Note: The following fanfic is a retelling of Tenchi Muyo in 
Love from the POV of the Galaxy Police Operative code-named: A.

Note 2: "Furry", for those of you unsure or unfamiliar with
the term, refers to an anthropormorphic lifeform. Furries 
in TM! include Operative A (TMiL), The GP Commander (TMiL, TV 
series, OAV series), Ryo-Ohki in her humanoid form (OAV series) 
and Yuzuha (DoD). 

Furry Muyo! The Kain Incident

-PROLOGUE-

As he fed the data regarding his latest arrest into the GP 
Central Computer, Operative A heard a sound like he'd never
heard before. 

As a member of an anthropomorphic species, he was gifted with
what some of the others on the force mistook as a kind of ESP. It
wasn't anything supernatural, just a sharply honed set of
instincts that had built up in his race over the natural course
of their evolution.

For several minutes, these senses had been alerting him that
danger was very near. He had ignored them, however. Having just
been through a particularly nasty experience with a rather
dangerous criminal, he had chalked it all up to post-assignment
paranoia.

But that noise told him he'd been wrong, that he should have
listened to his instincts. He didn't know what it was, just that
it shouldn't have been happening. 

Then all hell broke loose...

...literally.

Well, perhaps not all of it, and perhaps not hell. But 
considering what did break loose, perhaps all hell would've been
preferable.

Operative A hadn't known what the previous sound had been since
he had never heard it before. But he did know that sound of a
massive explosion, which is precisely what he heard before the
chaos erupted around him. One of the subspace prisons had been...

The thought was barely finished in his mind when he quickly
switched the computer he was at to the system analysis/back-up
screen and tried to avert a disaster.

He keyed in his password, a slightly embarrassing (given his
species) little passage from an Earth book called "Alice In
Wonderland".  He had just typed in the final "t" when the room
was filled with random surges of what could best be described as
sideways lightning. 

He saw a shock wave, like that of a nuclear explosion. Or 
rather, he saw its effects. As it expanded, those who had been
standing in its path simply winked out of existence.

Rage built up in him as he witness the decimation of the Galaxy
Police. His comrades, co-workers, their families. even their
pets... all of them suddenly gone. The rage built until he could
no longer contain it. And as he was violently yanked into a
hellish abyss, it burst from him in a sudden startled scream.


-CHAPTER ONE-


They say that the fall isn't nearly as bad as the landing. That
saying is quite true. Operative A had first-hand knowledge of
that fact. He heard a sickening crunch as his shoulder came into
violent contact with the corner of a building, but only had a
millisecond to reflect on the pain as his head struck the side of
the building, knocking him unconscious.

When he came to, kami-sama only knew how much later, he was in a
small room. He had no idea where he was exactly, but the
overwhelming sterility of the room and the pungent ammonia odor
suggested that it was either a hospital or a lab.

At first he thought a rescue team had been sent for him and that
he was back at Headquarters. 

But no, he realized. No one was sending any rescue team. They
couldn't because they were all dead. Then where was he? How had
he... 

He was stopped in mid-thought by the sound of approaching 
footsteps. He thought of questioning whoever it was that was
approaching, but decided against it. Whoever it had been, had
apparently gone out of his way to isolate him and that was
usually not a good sign.

He closed his eyes as the door swung, slowly, open. He heard the
footsteps again, more clearly now. At least more clearly in his
left ear. To his right ear, they were still terribly fuzzy. He
ran a quick diagnostic of his implants. All of them seemed to be
in working order. That meant that the ear itself had been
damaged. Probably when he'd hit his head. Or perhaps his 'hosts'
had damaged it somehow? He tried to compensate for the damage by
boosting implant in that ear.The improvement was minimal,
however, and since enhancing one implant couldn't be done without
decreasing the energy relegated to his other implants, he reset
it back to its original setting. 

The voices that went with the footsteps were both male. Most of
their discussion had to do with speculations about his origins
and some paranoid discourse about whether he was an advanced
scout for an alien invasion fleet. 

The conversation quickly turned into a discussion about 
dissection. It was an idea that Operative A did *not* find very
appealing. He hoped they would break for lunch before beginning.
But no such luck. 

