Um... Mr. Author Sir, please don't hurt me! I _still_ haven't gotten
around to reading the previous chapters (before 5, I mean).
Oops? ^_^;;
So, once more, this chapter may be a little light on the sort of C&C
that can pick up on continuity errors and such - sorry. But for everything
else... I'm gonna drop the sights right on this sucker and let fly with the
big guns, man!
INCOMING!!!
Well, I _could_ offer excuses for the delay. I could... and I will. ^_^
"Away for some time", "busy with other works" and a lots of others work.
Sorry; I'll try to be quicker next time. Someday, I'll be as fast as
Morgan
Hudson, or Jamie Wilde, or Sparky Clarkson, you'll see.
Hey, you're doing better than I am. I've yet to finish the draft of
AGA: Amazon Nights, or even PtE 3. Sigh.
Or Reality War 3, for that matter. SIGH.
(I'll write again, I swear! Just... I need some sleep first, please! ;)
Yeah, right. ^_^
Really! I promise!
And I, as always, am begging for any and all C&C you can send me. Public
is
wonderful, but I prefer public, okay? Pleeeease...? Drop me a line, and
telll me what you think of the chapter.
Hmm. Public or private, public or private... I can't decide; I must do
them both!
(no hentai jokes, please - it _was_ an unfortunate turn of phrase, I'll
admit. :)
After the long-winded notes, let's get on with the fic, shall we?
Yeah! About time, bucky. :)
Thrusters ignited, and the SDF-1 trembled with the unbound power
Obligatory Nit-Pick Which You Can Ignore Since It's Just Me Being, Well,
Picky: The SDF-1's engines are, technically, bound, since they're under
control...
^_^
Maybe the term you meant was "boundless"?
of its colossal reflex engines. The white-blue novas of its drives lit
the lonely Pluto for the final time, and so the starship began the long
trip back home. Left behind was the corpse of Macross Island, a new and
mysterious satellite of the ancient planet. In the chunk of frozen
seawater that still adhered to the fragment of earth, however, the
supercarriers Daedalus and Prometheus were missing. After being made
airtight and operational once again, both carriers had been linked to
the battle fortress in record time, and were now integral parts of it.
One of these days, I'm gonna put together a LEGO model of the SDF-1,
with the Daedalus and Prometheus attached. Why, I don't know... but it'll
be cool. :)
[snip]
Ranma Saotome was not particularly given to fear. Actually, his
only phobia involved cats, and he only suffered it because of one
unfortunate episode. For years he had been convinced there was nothing
in this world that could scare him; neither dangerous animals (cats did
not count in his mind), nor dragons and other supernatural beings, nor
even homicidal demons could phase him in the slightest. That is, until
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHH!!!!!
*pantpantpant*
*glare*
I see this WAAAAAY too often, and I'm gonna speak up here - sorry,
Latin, but you get to be the scapegoat. :)
It's _NOT_ -- repeat, *_NOT_* -- "phase", people. It is "faze". From
the dictionary:
phase /feiz/ noun [C]:
Any stage in a series of events or in a process of development
Example: The project is in an early phase, and won't be complete
until late September.
faze /feiz/ verb [T]:
To surprise and worry (someone)
Example: Even the nearby explosion was not enough to faze him.
Note that "phase" has other possible definitions, but none of them mean
the same as "faze".
(cf. The Cambridge International Dictionary of English,
http://dictionary.cambridge.org; Websters Third Collegiate Edition, on my
bookshelf)
[End Rant]
[snip]
Since you already were roasted over the "her" vs. "his" usage, I'll let
it slide, just this once. :)
"So, Ranko," Lena ranted on, apparently not noticing the young
Suggest: ranted -> rattled, rambled, went, etc.
"ranted" suggests that she was angry about whatever she's talking about.
woman's increasing discomfort, "how did you meet Ranma?" They were
seated at one of the restaurant's tables, and the older woman was
serving Ranma a cup of tea.
