-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: TSG-17.txt
Kyushu Plateau
The Moon of Oni, orbiting Shounetsu Jigoku
Capella System, the Nerima Confederation
14 April 3025
The soft hum of air stirred by ventilation fans set above and behind
the mechwarrior's ejector seat mingled with the tinny whine of an array of
gas-plasma displays, as did the muted roar of several hundred kilograms of
liquid nitrogen rushing through the flashing chambers of the battlemech's
heat sinks. To this chorus of sound was added panting breaths of nervous
tension, echoing in steady, measured counterpoint to the myriad noises of
the machines. Kasumi Tendo sat anxiously within her mighty Atlas, waiting
for the moment to attack the Furinkan Combine reinforced regiment that
threatened her tenuous hold on the moon of Oni.
The star Capella lay far over the horizon, shrouding the furrowed,
glassy lava plain that was the Kyushu Plateau in near darkness. The only
visible light came from the reflected glory of Shounetsu Jigoku, the harsh
hell-world that held Oni in its gravitational thrall. The soft pink and
cream bands of cloud were beautiful and deadly, for they were filled with
corrosive compounds, and trapped the intense heat of the world's rampant
vulcanism. There were installations there - owned by the Ceres Metals
Corporation - for the exploitation of Shounetsu Jigoku's vast strategic
mineral resources. Though they could provide refuge for her rag-tag army
in the event that evacuation back to Nerima proved impossible, she did
not look forward to going there.
She knew that the harsh environment of Shounetsu Jigoku would wreak
havoc on sensitive and even irreplaceable battlemech components, forcing
her army to stay within the shielded domes and deep caverns of the mines.
It was true that the Combine would not come after her there, but they
wouldn't have to. The planet depended on shipments of food and other
supplies from Nerima to continue operations. All Prince Kuno needed to
do was take Oni, use it as a base to intercept the resupply ships, and
then starve the planet into submission.
A winking of light in the darkness caught her eye. It was a signal
lamp, flashing from the cockpit of one of the 1st Nerima Guards battlemechs.
The regiment was observing radio silence for the sneak attack on the freshly
constructed Combine base, and so all pre-strike messages were sent via lamp.
The method was awkward and slow, but it was secure against electronic forms
of eavesdropping.
"ALL-UNITS-IN-POSITION," her compatriot declared.
She nodded absently in reply, a gesture that the man in the distant
Ostscout was unable to see. It was time for the attack, and that had to
commence with as much precision as possible.
Kasumi unlocked a small armored cabinet on the left side of her
cockpit and undogged the door. Within the cabinet lay a dozen metal
cylinders, each festooned with arming pins and red paper tags. Taking
care to select the correct device, she withdrew it, secured the cabinet,
and then began pulling the arming pins.
When she had prepared the device, she inserted it into the breech
door of a metal tube set in the overhead of the Atlas' cockpit, then
locked down the breech. The tube was a signal ejector, and the device
a 7cm Pyrotechnic. Kasumi took a deep breath, then stabbed at the 'launch'
button next to the ejector.
A red starshell fired from the Atlas' head, just above the 'mech's
right 'eye.' The pyrotechnic device sailed across the starry black sky,
trailing lazy crimson sparks as it flew. On this signal, the 'mechs of
the 1st Nerima Guards charged to the attack. Father had promised her aid
to keep the pressure off of Oni, but so far, nothing of the sort had
materialized. She could not see the tiny black shapes moving through the
void millions of kilometers above the cold dead moon, their armored hulls
causing the stars to wink out briefly as they passed.
___________________________________________________________________________
J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:
BATTLETECH: THE SAOTOME GAMBIT
PART SEVENTEEN
by J. Austin Wilde
Safety Control Rod Axe Man,
Fission Park Press
wildeman@psn.net
http://www.psn.net/~wildeman/
The characters and situations of Ranma 1/2 are the
creation and property of Rumiko Takahashi and
Shogakukan/KITTY/Viz Video. Battletech and its
related materials are the property of FASA, inc.
No infringement of copyright is intended nor
should be inferred by this work of fanfiction.
___________________________________________________________________________
Chapter One
Somewhere within five million kilometers of
Shounetsu Jigoku, the Capella System
Nerima Confederation
14 April 3025
The ships of the 777th Strike Squadron drifted through the void,
their drives quiescent, their passive sensors straining for any sign of
their foes. They were an ancient unit, their Balao Class Corvettes dating
back to the Star League. They had been known as the 'Triple-Sevens' in
those early days, before they rejected Kerensky's Exodus and joined the
House of Tendo. By the time of the Third Succession War, they had become
known by another moniker, one fitting of their deadly reputation.
The Terrible T's.
There were six ships remaining in the squadron; _Tang,_ _Tautog,_
_Trepang,_ _Tarpin,_ _Tunny,_ and _Thresher._ After the devastation of
the First Succession War, these six ships had their Jump Cores removed to
keep them in service as combatant vessels. Though some considered them to
be little better than GunShips at that point - converted DropShips that
needed to be carried into a battlezone by a noncombatant JumpShip - the
Tendos knew otherwise. These were no mere GunShips, but BattleRiders,
proud ships of the line.
These modified Balao Class warships carried weapons far more powerful
than any simple GunShip; weapons designed to attack and destroy the capital
ships of Stephan Amaris the Usurper during the Reunification War. In
particular, they carried the Barracuda antiship missile, a deadly torpedo
that no current Successor State could effectively defend against. There
were only a handful of these torpedos left in the inventories of the
Great Houses, and their use was reserved for only the most desperate
battles.
The Siege of Capella was one of them. Grand Duke Tendo had ordered
the 777th Squadron into battle, and the Terrible T's obeyed. With the
proud traditions of their ancient unit behind them, the officers and crew
of the 777th - each descended from the squadron's original crews - left
port in orbit above Nerima. In the belly of each sharklike warship sat the
entire Confederation's remaining stockpile of Barracudas.
The ships of the 777th enjoyed one other advantage over the Furinkan
Combine ships that had invaded the Capella System, and that was in their
special hull lining. The Balao Class had been been designed to minimize
their radar-cross-section signature, and constructed with black, energy-
absorbant coatings over the armor plating which made them difficult to
detect at long range with radar. They were stealthy ships, ghosts in the
darkness.
Time and tiny micro-meteoroid impacts had taken their toll on the
hulls, however, and the ability to manufacture the special hull coating
had been lost with the First Succession War. The corvettes had patchwork
hulls now, and there were parts of the ship that were vulnerable to radar
detection. The crews had to minimize the enemy's exposure to these parts
of the ship, and their tactics reflected this weakness.
"This wasn't the mission I had in mind," the Captain of the _Tang_
remarked to his X.O.. The 777th was supposed to be in orbit above Nerima,
docked with the ancient Corvette Tenders _Mare Island,_ _Murmansk,_ and
_Holy Loch,_ to have their Jump Drives reinstalled. The squadron would
then have been available to evacuate the Tendo Family and the General
Staff from the system in order to continue the war.
The Grand Duke had surprised everyone, however, with his firm
intentions of staying on Nerima and making a stand against the Combine.
Plans for refitting the squadron had been scrapped. The deadly and rare
Barracuda missiles had been taken out of mothballs from the Tendo Family
Armory, and loaded aboard.
"You've got to admit though, that this is the mission we've trained
for, and hoped for, all our lives," the X.O. pointed out. "Those metalhead
grunts on Oni are depending on our interdiction of local space."
"True," Captain Hauptmann agreed, wondering if his subordinate and
friend was aware that one of those 'metalhead grunts' was the Lady Kasumi
Tendo, eldest daughter of the Grand Duke.
He looked to a portrait on the bulkhead of the Wardroom. It was of
a man who had been dead for over a thousand years, the famous captain of
_Tang's_ ancient namesake: Robert "Killer" O'Kane. Beneath the portrait
was a silver-plated cribbage board, worn and pitted with tarnish over the
centuries despite dilligent preservation efforts. Legend had it that this
artifact was the actual cribbage board used by O'Kane during an ancient
and practically forgotten war, a war at sea rather than in space, and the
numerous plaques that adorned the board testified to a tradition of passing
it on from ship to ship throughout its nearly eleven-hundred-year history.
The spirit of the Star League-era Corvette was much like that of the
ancient Fleet Submarine; attack without warning, from a position of maximum
advantage, without being detected. Hauptmann knew this as well as any of
his crew. With their new orders from Grand Duke Tendo, they had been given
their opportunity, perhaps their *only* opportunity, to resurrect their
ancient heritage.
"I never thought I'd see this day," Hauptmann went on. "I just
hope the missiles still function. If they don't, we'll have to get in
close like the damn GunShips, and slug it out point blank. Any damage we
take in the process will only make us more visible to enemy radar."
"They've been checked out," the X.O. assured him.
"Nothing's certain until we shoot."
The phone squawked for attention, interrupting their conversation.
Hauptmann picked it up and listened intently. He gave a few terse orders
and then hung up.
"Time to go to work," he said to his Executive Officer.
The 1MC crackled to life as he finished.
"MAN BATTLESTATIONS!"
* * *
"Captain's on the Bridge!"
Captain Hauptmann floated through the airtight door and onto the
cramped Bridge. Gas-plasma displays glowed in the dim lighting around
him as he assumed his position on the conn. He had repeater displays for
every vital station on board the ship at his disposal; from sensors, to
weapons, to engineering. The muted murmurings of the crew bubbled over
the chirps and bleeps of the instrumentation as they set to work
prosecuting their first target of the engagement.
"Captain, the ship is manned for Battlestations," the Officer of the
Deck informed him. "We hold contact Echo Five-Five on our passive sensors."
"Very well, Mister Patel," Hauptmann grunted.
"Conn, Sensory," the Sensor Supervisor called out. "Contact Echo
Five-Five designated as a Union Class DropShip. Contact now bears Three-
One-Zero minus Three-Five. Sensory holds no other close contacts."
The Officer of the Deck looked his supervisor in the eye. "Very well,
Sensory."
Hauptmann noted the data streaming on his displays before asking
his Officer of the Deck any questions. _Tautog_ was the closest friendly
ship to them, about four light-seconds distant on their port beam. If the
Barracuda missed, it might be up to them to destroy the fleeing target.
"This is the Captain," he announced. "I have the Deck. Mister Patel
retains the Conn."
The various stations on the Bridge acknowledged this. He continued.
"Fire Control, I intend to attack contact Echo Five-Five with a
Barracuda. Make launch tubes One and Two ready in all respects."
