. Unwinding with various comfort males after missions had been fun
when she was younger, but the thought of having her own mate, a male to
call her own and have children with like that other Nodoka did, had been
growing more attractive to her as she got older.



The captain smiled. She had forgotten that anyone still followed the
ancient ways of the Matriarchy other than those of the Joketsuzoku Order,
staunch believers of its eugenic practices. Kimiko and Nodoka were both
firm adherents to those tenets, despite their otherwise worldly manner.



“<What about the beacon, Captain?>” asked the woman still chewing on a
pocky. “<If they weren’t signaling the Musk, then who were they trying to
call?>”



“<Leave it active,>” the captain ordered. “<We’ll take it with us and see
who might come visiting it.>” She pointed at the two lieutenants. “<You two
continue interrogating the prisoners, but don’t be too harsh with them.
Since they do not appear to be Musk operatives, they are not to be treated
as the enemy.>”



“<They’re males,>” snorted Kimiko derisively. “<Of course they’re the
enemy. All males are, even if they aren’t Musk.>”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth 0.000, 0.000



Ranma’s device suddenly went blank, the digital readout ceasing to count
down as its circuits detected the original signal end and a new signal
start up a few moments later. The digital readout on its face blinked
several times as it started to recalculate the time until a portal could be
opened to the new destination.



This process repeated about once every five minutes.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Silk gazed at the photographs on the table in front of her and frowned.
They showed four bodies in various states of recent decomposition, two of
the replicants and their hunters. The bodies had been discovered a day
after Asagiri had radioed in that she and her partner were about to engage
the escapees and attempt subdual. The battle must have been quite savage,
judging by the sheer numbers of rounds expended at the scene and the state
of the bodies. One of the Musk had torn both arms from one of the women
before expiring from multiple gunshot wounds; the two of them found lying
together in death. The security detail had tried to describe the carnage to
her.



She turned to the representative from the Mobius Institute, who looked back
at her with a calm expression on his face. “Have your people been able to
determine what happened?” she asked him. “The lilith called Herb is missing
from this gruesome scene.”



The Institute inspector adjusted his glasses and responded, “We have gone
over the area thoroughly with forensic postcognitives working alongside the
Security Directorate’s criminological experts, and together we have
reconstructed the events leading up to the end with what we are certain is
a high degree of accuracy. The missing lilith you refer to was struck
through the head with a single round near the beginning of the conflict,
and the agent doing the viewing is quite confident it was a mortal wound.
All our subsequent attempts at tracking down the lilith have failed. No
mind matching the last pattern we have on record was found.” He looked at
her steadily. “Herb is dead.”



“Thank you for your help in this matter,” said Silk, standing and bowing
respectfully to the man. “Please give my regards to Director Kasuga for his
assistance, Inspector.”



The man stood and bowed in return, his stiff expression softening at her
politeness. He had heard that Silk was a more hard-edged woman, and
extremely unforgiving of bad news she had to report to Moreau. “I shall do
so, Silk-san.” He stood and looked at her. “I had heard the Director was
assisting you in recovering your lost memories.”



“He tried,” Silk replied, her expression returning to its usual level of
hardness. “They were unable to be reconstructed, something I will someday
repay Keel Lorentz for in full.” There was a pause. “You may go, Inspector.”



He bowed and left the room, relieved that it was not him who had earned
such wrath from her. Silk sat down and pulled out a cigarette from the case
kept in her jacket pocket. She lit it up with a practiced move and frowned
at the information given her as she set her lighter down. She placed the
photographs back in their file folder and closed it before she sighed,
smoke curling out her nostrils.



The case of the escaped replicants was over, and she began preparing her
notes for closing the files on Herb, Lime and Mint. It was a shame that two
capable women had lost their lives, but the pair could take comfort in the
afterlife at their efforts. She took another drag on her cigarette as she
wrote, already looking forward to leaving this place and returning with
Moreau-hakase to his laboratory.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The Yellow Flag was a seedy establishment that Perfume had learned of
during her search for passage to Japan. She was told that smugglers and
pirates could be found there, and hopefully one of them was skilled enough
to ferry them to the Empire’s home islands and hungry enough for money to
take the risk. To avoid drawing too much attention to herself, having
learned the hard way in other such bars she had made inquiries in, that
lustful, disrespectful men filled this wretched city and were distressingly
aggressive with attractive young women, she had covered her usual silk
outfit with a dark hooded cloak. She carried her sword at her waist.



She and Mousse went in through the front door. The smells of alcohol,
vomit, tobacco and even narcotics made for a truly rancid combination of
scents, and her nose wrinkled as it assaulted her nostrils. Mousse was a
solemn presence next to her. The assembled patrons gave the pair a brief
eye before going back to drinking and doing whatever villainous things they
were previously up to.



The bartender, Bao, wiped a glass with a rag casually as he watched the
pair with solemn eyes. He had just rebuilt his place for the fourth time,
and he was hoping to get through the night in peace rather than in pieces.
Cloaked and hooded strangers usually meant trouble for him.



“<Can I help you two?>” he asked in Thai, when they arrived at the bar. He
saw the boy watching the room while the cloaked figure, a girl, stood in
front of him. He doubted that the boy’s thick glasses were doing him much
good in the dim light though.



“I’ve been told we might find passage to other places here,” Perfume said
calmly in Japanese, not quite sure what the man had just said.



“Do I look like a travel agent?” Bao inquired, shifting to Japanese,
setting the glass down and leaning forward on the bar. “You and the boy on
your honeymoon or something?”



The next thing he knew, his face was slammed down on the bar, his cheek
pressed against it as the girl leaned in closer, her gaze unfriendly and
dangerous now. “I am not amused by your joke,” Perfume said softly. Behind
her, she heard Mousse shift slightly in response to some of the bar patrons
acting agitated by her actions.



“<Can we please avoid another fight?>” Mousse asked mildly in their native
Mandarin. “<We’re going to run out of bars before we find passage at the
rate we’re going.>”



“S-sorry! Sorry!” Bao gasped out, feeling the girl’s hand gripping his
shirt collar tightly. He pointed to one of the corner areas. “Talk to
Dutch. He might be able to do something for you.”



“Thank you,” Perfume said graciously as she released his collar. “You have
been most helpful.”



Walking over to the table with Mousse trailing along after her, Perfume saw
a pair of men seated there. One of them appeared African to her, a large
man, heavily muscled and carrying a dangerous air about him. The other was
Japanese and quite handsome to Perfume’s eye, but his look was too openly
appraising of her for her tastes as he sipped his beer. Despite his much
more casual appearance, she could sense a dangerous air about him too.



“Which one of you is Dutch?” she asked, standing at their table.



“That would be him, cutie,” said the Japanese man with a grin, gesturing
with his thumb at the other seated with him.



She made an attempt to repeat her face slam trick with him, but he moved
back just enough to avoid her, and she was surprised at his speed. He just
grinned at her, almost boyishly. “Easy there, princess. No need to get
rough.” As an afterthought he added, “Ryo Saeba, at your service.”



“I’m Dutch,” said the African-looking man. “I know it won’t be easy, but
try not to kill him. It’s just his way.” He gestured at the far side of the
booth. “Take a load off and relax.”



“We’re looking for a ship,” Perfume said after she and Mousse sat down.



“A ship we have,” Dutch replied. He took a sip of his beer, not taking his
eyes off either the girl or the boy.



“We’re in kind of a hurry.” Perfume closed her cloak a bit more, not liking
the Japanese man’s regard of her. “Is it a fast ship?”



“Fast ship?” interjected Ryo. “You’ve never heard of the Black Lagoon?”



“Should I have?” Perfume’s gaze was cool. She was wondering if the
irritating man was making fun of her.



“It’s the ship that made the Kyoto run in less than twelve hours,” he
replied and then leaned forward. “We’ve outrun Imperial warships, not the
local cruisers, mind you. I’m talking about the big Korean-made ships now.
She’s fast enough for you, cutie-pie. What’s the cargo?”



“Only passengers,” Perfume said, still frowning at his manner with her.
“Myself, my companion here and no questions asked.”



“What is it? Some kind of local trouble? Or are you two running away
together?”



Perfume was sorely tempted to draw her sword at the last question. She
answered stiffly, “Let’s just say we’d like to avoid any Imperial
entanglements.” She wasn’t sure how well their purchased travel papers
would stand up to a detailed inspection and would prefer to avoid it.



Ryo grinned. “Well, that’s the trick, isn’t it? And it’s going to cost you
something extra. Two hundred momme of gold, in advance.”



Perfume’s gaze narrowed. “We could almost buy our own ship for that.”



“But who’s going to pilot it, girl? You? Your boyfriend?”



The Amazon was sorely tempted to attack again. In all the bars they had
visited, why did men always assume Mousse was her boyfriend? She chose to
lay this current indignity on the pile she was accumulating for her
eventual meeting with Shampoo. Her rage at the other girl was growing more
profound by the day, almost an ache deep inside her.



“I have an alternate proposition,” Mousse stated calmly, hoping to defuse
the situation before Perfume got them into another senseless fight. He
adjusted his glasses. “We will pay you a hundred now, plus another hundred
and twenty-five when we reach Kyoto.”



“Two twenty-five, huh?” Ryo and Dutch considered the offer, looking at each
other briefly. Dutch nodded and Ryo looked at them with a smile. “Okay, you
two’ve got yourself a ship. Be at dock ninety-four early tomorrow morning
at dawn, and we’ll ship out.”