'I really should already have answers for this kind of
questions,' Ranma thought, silently berating herself. "Uh, well," she
lamely started, brainstorming for a believable story, "I guess you could
say we first met in China..."
"In China?" Lena repeated, surprised. "And what was he doing
there, if I may know?"
"Well," Ranma said, more confident now, "he was on a trip with
his pop, training. That's how he got as good as he is, y'know."
Not that it's all that important, but I'm especially reminded of
Paragon, by Mr. Haynie, throughout this section. :) They're totally
different, but it's Ranma doing the same thing - describing his male side
while he's in his female form, to a stranger who is not aware of his, er,
double nature.
[snip]
"Um, sure, but I really oughta get going now. I'm really tired,
and I still gotta go to get my ration at the Refugees' Center..."
It was common those days for the civilian refugees to spend hours on end
standing on line, waiting to get the frugal rations of food that the
army distributed. The biggest problem was that the ship hadn't been
prepared for supporting the entire population of Macross, and while the
food supply saved from the shelters was considerable,
and the frozen seaweed, fish, oysters, clams, etc from the transported
beach and sea....
(hey, if _I_ thought of it, I guarantee that THEY did ;)
Gloval had wisely
decided that a careful handling of the resources was in order.
"Oh, but you _have_ to stay a little longer." Ranma's surrogate
aunt seemed very disappointed. "There's so much I want to ask you. I'm
very fond of Ranma, you know, and I want to learn more about him. He's
just so... reserved! By the way, Ranko, is he as healthy as he seems?"
Lena asked, winking mischievously.
*sputter**choke**wheeze*
Bwwaahh haha hah hah! *gasp* Oh, man, the look on his... er, her ...
face would have been PRICELESS!
By the way, you owe me a new monitor and keyboard. Diet Coke just does
NOT go well with electronics, especially when introduced as a high-pressure
stream, such as that provided by a hysterically-laughing otaku who just took
a drink as he read that line...
[snip]
"Ouch!" Clutching the back of his head in pain, he hurried out of
Just a minor grammatical thing, but I think it'd read easier -- and be
more effective -- if you seperated the exclamation "Ouch!" from the next
sentence, like so:
"Ouch!"
Clutching the back of his head ...
Technically, they're both correct... but the second is more common. :)
[snip]
the town. In the weeks he had known him, the man had never worn a
tie--hardly the common, sweet-talking, black-suited politician he was
Ever wondered about the fact that we're all familiar with the
Men-In-Black concept (and I'm not talking about the movie here), and yet, we
still accept it when politicians, who fit the image rather nicely, profess
to be our friends?
Just something to think about... ;)
used to. "Here, let me do it," he told Max, who immediately let go of
Rick. Scooping the young pilot up in his arms, Ranma set off towards
the stairs.
"Put him in the spare bedroom," Max called out. "He'll be staying
here for a while, it seems."
"Sure," Ranma said, not turning around, "no problem." Only when
he reached the first floor did he realized the real meaning of this new
turn of events: there was only one spare bedroom in the White Dragon,
and it was the one he was currently occupying, so that meant... Oh,
crap.
This was going to be messy.
Oy, vey. Rick and Ranma, roommates. Yeesh. :)
Hey - the R&R Project! (if anyone gets this, I'll be amazed - and, I
wanna talk to you, ASAP!)
---
"Sensors register defold activity, sir!" Vanessa's voice cut
through the bridge with infinite clarity.
Eh... I dunno. I'd say something like:
Vanessa's voice cut through the clamor on the bridge with crystal
clarity.
Rather than the, frankly, hard-to-grasp term 'infinite clarity'.
Maybe it's just me. :)
[snip]
Roy strolled up to the table shared by the Lynn family and Ranma
and flashed one of his patented grins. Ranma's trained eye observed the
secure, confident, evenly-measured steps he employed, knowing them to be
reserved to accompished martial artists, and made a mental note to get
him as a sparring partner.