"Make launch tubes One and Two ready in all respects, Fire Control,
aye."
"Range to target Echo Five-Five; two hundred-thousand kilometers,"
Sensory updated. It would be a medium range engagement for the formidable
Barracuda.
"Conn, Fire Control; launch tubes One and Two ready in all respects."
"Very well, Fire Control," Hauptmann replied. "Firing Point
Procedures!"
This was the moment of truth. They would launch a Barracuda missile
at the Combine DropShip. If things went well, the enemy would not detect
the ejection of the weapon from the tube. They wouldn't be able to
retaliate at this range even if they did, but Hauptmann wanted to give
them as little time as possible for evasive maneuvers.
"Firing solution set," Fire Control announced.
"Fire One," Hauptmann ordered coldly. This was his first Barracuda
fired in anger. His first Barracuda fired ever.
"Fire One, aye... Weapon away!" the Weapons Officer announced to the
hushed Bridge crew.
The Barracuda antiship missile, a command-guided and self-homing
torpedo, was catapulted with an audible *thunk* from the Number One
launch tube of the _Tang_ via an electromagnetic ejection system.
"The Weapon is running hot, straight, and normal. Estimated time to
Weapon-Enable Point: one-nine minutes, mark."
"Very well, Fire Control," Hauptmann acknowledged. He left the conn
to observe the attack from Sensory.
It would take nineteen minutes for the torpedo to reach the point at
which it would enable itself. In that moment, the weapon would energize
its radar and laser homing sensors, and begin searching for Echo Five-Five.
Once it found the target, it would engage its plasma drive and make a
beeline straight for the enemy spacecraft.
Captain Hauptmann hunched over his Passive EMS Sensor Operator's
shoulder, scanning the displays. They were continuing to avoid the use of
their own radars, which would only give away their location.
"Any indication that they detected our launch?"
"No sir," the man replied. "Not yet."
The minutes ticked off with an agonizing gait. Still, the Combine
ship had not detected the incoming torpedo. No other ships appeared on
the passive scopes that could threaten them.
"The Weapon has enabled," the Firecontrolman finally announced while
studying the feedback from the torpedo's on-board computer - via tightbeam
laser datalink back to the _Tang._ "The Weapon has acquired the target, and
is homing."
Several moments passed as more sensory data streamed in. The smudge of
green radiance on the display that marked the Combine DropShip began to
shiver and quake with multicolored bursts of light. Hauptmann saw it as
soon as the Passive EMS Sensor Operator did.
"Echo Five-Five has engaged its drive," the enlisted rating announced.
"They are radiating from their primary search-and-acquisition radar."
Hauptmann's response was automatic. He had to know which direction
they were running in order to decide whether it was worth the risk of
radioing the _Tautog_ to pursue.
"Mark bearing rate."
"Echo Five-Five is turning to port," Sensory declared. "Bearing rate
indeterminate..." He continued to study the data as it streamed in from the
Target Motion Analysis computers. "He's reversed his turn to starboard, now
putting on negative pitch... Now turning back to port.... He's maneuvering
very erratically, Captain."
"They're scared," Hauptmann said solemnly. "They've never had to
deal with this type of attack before. With just a handful of Barracudas
left in the entire Inner Sphere, it's no wonder."
"The Weapon has shifted to terminal guidance mode," Fire Control
updated.
* * *
"Torpedo!" the Sensor Operator of the Furinkan Combine Union Class
DropShip _General Belgrano_ cried in terror, her eyes wide and flashing
with panic.
The aged Captain of the _Belgrano_ paled as well. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, Captain Peron," the Sensor Operator replied. "Incoming torpedo
bearing Two-Eight-Eight, plus Two-Nine. Range: fifty thousand kilometers."
Her eyes closed wearily. "Speed: plus two-thousand meters per second,
relative."
Captain Peron did the math. Given range, speed, and their own course
and velocity, the torpedo would hit them in just under thirty seconds.
That wasn't a lot of time. "Sound General Quarters!" he ordered. "Helm,
take evasive maneuvers! Communications, notify Theater Command at once of
our position and situation! Sensory, go active on radar, and find the ship
that launched that torpedo! Weapons, all gunners prepare to shoot down
incoming torpedo! Have them commence fire as soon as they are in range."
It would take almost five minutes for his crew to man Battlestations,
more time than they would probably get, but at least he had been prudent
enough to keep a third of his gunners on station at any given moment. They
might be the only chance the ship had.
_General Belgrano_ began to lurch with erratic thruster burns in the
hope of shaking the torpedo. Barracudas and their like were such rare
weapons in the Inner Sphere that DropShips like the Union and Leopard
Classes no longer carried any kind of countermeasure systems. Only the
Overlord Class, itself a rare sight in the Inner Sphere, had the radar
jamming and laser-spoofing systems necessary to confuse an incoming
torpedo.
"Confirming incoming torpedo as a Barracuda-type," Sensory updated.
"The Weapon has acquired us with active sensors and is homing." She
consulted the angry red numbers in the upper left corner of the display.
"Estimated time to intercept: twenty seconds... Mark."
Peron nodded slowly. There wasn't time to don a pressure suit. Even
their light-speed message to Theater Command at the distant Jump Point
would take longer to reach its destination than the torpedo would give
them before impact.
"Helm, continue evasive maneuvers," he said, sitting down in his
acceleration chair. "Use full overthrust until the five-seconds-to-impact
point." The crew dashing to their stations would be unable to move, might
even be injured by the sudden five-gee burns, but it was their only chance
outside of shooting the weapon down. That was what the last five seconds
were for, to give the gunners their chance without the high-thrust evasive
maneuvers spoiling their aim or pinning them helplessly in their chairs.
"Torpedo continues to home," Sensory declared, her voice strained by
the sudden gee-forces that afflicted her. "Time to intercept: ten seconds...
Mark."
The torpedo was a single-minded entity possessed of all the ruthless
efficiency of any cold, calculating machine. Its sole reason for existence
was to locate the target programmed into its memory banks using its active
sensors, home in on it at extremely high velocity, and destroy it. Its
passive sensors noted the bursts of infrared and visible light from the
target's drives, and the microwave emissions from its radar and commo
systems. It then analyzed these inputs for a split second to determine
that the data was spurious, and to be ignored. Only the time-stamped data
encoded into its own radar energy reflected from the target was a valid
input to the Target Motion Analysis subroutines.
The target was attempting to evade it, though its relatively feeble
drive was no match for the sheer power of the torpedo's own plasma drive.
A plasma drive sending a torpedo on a one-way trip could be asked to put
out levels of thrust far greater than any manned spacecraft could hope to
match. Its relative velocity was so high that only a computer-controlled,
radar-directed point defense weapon could hope to shoot it down, and those
systems no longer existed on ships like its target.
It was close now, and the fractional reserve of reaction mass used for
terminal guidance was now released for use by the Guidance Logic. The target
could not evade. It could only be destroyed.
"Torpedo impact in five seconds," Sensory announced. Her voice was
clear and high, with only a slight tremor of fear.
The flashes of light and rumble of autocannon fire through the hull
announced the gunners' desperate attempts to shoot down the torpedo. The
_Belgrano's_ erratic maneuvers ceased, making the flight through space as
smooth as glass.
Gunner's Mate Second Class Akira Takeshi squeezed the firing studs
of his heavy laser array again and again, heedless of the overheat warning
he received from the computer. If he didn't hit his target in the next few
moments it wouldn't matter if he burned out the focusing optics. The target
was nothing more than a blue-shifted blur in his scope, more a projection
of where the computer assumed the weapon would be in the near future, than
an actual, solid target.
All Akira could do was train his laser along that thin swath of black
sky designated by yellow tracking lines in his HUD, and start shooting.
There was a flash of light in his scope, and he whooped in triumph,
sure of a direct hit. He couldn't have been more wrong, but there wasn't
time left to realize that.
The torpedo ignored the incoming streams of impotent light and armor
piercing shells. Its sensors were locked onto the looming spherical hull
of the Furinkan Combine DropShip _General Belgrano._ At five seconds to
impact, the thousand-kilogram high explosive warhead armed itself. The
bursting charge was buried deep within a diamond-hard penetrator assembly
located just behind the sensor package within the sleek armored hull.
The Barracuda antiship missile struck the _General Belgrano_ square
amidships, just a meter to the right of one of the DropShip's maneuvering
jets. The sensors which had faithfully guided the weapon were smashed into
tiny bits an instant later against the hull, and the torpedo's considerable
momentum forced the penetrator through the six-centimeter-thick armor
plating. Even as the rest of the Barracuda was being obliterated by the
force of impact, the penetrator continued on into the _Belgrano._ It
blasted through the pressure hull, snapping through structural members,
power conduits, and miscellaneous plumbing, before the detonator fired.
Akira watched as the outboard bulkhead facing his station bowed inward
as if the treated steel plating were made of rubber. Time slowed down for
him as the fresh white paint on the bulkhead began to blacken, the stain
spreading out from the center of the distortion like a cancer. In the
fraction of a second before he was vaporized by a thousand kilograms of
detonating plastic-bonded high explosive, Akira realized that the black
stain on the bulkhead was the paint being burned away by the tremendous
heat of an exploding torpedo on the other side.
_General Belgrano_ shuddered with the impact, its hull rippling
outward like waves of water from the surgically-neat hole created by the
torpedo. Viewports in the path of the ripple cracked and burst their seals.
Whole sections of armor plate popped free from their mounting. Tiny flakes
of paint and motes of accumulated dust were flung from the hull in a hazy
white nimbus.
The warhead detonation split the DropShip nearly in half from within,
fire and light streaming from fissures in the hull and fountaining from the
impact point. Parts of battlemechs and unrecognizable pieces of scorched
technology scattered from the ruptured _Belgrano_ and into the void. The
tremendous heat of the blast had vaporized the organic matter of the crew
on three entire decks, including the 'Mech Bay, and so no corpses followed.
Some of those spared the blast died as concussive forces threw them
against unyielding metal and each other. The entire Engineering Watch
Section died within seconds as the breached reactor vessel vented star-hot
plasma into the spaces. Others died in the moments after as the through-deck
seals ruptured and the compartments depressurized. The pitiful survivors
that Fate had spared from instant death were now subjected to hard gamma
and neutron radiation from the leaking reactor plant, and the flood of
radioactive coolant gas venting through ventilation ducts whose bulkhead
flappers had been knocked open by the impact or had failed to close in
time.