“Ninety-four.” Mousse nodded. The two got up and left.



“<I could have handled that,>” Perfume seethed at him in Mandarin when they
got outside. “<We didn’t have to pay so much of _my_ money.>”



“<We got a ship, didn’t we?>” Mousse said irritably. “<Come on, let’s go
get something to eat.>”



“<Don’t presume to make decisions for me, Mu Tse!>” Perfume dropped her
hand to her sword. “<I am not one of these weak, outsider women! I will
teach you respect, if you push me too far.>”



“<Understood.>” Mousse let the blade he had summoned to his hand fade as
the girl began calming down. “<Can we go eat now?>”



Perfume’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food, and she glared at him as
if daring him to say something at her expense. When he did not, she stalked
off, head held high.



Wisely, Mousse held his tongue and followed.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The Arena Director eyed the monitor image as he studied Ranma entering the
main gate to the Battledome, a young woman at his side. He saw the boy
laugh at something the girl said. He made a commanding gesture, and Ana
came over to him. Uni was off taking care of another task for him, but he
doubted it would require both Pumas to deal with one teenaged boy.



“Young Saotome is here, Ana. Take two security officers with you and escort
him to the green room to get ready for his match. If he gives you any
trouble, you have my permission to be forceful with him, but do not harm
him significantly before his match.”



The catgirl nodded and marched out, checking her truncheon in its holster
as she departed, a smile on her face.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Yumi and Jun Fan Lee sat together in a box seat that he owned, a gift from
the Emperor many years ago at Lee’s ascension to becoming a full citizen.
Like all box seats, the front was covered with thick one-way glass,
allowing them a measure of privacy and quiet. Together, they watched the
crowds filling the Battledome.



“You really know how to treat your friends well,” Yumi said with a grin,
before taking a drink from the beer she held in her hand, an expensive brew
obtained from the refrigerator in the room. Her stomach felt pleasantly
full after dinner. “I haven’t spent a Friday night at the Arena in a long
time. Thanks for inviting me.”



Lee gave her a smile and came over to sit down in one of the four
comfortable seats placed right in front of the glass. “I’m glad you
accepted. There’s a fighter here that I’m interested in your opinion on. I
think she’d be perfect for a movie I’m trying to cast.”



“Oh? Not that Mina Li girl, I hope.” Yumi took another sip of her beer.
“She seems a bit psycho to be a good actress.”



Lee shook his head. “You might be surprised how psychotic actresses can
be.” He looked briefly thoughtful. “No, she’s not the one. But I am
considering her for a villain role in the movie. No, the girl I want you to
observe tonight is Shampoo. Her technique is almost flawless, and she’s
extremely photogenic.”



“I’ve heard of her,” Yumi replied. “I think my niece mentioned her a few
times. She follows the Arena contenders more than I do though. What’s the
name of the movie?”



“Young Master: The Legend Begins,” Lee said before taking a sip of his
beer. “I think Shampoo would be perfect for the heroine role, since I need
a Chinese girl for it who really knows how to fight.” He looked at Yumi.
“I’ve been considering asking Ranma if he’d like to try out for the leading
role. He’s got more than enough fighting talent to be believable on screen.”



“I don’t know if Ranma has any interest in acting.” Yumi took another drink
of her beer. She shrugged. “But you’re right. I think he’d be a great
choice for an action movie star, at least as far as the physical abilities
needed.”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Down the hallway a short way from where Yumi and Lee were now seated,
another couple made their way commandingly to a different box seat. The
figure of Cardinal Synn and his companion, a hooded and robed woman dressed
as a Tetragrammaton Nun plowed through the crowd by sheer force of
presence. People got out of their way instinctively, as they would any
predator, and they arrived without incident at their destination.



The woman unlocked the door with a magnetic key card and went in before the
Cardinal, pulling a small device from her robes as he locked and bolted the
door behind them. She began carefully scanning the room, finding and
destroying a small handful of monitoring devices. When she was satisfied
that the room was clean, she flipped back the hood of her robe, revealing
the stunningly beautiful face of a Chinese woman with sea-blue hair that
fell in graceful waves to just below her shoulders. She began shrugging off
her concealing robes, giving it the appearance of a striptease for the
benefit of her companion.



Beneath that mantle of cloth, she wore a golden dress with slender straps
that tied behind her neck, the slit in her calf-length skirt revealing
long, graceful legs. Her athletic frame radiated graceful power and
feminine sensuality. The dress was backless, her favored style, showing an
amazingly lifelike Tiger tattoo that took up the majority of her back. To
those who knew her, this woman was called the Tigress, but she had once
been known as Lao Cane, a Joketsuzoku. The feline depicted in her tattoo
was identical to its mistress, radiating power and possessing a beauty that
called out for it to be tamed. She rarely flaunted the image, preferring it
remained hidden, unless she wanted to show it off. The man she was with had
earned that privilege and more.



He had paused to watch her remove her outer covering, drinking in the sight
of her, and then he did the same, beginning by removing his mask. Behind
the covering, the visage of Shishio Makoto was revealed, a clone of the
original and possessed of all that one’s memories and skills, and he smiled
at her when it was removed. She was one of the few people in the world who
had ever seen his genuine smile. He unbelted his swords and set them down
with reverence, for they were the original Makoto’s blades, acquired at
great cost. He then began removing his outer robes and formal armor, taking
his time, knowing that doing so would inflame the woman’s libido.



He had barely removed the last item, leaving himself clad in a black
bodysuit and boots, when she flowed over to him and embraced him. Her mouth
became one with his as the two exchanged a deep kiss. He held her tightly,
feeling her ardor arousing his own.



“Airen,” she breathed in a husky tone. “Thank you for your invitation
tonight. I know I saw you only recently, but it seems like ages each time
we are apart.”



“Indeed.” He smiled at her again. “I thought you might enjoy seeing the
girl from your former village fight tonight, my wife. I understand she has
a new suitor vying for her hand, and this one seems like he might be very
special.” He picked her up easily and carried her to the couch in the room,
her hands beginning to unfasten his remaining garments. His tone turned
darker. “The director of this facility hired Golgo to prevent tonight’s
suitor for the girl from winning. I am troubled by this.”



Laying her down on the couch, he could tell by the look in her eyes that
she was not interested in talking right now. He smiled at her and laid down
next to her. Then no further words were spoken for a while.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma relaxed back into his seat. They still had plenty of time before the
matches were scheduled to begin, so they had been chatting while waiting,
the evening going very well so far. Nabiki was off visiting the facilities,
the train ride having been a bit long getting here. While he waited, Ranma
watched people moving to their seats around the Battledome. This place is
huge, he thought with a small amount of awe.



He had read that the Tokyo Battledome was remodeled a few years ago to
provide a variable fighting area to increase audience excitement. At the
flip of a few switches in the control room, spikes could be raised through
the floor, metal plates and a thin layer of oil could be spread to make
footing more treacherous, or any of a dozen other obstacles could be
placed. This was to make the fights within the Plexiglas walls surrounding
the fighting area more dangerous, which meant it was more exciting for the
audiences to watch. Currently, the floor was set in its default mode, a
bare, rubberized surface.



As he was drinking the soda he’d bought before coming to their seats, a
presence suddenly loomed over him. Ranma looked up, startled to see a tall
Puma in paramilitary garb looking down at him. The sight of her catlike
ears and slit-pupiled eyes almost made him spit out his soda.



“Saotome-san,” Ana said with a professional smile. “If you would please
come with us. We are to escort you to the ready room to prepare you for
your match against Shampoo.”



Ranma suddenly realized that the fake Genma had outmaneuvered him rather
neatly. It had been a trap, and he’d just walked right into it like a
trusting fool. “And what if I refuse?”



“By the terms of your contract, that would be considered a forfeit to the
Amazon. Your six months in the Arena would begin immediately, and you would
lose the opportunity for a rematch after one month.” She continued to
smile, the expression growing more predatory, and her hand dropping to rest
on her truncheon.



“Six-?” Ranma started to blurt out. He eyed the lilith briefly and then he
nodded. “Fine. All right. I’ll fight.”



He stood up and went with them.



A few minutes later, Nabiki arrived back at their seats and wondered where
Ranma was. His drink was in the armrest cupholder, accumulating
condensation. She assumed he’d gone to the restroom and sat down to wait
for him to come back.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Far away from the Battledome, in the village of the Joketsuzoku, the
Matriarchs of the village gathered in the Council Hall. Cologne, most
respected elder in the village, bounced in atop her staff accompanied by
Shampoo’s mother, Comb, the Enforcer for the will of the Council. Comb was
an attractive woman with dark purple hair, quite young in appearance for a
woman in her thirties, armed with a pair of battle axes slung at her back,
the emblems of her position as the Enforcer.



“<You are certain that Shan Pu is scheduled to fight tonight?>“ asked
Cologne in Mandarin.



“<That is what the program has printed,>“ replied Comb with a slightly
aggrieved tone as she flipped through the pages of the document in
question. The village received one every month, a glossy book detailing all
the matches that were scheduled to take place. At Cologne’s direct request,
Comb dutifully went through it at the beginning of every month and marked
down the times of Shampoo’s matches. The Matriarch had seen every single
one. While she greatly missed her great-granddaughter, she consoled herself
with the knowledge that Shampoo would return to the village a far greater
fighter than she ever was before, and also likely an Imperial citizen at
the rate she was going.