Yeah, that's Ranma - always looking for a fight.
(ba-da-thump!)
Oh, and BTW: accompished -> accomplished
^_^
After the greetings were exchanged, the blond pilot turned his
attention to Minmei. "Good to see you again, Minmei. I heard my
perverted buddy is here with you?"
I _really_ expected Ranma to react to this. C'mon - wouldn't it have
been in character?
"Hey, who are you callin' a pervert?!"
:)
Minmei looked disconcerted for a moment. "Oh," she said at
length, "you mean Rick. Yes, he's upstairs, resting."
"Minmei," Max intervened, "why don't you go and wake Rick up?"
Why go there? She could do it from here. All she has to do is sing -
that'd wake EVERYONE up, and I include the dead in that statement.
(No, I do _not_ like Minmei's voice actress. Why do you ask? :)
"Okay!" Minmei said brightly, beginning to stand up. Roy would
not permit it, though, and gently pushed her back to her chair.
"No, please, there's no need; I'll come back later. After all,"
Roy said, smirking, "poor kid needs as much beauty sleep as he can get.
Besides, I also wanted to talk to Saotome here."
"Oh, is that so, Fokker?" Ranma asked, a grin of his own in his
lips. He didn't know who was the first one that had used the last name
to call the other, but now it was almost a tradition whenever they met.
"Well, let's go outside."
And a continuity error! Yay! (maybe)
Obviously, if they've gotten to the point where they have a 'tradition'
(of sorts) about their names, then they've known each other for at least a
short time, no?
So why is Ranma only NOW noticing that Roy is an 'accomplished martial
artist'?
Together they left the White Dragon, Ranma trying to hide his
curiosity. They stopped at the sidewalk, standing side by side and idly
watching the busy street. After a moment's hesitation, Roy turned and
faced Ranma.
"Well, y'know we're short-handed nowadays, dontcha?" Seeing Ranma
nodding hesitantly, he continued, "I'll be blunt, Saotome, we need
pilots. There're more Veritechs than people capable of flying 'em, and--"
"Not interested, thanks," Ranma interrupted, frowning.
Aw, but why not? Think about it: excitement, adventure, really wild
things... er... okay, considering your prior life, I guess that's not all
that attractive after all...
"C'mon, Saotome, I think you'd do great, really. You may not have
any instruction, but that's no problem at all; these babies practically
fly themselves! We could surely use someone like you with us, agile and
with quick reflexes." He would have continued, but in that moment, a
familiar female voice echoed through the city.
"Attention, all hands to battle stations. Attention, all hands to
battle stations," the voice blared though the ship's PA system. "This is
not a drill; I repeat: this is not a drill."
"It is, in fact, a hammer. And it's coming down... on us."
"Gotta go, they're playing my song. Just think about it, okay?"
"You got my answer, Fokker." The young martial artist's face was
serious, his jaw set.
"Think about it," Roy repeated, before whirling around and
running towards a jeep parked nearby. "See ya!" Soon enough, the
four-seat vehicle was speeding down the street, losing itself in the
city's
considerable traffic.
Yeah, 'cause, y'know, the best time to cruise the strip is right after
an air-raid warning (or the equivalent). You get all the babes that way.
Riight.
Okay, I'll stop being sarcastic, and instead point out that I'd suggest
giving us a REASON for the traffic, since there IS a warning in effect at
this point, and I'd imagine most people would be running for the shelters
and CLEARING the streets - I'd be surprised, honestly, if the SDF didn't
have a policy that enforced it. Clearing the streets, I mean. During an
emergency, they've gotta be able to shift equipment quickly, right?
Ranma watched him go, before shaking his head and entering back
into the restaurant. The table was nearly deserted now, as Minmei, Jason
Redundant; if he's 'entering' the restaurant, he's already going 'back
into' it. Just use 'entering'.
and Lena seemed to have left. Its only occupant, Max, was looking to him
suggest: looking to -> looking at
in curiously, but didn't say anything until Ranma himself was seated.
in curiously -> in curiousity
"So," Max began, "what did Roy want?"