The Captain of the _General Belgrano_ knew his ship was dead, even as
he knew that he would soon die. The Flight Deck was smashed. All but the
failing Emergency Power was lost. The slow hiss of escaping atmosphere
filled his ears, a sibilant harbinger of doom over the moans and cries of
his surviving crew.
There was no sense in asking for a damage report. He could see through
the cracked viewports an entire third of his ship peeling away from the
superstructure like the rind of an orange. Shards of metal and other
wreckage tumbled in free fall outside. The ship was totally destroyed.
There was only one duty left to him.
"Communications," he croaked. "Can we still transmit?"
His Communications Officer, her scalp split wide open and streaming
blood, pulled herself up to her station.
"We have a low-power radio set," she moaned. "All long-range comms
are down. We might be able to reach another ship, if it's close."
"Activate the automated distress beacon, assuming it still works,"
he ordered. "If the Main Computer is still functional, purge all memory
banks and destroy all crypto material."
He picked up the 1MC mic and was surprised to see that it still worked.
The question now was how many of his crew would be able to hear him. "All
hands abandon ship," he commanded. "All hands abandon ship."
There would be no abandoning ship for the Flight Deck crew, he
realized. The escape pods were located a deck below, and the section of
the pressure hull that connected them was depressurized. They were trapped,
doomed to die as the compartment slowly bled its air into space. He lay
back in his chair and watched the viewports for the sight of an escape
pod, just *one,* that would tell him some of his crew would live.
There were none.
He let out an anguished cry, the only one he would permit himself.
* * *
The Captain of the _Tang_ watched _General Belgrano's_ death throes
through the high power telescope monitor. His crew watched with him. A
single Barracuda had torn the 3500-ton DropShip completely asunder.
"Captain, we're picking up an automated distress beacon from Echo
Five-Five, along with some low-power voice-only transmissions requesting
assistance."
His X.O. gave him a questioning look.
"Should we lend a hand?" he finally asked.
"No," Captain Hauptmann replied, his voice taut with loathing. "No,
we can't do that. Combine GunShips will be closing on this area in force,
and they'll be blazing away with their radars to find us. Our job is to
find and destroy them without being detected, not to get ourselves killed
playing rescue."
"But there are survivors over there," the X.O. pointed out. "Look
at that wreck, Skipper. You know they can't last long."
"I know that. Don't think for a moment I don't. My decision stands."
Hauptmann looked to his Officer of the Deck. "Get us the hell out
of here, Patel. Remain at Battlestations for an hour. If there are no
close contacts at that time, call me in the Wardroom and we'll secure
from Battlestations."
As he floated through the airtight door he noted that the triumphant
expressions on his crews' faces were gone, replaced with the silent
knowledge that next time, it could be them out there left to die in the
cold airless void. He thought back to the days of Killer O'Kane, where
combat had been on the similar terms of attack-without-warning and
no-quarter-given, and wondered if the man had felt just as sick with
himself after a victory as he did.
Chapter Two
Nerima Confederation DropShip _Palomino_
Landing Pad #6, Aquila Starport
Planet Tiber, Palatine System
The Federated Shiratori
14 April 3025
Akane sat sullenly in Crew's Mess. One of the ship's crew casually
swept the center aisle between the tables, his broom making a sighing
sound as it brushed against the linoleum deck. She could feel his eyes
upon her from time to time as she hunched over the table, her chin resting
on her crossed wrists.
It must have been quite the joke among the crew, she thought angrily.
Grand Duke Tendo's daughter and her cipher of a fiance, Ranma, fighting
once again, she mused. 'And did you see that cute girl Ranma was with?'
He had called her 'uncute' before. It was a stupid insult when she
thought about it, something a ten-year-old would come up with, and so
naturally the first time she had ever heard the term was from Ranma. She
could deal with his childish insults, knowing that it was just his usual
way of getting back at her for something that was clearly his fault. But
when he had compared her to Ukyou, and the 'long-lost' fiancee had been
judged the winner, *that* had hurt.
What did Ukyou have that she didn't?
Was it the hair? she wondered. Her hair had been longer than Ukyou's
once; shiny, silky strands of blue-black that she had considered one of
her best features. Then she had cut her hair for the expedition. Didn't
everyone, including Ranma, say that they liked her short hair better?
Were they just being polite?
No, it couldn't have been that simple, she decided. It's just Ranma
being his usual childish, insensitive self. It's no secret that he doesn't
like the engagement with me. I don't like it either, so why is it somehow
*my* fault?!
"Ranma, you jerk..." she muttered to herself. The young petty officer
sweeping the Crew's Mess paused for a moment in his duties to observe her.
She looked up to regard him, an action that turned him away quickly
in embarrassment, his sweeping motions becoming more vigorous as he tried
to pretend that she didn't exist and wasn't looking right at him.
She knew him peripherally. The _Palomino_ was too small of a ship
for her not to know the crew by sight. She knew some of them by name. He
was a Sensor Operator on the Flight Deck, and doubled as one of the Mess
Cranks during off-watch meals. He was about her age too, and kind of cute
in a boyish way.
It would serve Ranma right, she decided. I'm not going to sit here
and sulk over him!
"What are you doing after this?" she asked him.
The young petty officer started, then turned back to her.
"M-Me?" he asked in a small voice.
"Yes, you," she said with a smile. "Do you have liberty after you
finish up here, or are you stuck on the ship?"
The man set his broom aside. "As soon as I'm done here, I'm cut loose
for the night, ma'am," he replied. "But I really wasn't planning on going
anywhere."
She turned up the heat in her smile.
"Do you think you could change your plans?" she asked him.
The young petty officer began to perspire.
"Um... Do you mean go o-out with you, ma'am?"
"Something like that," she replied.
"I'm not sure if I should, ma'am," he demurred. "I mean, you being
who you are and all..."
She should have expected this, she realized. To the crew, she was
the daughter of the Grand Duke no matter what pretense they happened to
be operating under.
"Forget who I am for a night," she said casually. "I'm looking for
company, and you look like a guy who could show a gal a good time."
The petty officer flushed red.
"Y-You mean that, ma'am?"
"'Akane' will do nicely," she corrected him gently.
"Yes, ma'am!" he said, wincing as he as said it. "Um, yes, Akane. I,
uh, it's... I'm gonna need a few minutes."
"I'll meet you down in the Cargo Bay," she told him. "Don't keep me
waiting long."
She rose from her seat and gave him a wink.
The petty officer tried to stop trembling with anticipation as she
left Crew's Mess. He looked at the deck, then to his broom.
"Screw this," he said, tossing the broom into the Galley, and headed
for Berthing to get changed.
* * *
They were seated in a beergarden, near the park, that Akane had seen
when they first made planetfall on Tiber. She had been curious about the
place, which was sunken into the side of a sloping hill below the level
of Sowell Boulevard. The soft whir of electric automobiles moving nearby
was a gentle sound, mingling with the pleasant hum of conversation, and
muted by the hanging vines that clustered about every table. The lighting
was soft, provided by candles at each table and by the evening glow of
the city that surrounded them.
It was a spot she had hoped to take Ranma, assuming she could have
ever talked him into it. Her 'date' for the evening sat across from her.
It was not the pig-tailed mechwarrior, but Petty Officer Third Class
Thaddeus Howard, the _Palomino's_ Sensor Operator.
Thaddeus, or Tad, as she had often heard the crew call him, was a
true gentleman. It was a welcome change from watching Ranma shovel food
into his mouth while arguing with his father, to note that Tad understood
a napkin belonged on the lap, not tucked into the collar of your shirt, and
that a lady appreciated it when you showed her to her seat. She knew on an
instinctual level that it more than simply hollow courtesy for one of the
nobility on his part, that such etiquette and respect for a lady came
naturally to him.
The Pig-Tailed Jerk and his cute fiancee were out of her mind, at
least for the moment.
She had not eaten before the meeting in the park with Ukyou, and now
she was famished.
"Hungry?" she asked Tad.
"I could go for a little somthing," he responded. Her beau for the
evening was understandably nervous with the whole affair, and she resolved
to make the night as stress-free as possible for him.
One of the menu items showed particular appeal to her. A large pepper,
indigenous to Tiber, stuffed with three kinds of melted cheese, seasoned
bread crumbs, fresh cream, and shredded savory herbs. It was exactly the
kind of food that Ranma would despise. She ordered for both of them.
They also ordered beer, which seemed to flow in this place from an
endless tap. Buxom waitstaff in archaic bodices and skirts whirled around
them with silent efficiency and pleasant smiles, each carrying a fistful
of quart glasses filled with the golden brew.
Akane wasn't at all a drinker, and she had never been terribly
interested in beer, but when in Rome... She sipped tentatively at her
glass of pilsener, noting the bite of the hops and the crisp finish of
the lightly-bodied beer. It wasn't half bad, she decided. She could see
why men liked drinking the stuff on a hot day.
Tad drank his with gusto.
"What do you think?" she asked him.
"It's good," he replied, agreeing with her assessment. "I'm not much
of a lager drinker, but this really hits the spot."
She took a larger drink from her glass. The beer's effervescence
tingled in her nose and throat, a sensation rather like drinking champagne,
she decided, only without most of the cloying sweetness. She was liking
beer better and better.
"Have you come here often since we first arrived?" Tad asked as she
put away her first glass in three giant gulps.
"This is my first time," she replied, now feeling a little bloated
by so much liquid taken at once. Their waitress immediately noted the empty
glass and replaced it with a full one. In spite of herself, she took another
drink.
* * *
"Ma'am, I mean, Akane..." Tad began. They had just finished their
stuffed peppers, and were starting on another round of beer.
"What is it, Tad?" she asked him. She was feeling very warm and fuzzy
at the moment, and her grin was perhaps a little too wide.
"Um, if you don't mind me asking, why exactly did you invite me along
to dinner?"
"Two reasons," she blurted, alarmed by how easily the words just
slipped out of her mouth. "The first is that you were there when I wanted
to go."
He seemed to take that in stride, with only a little disappointment
showing on his face.
"The second," she said, wobbling slightly in her chair. "Is that
you're really damn cute..."
When he blushed, she giggled a little too loudly, and then took
another drink of her beer.
"Actually, there's a third reason," she added. "You aren't that
stupid, insensitive jerk, Ranma Saotome..."
"Excuse me for saying this," Tad returned, his expression clouded
with concern. "But aren't you engaged to marry Ranma Saotome?"