The two Amazons watched the rest of the council entering into the hall, the
Matriarch Be Dea entering with one of her usual sour expressions. Comb
exchanged a brief look of mutually chilly disdain with Perfume’s mother,
Peh Yin, Be Dea’s ally among the more traditional faction of the council.
Cologne sat at the head of the chamber due to her rank, which also happened
to give her the very best view of the village’s sole television. It had
been purchased when Shampoo first left, in anticipation of the girl’s
ascension to her current venue for fighting.



Cologne enjoyed being able to witness the girl’s progress from afar, a live
broadcast the next best thing to being present. She always kept very
careful watch during each match, and she sent detailed critiques of every
one of Shampoo’s fights in her weekly letters, along with compliments as
the girl’s technique developed. Her great-granddaughter had improved
extremely well in the months she had been gone, far beyond what she had
been capable of when she won the village’s tournament before her departure.



It was little wonder that no outsider male had been able to best the girl.
If one finally did, he would be truly extraordinary. A male like that as
her husband would earn Shampoo and her family great honor, and their
children would strengthen the village greatly. However, with each suitor
that Shampoo sent down to crushing defeat, even suitors that would have
possibly defeated her only a year ago, Cologne found herself wondering if
any young man would ever win Shampoo’s hand.



Occasionally, Cologne mused, there were women of the village who went
undefeated by any man for their entire life. Silk had been one such warrior
and Comb’s best friend. That one had finally left the village to seek her
fortune seven years ago and vanished without a trace. It was assumed she
was dead.



She abruptly turned her thoughts away from such gloomy things, watching as
one of the younger women turned on the television. I will give these
outsiders credit for one thing; they create the most amazing devices for
entertainment, Cologne thought with a smile, eyeing the television briefly
as she sat and listened to the chatter in the room.



In addition to watching Shampoo’s matches, the Matriarchs also used the
device to remain aware of events going on in the outside world. While the
mail was delivered each month with typical Imperial efficiency, many on the
Council had grown used to the convenience of receiving news through the
television. Many Matriarchs would never admit it, but they had also grown
somewhat addicted to the daily drama programs. Cologne would most
especially deny it, quite vehemently if pressed on the matter.



“<You seem unusually quiet tonight, Granddaughter,>“ noticed Cologne as she
looked at the Enforcer.



“<It is nothing, Grandmother,>“ replied Comb with a slight shake of her
head. “<A personal matter.>“



“<What affects one Amazon also affects us all, child,>“ said Cologne with a
smile. “<Tell me what troubles you.>“



“<I am finding myself growing restless at remaining in our village,
Grandmother.>“ Comb hung her head sadly. “<I think I grow envious of all
that Shan Pu has experienced in the outside world.>” There was a pause.
“<And I miss her.>“



“<Ah, I thought as much,>“ said Cologne. “<Perhaps a trip might not be out
of order for the two of us.>“



“<The _two_ of us, Grandmother?>“ Comb looked at the elderly Amazon in
surprise.



“<I too have been feeling restless of late,>“ replied Cologne. “<I sense
something momentous is about to affect our village in some way, and I think
that it will involve Shan Pu.>“



“<Should we warn her?>“ Comb unsheathed one of her axes, flipped it
casually from hand to hand, and then re-sheathed it at her back.



“<Warn her of what, child? The vague, uneasy feelings that I have been
having as of late? No. I think whatever is about to begin should be allowed
to take shape of its own accord. I will influence it when the time is
right. For now, we will sit here and watch Shan Pu show the strength of the
Joketsuzoku to the world once again.>“ Cologne smiled.



“<As you command, Grandmother,> said Comb with a slight bow. “<My honor is
to serve.>“



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth +4.741, +4.622



“We have explained to you repeatedly that we are not part of this Musk
Dynasty you are at war with, so why are you still holding us?” Genma asked
Nodoka sharply. He had sensed faint quiverings in his inner ear as the ship
began making something called ‘phase translations’ every five minutes or
so, and another one had just completed. “For that matter, just where are
you taking us?”



The woman he was addressing eyed him irritably. Now that he and Soun were
fully recovered from their capture this morning, they had been taken to
bathe, been given clean clothes and gotten something to eat, all done under
escort by their two captors. Before going back to their cells, they were
now being allowed to have a little exercise. Other crew in the gymnasium
area watched the male arguing with the redhead with interest. Word had
spread on the ship that a pair of males had been taken aboard, not Musk but
also not like Matriarchy men. There was a certain amount of curiosity at
seeing a male speaking up for himself like this.



“You are being brought to the core worlds of the Matriarchy, Genma
Saotome,” Nodoka said with a frown. “Our scientists are very interested in
learning more about you and your home. Resonator technology is unheard of
in paraverses beyond control of the Matriarchy and the Musk.” She was not
certain how to deal with him. A Musk she would have likely killed by now
for being so impertinent with her, and a man of the Matriarchy would not
address one of the superior gender so. He perplexed her.



“We are not your enemies,” Soun said sincerely to Kimiko, looking at her.



“You are male,” Kimiko immediately declared when she met his gaze, as if
that explained everything. “All males have the potential to become feral
savages like the Musk.”



“Is there nothing we can do to convince you to let us go?” Genma looked at
Nodoka in exasperation. “Can I speak to your captain about this?”



The redhead smiled wolfishly. “I’ll tell you what, Genma Saotome. If you
can defeat me in single combat, I will take you to speak with the captain
about your request and be your advocate.” Seeing his look of surprise, she
smiled more broadly, confident that her challenge would go unanswered.
After all, the man had said in his interviews that he was a scientist. Even
if he had accepted, no male had ever defeated her.



Genma pondered the situation briefly. He had left a life of violence behind
in his teenage years, but circumstances kept confronting him with
situations requiring fighting as the answer rather than reasoned discourse.
Also, the superior attitude of the woman before him with Nodoka’s face
irritated him, her manner clear that she thought little of him and expected
him to back down meekly before her threat.



“I accept,” he said, adjusting his glasses and gazing solemnly at her. The
worst that could happen would be a beating, he supposed.



Nodoka blinked. She noticed her crewmates watching her with interest.
Kimiko was also observing her, her expression unreadable.



“No one is to interfere!” the redhead snapped out, glaring at the women in
the room. She took up a stance, supremely confident in her skills and
defiant in the glare she gave him. “Come and get me, if you dare, Genma
Saotome.”



Their duel began simply, the two of them merely testing each other’s
defenses at first. Genma felt odd, facing an opponent like her, a woman
wearing his wife’s face but far more obstinate and irritatingly proud. He
mentally shrugged as they quickly began getting more aggressive with each
other, and he was startled to realize he recognized her style, the same one
that the Chinese girl Shampoo used: Joketsuzoku Kung Fu. That gave him a
slight advantage, for he was familiar with her style from his many sparring
matches with the Chinese Amazon, and Nodoka was likely not familiar with
his. And the Anything-Goes School was founded on using every one of an
opponent’s exploitable weaknesses to achieve victory.



Off to one side, Soun wasn’t sure what to make of the wolfish smile that
Genma suddenly showed on his face. He recognized the woman’s style as well,
but wasn’t sure what good that would do his friend. He knew what Karate and
Kendo looked like too, but he wouldn’t claim that gave him any particular
advantage over practitioners of those arts. Then he saw the man beginning
to probe at very specific areas of the woman’s defenses, as if trying to
provoke a certain response. When Nodoka extended her arm a fraction of an
inch too far making a punch in reply to one such probe, Genma grasped it
with his left hand and then twisted it outwards and down in a sudden,
brutal motion even as he drove his right hand, curled into a fist, straight
up into the Matriarchy soldier’s jaw. Soun could hear the impact from where
he stood, and Kimiko winced.



Nodoka felt her brain go blank from the force of the blow, absently
realizing the male had stunned her. Her movements suddenly felt like she
was weighed down with cement coating all of her limbs. She managed to block
the next two attacks he made by reflex alone, her body moving only using
instincts honed on a hundred battlefields. She felt a punch slam into her
gut when she missed the following strike and then her world went black when
Genma’s follow-up roundhouse kick impacted into her ribs and sent her
flying into the wall of the gymnasium.



When she recovered her senses, Kimiko was looking down at her with an
unreadable expression, puzzling Nodoka. Why was she lying on the floor?
What just happened? The very last thing she remembered, she had been
fighting with the irritating male. She suddenly shot up into a sitting
position and looked at Genma, kneeling next to her and looking with concern
at her. An array of thoughts whirled through her mind and then quickly
settled. An odd sort of warmth seemed to fill her as she looked at him and
realized what he had done, a feat no other male had ever achieved.



“I’m glad to see that you’re awake so soon, Kamiya-san,” Genma said. He was
startled when the woman suddenly looked at him softly, unshed tears
suddenly appearing in her eyes. “Uh, that is-”



Nodoka felt extremely happy as she put her arms around his neck in a quick
movement, bringing her face very close to Genma’s and her body up tight
against his. “It’s you that I love,” she said suddenly and with extreme
certainty.



She then bestowed upon him the Kiss of Marriage.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



*** Earth 0.000, 0.000



High above the Arena floor, Uni was leading the man the Director had
instructed her to assist past security. Tonight, that task was much more
difficult than it would normally be. The Arena was hosting a very special
guest tonight, but his presence was kept secret for security.



The Emperor was in attendance tonight.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The last of the stragglers found their seats as Nabiki was beginning to
worry about where Ranma was. He had been gone for far too long.