Fortunately, not all of the needed tools were there. One of the
two men left the room to retrieve the items that were missing. As
soon as one was out the door, he dropped his pretense at
unconsciousness. He sprang up from the examining table he'd been
lying on, leaping instantly into a flying sidekick that knocked
the remaining man to the ground. His ear twitched as he heard the
other man's footsteps. Quickly, positioned himself near the door
so that it would hide him when it opened.

The other man walked in and saw his partner lying on the floor.
As he rushed over to check on his condition, Operative A emerged
from behind the door, made sure he wasn't looking, and quickly
bolted out the room, closing the door behind him and sealing it
behind him.

As he ran, a voice on the building's intercom alerted anyone else
who was  there that their 'guest' had escaped and was probably
running for the exits. It also added that given the structure of
the exits, it was very unlikely he would escape. It added,
however, it would be best if he were recaptured as soon as
possible since he was a dangerous alien.

Operative A had been unconscious when they'd brought him in and
he had no idea where the exit was. After a number of wrong turns
and dead ends, he came to the end of a corridor. He raised his
cybernetic arm and fired a series of blasts at the wall in a
circular pattern. Then he backed up several feet and ran toward
it, diving toward it with his cybernetic arm outstretched,
putting all his weight, speed, and energy behind it. He felt a
jarring pain in his injured shoulder. There was an enormous
cracking sound and then he was falling through the air.

He realized, instantly, that he had completely forgot to check
which floor he was on. As he fell, he pulled a small fluffy
pompom from his sleeve and scrunched it in his hand. It instantly
turned into a small neon pink cube. Down he plummetted. He
twisted the cube, and a small grappling hook fell out the bottom.
He twisted his plummetting body so that he was now plummetting
headfirst rather than backfirst, and prayed he wasn't being
terribly stupid.  In seconds, he caught up with the falling
grappling hook. He tied the rope around his waist and fired the
hook into the runner of a company helicopter. With a simple
flicker of his IC system, he activated the grappling hook's
retractor and allowed it to carry him up to the helicopter.

Standing on the runner and ducking low to avoid being 
decapitated, he punched through the glass with his cybernetic arm
and boarded the helicopter.  The pilot turned, a stunned look
coming over his face. The pilot reached for a gun he kept in a
holster near his seat, but before the man could fire, Operative A
fired a blast of his own and the pilot slumped out of his seat.

Operative A quickly scrambled into the recently vacated seat and
fought to bring the helicopter, back into control.It took several
minutes, but he finally succeeded. he sped off toward the
mountains. As he arrived, he strapped on a parachute, let the
helicopter pass the mountains, then turned and headed back. He
placed the dead pilot in the pilot's chair, tied the controls in
position, then jumped.

The 'chute opened flawlessly and he drifted down into the 
mountains. Seconds after landing, he heard the nearby explosion
as the helicopter crashed.

-CHAPTER TWO-

Operative A took a deep breath as he balanced on one foot, his
other leg bent in half at the knee. He slowly extended both arms
to either side of him, palms outward, timing the extension to
perfectly coincide with a slow exhale. After a moment of perfect
stillness, he drew his hands together, this time accompanying the
movement with a slow inhale...

All this took about two minutes. By the end of the third minute,
he was on the ground. He cursed, irritably to himself, and
praying to whatever gods existed that his knee wasn't broken.
Normally his balance was near-perfect. But the damage to his ear
had thrown off his equilibrium. He sighed and gave up on the
whole idea. It was foolish anyhow. He was on an alien planet,
alone and unprepared, with billions of people who were not of the
same species as he.

That last part didn't concern him too much. There wasn't another
Draalthi in the entire universe. The race had not been a
spacefaring one. Living in underground cities, on a sunless
world, they hadn't even been aware of the universe. They were a
fairly simple people. At least, that's what the artifacts he'd
been given when he'd been old enough to understand and accept the
truth suggested.

The darkness of their homeworld had made their eyes naturally
sensitive to light, and his had been no different. Even the
cybernetic enhancements, while offering some relief, hadn't
entirely succeeded in reducing this sensitivity.

He scanned the mountains and took notes of the vegetation and 
wildlife. His mind scanned the databanks in his IC system, The 
primary function of the IC was to coordinate the signals sent 
out by his brain with the responses programmed into his 
cybernetic implants. Its function as a data storage computer was 
secondary, and so only a bare minimum of information on any 
subject was filed there. Most of it was little memory joggers, a 
word here, a sentence there. He preferred to keep most of the 
important information in his own mind, where it was less likely 
to be retrieved by an enemy. As a Special Operative with an 
Intergalactic License To Kill, he had a lot of enemies. Mostly 
relatives, friends, or lovers of the criminals whose lives had 
ended with a flick of his palm. In fact...