She snorted into her beer. "Ha! Don't make me laugh, Tad. Why would
I -EVER- want to marry a clod like him?"
"Begging your pardon, ma'am," Tad said uncomfortably. It was now
very clear to him that Akane was more than just a little buzzed, but the
fact that she was the Grand Duke's daughter could not escape him. He would
have to tread lightly. "But wasn't this your father's idea?"
She set her glass down heavily on the table, sloshing beer over her
hand as she did so.
"Now you see here, mister," she said in a slurred, angry tone. "My
father is a total idiot for doing this..." Her eyes lost focus for a
moment before she continued. "...For even *associating* with a couple of
con-men like the Saotomes... I mean, who in their right mind would want to
join families with an asshole like Genma Saotome? He cheats on his wife,
steals from the Treasury..." A dark thought crossed her mind. "...I bet
he even robbed Chance King before the poor guy died...
"And Ranma," she went on. "Sometimes I feel sorry for him because
he had to grow up with that loser of a father, but then he does something
like this!" Her cloudy eyes lit up with fire. "He thinks she's cuter than
me," she muttered bitterly. "Jerk... Asshole... Bastard..."
Tad waved off the waitress before she could bring them another round.
"Nabiki was right," Akane moaned. "This was a terrible idea. A crazy
idea. I should be home right now, fighting the Combine, not sitting here
safe and sound in some restaurant two hundred light-years away..."
Tad had no reply to that. News of the Combine's siege had been a
blow to the ship's morale, made worse by the fact that they were stuck
in the Palatine System until the _Dragonfly's_ repairs were complete.
"Maybe we should get back to the ship," he suggested.
Akane set her chin down on the table, her eyes heavy with sorrow and
weariness.
"I have to pee," she said to him, ashamed that she wasn't able to
observe even the slightest decorum in her speech. "But I can't stand up
on my own."
Tad looked away for a moment, wondering how in the hell they had come
to this moment. "I'll help you up," he told her.
* * *
While Akane did what she needed to do, Tad waited outside the
restrooms. There was a pay phone situated between the Men's Room and
the Lady's Room, and he considered using it to call the ship. Lady Akane
was extremely drunk, and it was probably a bad idea for her to be like
this in public, much less in public on a foreign planet.
"What's taking her so long?" he wondered, hoping that she hadn't
passed out or something.
He continued to wait, watching as patrons came and went. Still, there
was no sign of Akane.
Finally, he asked one of the ladies who was about to enter the
restroom if she would look for Akane. When she returned, she shook her
head in the negative.
"I'm sorry, sir," the lady replied. "But there was no one in there
fitting your descripton of her."
"What?" the young petty officer cried. "You've gotta be kidding me!"
"I'm afraid not," the lady replied. "You know that there *is* another
door to the restroom. It leads to the cafe inside."
The color drained from Tad's face. She didn't...
He thanked the lady for her troubles, then plunged through the door
to the Men's Room. Like the other restroom, this one had a door set on
the opposite wall, and it led into a small cafe. Through the windows he
could see the bright lights of the street beyond.
There was no sign of Akane in the cafe, or outside.
"Oh man," he groaned. "I am SO screwed..."
* * *
Genma Saotome awoke from a deep dreamless sleep in Berthing. The
Captain of the _Palomino_ stood next to his rack, shining a flashlight
at the deck.
"Commander Saotome," the Captain addressed him. "We have a serious
problem on our hands."
"What is it?" he asked blearily. He could not imagine any problems
in that moment, other than the JumpShip's jump core being somehow
irrepairable, or that the Confederation had finally fallen to the Combine.
"The Lady Akane is missing," the Captain told him gravely. "She
went out into town with one of my crew, got drunk, and disappeared on
him."
Genma blinked away the sleep. Akane, missing? Drunk? With some other
guy?
"Where is my idiot son?" he demanded.
Chapter Three
For the first time in his life, Ranma Saotome felt completely relaxed
in the presence of a girl. It amazed him how well he and Ucchan had been
able to pick up where they had left off more than ten years ago. True, his
best friend from childhood wasn't who he had always believed she was, but
that didn't seem to matter much now.
"It's getting pretty late," he said to her. "We're coming up on
'bingo' fuel."
"Yeah, we should probably head for home," she agreed. Thoughts of
continuing their time together in more personal surroundings was foremost
in her thoughts.
Ranma banked the plane into a turn for the starport.
* * *
Akane Tendo staggered down the wide tree-lined boulevard near the
Starport Expressway, alternately crying her eyes out and cussing hard
enough to strip away old paint. Though she had stopped drinking an hour
previous to this moment, she was getting more and more drunk as her system
absorbed ingested alcohol into her bloodstream. It seemed that her forward
motion was more an act of sheer stubbornness than any sort of coordination
between her brain and her feet. In fact, she had only a peripheral
awareness of heading back to the DropShip, as if her feet were engaged by
a subconscious autopilot.
Her thoughts flew from one extreme to the other, hating Ranma for
what he had done to her in one moment, then railing against herself for
treating him so poorly at the castle. She pitied herself and then pitied
Ranma for having such an awful, mixed-up childhood. The next moment she
was raging at the night, shaking a fist into the sky as if Ranma and Ukyou
were right above her.
Finally, without realizing it at first, she had returned to the
_Palomino._ She did not recall tearing a ten-meter section of chain-link
fence from its posts on the perimeter to get there, nor did she recall
tramping across a kilometer of grassy fields and stretches of concrete
tarmac, oftentimes only just avoiding certain death from the arrival or
departure of a spaceship. All that she was aware of was that she had
returned to the _Palomino._
As she staggered past the steel-tube staging around Tarou's Hunchback,
the throaty sound of the Boomerang's engine filled her ears. She looked
up, her bloodshot eyes wincing at the intensity of the aircraft's flashing
collision lights as it passed overhead. Ranma had returned.
She watched the Boomerang circle lazily around the DropShip before
diving sharply at the ground. Her heart nearly seized up at the idea of
him crashing, and then he pulled out of his dive to flare out neatly for
a landing. Only then could she breathe again.
* * *
The Boomerang rolled to a stop near the ramp up to the 'Mech Bays.
Ranma killed the engine with an absent flick of his wrist. He turned back
to Ukyou, who was giving him an adoring look which he misread as simply
having enjoyed the flight.
"Well, here we are," Ranma announced to her.
"Are you still interested in some okonomiyaki?" she asked him coyly.
"Am I? You bet I am!"
"Terrific," she said to him. "But first I want to thank you for the
ride."
Ranma began to say "Aw, it was nothing," but got as far as 'it' when
she reached over and kissed him. Her parted lips pressed firmly against his
as she curled her arms around him to draw her fiance into a deeper embrace.
At first he was too surprised to do or say anything. Then he started to
enjoy it.
It was only when her tongue began to slide into his mouth that he
panicked. What in the hell was he doing with her?!
Ukyou sensed his negative reaction to the new direction she was taking
with their embrace, and parted with him. He looked like an animal caught in
the headlights of an oncoming car as she drew away.
"Something wrong, Ranchan?" she asked softly.
"Uh..." Ranma murmured cogently.
"You don't get kissed very often, do you, honey?" she noted. She knew
she was correct in this, and that only made her chances with him better. If
he wasn't smooching Akane, then he didn't really love her. Right?
"Uh... I guess not..."
She chuckled. "That'll have to change." She popped the canopy release
and lifted the clear polycarbonate to step out of the plane. "Come on,
Ranchan, that okonomiyaki awaits."
The mention of food snapped him back to reality.
"Oh yeah," he said brightly. "Cool."
Akane watched as the two lovebirds walked towards the _Palomino,_
oblivious to her presence. Anger welled within her once again, and she
lurched forward towards the DropShip.
"Where the hell have you been, boy?" Genma Saotome asked his son in
a tone of voice that brooked no bullshit. He cast a furtive glance towards
the girl accompanying his son, trying to remember where he had seen her
before.
"What's it to you, Old Man?" Ranma retorted. He was in no mood for
his father's crap anymore than Genma was for his. Not after hearing in
gory detail the story of Ukyou's abandonment and the accompanying theft
of her dowry.
Ukyou bristled by his side, only the sight of Genma's bruised and
swollen face keeping her from hitting him once again.
"Akane is missing, boy," Genma growled. "Apparently she ran off with
one of the crew and got drunk. Now she's lost in town."
"What?!" Ranma blurted. Akane and some other guy? It couldn't be
Doctor Tofu, or Pop would have said as much.
"You heard me," Genma told him. "And from what I can see, it's all
your fault, boy."
"Then you're blind," Ranma retorted. It's all HER fault, he thought.
"If anyone is to blame around here," Ukyou added, pointing an accusing
finger at Genma. "It's YOU."
"Who are you, anyway?" Genma asked her, his voice filled with anger.
Ukyou brandished her battle-spatula.
"Does THIS ring any bells?"
It did. Genma fell backwards in his haste to avoid another blow from
the dreaded implement of okonomiyaki cooking.
"Don't hurt me!" he wailed, bringing his arms up to ward off attacks
from her. Some of the assembled _Palomino_ crew looked on with amusement
from the deck of the open 'Mech Bay above.
"What a coward," she spat at him. She turned to Ranma. "Aren't you
embarassed to have him for a father?"
"Constantly," he muttered in reply. He looked down at his father.
"You're pathetic, Pop."
Genma had no rebuttal for this.
"So now what?" Ukyou asked Ranma.
He blew out his breath in a heavy sigh. "I guess I gotta go look for
Akane," he told her.
This was not the answer she was hoping for, but she could see how he
was obligated in the matter. She considered the possibility of lending her
assistance in the search.
"I'm right here, Ranma," Akane said behind them, her voice ringing
clear and sad in his ears.
Ranma spun around to see her. She was not a pretty sight. She was
drunk and disheveled, her skin blotchy and her eyes red from crying. Her
feet were caked with mud from walking across the open ground of the
starport, and her arms were scratched from her encounter with the chain
link fence. The smell of burnt synthetic rubber from the soles of shoes
that had walked across recently plasma-blasted concrete mingled with the
strong scent of beergarden brew.
"Akane!" he cried a little too cheerfully. "You're okay!"
"Not that you'd care," she retorted, wobbling slightly as she did so.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked her.
She gave them both appraising looks, her head drooping involuntarily
as she glanced at them in turn. "I suppose you two have plans for the
evening, right?"
"As a matter of fact," Ranma told her. "Ucchan and I were going to
go back to her place to eat okonomiyaki. Right Ucchan?"