The house lights dimmed, and the announcer walked to the center of the
Arena. A video monitor high overhead brought the man’s face into clear
focus for all. As close as she was to the floor of the Arena, Nabiki
watched the man himself. He had the smarmy looks of a game show host, but
with even better hair. The man bowed to the crowd briefly and then stood up
with a smile.



“Good evening, gentlemen and ladies of the Empire! Tonight we have an
excellent show lined up for you, so sit back and enjoy the next several
hours of spine-tingling carnage! Prepare yourself to witness the acts of
masters of the arts of fighting! Our eager competitors come from the far
corners of the Empire! So give a cheer for our warriors for the evening!”
The man paused as the crowd erupted into cheers for their favorite fighters.



Young men and women dressed in colorful fighting costumes jogged out to
join the announcer in the center. Nabiki listened with interest to the
cheers from the crowd. Some of the fighters apparently had some large fan
sections. She noticed the spotlights flashing through the crowd. Each
fighter also briefly appeared on the monitors with their name below. Nabiki
happened to turn her head at the right moment to see a familiar face.



Shampoo, she mused as she looked at her face on the monitor. She turned to
scan the line of fighters and saw her near the center. She was two hundred
feet away from her, at most. She studied the other girl as the Amazon
watched the crowd with professional calm.



The Chinese girl was dressed in a short-sleeved shirt made from a durable,
light purple silk with two golden dragons embroidered boldly upon it in
opposing directions. It was just barely long enough to hang slightly below
her hips, and it fit snugly across her torso to show off her figure quite
nicely without hindering her movements at all. Her sash had been shredded
in her fight with Ryu Kumon, and she had not felt a need to replace it like
she had other damaged items. A skintight set of black silken pants was worn
beneath it, and a pair of soft leather boots in white, laced up the front
to mid-calf, completed the outfit.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma fidgeted in the small dressing room that he had been escorted to. He
could hear the sounds of activity out in the hallway as he waited for his
upcoming match. He had been provided clothing more appropriate for
appearing in the Arena than his school uniform, now wearing a sleeveless
Chinese-style tunic in white with red ties, black gi pants and rubber-soled
shoes. In addition, he wore leather armbands that covered the lower half of
his forearms.



His current predicament caused memories of Shampoo to float across his
mind. On one world, the Amazon had lost to one of his analogs from a single
strike to the head, her own weapon falling on her, an almost laughably easy
victory. On another, she had traveled back with him from China and been a
regular sparring partner, but a real fight between them had never occurred,
leaving it an uncertain outcome. And on yet a third, his analog had dueled
with her for almost an hour before he had finally beaten her.



After months spent in the Arena, undefeated by anyone, this version of
Shampoo was not going to be easy to deal with. Luckily, since one of his
other selves had sparred with her regularly, he had a fairly good knowledge
of the Joketsuzoku’s style of Kung Fu and where its weak spots were. It
wasn’t a tremendous advantage, but combined with the new improvements done
to his physique and recent mastery of the Amaguriken, he felt confident he
could overcome her. And if his new speed still wasn’t enough, the boost was
another advantage he had over Shampoo, something she would not be able to
match. But he would hold it in reserve to avoid burning himself out too
early on.



There was a knock at the door. “Thirty minutes until fight time.”



He acknowledged the voice, and the speaker went away. Ranma picked up the
copy of the contract he had been given at his request and read through it
one more time, looking for anything he might have missed on his previous
perusals. Luckily, his reading speed and ability to absorb such information
enabled him to get through the document quickly. He stood up and began
warming up, running through a kata to limber himself up, and the familiar
movements helping him to focus his mind.



If he defeated Shampoo, he won a significant tax-free cash prize but would
be engaged to her under Imperial law, an engagement contract that neither
of them could rescind. If he lost, then six months of his life would be
spent in here as a prisoner. He did have an option for a rematch, but the
penalty for losing that one would be to spend a year in here instead of six
months. There were also a few other options he had noticed, but the chances
of them occurring were practically nil so he didn’t even bother considering
them.



His only way out he could see, unless he wanted to fight for the next six
months of his life in the Arena, was for him to go straight through Shampoo
in one-on-one combat. There was no clever bypass out of this situation. He
would simply have to take her head on, stand toe-to-toe against her and
hope he had progressed enough in his abilities to defeat her. She was
undefeated, a strong martial artist in a place filled with powerful
fighter, but she was not invincible and she had never faced him before.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Shampoo fidgeted in her seat. The opening introductions were over, so she
had nothing to do except wait for her own match tonight. She was fighting
in only one tonight, what the promoters insisted on calling the Amazon
Challenge. All but one of her previous suitors had come from rather rich
families, so they had simply paid the penalty and left after losing. The
one that remained, Ryu Kumon, had accepted his fate with extremely poor
grace, at least in Shampoo’s opinion.



The Arena promoters always played up her village and its Amazon nature in
the programs to try luring more challengers to enter into battle with her.
Because of the Joketsuzoku’s surrender, by Imperial law any victor over her
was not automatically considered her husband but only engaged to her,
although neither of them could back out of it either. Also, as one of the
Joketsuzoku, she would also be given citizenship automatically by merely
marrying a full-blooded Japanese man, something women of other conquered
regions could not claim.



This was one of the few exceptions in the complex regulations regarding
marriage in the Empire, but it had only been invoked a handful of times in
the last century. All female citizens were forbidden by Imperial law to
have more than a single husband. On the other hand, male citizens were
allowed to have multiple wives. However, one would be considered First
Wife, the first one he wed, and she would be considered superior to all
other wives. Mistresses were also allowed, but few citizen women ever
became such. It was one of the last major holdovers of sexism that still
remained in the Empire.



“So, what do you think of this Ranma guy’s chances?” asked Running Deer
from where she was seated. She wasn’t fighting tonight, so she was just
there to give her friend a bit of moral support. She leaned on the low wall
that separated the fighting stage from the waiting area and eyed the large
crowd. Friday night’s attendance was always larger than was typical on
other weeknights.



The Apache girl’s eyes scanned the area where the Arena fighters sat,
looking for Ryu Kumon, wondering if he would be watching Shampoo’s match
tonight. He was there, but when she saw who he was seated next to, the new
girl, Shenhua, she frowned. She had heard from some of the other girls that
the Taiwanese girl was now part of Mina’s posse.



It figured, Running Deer mused sourly. In her opinion, the members forming
Mina’s clique were the most vicious, slutty-looking tramps fighting in the
Arena, so Shenhua would fit right in. She glared at the other girl, feeling
her emotions seethe as she saw her with her hand on Ryu’s thigh
possessively. Seeing the boy she liked sitting with the Taiwanese tramp
hurt deeply, especially after she had been doing her best to watch out for
him. She turned her gaze away from the horrible sight, feeling hatred for
Shenhua igniting within her. The other girl must have seduced Ryu to get
some cheap and tawdry thrills. Shenhua couldn’t possibly care about him as
much as she did.



“Shampoo not worried,” The Amazon replied with a smug tone, unaware of
Running Deer’s sudden emotional pain. She was mentally reviewing what she
would say to Ranma after she defeated him, and not really thinking about
the fight. “Shampoo is too, too much woman for Impie boys who challenge
Shampoo.”



“It’s certainly a big crowd tonight,” observed Running Deer as she peered
out past the high Plexiglas walls surrounding the center area, keeping her
gaze away from Ryu and Shenhua. “I guess your fan club is doing a good job
spreading the word.”



“Uh huh,” answered Shampoo absently. She had her eyes closed, almost
appearing to be asleep. “No worry about fight, Running Deer. Shampoo is no
expecting surprises tonight,” said the Amazon with a smile.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



At his position high above the Arena floor, the man known as Golgo fitted
his scope to his rifle. He set a small case holding flechette darts to one
side. They were specially made from a polymer that would dissolve in the
bloodstream almost instantly and deliver their payload of chemicals. He
checked his tools a second time and then settled into place. He used his
scope to check the range and nodded. This would be no problem.



He relaxed and waited.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The first fights were made up of the weaker fighters. It was designed as an
audience appetizer, and most of them were done fairly quickly. It left the
crowd hungry for more. Few of these fighters would ever be remembered, but
some might rise to the highest ranks, replacing the fading stars of other
fighters on the way down. Such was the way the Arena worked. It was a
glorious time for some, but it took a tremendous toll in lives destroyed to
feed the savage bloodlust of the masses.



As this was the top end of the pyramid for the many fighting venues spread
throughout the Empire, even the weakest here fought with great skill.
Weapons were not favored in the Arena anymore, so matches were always fine
displays of a multitude of barehanded fighting techniques. From her seat,
Nabiki watched a Vietnamese girl who couldn’t have been more than fifteen
years of age take down her larger male opponent with a solid roundhouse
kick across his face. The Tendo girl was really getting concerned about
where Ranma had vanished off to but wasn’t sure where to start looking.



The last of the preliminary bouts eventually ended. The last two fighters
left the Arena floor, one being carried off on a stretcher. The house
lights dimmed, except for a single spotlight that lit up the center area.
The announcer walked out to the middle of the light, and he raised his
microphone to his mouth. The crowd went a little quiet in anticipation.



Nabiki watched with a little more interest. I wonder what’s up? She started
to flip through the program, momentarily distracted from her concerns for
Ranma’s continuing absence.



“Gentlemen and ladies of the Empire!” called out the announcer to the
crowd. “Tonight we once again bring you a very special show, a test of
courage and skill to one lucky young man. Coming into the center of the
Arena now is Shampoo, one of our finest fighters, remaining undefeated to
this day.” A second spotlight followed Shampoo as she came out into the
center in a series of graceful flips and leaps. She gave one final jump and
then landed in the circle of light around the announcer with a graceful
stop.