Ranma moved in his chair, unconfortable, but replied, "He wanted
me to become a pilot. He said something about there not being enough of
'em, or something."
Max leaned forward. "What're you going to do? Are you going to
join the RDF?"
Ranma grimaced. "No."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not a soldier," Ranma spat, a bit irked at the other
man's insistence. "Because war has no honor. Because I don't use
weapons. Because I'm not a killer. Take your pick; they all work for
me."
Because war has no honor? Er... I'd be inclined to think that Ranma
wouldn't agree with that statement.
The weapons and killer parts, yes. The war part? No.
(Although I'd think that even Ranma would recognize the fact that it's
rather hard to fight someone in outer space while your blood is boiling in
your veins and your flesh is freezing solid... Thus, the need for
protective outerwear. :)
("And in fashion news: Emil Lang, the famous designer, has revealed his
new spring line of protective outerwear! The new VT's shown here are decked
out in all the latest in designer destruction devices, and painted in HOT
colors! With these, the stylish VT pilot can be confident that he or she
will be the talk of the skies as they demolish the enemy forces. Back to
you, Bob..."
Okay, that was wrong. Sorry. :)
[snip]
The Zentraedi vessel closed on the SDF-1, weapons at the ready.
Responding to the threat with swiftness, the battle fortress
regurgitated its own mecha, which quickly swooped around to face the
incoming pods. A furious dogfight ensued, dozens of pods and Veritechs
erupting in flames at the same time. The rapid fire of the SDF-1's
batteries and gun turrets and the VFs' Gattling rounds met Zentraedi
And, as always, I can't help but wonder how many pilots' last words
were, "Dammit, you idiots, you're hitting MEEEEE-" *boom*
energy blasts and laser bolts, and short-lived spherical explosions lit
the eternal night of deep space.
The Micronians hadn't fired the ship's main gun, Breetai noted to
his utter puzzlement. What reason could they possess to forsake their
most powerful weapon? Such incomprehensible behavior...
Ah, yes, Humanity's most powerful secret weapon: unpredictability. :)
[snipp-o]
Jason caught his breath, not believing his ears. What? They were
going to leave Ranma alone during an alert? No, he could not permit it.
As Ranma always said, it was the duty of a martial artist to protect
those he cares about. If they weren't going to do anything, then he
would have to look for his sensei.
D'OH!
Stealthily moving towards the door, Jason gingerly opened it wide
enough for his little body to fit through. He slid past the narrow space
and, not bothering to close the door, simply sprinted up the street,
knowing he would reach the park in no time.
Ranma would be so proud.
Yeesh. Kids.
:)
[snip]
Gloval was aware that the ship couldn't withstand the attack for
much longer. A new cannon bolt hit a nearby battery, and Gloval could
see through the forward viewport as the lifeless bodies of the gunners
floated away in the vacuum. Something snapped within him.
"That's enough! We're firing the main gun!" he yelled, enraged.
"THAT's it, this chick is TOAST!"
He ignored the collective gasp of his crew, his head inclined,
hands clasped behind his back.
---
The park was all but deserted, and Ranma was thankful for this. A
break to sort himself out, that's what he needed. There was something
unreal about the whole situation, about the park itself. Perhaps it was
the continuous, unnatural breeze that constantly ran through the closed
environment of the ship's vast insides, or the eerie metallic ceiling
that hung over the city. Perhaps it was the importance of the decision
Oh, they haven't implemented the artificial sky yet?
[snip rest]
You've got some seriously good work here, man. One issue that I _would_
have yelled about has already been hashed to death -- namely, Rick's lack of
screen time -- and I don't really have any other complaints.
Very nice work, my friend. Looking forward to more!
Brian Payne
sofaspud@sofaspud.org
http://www.sofaspud.org