For all of Ukyou's desire to be rid of Akane, she was very
uncomfortable with the present situation.
"Uh, yeah," she replied.
Akane closed her eyes and lurched forward towards Ranma.
"Izzat a fact now?" she asked him in a slurred voice. She opened
her eyes and gave him a hard stare, a shaky finger pointed at his face.
"I suppose that smudge of lipstick on your mouth got there by ACCIDENT?!"
Ranma's hand came up to his mouth, brushing at his lips and coming
away slightly waxy and tinged with red. Genma wailed with dismay about
how his son had betrayed Akane.
"H-Hey, uh," he stammered. "T-This ain't what it looks like."
Her face screwed up with anger.
"Don't LIE to me!" she screamed at him. "I HATE YOU!"
Her open hand smashed against the side of his face. The blow and the
emotional release threw her off-balance, and she began to swoon drunkenly.
Ranma caught her in his arms, his cheek red and stinging from her wrath.
As she sank against his body her tired, aching eyes fell upon the
crook of his left arm, and the narrow burn scars that cross-hatched his
skin. It was the aftermath of his wounding in the garden, where an
assassin's laser had come close to slicing off his arm. He had earned
those scars saving her life.
The sight of them brought back all of her lingering questions and
doubts regarding the pig-tailed mechwarrior, and in her vulnerable state
of body and mind, she broke down into sobs.
"Why, Ranma?" she moaned softly, her voice slurred almost beyond
coherence. "Why did you do this to me?"
He held her close, his eyes trembling with uncertainty and shame as
she continued to cry quietly in his embrace. Then with a final shudder she
passed out in his arms. Ukyou looked away uncomfortably from the scene. The
_Palomino_ crew did as well.
"I need to get her to bed," Ranma said to Ukyou at length. "Sorry
about this."
"No, no. I understand," she replied. "I'll call you tomorrow."
Ukyou turned and started to walk away from the landing pad. When she
was out of sight she would call Konatsu and tell him to bring a car to the
starport. Until then, all she could think about was Ranma's relationship
with Akane.
It was clear that Akane had feelings for him. It was also clear to
Ukyou that the Tendo Heir had been jealous of her from the moment they had
met, and her drunken breakdown in front of Ranma had been an affirmation of
that belief. The only question that remained was Ranma's feelings for Akane.
She didn't want to believe it, but her fiance seemed to have more than
simply a grudging involvement with Akane. There had been real pain in his
eyes at her tacit accusal of betrayal, and he had chosen to see to her
well-being rather than leave with his 'cute' fiancee. Sure, part of it was
his obligation to Akane, but there was more than that.
Ukyou clutched her arms around herself as she walked, and shuddered.
He wasn't lost to her yet, but she had to make an effort to get into his
life quickly, and win him over before it was too late. She couldn't bear
the idea of losing him a second time.
Ranma Saotome was conscious of the many eyes upon him. Most of them
were unsympathetic, some were downright hostile. He had never seen the
crew like this before.
He cradled Akane's dead-drunk body in his arms and started slowly
up the ramp, his eyes glaring back at his silent accusers. They turned
away from him, each unwilling to answer his unspoken challenge. Genma
watched his son enter the ship, conscious of the crew's sudden shift in
attitude towards them both.
There was no elevator leading from the 'Mech Bays to the living spaces
aboard the _Palomino,_ an oversight of the Leopard Class that had never
been addressed despite centuries of production. He would have to put her
on his back and carry her up the ladder. This he did, taking care not to
injure her as they passed through several deck hatches to the Lower Deck.
It was easier for him now, as the ladders were more like steep stairs
in the living spaces. Akane was a lot heavier than he expected her to be,
but that might have been because she was so drunk. He made it as far as
Berthing when he realized that she was starting to throw up.
He dashed for the Head, making it to a stall, but not in time to
keep her from vomiting all over his red mandarin blouse. Steeling himself,
he wiped away the stinking muck from her mouth and chin and set her down
over the bowl. She murmured thanks, and began another round of retching.
Ranma ran the sink while she continued coughing and spewing. Between
heaves she sobbed and mewled, making him feel about ten centimeters tall.
It wasn't his fault that she was like this, but he felt guilty just the
same. He peeled off his puke-stained shirt and tossed it into the sink to
get the worst of it off before he put it into the Ship's Laundry.
Akane lost what little strength she had regained, and slumped against
the bowl of the toilet. He had to prop her up to keep her from heaving one
final time onto the cold terrazzo floor. When it looked at last like she was
finished, he gently pulled her out of the stall and let her lay on the deck.
She was filthy, he realized. Her feet were muddy, her clothes covered
with spattered vomit, her face tear-stained, and her mouth dribbling a
combination of drool and the dregs of her digestive system. A clump of
wetted paper towels cleaned up her face, but the rest of her needed work
if he was going to put her in her rack. That would mean getting her
clothes off - a task he balked at almost immediately.
Still, he had to do something. He couldn't leave her here. Even if he
wanted to, the crew hated him enough already. He didn't need to give them
any more ammunition.
As he pulled her shoes off, he couldn't help but think that this was
actually somehow his fault. At least a little. He felt like it was, anyway.
It was a stupid thing to believe, he told himself, because HE wasn't the
one who had gotten so drunk that he couldn't take care of himself!
"Dammit, Akane," he grunted. "Why'd you have to freak out on me like
this? I don't understand why you're so mad at me. I didn't do nothing."
But he did, he realized. He had kissed Ukyou. Sort of. It was more
like she had kissed him, but until she started getting weird with her
tongue, he had been content to let her.
"The kiss was nothing," he said to Akane. "I mean it. I had nothing
to do with it. It was all Ukyou's idea, okay?"
Her head lolled on her shoulders, and her eyes fluttered, but she
did not reply. Now that her shoes were off, he was back to the impasse of
getting her out of her clothes. His face flushed at the thought. What
could he do?
"Hey, uh, Akane," he said to her. "We need to get you out of these
clothes, okay?" She murmured something incoherent. "So, ah, I'm gonna close
my eyes, and unbutton your blouse, all right? I promise that I ain't gonna
look."
He closed his eyes and turned his head away for good measure before
his fingers began fumbling with the buttons on her blouse.
Man, I hope she's wearing a bra...
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Saotome?" an angry voice
asked him.
He opened his eyes and looked at his accuser. Yuka and Sayuri were
standing in the open door of the Head, looking at him, shirtless, and
in the process of taking Akane's clothes off...
"This ain't what it looks like," he said tersely.
"Didn't we just hear that line of crap from you?" Sayuri tossed back
at him.
"What a pig," Yuka agreed.
"For your information," Ranma bristled. "I was trying to get her
cleaned up. She's covered in puke. You want me to put her to bed as is?"
"We'll take over now," Sayuri declared. "You've done enough damage
for one night."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" he demanded.
"What do you think, you neanderthal?" Yuka asked him angrily. "Can't
you see what you've done to Akane?"
Ranma stood, jabbing a thumb at his chest. "I'M not the one who
decided to get falling down drunk!" he retorted. "So how the HELL is this
all MY fault?"
"Are you blind?" Sayuri riposted. "Can't you see how much she feels
for you? Don't you understand how badly you've hurt her?"
Ranma flinched at her question. "Her? Feel for me? Gimme a break."
"She *loves* you," Yuka returned. "Why she loves you, I can't possibly
imagine. And in spite of her feelings for you, you betrayed her for some
local cupcake. Pig."
Sayuri gave him a look of disgust. "You're worse than blind. You're
a total fucking idiot. You *and* your half-wit father."
"Don't piss me off, lady," Ranma menaced, his teeth clenched.
"Or else what?" she returned.
He stood in cold silence. He did not hit girls, he told himself.
Even girls who deserved it. Even these two, who had hated his guts from
Day Fucking One...
"Stand down, Saotome," Sayuri continued. "Just get the hell out of
here. Leave. Do us all a favor - especially Akane - and go find your little
local honey. When we finally get off this planet, you should just stay here
with her, okay?"
Ranma fists clenched tight with barely-checked wrath. The two fighter
pilots could hear the knuckles crack and the tendons in his wrists and
forearms creak with tension.
"I don't need a couple of dykes like you telling me how to live my
life," he said to them, his voice trembling with fury. "You don't know me,
and no matter what you might think, you don't know Akane either, so just
STAY THE HELL OUT OF THIS!"
He pushed his way past them before he lost his temper and did
something he would really regret.
Akane does not love me! he thought angrily. He took the stairs down
to the Lower Deck three at a time. Half the time she doesn't even seem to
*like* me!
Chapter Four
Ranma Saotome could feel Ryouga's eyes burning into him from across
the 'Mech Bay when he stepped through the airtight door.
"Raaaannnnmaaaaaa," the fanged mechwarrior growled. Senior Technician
Akari Unryuu stood nervously by his side. Members of the Tech Shed and the
ship's crew looked on, anticipating a fight. "What have you done to Akane?!"
"Blow it out your ass, Ryouga," Ranma growled back. "Don't get involved
in something you know nothing about."
Ryouga started towards him. "Maybe I'll just have to beat the truth
out of you, then!"
"You want a piece of me?" Ranma shot back. He beckoned with his hands.
"Come get some, Pork Boy!"
They charged straight at each other across the 'Mech Bay, meeting at
the feet of Genma's Griffin to the sound of fists smashing into each other's
faces. Neither bothered with defense in that first clash. Each wanted to
knock the other's head off.
Ryouga slammed into the Griffin's ankle from the impact, which he
shrugged off a little faster than Ranma managed to recover from his own
injury. Only the separation they had between them kept Ryouga from
exploiting this advantage.
"They tell me you were cheating on her with some other woman!" he
snarled at Ranma as he approached.
"I told you not to get involved in something you don't know nothin'
about," Ranma returned. He dropped into a low fighting stance, knowing
that Ryouga would come to him with little provocation.
"Were you with another woman or weren't you?"
"She's not some 'other woman,' you dumbass," Ranma protested. "She's
an old friend from when we were kids! Can't any of you idiots figure that
out?"
"I've had about enough of your lip, Ranma!"
Ryouga lashed out with his foot, his strike aimed for Ranma's nose,
and angled up in such as way as to drive the bone into the brain if it
connected. The pig-tailed mechwarrior bobbed clear of the strike knowing
that it had been a potentially fatal blow.
If Ryouga wanted to turn up the heat, that was fine with him...