“Who will be making the attempt to tame this beautiful girl?” Shampoo
smiled at the crowds and waved. “Tonight’s lucky young man, if he is the
winner of this match against this lovely girl, gets the very rare
opportunity of claiming her as his wife. As all of Shampoo’s many fans
across the globe know, any man who defeats a Joketsuzoku in fair combat
becomes her husband by the laws of her village.”



Nabiki felt her face twitch. She was having a sudden sinking feeling in her
stomach.



“What man could resist such an opportunity?” asked the announcer with a
large smile. “Shampoo certainly seems eager to meet tonight’s suitor.”  The
Amazon girl did a few flowing moves from her fighting repertoire. “For
those in our audience who may not be familiar with the Empire’s views on
the subject, Imperial law requires any victor over her to take her as his
fiancée and does not immediately proclaim it a marriage.”



Nabiki felt her face twitch again.



“The penalty for losing, on the other hand,” said the announcer in a
dramatically quieter voice, “is to spend six months in the Arena as one of
our fighters. So, based on those terms, who has the courage to go up
against this lovely girl tonight?” Shampoo smiled brightly into the camera.
Her beautiful face filled the monitors. “There he is!”



Deciding to put some flash into his entrance, Ranma came bounding into the
Arena in a series of flips and leaps, his path followed by another
spotlight. He ended in one last high leap which brought him down right next
to the announcer and Shampoo.



Seeing him, Nabiki felt her face twitch once more and a vein throb in her
forehead. Tonight was supposed to be their first real date! She was not
supposed to be sitting here watching him get engaged to yet another girl!



Ryu Kumon gazed down at Ranma. He was not impressed by the other boy’s
theatrical entrance. The Amazon would finish him off within a few minutes.
Her destiny was to be his someday, not anyone else’s.



“Tonight’s suitor has entered the ring in a truly dramatic fashion!” called
out the announcer. “He even looks to be rather confident on the outcome of
this match.” The crowd laughed a bit. The announcer paused as Ranma landed
in front of him. “Please tell us your name, and what style of martial arts
the audience will see tonight.” He held the small microphone up to the
pigtailed boy’s face as the cameras captured a close-up view for the
television audience.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Akane was lying on her bed, and she flipped through the channels to see if
anything interesting was on. Mecha show... pass. Evening news... boring.
Romance movie... nahh. Another anime show... ick... pervert stuff... pass.
She paused on the Arena’s channel to catch the beginning of the ‘Amazon
Challenge’ about to begin. Now this was more like it.



She tilted her head to one side, thinking there was something familiar
about Shampoo’s incoming challenger tonight, but the camera view was from
too far away to be sure. She whistled softly in appreciation as the boy
leaped into the Arena in such a brazen fashion. Now that looks like a real
man, she thought with a smile.



When the camera focused in on his face, her scream of horror could be heard
throughout the neighborhood.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Nodoka was watching the small portable television in the kitchen while she
cleaned up after dinner. She was watching the Arena’s channel since it was
the only interesting thing on during a Friday night, unless she wanted to
watch another episode of ‘Battlecruiser Macross’ tonight. She liked the
show, but the romance plotlines were getting a little thick even for her.
She had flipped on the Arena channel to have a little noise in the
background while she put things away.



She happened to glance over at the television screen in time to see her son
suddenly appear on camera. He was challenging to win the Chinese Amazon as
his bride. Nodoka paused to think about that, thoughts of grandchildren
suddenly filling her mind again. Her shout of joy could be heard throughout
the neighborhood.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Cologne watched the screen closely. She noted the rest of the council
studying her great-granddaughter’s newest suitor. “<He seems to carry
himself well, but it will take much more than attitude to win the day
against Shampoo,>“ she murmured after a moment of thought.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



“My name?” asked Ranma with less than his usual wit. He was feeling a
little intimidated by all of the cameras. “My name is Ranma Saotome, heir
to the Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts,” he said reflexively. He
looked at Shampoo and then he felt his nerves begin tingling. It startled
him, since the Amazon was not part of the Project. He was surprised to feel
such a strong level of attraction towards her, even more powerful than it
was with any of the other girls he knew. He felt his heart suddenly seem to
pound in his chest with nervousness at being near her.



Now that he was closer, Shampoo suddenly felt her body respond to the
presence of the pigtailed boy. It was like it had been with Ryu Kumon, only
even more profound. She had never felt such a strong level of desire for
any boy before, which perplexed her because Ranma had not defeated her. How
could she be so attracted to a boy that had not yet proven his strength to
her?



Nabiki growled deep in her throat at Ranma’s announcement. She was going to
pound him into the ground for his pronouncement of heirship when they got
home. Her gaze then shifted to Shampoo, not liking the appraising look the
Amazon suddenly had in her eyes when she got nearer to Ranma. It reminded
her unpleasantly of how Utena had regarded him whenever she saw them
together, and she wasn’t looking forward to a repeat of that sort of
experience.



“There you have it, Arena fans,” said the announcer as he turned to face
the cameras. “Ranma Saotome is the name of this brave, young citizen. He is
a challenger who represents the youth of this new generation, the future
strength of the Empire. He is willing to bet six months of his life on his
fighting abilities. We will now pause for a brief station identification
break. When we return, the Amazon Challenge will begin!”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Perfume stared at the television, aghast at what she was seeing. She and
Mousse were seated in a grungy restaurant finishing up their dinner. There
was a small number of Shampoo’s fans clustered over by the bar, cheering
for her whenever she appeared on screen.



She was too late. Shampoo was going to become a Joketsuzoku legend, and she
could only watch it happen.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Pausing as she drank a cold beer in celebration of her victory earlier that
day, Ginseng studied the face on the television screen before her. She knew
him! It was Sage! Fortune had smiled on her and given her his name on this
world, the name of Ranma Saotome. He was in Japan, in Tokyo, and she would
be with him soon. She took another drink of her beer and smiled.



Everything was coming together for her. Within weeks, possibly two to three
months at the outside, she would finally be reunited with Sage after over
two years of searching for him. That made her happy, and tears suddenly
appeared in her eyes.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Cologne blinked when she heard the name of the boy’s school of martial
arts. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t truly be the Anything-Goes School he
was using. Happosai was long dead, and none of his teachings were ever
passed on. She had seen him die with her own two eyes. She had seen the
firing squad execute him decades ago.



If it was the Anything-Goes School, then an impossible thing was about to
occur right before her eyes.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Shishio Makoto was still in the process of dressing as he gazed down in
interest at the young man facing off against Shampoo. The Anything-Goes
School? What an amusing name for a school of martial arts. He looked
forward to seeing what the boy could do. He was still troubled by what
Golgo might do to interfere, but there wasn’t time to hunt the man down and
demand an explanation.



Wait. He paused the playback on the screen and rewound it for another look
at the close-up of the boy. There was something oddly familiar about that
face. It took him a few moments to place it.



Kenshin Himura.



The boy reminded him of that man, a figure from the original Shishio
Makoto’s past. There was something about the eyes, the shape of the boy’s
face. How very interesting. He made a note to check Ranma’s family registry
later on.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Shampoo did some quick stretching exercises while she waited for the match
to begin. Ranma had gone off to the opposite side to limber up. She was
grateful for that as it allowed her a chance to regain her poise. Her
sudden and powerful attraction for the pigtailed boy was throwing her off
her game, and she had to gather herself back together.



Despite the bravado of his entry, she anticipated a victory over him. Her
skills had come far since leaving her village, and she knew she was all but
undefeatable now. Even so, she would have to be careful and not seriously
injure him when she put him down. She needed him to be able to talk soon
after the match, to find out what he knew about resonator technology. Even
so, she found herself excited at the idea of fighting with him, even though
she was certain she was going to grind him into the floor.



The announcer came halfway to the center of the fighting area. He had a
feeling that this match was going to be something special, no matter which
fighter won. He looked at both opponents. Both Ranma and Shampoo appeared
to be ready for the match. The boy had a serious look on his face, like a
man on a mission. The announcer looked up at the capacity crowd as the
camera light went on.



“Welcome back, home viewers, to what may prove to be the most exciting
fight for the week!” he called out. “In one moment, our two fighters will
meet in a battle of the sexes.” He paused as the crowd erupted into a roar
of excitement. “Who will emerge victorious in the Amazon Challenge? Let the
fight begin!”



The announcer trotted for the sidelines, and Shampoo surged forward. After
all of her many defeats of would-be suitors, she was feeling confident that
victory was already hers. A shame really, she mused. It would have been
wonderful if the analog of the boy Ensign Shan had known so intimately was
strong enough to defeat her. Her cheeks burned momentarily with a blush at
the memory of that experience.



Shampoo leaped into the air to get an aerial attack advantage for her
initial strike. Ranma smirked and leaped into the air to meet her. The
Chinese girl was so surprised at their mid-air meeting that he almost
managed to get the first hit right then. They hung in the air for a moment
as they exchanged a lightning quick series of strikes and blocks. They
plummeted back to the ground, still exchanging blows.



He’s better than I thought he’d be, mused Shampoo clinically during the
exchange. A lot better.



This isn’t going to be easy, thought Ranma with an inward grimace. He had
been right about the Amazon. She was much better than her analogs, her
techniques honed to a razor’s edge and her experience giving her the
ability to create new ones on the fly. She was a stronger foe than any of
his analogs had ever faced so far in their lives.