The soft whisper of the IC informing him that, based on its
findings, he was on Earth in the year 1970, brought his mind
back to the present. He scolded himself for permitting himself,
even for a second, to be distracted during a mission. He would
not do that again.

He had to wait until dark to go into the city and put together 
some kind of disguise. While he waited, he ate a small portion 
of his emergency rations and said a silent prayer for the Galaxy 
Police who had died during Kain's escape, promising that he 
would see to it their deaths did not go unavenged.

It was a promise he was destined to break.

-CHAPTER THREE-

Operative A pulled an air mattress and a blanket out of his
hypercube and set them up on the ground. He'd be able to focus 
on his mission better once he was rested. He had a tent, too, 
but he wanted to see the stars tonight. One star in particular. 
He knew that in this time, the Galaxy Police were still out 
there. Seeing the star that was, in truth, the many lights of 
Galaxy Police Headquarters gave him a small measure of comfort. 
He also felt a sense of hope. Once Kain was vanquished, he could 
contact them and warn them. But Kain had to be destroyed first. 
He couldn't risk having them walk right into a trap with him set 
up as the bait. He'd never forgive himself if that happened.
He got into the makeshift bed, closed his eyes, and soon drifted 
off to sleep.


Hours later, the soothing darkness nudged his now well-rested
body into wakefulness. At first, before he opened his eyes, he
thought he was back at headquarters. That the whole sequence of
events had just been a horrible nightmare. But then a nightbird
hooted in a nearby tree, shattering the illusion. He opened
his eyes and sat up. A few hours rest had done his thought
processes a world of good. He threw on a hooded cloak over the
uniform he was already wearing and headed in the direction he
hoped would lead to town.

An hour later, he arrived at a newspaper vendor. This was 
perfect, he realized. The paper would let him know the date, 
and his location.

He picked one up, read the date, and dropped it as if it were 
poisonous. No, it couldn't me... His rational mind tried to deny 
it.  But there it was, in black and white:

Nov 16, 1970

His heart shattered as he realized that he would never be able 
to avenge his fallen compatriots. After all, he asked himself, 
how likely is it Kain would ever show up here?  

His IC, mistaking this last thought as an inquiry, cheerfully 
informed him the likelihood was at least ninety percent.

He was about to tell it to shut up, when he realized what it
had said. He felt a surge of strong emotion; a mixture of rage
and exhilaration. He would be able to face Kain and make him pay
for the murders of the Galaxy Police. A sense of purpose flowed
anew in his veins and exploded from his mouth in a fierce
war-cry that broke the stillness of the night as he ran, far 
too pumped up for something as relatively dull as teleporting, 
back to the campsite. He didn't even care if anyone spotted him 
at that point. He was too worked up to care. All that mattered 
at that moment was that the chance at vendetta he thought had 
been denied him, had practically been placed at his doorstep. It 
was a sign. It had to be. He would be the one to wreak vengeance 
upon Kain. Their souls had guided him here, so he could do what 
was needed for them to rest.

His heart raced as he started on his evening rations. As he 
began to eat, he spotted a small rabbit in the bushes not far 
from where he was. He looked at the rabbit, then at his rations, 
then at the rabbit again. Surely a fresh cooked meal would 
provide more nourishment than food-in-a-tube. 

The rabbit's nose twitched as he watched it. Its ears stood up 
and turned toward him, detecting his movements. He slowly raised 
his cybernetic arm and, once his hand was properly positioned, 
fired a single blast at the rabbit. It missed the rabbit by the 
merest fraction of an inch, causing the poor thing to bolt. His 
head injury must have damaged his optical implants as well, he 
reasoned. Oh well, so much for a fresh meal that night.

After a rather horrid meal of military rations, which are 
designed with nutrition rather than taste and provide neither, 
he leaned back against a tree and sighed. He felt a slight itch 
behind his left ear and scratched it for a moment. A thought 
popped quickly into his mind and he pushed it back out just as 
quickly. It was far too ridiculous to contemplate. 
Unfortunately, as so happens with all ideas of that nature, it 
popped right back in again.