A second kick cut his cheek as he dodged away. He kept up the momentum
of his dodge, pivoting on his heel to whirl into a flying roundhouse that
drove into Ryouga's chest. He could feel Ryouga's ribs straining against
their connective tissues and somehow holding together. The blow sent Ryouga
to the deck, but not long enough for him to follow up.
"Not bad," Ryouga grunted. "I'm glad that you won't make this too easy
for me."
"It's gonna get a lot worse for you," Ranma returned, wiping away the
blood on his cheek, and secretly fearful of the man's resilience. What was
this guy made of? This was not the candyass he had spanked time and time
again in 7th Grade!
Ryouga just seemed to be getter angrier as he stood there.
"I'll tear your head off, Saotome!"
He came at Ranma again, throwing punches that ripped through the air,
blows so strong that Ranma's arms and hands ached from blocking them all.
Straight punches became vicious combination attacks that Ranma could only
defend against. Ryouga's ferocity and his seemingly limitless endurance
gave him no openings to exploit.
They stood locked in mortal combat beneath the Griffin while techs
and members of the crew looked on in awe. The sound of flesh striking
flesh popped and snapped in the cavernous hangar, with neither combatant
gaining the upper hand.
Finally, Ryouga got lucky, and Ranma's head rocked back with a blow.
The pig-tailed mechwarrior flew backwards to smash against the Griffin's
right foot. Ryouga followed through this time, landing a punch to the solar
plexus that knocked the wind out of Ranma, and sent him to the deck wheezing
for air to fill his nearly collapsed lungs.
"Now you'll pay!" he snarled at Ranma, kicking him soundly in the jaw
and laying him out flat.
Ranma rolled over onto his back before Ryouga could stomp down on
his neck and snap it. He lashed out desperately with his feet, tripping
Ryouga up as he tried to recover from his would-be death blow, and sending
him flailing clumsily to the deck, face first.
Ryouga stunned himself with the fall, giving Ranma the chance to get
his wind back. He rose to his feet, body burning with pain, as Ryouga did
the same.
"Had enough?" Ranma asked him, blood trickling down the corner of
his mouth.
"You're still breathing," Ryouga spat wearily. "So the answer is no."
"Don't make me kill you, Ryouga," Ranma returned, huffing painfully.
"I will if I have to."
"I'd rather die than let Akane's betrayal go unavenged!"
Ranma leaped into the air with a swiftness that took Ryouga by
surprise. "I didn't betray her!" he shouted as his foot smashed into
Ryouga's chin.
Ryouga reeled with the blow, staggering backwards near collapse. If
Ranma hadn't been hurting so much, he could have ended it right there.
Instead, Ryouga found his footing and shook away the cobwebs.
"I didn't betray her," Ranma repeated. He had only just stopped short
of dealing his own deathblow with that kick, and Ryouga had taken it like
they were merely sparring. He didn't have much juice left in him at this
point, whereas Ryouga was just starting to feel it.
He needed to buy himself some time.
"You want the truth so bad? Here it is, Ryouga..."
Ryouga tensed, but did not return to the attack.
"The truth is that Ukyou and I knew each other on New Osaka when we
were both nine years old," Ranma continued. "The truth is that until today,
I didn't even know she was a girl..."
"You lie," Ryouga snorted. What kind of fool did Ranma take him for?
He started towards Ranma again, lunging with his foot, and drawing
Ranma into a defensive posture that anticipated a low kick. Instead, he
followed through with a left cross that grazed Ranma's jaw, then came back
with a hard right uppercut and left hook combination. He had picked up a
little boxing in his travels, and figured Ranma wouldn't expect it from
him.
Ranma took both blows hard, and staggered backwards in a daze. Ryouga
noted his adversary's watery knees, and knew that one more shot would put
him away for good.
He didn't get the shot. Ranma must have been faking the extent of his
weakness, he realized as a devastating punch combination smashed into his
bruised body and face with incredible force. That rotten, sneaky bastard!
He saw stars for a moment, and felt the throbbing of his lower lip as he
closed up his guard against another blow. The taste of blood ran in his
mouth from where he had inadvertantly bitten his tongue. Now he was in
danger of being savaged by an enemy that had every reason to do him in.
His enemy did not follow through, either.
"Hear me out, goddammit!" Ranma cried, shaking with pain and with
exhaustion. "You wanted the truth, and I'm giving it to you. If you can't
handle the truth, then just say so and we can go back to killing each
other."
Ryouga was about to reply that yes, killing him would be a good idea,
when Akari shouted his name.
"Ryouga, dearest!" she called to him. "Let Ranma speak. I think we
all need to understand what happened tonight before we rush to judgement."
Ryouga paused, making Ranma want to hug Akari right then and there.
Of course, that would probably have set Ryouga off again... 'Ryouga,
dearest'...? Just what was going on between those two anyway?
"I'm listening," Ryouga said tersely, interrupting his internal
speculation.
"Like I said," Ranma went on. "I didn't even know she was a girl until
today."
"Not just a girl," Ryouga pointed out, "But your fiancee!"
"That's my stupid Old Man's fault!" Ranma returned. "He made some deal
with Ukyou's dad ten years ago, but all he was doing was swindling them out
of her dowry. I had nothing to do with it! I didn't even know there was
an engagement! I thought Ukyou was a BOY, remember?!"
Ryouga thought this over, his face a mask of skepticism.
"Keep talking, Ranma."
"All we were *doing* tonight was talking, Ryouga. We hadn't seen each
other in ten years!"
Ryouga pondered this as well. He didn't look convinced.
"If all you're saying is true," he said sternly. "Then explain what
her lipstick was doing all over your mouth. I wasn't here to see it, but
plenty of other people did."
Ranma blanched. It kept coming back to that stupid kiss!
"That ain't so easy to explain," he admitted, and Ryouga took a
menacing step towards him. "The truth, and I mean this, Ryouga, is that
SHE kissed me. I don't know why she did it. Maybe she was just being
friendly, I don't really know." Actually, he was starting to believe
that Ucchan had intended much more than a simple show of friendship with
her kiss, but this was not the time, and Ryouga was not the person with
whom to discuss the matter.
"Sounds awfully friendly to me," Ryouga noted darkly.
"Look, Ryouga, it ain't like that," Ranma countered. "I don't know
what she was thinking tonight, but to me she is just a friend, and a
friend who can help us find Ryuugenzawa."
Ryouga gave him a dubious look. "Now you're just talking nonsense,"
he rumbled. His fingers cracked as he made a fist. "How can this Ukyou
person help us find Ryuugenzawa?"
"She's an officer in the Federated Shiratori Army," Ranma replied.
He was eager to continue talking as long as it meant he could replenish
his fighting strength. "She says she can get us access to Empress Azusa's
fortress. That's where the sixth key is located."
Now it was Ryouga's turn to blanch. His ferocity had given way to a
sudden abject terror. "Em-Empress Azusa has it?" he stammered fearfully.
It now looked as if he was about to break down and cry.
"Ask my Pop," Ranma confirmed. "He'll tell you."
"We're doomed," Ryouga moaned. "...I'll never get my cure..."
Ranma's eyes lit up. At last he had his opening!
"I just told you that she can help us out, Ryouga," he said to him
in a voice quiet enough to prevent eavesdropping by the fight's many
spectators. "Once we find Ryuugenzawa, we'll *both* get our cures, you
just wait and see!"
"Shut your mouth, Saotome," Ryouga growled. "Don't try to sweet talk
me out of kicking your sorry ass."
So much for an opening, Ranma thought. Time for another tack.
"Look, Ryouga, I don't see how the two of us trying to kill each other
is going to get us any closer to Ryuugenzawa. We should be working together,
not fighting."
Ryouga looked to Akari for a moment. She smiled back supportively.
Then he turned to Ranma.
"I can't bring myself to forgive you for hurting Akane," he said
through clenched teeth. "You've got a lot to answer for."
Ranma's attempt at remaining calm began to fail. Why couldn't everyone
just leave them alone!?
"Anything between Akane and me is just that, Ryouga. Between her and
me. Not you. Not my Old Man. Not anyone else. You have no right to butt
in on this. Akane is MY fiancee, got it? Not yours, Ryouga. MINE."
Ryouga's eye began to twitch, making Ranma tense for immediate combat.
"Do you really mean that?" he growled at the pig-tailed mechwarrior.
"Does she really mean anything at all to you?"
Ranma hesitated. He hadn't even understood why he had just made such
a declaration. Akane *did not* love him, no matter what Yuka or anyone else
might say. Why did he even care if she was his fiancee?
As Ryouga stood fuming just out of striking range, he realized that
he needed to come up with an answer.
"Let's put it this way, Ryouga," he said finally. "The only person
who can say if we aren't engaged anymore is Akane. Until she says otherwise,
you just stay the hell out of our business."
"Fine with me," Ryouga grunted. "The second she wakes up tomorrow,
she's going to dump you, Ranma." He cracked his knuckles in anticipation.
"And then your ass is grass."
* * *
"Akane means a great deal to you, doesn't she?"
Ryouga tensed at Akari's question. How could he reconcile his feelings
for Akane while knowing that Akari was ready to fill his life with joy if
he would just let her?
"She does," he replied uneasily.
"Are you in love with her?" He detected the faint tremor in her voice
that spoke of just such a fear within her. His heart began to clench tight.
He did not want to hurt her. He could not bear to hurt her.
He could not deny to himself his feelings for Akane.
"She was very kind to me," he told her finally. "Before I joined the
the _Palomino_ on Capra, no one could have cared less about me. It was
Akane who rescued me from the Furinkan Combine by making a place for me
on the ship."
"I see," Akari replied. "That's why you were so quick to defend
Akane's honor, then. Because you felt you owed her for her kindness to
you on Capra."
Ryouga closed his eyes. If that is how you want to see things, Akari,
then for you it shall be so...
"Yes," he replied. "Exactly."
She looked at him with her huge soft eyes. "Would you do the same for
me?"
Yes, he thought to himself. I would. But please don't ask me to choose
between you and Akane, because I don't know that I could.
"O-Of course I would," he replied.
Akari sighed contentedly. "It makes me feel so very special to know
that you would." She snuggled sleepily against his shoulder as they went
up to Berthing. "You mean the universe to me, Ryouga dearest."
Heat welled up within him at her declaration. He felt such an intense
satisfaction and pride at being the object of Akari's affection, and at the
same time he felt such intense shame for not being able to come to terms
with his love for Akane, that he was leading Akari on. Was he any better
than Ranma to feel this way about two women? Didn't that make him a
two-timer, with the only difference between himself and Ranma being the
fact that Ranma had actually kissed one of his loves?