Neither of them had managed to hit the other yet. He sprang back and
blocked as Shampoo followed her landing with a flashy assault of spin kicks
and quick punches. He heard the announcer commenting on their movements as
if from a great distance, so focused on the fight he was.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Yumi was enjoying the fight a great deal, impressed with Ranma’s
demonstration of skill, oddly reminding her of her own battle many years
ago with Comb. She took a drink of her beer, her head tipped back for a
moment when she noticed something odd. There was a brief sparkle of light
up amidst the catwalks of the stadium. She picked up a pair of binoculars
she had been using to watch the fight and had just set down to take a drink.



She focused them on the spot where she saw the sparkle and saw a man with a
rifle watching the fight.



“I have to go take care of something, Jun-kun,” she said, standing up
suddenly. “I’ll be right back.”



Before her companion could reply, she was gone.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Akane sat and hugged her pillow. Her eyes held spellbound by the images on
the television. Ranma was fighting far better than he had against her weeks
ago, and she found herself wondering if she could even keep up with him
now, even after all her training with Sakura. How good a fighter was he?
Where had he been hiding all this ability?



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma took a hit to the shoulder, Shampoo getting the first strike in, and
he traded it for a kick to her thigh. He managed to block a rapid series of
punches that she threw and leaped back to get some breathing room. The
noises of the crowd were almost deafening as they roared their approval.
Shampoo kept the pressure up on him, and leaped at him with a high flying
kick. He ducked, and the Amazon landed behind him.



A powerful kick impacted hard into his lower back before he could turn
around to face her. He flew across the Arena and landed on his face just
short of the Plexiglas wall. His thoughts went fuzzy from the pain. He
needed a better strategy, he realized, even as he tried to regain his
senses. He rolled over and saw Shampoo leaping at him. Her stomping kick
might have ended it right there if he hadn’t rolled suddenly to the side.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Nabiki felt her heart unexpectedly leap up into her throat when Ranma was
knocked down. The program she held was steadily being shredded as she
twisted it in her hands. A growing anger was building inside her. That
Chinese bimbo is going to pay for every injury that she inflicts on
Ranma-kun tonight. She continued to watch the fight intently with
glittering eyes.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The Amazon backed up, blinking her eyes to clear them of tears. After Ranma
sprang back to his feet, she had traded a few more punches and kicks with
him again and then he had managed to hit her solidly. The blow to her face
could have broken her nose if she hadn’t managed to roll with it. She could
tell that she was going to have some colorful bruises for the next day or
two. She had given Ranma some good shots in exchange though.



Shampoo was actually enjoying herself. Ranma was a good fighter, much
better than she had expected. He gave back as well as he got. He was fast,
too. His blocks with his hands were especially quick. She dodged his next
kick and knocked him off his feet again, sweeping his legs this time. She
was starting to feel doubt as to the eventual victor in their fight, and
that was rare for her. It gave her hope that she might have found the man
worthy to be her husband. Her smile broadened more.



At that same moment, Ranma felt a small sting on the back of his neck.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Yumi cursed when she reached the catwalk Golgo was on. She was just in time
to see him pull the trigger. She leaped at the man.



Golgo sensed the ninja’s attack a moment too late. Her foot slammed into
his ribs, and he felt a couple of them crack before he could even respond.
He reacted with inhuman resilience and lashed out at her with a punch,
rocking Yumi back on her heels. In that moment, he drew his combat knife.
There could be no witnesses.



“You, I know you,” Yumi said suddenly, evading back from his slashing
knife. “Golgo Seven? Nine maybe?”



“I’m Golgo Twelve,” replied the man coldly. “You’re Yumi Kuonji. Keel
Lorentz sends his regards.” With that, he attacked with his blade.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Why is she smiling like that? Ranma wondered for a brief moment. Her fist
slammed into his chest during that moment of inattention, and he mentally
cursed himself for letting himself get distracted. Her leg whipped around
in a lightning-fast spin kick to land a devastating blow into his shoulder.
He felt his left arm suddenly go numb from the shoulder down. He forced
Shampoo to back off from pressing her advantage by leaping over her head.
His foot tagged her full-force when she turned to face him while he was
still in mid-air. She never even saw it coming.



Shampoo felt pain explode across her face. Ranma’s mid-air kick had caught
her solidly on one cheek. She rolled with the blow as best she could, but
she still felt a little staggered. She reached up to feel her cheek, and
her hand came away bloody. She caught a brief glimpse of herself in a
reflection off the Plexiglas, and saw a bleeding cut on her face to add to
the blood from her nose. Now I finish this, she thought grimly. This had
ceased to be amusing to her, and she blamed her attraction to him for her
letting things go this far. She could not lose to a boy, not before she got
to the Emperor’s Tournament and won her citizenship.



She was done playing around. Ranma was an excellent fighter and had taken
her closer to a loss than any male had in a very long time, even closer
than Ryu Kumon had managed, but he had not beaten her. She felt suddenly
frustrated at the thought that she was still alone, that she had no one in
her life to share it with. Thoughts of Mina mocking her people’s ways
seemed to fill her mind, arousing her anger. It was time to put her
would-be suitor down and finish this fight.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Watching from the bar she was in, Ginseng was quite astonished at what an
excellent fighter Ranma was. Sage had been more scholar than warrior in
that other life. Oh, he could fight, every Musk male could, but he was
nowhere near the ability that this analog was demonstrating before her eyes.



A surprising feeling seemed to blossom within her as she watched the fight
and marveled at Ranma’s skill and physical prowess. She suddenly found
herself looking at him, not as a long-lost sibling anymore, but as a woman
looked at a man she found highly desirable. It perplexed her a bit and
brought a sudden blush to her cheeks.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma felt sensation quickly returning to his left arm, and his shoulder
didn’t seem to be as injured as he feared. Shampoo was powerful and fast,
stronger and swifter than anyone he’d faced so far in his short career as a
fighter. He could understand now how she could remain undefeated this long.
This one wasn’t the same cute girl who followed one of his analogs back to
Japan. She wasn’t even like the one who was cursed to turn into a man. This
was a seasoned fighter who had battled her way up through many dangerous
foes and emerged victorious, who could match his own ability. His chance at
victory was slipping away unless he could manage to turn the tide in his
favor somehow. There was only one thing he could do now, and he set himself
for it as Shampoo came leaping at him, her gaze looking intense, her intent
clear to finish him off.



“KACHU TENSHIN AMAGURIKEN!”



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



There was a stunned silence from every member of the Council of Elders.



Cologne stared at the screen, aghast, watching in total disbelief as Ranma
unleashed a storm of blows with both fists into Shampoo’s body. It was
impossible. That was a high-level Joketsuzoku technique that only a handful
of Amazons currently knew.



How did the boy know that technique? Who had taught him?



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Perfume felt her mouth go dry with surprise. She knew of the technique that
Ranma had just unleashed, but she had not mastered it herself. She was
astonished at the sight of an outsider male using such a high-level Amazon
technique.



Mousse was currently lying unconscious next to the table. His ranting about
the Japanese boy had finally gotten too annoying. No one had chosen to
complain about her actions after she had embedded a few of the more
aggressive outsider men into walls and thrown a few more out through
windows.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Lao narrowed her gaze as she watched Ranma unleash his attack. “This one
suddenly interests me, Airen.”



“He is quite exceptional, isn’t he?” Shishio replied jovially, his eyes
glittering. “I didn’t think that the Joketsuzoku ever taught outsiders
their special techniques.”



“They don’t, not normally.” She smiled as she mused on what a wonderful
find the girl had made among the Japanese, almost as good a find as her own
husband. If she wasn’t already so much in love with Shishio, she would have
spirited the boy away that night. “As you well know, only extraordinary men
are offered such secrets.”



Shishio laughed, but his eyes glowed at the sudden possibilities opened up
to him. Yes, he would watch this boy. Perhaps he could be brought into
Shadowlaw’s fold, if the right incentive was offered.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ginseng watched the display of incredible speed and felt her heart seem to
flutter within her chest. Ranma was a magnificent warrior. She felt herself
blush again and took a deep drink of her beer, trying to figure out these
unexpected new feelings she was experiencing.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Up in the audience, Nabiki watched in amazement as Ranma unleashed a full
onslaught of blurring punches into Shampoo, surprised that he too had
mastered the Amaguriken. The Amazon seemed to hover in the air for several
moments, held up by the furious blizzard of blows. When it was over, the
Chinese girl flew backwards, flipping end over end.



Ranma and Nabiki were both surprised when Shampoo landed unsteadily on her
feet rather than immediately falling to the ground unconscious. As he stood
there, he felt weakness begin filling him, and his head felt woozy. Had
using the Amaguriken drained him somehow? It hadn’t felt like this in
training. The world was going hazy.



The announcer loved every minute of this fight. Both fighters were giving
their all, and the crowd could sense it. The cheers for both fighters could
be felt through the floor. “This is one of the best fights that this
announcer has ever had the pleasure to see!” he shouted into the
microphone. “Shampoo refuses to give up, despite Ranma’s best efforts to
knock her down. That last one had to hurt!” The battle of the sexes had
taken on a whole new meaning.



Shampoo was only standing now by sheer willpower, refusing to lie down and
let it end as she gazed at Ranma fiercely. Her ribs ached and the world was
hazy at the edges, but her pride and fury sustained her. He had used an
Amazon technique against her! Her nostrils flared as she sucked in air in
gasping breaths. She just needed a few moments to recover and then she
would attack. The world began going hazier.



“Finish her!” came a deep-voiced shout from the crowd.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Yumi struggled with Golgo, the blade of his knife barely an inch away from
her right eye as she felt her back bent over painfully hard against the
guardrail. She had forgotten how tough the man was in a fight. She drove
her knee hard into his gut again even as her arms strained against his,
pushing back with all her might to keep him from plunging the blade into
her skull. Blood seeped from some cuts on her arms and back and a deep stab
wound in her belly, and she could feel the growing blood loss from them
weakening her.



She had killed him at least twice in her career that she could be certain
of, but he always returned. Because Golgo was not truly a man, but an
unnatural creation of Keel Lorentz, a killing machine in human form.
Somehow, like with the cold-blooded Ayanami girl that Keel also employed,
that twisted madman had crafted his favored assassins to be able to be
reborn into new bodies identical to their last, complete with memories up
to the death of their last body.



“Now you die, you bitch,” Golgo growled, ignoring the pain from her knee
strikes and the other injuries she had inflicted upon him. He grinned
savagely as the blade moved inexorably closer to her eye. Their bodies
strained against each other.



“Not today... and not by you!” With a surge of desperate strength, Yumi
moved her head aside and twisted her grip on the blade before shoving it
downwards and back towards him with all her might. The knife sank low into
Golgo’s own guts, driven in all the way to the hilt by their combined
strength. Raw hatred for her could be seen almost glowing in his eyes.
Ignoring the blade stuck in his own intestines for the moment, he punched
her hard in the face, breaking her nose.



Ignoring the pain, Yumi managed to keep her grip on the knife with both
hands and ripped upwards a small distance before yanking it back out
accompanied by a gout of crimson fluid. Golgo staggered back in shock and
pain, trying to hold in his own intestines even as more blood leaked from
his body. She drove the blade back into him a second time all the way up to
the hilt, just under his sternum and angled upwards, aiming for his heart.
Blood burbled from his mouth as the already dead man fell back hard against
the railing, already loosened during their brutal struggle. It snapped free
when he hit it.



The last sight Yumi had of Golgo was the hatred his eyes still held for her
even as he fell backwards and off the catwalk into empty space.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma felt a few drops of blood suddenly splash his hand and cheek,
distracting him for a moment from Shampoo’s intense gaze. He glanced
upwards and saw a body plummeting down towards her from behind her. Without
thinking, his only desire to protect her from harm, he leaped forward with
all of his remaining strength and tackled the Amazon hard, knocking her
back out of the way a second before Golgo’s body landed head-first with a
sickening snap of bones on the very same spot where Shampoo had just been
standing. The force of his solid impact into her midsection rendered her
unconscious immediately. As their bodies came to a rest on the Arena floor,
the chemical cocktail in his system completed their task and he too
collapsed, his head falling to rest on her breasts.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Yumi stood at the railing and looked down at the scene below, seeing
Golgo’s body splayed on the floor of the Arena and Ranma lying on top of
Shampoo, the two teenagers unconscious. The blood oozing from her wounds
was thankfully slowing, but she had to get her injuries medical attention
very soon. There was a sudden, explosive displacement of air to her right,
and she was relieved to see Akemi Kasuga appear. Seeing Director Kasuga’s
daughter there, ready for anything, was a surprise. She was part of the
Emperor’s personal guard.



Akemi took the scene in instantly and relaxed her hold on the Power a
little, seeing an old friend who always had a knack for getting into
situations like this. “Yumi, I guess I should have expected to find you
here, even after you retired,” she said with a slight smile.



“Yeah, I guess I just can’t keep... myself... out of... trouble...” the
ninja replied in a growing slur and then her eyes rolled back up in her
head. She almost fell from the catwalk herself, finally passed out from
blood loss now that her adrenaline high was ending, but Akemi caught her
with the Power and held her suspended.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Cologne and the others stared at the television screen in shock. The Arena
attendants quickly began checking Ranma and Shampoo as the crowds began
murmuring, uncertain what to make of this development. Had the boy won or
lost? Who was the dead man?



She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the two youths both being
carried out on stretchers, still apparently alive. She felt extremely
grateful to the boy for his efforts saving Shampoo’s life. One or both of
them would have been killed if he’d hesitated a single moment longer before
acting. That act of bravery and the amazing fighting ability he had
demonstrated earlier had proven he was worthy of Shampoo in truly
spectacular fashion.



Comb kept her face neutral, but inside she was concerned for her daughter.
She noticed that Cologne was trying to speak to her again when she felt the
Matriarch’s staff tapping on her skull. “<Yes, Grandmother?>“



“<Pack your things for a trip,>“ ordered Cologne. “<We are leaving first
thing in the morning for Japan.>“ She turned around and quickly hopped out
of the Council chambers, her thoughts troubled. She left a puzzled
murmuring behind her.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Akane stared at the screen in shock as the scene shifted away from the
sight of Ranma and Shampoo being carried from the Arena on stretchers to a
pair of commentators. She wasn’t sure what to think. Shampoo was her idol,
the girl she most wanted to be like, and Ranma was the boy she loved.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Nabiki was shocked by what had just happened. Ranma had just saved
Shampoo’s life. That was clear. But what happened now? Had he defeated the
Amazon? Both of them were unconscious. Her memories of Amazon law from her
other self were unclear on this.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ryu Kumon felt anger swell within him at the scene before his eyes. Ranma
had accomplished what he had not. He had beaten the Amazon in single
combat, an act witnessed by millions of people around the globe, robbing
him of his destiny as her husband and the fame defeating her would have
brought him. His fist tightened with his sudden, white-hot rage, his nails
digging into his palm.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ginseng felt relief that Ranma did not appear to be seriously injured by
his heroics. The match between him and Shampoo had been quite exciting to
watch. The commentators were debating if he had won or lost his match with
Shampoo. What was the result of a mutual knockout when it involved a
Joketsuzoku? Was it a loss for her or a victory?



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Perfume ruminated on what she had just seen. When Mousse began to stir back
to consciousness, she slammed her fist down on his skull and sent him back
to sleep. From her knowledge of the Joketsuzoku’s laws, things were in a
gray area now, even further complicated by how Imperial law might affect
things.



She might still have a chance to steal this suddenly very interesting boy
from Shampoo, but she would have to move quickly. A wicked smile lit her
face.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



The Arena Director watched the medics that were taking Ranma and Shampoo to
the infirmary through one of the many security cameras. It automatically
flipped views to the next camera as he watched. His face was troubled.



Golgo had waited too long to dose the boy, but there was still a way to
turn this in his favor. Millions of people had all seen the boy’s great
heroism in saving Shampoo’s life. Having a full-grown man like the assassin
fall on your head from that height was a lethal proposition, even for a
top-level fighter like her. There was also the incredible fighting
expertise Ranma had demonstrated to consider. The boy had likely just made
himself a hero to many people across the Empire.



There was a sudden commotion in the hallway and then Ana flew through the
oak double doors, shattering them open. As the Puma groaned in pain on the
floor, the Director felt his mouth go dry when the distinctive figure of
Cardinal Synn strode commandingly into the room. Several solid strikes with
a bare fist could be heard in the other room for a few moments, ending with
Uni’s moans of pain after she too came flying in to land in a heap. A woman
wearing the garb of a nun entered his office like a grim specter of death
itself, her robes spattered with blood, her hood concealing her face.



“I-I can explain,” the Director began, knowing who it was behind that mask.
He stopped speaking when the other man raised a hand sharply. The nun stood
silently, but he could sense her unfriendly gaze upon him. He was
reasonably sure he knew who she was under her concealing garb. The pair
before him was arguably the most lethal duo in the Empire, maybe even the
world.



“I do not wish to hear explanations for your stupidity in this matter,”
said Shishio, his voice modulated by the mask into a deeper, even more
chilling timbre than his normal tones. “Nor do I care for your reasons in
attempting to cheat the boy of his rightful victory against the
Joketsuzoku.” He glanced back briefly at his wife before returning his gaze
to the other man. “The courtship of a woman of the Joketsuzoku is a pure
thing, a holy rite that separates the strong from the weak. To be able to
claim a woman of that tribe as a bride is a rare privilege and honor for a
man, and I am personally offended at what you have done to this boy to
sully his victory over the girl.”



The Director felt his bladder begin to empty into his clothes. He swallowed
in terror, certain he was about to die. The woman had not moved, but he
could sense waves of anger coming from her. “P-personally o-offended?” he
said weakly.



“The Emperor is not pleased either.”



“Th-the Emperor?” His voice had become a squeak. He realized absently that
the Emperor had been in attendance at the Arena that night, but he had not
made the connection with Shampoo. “H-He’s a f-fan?”



“Indeed,” said Shishio coldly. “He saw her fighting in Hong Kong and became
intrigued when he learned more of her people. He has been hoping for a
night like tonight. He had plans.” There was a pause. “And you almost
destroyed them.”



“P-plans?” A puddle or urine now spread out from his feet, his trousers and
footwear soaked.



Shishio growled at the man’s obvious cowardice, a sharp contrast to the
courage the Saotome boy had displayed earlier on the Arena floor. One had
earned his disdain, and the other had achieved the rare honor of earning a
small measure of his respect. He advanced on the Director grimly and
grabbed him by the throat with one hand. He lifted him clear of the ground,
holding him aloft without any apparent strain.



The Director gasped and choked, his hands clutching at Shishio’s wrist.
Shishio began speaking in cold, menacing tones.