"Well, Ryouga dearest," Akari said to him in the darkened passageway
of Berthing. "I guess this is good night."
He could see her eyes shining in the fire-lights.
"I, uh, guess so," he replied.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face up to him.
"Would you like to kiss me good night?" she asked him.
Sweat began to pour in buckets down Ryouga's temples. His knees
buckled. The compartment seemed to be swaying back and forth around him.
She waited patiently for his lips as he grappled with himself.
"I would like to kiss you good night," she added softly.
"No! Um, er, what I mean is. Th-That is to say that..." he stammered
helplessly.
"What is it?" she asked coyly, her eyes still closed. Her lips returned
to a slight pucker that would be receptive to him.
"I-It should be m-me who, ah, you know... uh, er, k-k-kisses you g-good
night," he rambled. He didn't even hear half of what he was saying, he was
wound up so tight.
"I agree completely, Ryouga dearest."
She continued to wait with seemingly infinite patience, which was a
good thing considering the glacial pace at which Ryouga's reluctant lips
descended towards her.
I can do this! Ryouga thought to himself. She wants me to kiss her!
No girl has ever wanted me to kiss her before!
He misjudged the distance in the darkness, for his lips met hers long
before he thought they should have. Their first kiss! Akari was so soft
and gentle. She felt so warm and alive as he put clumsy hands upon her
shoulders. She smelled so nice, too!
He could feel the heat rushing to his face, the blood pounding in his
ears, the growing stiffness in his...
He broke from the kiss with a start. What kind of pervert was he?!
Self-loathing coursed through him. He was an animal, a slave to his baser
instincts, by taking advantage of this girl!
He was no better than Ranma, for now he too had kissed a girl, one
of two that he couldn't keep from his thoughts. His two-timing was complete.
He was no better than Ranma...
Akari smiled to herself as Ryouga stammered a 'good-night' and left
Berthing for his cot in 'Mech Bay Four. Ever so slowly, she lowered herself
off the balls of her feet to the deck. If she had waited for him to finally
reach her, she had the feeling that she would have been left waiting until
well past dawn. A sweetheart beyond compare, but oh, was he shy!
* * *
The last person Ranma expected to see near the very top of the
DropShip _Palomino_ was Doctor Tofu Ono, but there he was, climbing
through the dorsal hatch.
"I had a feeling that I might find you up here," the doctor remarked.
"Do you mind a little company?"
Ranma wasn't in the mood. "Actually--"
"--Good, I didn't think you'd mind," Tofu said, interrupting him.
Ranma relented. He didn't need any more enemies than he already had.
Better to let the Doc say his piece and leave.
"So who sent you?" he asked instead. "My Pop?"
"Akane, actually," Tofu replied. "First she told me to see if you were
'sulking in the Engine Room,' as she put it. When you weren't there, and
no one had seen you leave the ship, I figured this was the only place left
you could go and still hope to be alone."
"Great," Ranma muttered. "So how is she?"
Tofu shrugged. "Physiologically, she'll pull through. After purging
her stomach the hard way in the Head, plus the detox shot I gave her, she
sobered up enough to talk."
"So now you know her side of the story," Ranma observed. "Are you
here to kick my ass too?"
"Far from it, Ranma," Tofu replied. He adjusted his glasses. "I'm
here to offer a little advice."
"No thanks. I've got enough advice for one night. Most of it centers
around me dropping dead or leaving the ship for good."
Tofu chuckled to himself. "I've got to admit, Ranma, that you really
got yourself into a mess this time."
"So you think this is all my fault too, huh?" Ranma snorted. "Great.
Maybe I'd be doing myself and everyone else a favor by leaving."
"Spare me the misery, Ranma," Tofu said, his voice decidedly lacking
in sympathy. "If all you're interested in doing is sitting up here the rest
of the night feeling sorry for yourself, I'll leave. If you actually want
some useful advice, I'd be happy to give it."
An uneasy moment of silence passed between them, as if Ranma really
would leave the ship for good.
"Go ahead, Doc," Ranma said wearily. "I'll listen."
"Good," Tofu said with a nod. "The first thing you have to do is
talk to Akane. Now I wouldn't recommend going to see her right now, she
needs her rest after tonight, but I wouldn't let this fester between you
any longer than absolutely necessary, either."
Ranma muttered agreement.
"As for what you need to say to her, an apology would probably be a
good place to start."
"What do I need to apologize for?" Ranma demanded. "This is all her
fault for overreacting!"
Tofu offered up his hands in a gesture of supplication. "Easy there,
Ranma. I agree that Akane hasn't handled this business with your other
fiancee as well as she could have, but you could have at least done or
said something to reassure her about Ukyou."
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
Tofu shook his head slowly. "I guess it's useless to go on unless I
know how you feel about certain things..."
"Like?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Ranma," Tofu scolded him. "You know exactly
what I'm talking about."
Ranma looked away.
"I don't know," he said slowly.
"You don't know what I'm talking about, or you don't know how you feel
about Akane?"
"The second one."
Tofu chuckled again. There was little mirth in it. "Well, I guess I
had to try. If you can't answer that question for yourself, you can't
really tell her much."
"I'm not in love with Ukyou," Ranma grunted, although after their kiss
he wasn't entirely sure that he was without feelings for her. "How's that?"
Tofu shrugged. "I suppose it's a start. Not much of one, it's true,
but better than nothing."
"So what if I *was* in love with Ukyou?" Ranma asked him, his voice
taut with challenge. "What then?"
"I can't answer that question, Ranma. The best I could offer is that
you should tell Akane about it instead of making her play guessing games."
He gave him a penetrating look. "She was really hurt by this, you know."
"So everyone keeps telling me."
"Have you stopped to think about why she might feel this way?"
"Yeah, I have," Ranma returned. "Trouble is, it don't make much sense."
"Neither of you are any good at playing guessing games, I see," Tofu
replied cryptically. "Talk to her, Ranma. Really *talk* to her."
"I ain't no good at it," he said in a surly tone. "Besides, all she
wants is an excuse to blow her stack with me. It's just better to let her
alone for awhile."
"Not this time, Ranma."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Tofu gave him another hard look.
"What it means is that she is ready to go home. Back to Nerima. We
aren't simply talking about ending the engagement between you and her.
We're talking about her fighting to the death against the Combine rather
than continue on this expedition - no matter how close we may or may not
be to finding Ryuugenzawa.
"If you hadn't noticed by now, the crew is ready to follow her. Your
father may be the official commander of this mission, but as the daughter
of the Grand Duke, he won't count for much if she decides the other way.
Now ask yourself, Ranma, do you care enough about her to want to find
Ryuugenzawa for her? Not for you, Ranma, and not for your father, but
just for her sake?"
Ranma remained silent in thought.
"Whether you love her or not is immaterial to my question, Ranma,"
Tofu continued. "I just want to know if you care enough to want her to
live, because right now I don't think she wants to go on."
This troubled Ranma more than he cared to admit.
"Are you trying to say she's suicidal?"
"Not in so many words, but yes, right now she would rather die in
battle to protect her homeworld than go on with this expedition one more
day."
"All you're really saying is that she hates me," Ranma said finally.
"You haven't told me anything I didn't already know."
"That's not it at all," Tofu protested.
"It seems that way to me."
The doctor shook his head sadly. "I'm not as good at this as I had
thought," he remarked, mostly to himself. "Talk to her, Ranma. You might
be surprised to know this, but you're the only person whose opinion matters
to her right now."
"You're right. I would be surprised," Ranma replied. He looked away
for a moment and nursed his cheek. Even after the beating he had suffered
from Ryouga, it was Akane's slap whose pain still lingered under his skin.
"I'll wait until the morning, Doc. Let her sleep it off first."
"And you, Ranma?" Tofu asked him. "You could probably use a little
sleep yourself."
"I wish," the pig-tailed mechwarrior returned. There was too much on
his mind for that, no matter how close to sunrise the night had come.
Chapter Five
League of Five Nails JumpShip _Impaler_
Bernard's Star Zenith Jump Point
Bernard's Star, the Furinkan Combine
15 April 3025
It had been a narrow escape from Tatewaki Kuno in the Alpha Centauri
System. The Furinkan Combine Prince had just Jumped his fleet into the
star system as the League Navy was preparing to leave. It was only their
considerable separation at the Jump Point that gave Hikaru and his ships
time to form up and Jump to safety before Combine fighters could bear down
on them.
Instead of fleeing back to the League, as Kuno no doubt expected them
to do, they had jumped the relatively short distance to Bernard's Star, a
deserted system with no commercial value, and no planets worth colonizing.
Its dull red primary glowed balefully through the viewports, reminding
Hikaru of Melkor, the star of his birth on planet Angbad.
It was a gamble coming here, as the weak red radiation of Bernard's
Star would take longer to recharge their Jump Batteries than Kuno's fleet
would need at Alpha Centauri to recharge theirs and start looking for him.
He had to stay ahead of Kuno if he was going to survive, for after his
attack on the Combine Fleet at Capra, he knew that his adversary would not
hesitate to attack his JumpShips directly.
"What now, cousin?" Tetsuo Gosunkugi asked him.
Hikaru consulted the charts. Their horoscopes were vague at this point,
offering little in the way of advice. Worse, he had run out of pigeons to
sacrifice; their entrails had been particularly oracular for him of late.
"Well, cousin," he replied, his sunken eyes gleaming dully for a
moment in the red light of the star. "We've succeeded in drawing Kuno
away from Capella. I hear he's only left a token force there while he
comes after us. That will help take the pressure off the Confederation
for awhile."
"I realize that," Tetsuo agreed. "But what now? Can we really afford
to keep this up? Not all of our forces on the worlds we occupied were able
to escape. This is costing us."
"I know, cousin. I know. I want to pursue our strategy of an alliance
with the Confederation." An idea came to him. "I think we should use our
'guest' to maximum advantage."
"The Shogun," Tetsuo hissed frightfully. "HIM?"
"He's perfect!" Hikaru said, rising from his bloodstained altar to
take his leave of the chamber. Tetsuo followed after his cousin, eager to
hear how they could use the deranged leader of the Furinkan Combine. At
the moment he was nothing more than a hostage, and not a very good one at
that.
They walked down the curved passageway of the _Impaler's_ Grav Deck
to the Shogun's quarters. The sounds of drums, steel slide-guitar, and
ukulele were audible in the passageway, as was the sound of laughter and
cheers. The Marine guards who stood outside Shogun Kuno's stateroom
snapped to attention, their discomfort with their assignment evident on
their faces.