“The Emperor wishes to tie the Joketsuzoku more closely to the fortunes of
the Empire, you pathetic, spineless, witless fool. Now that a loyal subject
of the Empire like Ranma Saotome has finally emerged from the masses with
the ability to win the hand of one like Shampoo, I have been instructed to
make an offer to them. If the girl continues to fight in the Arena and
emerges victorious in the upcoming Emperor’s Tournament, in addition to her
being made a full Citizen of the Empire, every woman and girl child of the
Joketsuzoku tribe shall be made full Citizens as well. They would have all
of the freedoms, rights and responsibilities that such rank entailed them,
responsibilities such as fighting on behalf of the Empire if asked. It is
that plan that you almost ruined.”



With evident disgust, Shishio let the Director fall to the carpet to land
in the puddle of his own urine. He stalked back over to his wife, who
continued to radiate silent menace. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder
for a moment, feeling the tension within her. “Do not kill or permanently
cripple him, my love. Despite his many, many flaws, he is still useful for
now.” There was a pause as he regarded her. “Other than that, you may...
indulge yourself. Meet me at the car when you are done with him. I
shouldn’t be too long.”



“I’ll try to restrain myself, Airen.” Lao slammed one foot into Ana’s jaw
with bone-crushing force, sending the Puma into unconsciousness. She leaped
into the air and came down on Uni’s back, blasting the air from the other
Puma’s lungs and knocking her out as well. Her tone then turned more
sensuous. “However, I expect to be rewarded later on. Don’t make plans for
the rest of the weekend.”



He nodded and departed. Lao turned her attention to the cowering man on the
floor, a predatory smile appearing on her face. She began stalking towards
him as she became the Tigress once more.



Shishio heard the sounds of brutality and screams of pain gradually fade
behind him as he strode down the hallway, smiling behind his mask.



Oh, how he loved that woman.



xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



Ranma returned to consciousness slowly, his head groggy from the drugs
given him to counteract the concoction Golgo had dosed him with and the
painkillers in his system. He opened his eyes to see Yumi and Master Lee
seated there in the infirmary room he was in. Yumi, her nose now reset and
bandaged, grinned at him.



“Welcome back, champ,” she said. “You have a visitor waiting to see you.”
She stood gingerly and urged Master Lee ahead of her as they headed towards
the door. “Move, Jun-kun. Let’s give the boy a little privacy.”



“A visitor?” He turned his head to see Shampoo standing there in the
doorway, gazing at him. She was bandaged up and one of her eyes was
blackened. She did not move forward until Yumi gently nudged her.
“Shampoo,” Ranma said softly, not sure why she was there. He glanced down
at his hands, an IV stuck on the back of one of them. He didn’t remember
anything after leaping at her. “I guess I lost, huh.”



“No,” the Amazon said gently, a smile appearing on her face. She walked
towards him slowly, one of her legs still feeling stiff and sore from the
injuries he had inflicted upon her. She wasn’t in any better shape than he
was, but she had forced herself out of bed for this. “Ranma not lose.” She
stopped next to his bed, somehow now understanding what it was she had been
seeking all her life in a man but not knowing how to describe it. She still
had no words for it, but she knew it now.



“But I lost consciousness,” he protested. He felt her presence like an
almost tangible thing, and he felt better just having her near him.



“Shampoo knocked out when Ranma tackled Shampoo and saved life,” she
replied as she contemplated him gently. He looked very cute to her, seeing
his battered face take on a puzzled expression. After a moment watching
him, she realized it was time to end his confusion. She placed her hands on
each side of his face and gazed deeply into his eyes, feeling love for him
swelling within her. There was a silent pause.



“Wo ai ni.”



Their lips touched, and Ranma felt an almost electric charge go through him
at the contact, the tingling feelings of desire within him becoming even
more profound. Shampoo felt it too, and tears of joy rolled down her cheeks
when she felt his arms go around her and pull her closer, their kiss
deepening. It went on for a while and then Shampoo pulled back, smiling at
him again.



“Hello, Son-In-Law,” suddenly said a voice from the door, startling him.



“Gah! Old Ghoul!” Ranma shouted reflexively, looking over and seeing
Cologne standing there in the doorway, her ancient visage frowning at his
unexpectedly rude greeting. Running Deer was there as well, beaming with
happiness at seeing her friend finally find a guy for herself.



“What Great-Grandmother doing here?” Shampoo asked, puzzled.



“That would be my doing,” said Director Kasuga from the doorway as he and
the others came into the room. Yumi and Master Lee came in as well. “I
brought her here to Japan at the personal request of the Emperor.”



“The Emperor?” Ranma’s eyes went wide with surprise. He noticed the symbol
of the Mobius Institute pinned to the man’s suit.



“Yes, the Emperor himself witnessed the match, Son-In-Law,” said Cologne,
studying him. She faced Shampoo. “I’ll excuse his rudeness this time, but
see to it that he learns proper manners when addressing me in the future,
Great-Granddaughter.”



“Yes, Great-Grandmother!” She beamed with happiness.



Cologne nodded. “Very well. Having witnessed the match myself, his
performance was extremely impressive, so the matter of his losing
consciousness as well can be overlooked. Shampoo lost consciousness first.”
She gave a brief stare at Ranma. “It was quite surprising that you knew a
Joketsuzoku technique, Son-In-Law.”



The pigtailed boy met her gaze briefly, uncertain what to say.



“But we will discuss that matter at another time,” Cologne continued. Right
now, I am to relay a message to you two from the Emperor.”



“A message from the Emperor?” Ranma looked astonished again.



“You two will face each other in the Arena again, one week from today,”
Cologne said neutrally. “Should Shampoo defeat you, she will be allowed to
rescind the Kiss of Marriage, if she chooses to, and you can be on your way
without any penalty, boy. But, until that day comes, you will remain here
in the Arena and prepare yourself for one final match against my
Great-Granddaughter.” She then turned her gaze to Shampoo. “If he remains
engaged to you at the end, then as your fiancé he will have the right to
take you from this place, Great-Granddaughter. Your path as an Arena
fighter will come to an end.”



“But what about Emperor’s Tournament?” Shampoo protested. “What about
becoming a Citizen?”



“Ah, here is where the Emperor’s offer gets interesting.” Cologne smiled.
“If, after Ranma proves that tonight was not some kind of a fluke, he then
allows you to keep fighting in the Arena, your victory at the Emperor’s
Tournament will win the honor of being a Citizen for every woman and female
child of the tribe, not just for yourself.”



Yumi whistled softly, and Running Deer looked impressed. The others in the
room had varying expressions of amazement. Even Director Kasuga looked
surprised, and it took a lot to surprise him.



Shampoo’s eyes almost glowed. Her path had been long and hard to this
point, even more difficult than she could have ever imagined when she first
left the village. To have such a reward as this at the end of it would make
all of the hardships and trials she had endured even more worthwhile. She
gently reached out and took Ranma’s hand, gripping it warmly in hers,
feeling him holding hers back. With this man at her side, she somehow knew
she could accomplish anything she desired and overcome any obstacle that
lay before her.



“If you can somehow achieve this thing, you would become immortalized,
Great-Granddaughter,” said Cologne with a proud smile. “Your name would be
remembered among the greatest legends of our people and would never be
forgotten. Now, as the Emperor’s Tournament is still a few months away, we
have time to train you to get ready for it. A great deal rides on you now,
more than merely you becoming a citizen.” Her gaze shifted to Ranma. “And
if this one can keep a civil tongue in his head while he explains to me how
he knows a Joketsuzoku technique, I might show him some additional
techniques as well.”



“Ranma-kun,” suddenly said a voice from the door.



Everyone turned to look and saw Nabiki standing there. Shampoo and Running
Deer recognized the Tendo girl from their night out on the town in the
Nerima area. The Amazon and Nabiki began glaring at each other when Nabiki
came closer to Ranma’s bedside, tension saturating the air between them
like heat lightning.



“Why short-haired girl here?” Shampoo demanded, putting herself in the
other girl’s way. “This no concern of hers.”



“Ranma is my fiancé,” Nabiki stated flatly, her gaze locked fiercely with
Shampoo’s. “He’s mine.” Standing near Shampoo was like being near Utena or
Ukyo, giving her urges to drive away a threat to her property. This girl
was not the cute Amazon of her inherited memories but a much more hardened
fighter and would be a very serious threat to her own interests in the
Saotome boy. She already had enough competition around to deal with. She
did not back down in the face of Shampoo’s glare at her, meeting it fully
with her own gaze as she said firmly, “You can’t have him.”



Shampoo glared back menacingly and growled out, “Ranma is Shampoo’s Airen.”
Not since she was last around Perfume had she felt such dislike for another
girl on an instinctual level. Not even Mina annoyed her this much just by
her mere presence. Nabiki’s rudeness only intensified her feelings of
antipathy.



Yumi gave Ranma a sympathetic look and then clapped her hands down on both
girls’ shoulders, causing Shampoo to wince a bit. “Let’s take this outside
and let Ranma rest, ladies.” Even injured, her tone brooked no resistance.



As he watched everyone leave his room, he saw both Nabiki and Shampoo give
him lingering looks before departing. Shampoo’s regard was more openly
loving and Nabiki’s was more unreadable. Just before they were out of his
sight, they turned far more lethal gazes on each other.



Ranma sighed and closed his eyes as he heard the two begin arguing as soon
as they were out of the room.





xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx



To be continued next chapter...
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