Hikaru punched in the code sequence that would open the door. It
slid open, bombarding him with sound that poured out into the passageway.
o/" ...We throw our nets
Out into the sea,
And all the ama-ama come swimmin' to me!
Well, we're going... To the Huki-lau!
The Huki-Huki-Huki-Huki-lau! o/"
Hikaru Gosunkugi fought back the urge to scream in pain. Within the
chamber was Shogun Kuno of the Furinkan Combine, along with most of his
retinue from the atoll. They were continuing the luau, dancing around a
pile of broken furniture that served as a faux-bonfire in a place where
open combustion was severely frowned upon.
Kuno caught sight of his captor and leaped over the jagged pieces of
mahogany and oak to greet him.
"Aloha, bruddah!" he said with gusto. "You come to da big party luau,
no shit?"
"Not exactly," Hikaru replied, knowing that he had to get rid of
his royal hostage, and quickly. For the sake of his sanity.
"We make planetfall soon, yah?" Kuno continued, ignoring the young
man's reply. "No can surf in dis big metal can!"
"I'm afraid not, your Eminence," Hikaru said to him. "We'll be Jumping
again shortly."
"Dat's heinous, brah!"
"I can see that you're enjoying my hospitality," Hikaru observed. One
of the hula girls he vaguely recognized from his time on New Hawaii saw
him and gave him a wink. He blushed. "I have good news though, you'll
be going to a planet with big oceans very soon."
Shogun Kuno's tanned face beamed.
"Hey yah, bruddah! Where we be goin'?"
Hikaru cast his cousin a look. "The Capella System," he told Kuno.
"The planet Nerima."
Kuno shrugged indifferently. "It got oceans, den it got surf."
"I'm glad you agree," Hikaru said to him. "Farewell, your Eminence."
He stepped back through the door and mercifully sealed it against the
noise of the luau.
"What are you talking about, cousin?" Tetsuo demanded.
"I want you to take the _Seisyun_ to the Capella System," Hikaru
replied. "And I want you to bring the Shogun and his entourage with you."
Tetsuo was aghast.
"For what purpose?" he asked indignantly.
"To offer the Shogun to the Grand Duke as a bargaining chip with
Tatewaki," Hikaru replied. "Kuno might like to see his father done away
with, but the Combine's Daimyo won't stand for it. He'll have to back
down from his invasion if he's to get his father back. Just be sure to
let this magnanimous gesture on our part cement our alliance with the
Confederation, and my betrothal to Akane."
Tetsuo stepped away from his cousin to think about his proposition.
"It's crazy, cousin, but it might actually work," he finally conceded.
"The tricky part will be in breaking the blockade," Hikaru noted.
"But if I can continue to lead Kuno on while you make a break for Capella,
it will keep the number of ships guarding the system low enough for you
to have a good chance of pulling it off."
"It will be interesting to work with Nabiki again," Tetsuo agreed.
"I'm sure, given the current situation, that she'll see the merits of
working towards an alliance with the League."
"We can hope, cousin," Hikaru said, nodding. "We can hope. In the
meantime, get that crazy idiot off my ship. I can't stand having him on
board any longer."
* * *
Furinkan Combine JumpShip _Imperator_
Alpha Centauri Zenith Jump Point
Alpha Centauri System, the Furinkan Combine
15 April 3025
"Oh, Prince Kuno, you big stud, you..."
The honeyed voice of his Pig-Tailed Goddess called out to Tatewaki
Kuno, and he turned to see her clad in a diaphanous gown of the purest
white. Angelic she looked, yet her fiery red hair and her flashing
blue-grey eyes spoke of her burning desire to be made a woman by him -
pure in its devotion, luciferian in its intensity.
"Oh, Pig-Tailed Girl," he returned, his arms opening wide for her.
"My Venus! Come, let me take you into my embrace!"
She leaped for him, her lips pursing in anticipation of his passionate
kiss, and her ample bosom bouncing within the loose restraints of her gown.
"Wait!" a voice cried out. His head turned to see Akane Tendo standing
forlornly by his side, her eyes downcast and filled with sorrow.
"Pray tell, what is it that troubles thee, my lovely Akane Tendo?" he
asked her.
"You have chosen the Pig-Tailed Girl over me?" she asked him wretchedly.
Her query wounded him to the depths of his being, pangs of grief and
dismay that shook him to his very foundation.
"Never!" he cried, shocked that such a thing was even conceivable.
"Thou art my Tigress! My shining Valkyrie with blue-black hair! Never could
I, Tatewaki Kuno, foresake thy love for another!"
"Oh, Tatewaki," the Pig-Tailed Girl cried out in grief. "Then you
don't really love me?!"
Tatewaki reeled. How could he forsake his buxom red-haired Venus?
"I--" he started to say.
"You must choose," Akane told him sternly. "Which one of us do you
love the most?"
He looked to the Pig-Tailed Girl, her fiery, almost masculine spirit
and her vibrant sexuality beckoning to him. Then he looked to Akane, that
fierce huntress who dared him to catch her up in his arms with every battle
they had ever fought - if he was worthy of her.
"Woe!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Oh, woe! Why must
I choose?! For I, Tatewaki Kuno, do love thee both!"
"You cannot love us both," Akane and the Pig-Tailed Girl chorused.
"You must choose."
"Nay!" he wailed. "Why must thou render such cruel judgement upon me?
I cannot give my heart to one and forsake the other. Is there not a place
for the three of us at Aphrodite's table?"
"No," they intoned. "You must choose."
Overcome with grief, he leaped at them to take them both into his
embrace. His two loves lashed out with simultaneous jumping kicks to his
face.
He awoke to discover that two of his portraits had fallen off the
bulkhead and landed on his head. One was of Akane Tendo, a portrait he
had commissioned from stereographs taken at her nineteenth birthday, and
smuggled out of the Confederation by his agents. The other was of the
Pig-Tailed Girl. This image was based upon the few good shots of her
that were available from the flight recorder of one of his bodyguards
on Capra.
He regarded them both for a moment, tears still streaming down his
cheeks.
"It is not right that I should abandon either of my loves," he said
to himself. "I must find a way to make them both mine forever more."
A tone from the door sounded. He set the two portraits back upon the
wall before acknowledging it.
"Enter," he commanded.
It was Kyle, his Operations Officer.
"Speak," he ordered the man.
"My lord Prince," Kyle began. "I apologize for disturbing your rest.
I wanted to inform you that our forces have rooted out the last League
invaders from the occupied systems."
"And what of these base curs?" Tatewaki inquired.
"Most of them escaped, Lord," Kyle said uneasily. "It seems that they
were not as heavily reinforced as we had supposed. They were ready to flee
the systems on very short notice. We were only able to destroy a handful,
and we captured even fewer of them."
"Pay them no mind for the moment," Tatewaki said, dismissing the
matter with the wave of his hand. "It is the whereabouts of that blackguard
Hikaru Gosunkugi that concerns me."
"Ah yes," Kyle returned uncomfortably. "We are unable to determine
the whereabouts of his fleet at this time, but as our ships finish charging
their Jump batteries, we shall begin searching all the systems within a
One-Jump radius of Alpha Centauri."
"It is not good that Gosunkugi should escape," Tatewaki seethed. "He
has my father as his hostage." He clenched a fist. "O, how I have prayed
for an end to his pusillanimous reign over the mighty Furinkan Combine,
but not in this manner! He finds yet another way to debase the high rank
of his office by allowing himself to be made the prisoner of a half-wit
such as the scion of Gosunkugi!
"Now, I, Tatewaki Kuno, must spend my forces in the search to recover
him, that we do not lose face with the Daimyo - for they will assume that
I have abandoned my hated father to mine enemies, that I might rise to the
Shogunate in his absence. Like Alexander the Great, I shall be forced to
return to my demense to restore order amongst the bleating herd of the
lords, and all momentum of conquest shall be lost!"
"I understand, my lord Prince. We shall redouble our efforts to find
the League Navy."
"Nay!" Tatewaki thundered. He began to shake with rage. "Thy eyes see
nothing, thy ears hear nothing, and thy mind understands nothing! The mass
of our great endeavor grinds to a halt! Even now the cursed Commonwealth
looks with sallow eye upon my vast empire. The Amazons know I am occupied
with the Confederation - should they discover that we are laid bare by the
hated League, and our sovereign lord taken hostage...."
He raised his fists over his head.
"It is intolerable!" he bellowed. "That such a great lord as myself
be made to play the fool!" He fell to his knees and began to beat upon the
carpeted deck. "Both of my loves are snatched from me by that fell villain,
Ranma Saotome! My twisted sister escapes from my very flagship! And now,
my own father is taken by the likes of Hikaru Gosunkugi, a cretin so callow
and crass that he dares not face me as true man - upon the battlefield -
but as a craven plotter, weaving instead his dark magicks upon me!"
Kyle could only stand in silence, and let his lord rage impotently
against the cruelties of the gods.
END OF PART SEVENTEEN
Author's Notes:
1. Well, I've underestimated my _literary elephantiasis_ once again. It
looks like "The Saotome Gambit" will be completed in no more than 25 parts
at this point, which is a lot more than I had intended. That means we're
somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the way done. Hang in
there!
2. The Argentine Navy cruiser _General Belgrano_ was the first and
only warship to be sunk by a nuclear-powered attack submarine, the
_HMS Conquerer._ The sinking occurred during the 1981 Falkland Islands War.
It was an act that was questioned by many in the international community,
as the _Belgrano_ was sunk well outside of the 200 mile War Zone around
the Falklands observed by Great Britain. The sinking of the _Belgrano_
was regarded by many at home as vengeance for the loss of _HMS Sheffield,_
a British destroyer that fell victim to an Argentine Exocet antiship
cruise missile.
3. "The Huki-lau" is, in fact, a real hula dance, which my wife happens to
know how to perform, though her last public performance of it took place in
the fifth grade... Those who wish to enjoy the haunting melody can hear it
in one of the most recent episodes of "South Park."
4. The cribbage board mentioned in the story is in fact a real artifact, one
that I have actually seen and touched. I used it to link the legacies of the
World War II fleet submarine and the Star League Era corvette, kindred vessels
across a millennium. The actual cribbage board rests in the _USS Kamehameha_
Wardroom, a gift from CDR O'Kane's widow upon the commissioning of the ship.