[FFML] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 55 - Let the Ladies Be Heard From Part 2 of 5

[Daniel Jess Gibson]

[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri
Chapter 55 - Let the Ladies Be Heard From

Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in
these stories.

C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments at comcast.net or  dan_s.comments at att.net
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http://www.cs.ubc.ca/cgi-bin/ftp/archive/anime-fan-works/Ranma/ty
pe/Sic-Semper-Morituri
(these are the original versions)

      Ranma looked in the bathroom mirror at the redhead staring
back at him.  He instantly grabbed his pigtail, as did she.  His
was black, her's was red.
      "Not another one of _those_ conversations!" he hung his head
and lamented, "They're going to think I'm nuts, talking to
myself."
      "Do you hear anything?" his mirror image asked, her hand to
her ear.
      Ranma felt an odd need to mirror the gesture, he barely
stopped himself, but he did listen.  He heard nothing, not even
the beating of his own heart.
      "This is private," she assured him, "Just us."  She pointed
from him to her.
      "So why are we talking again?" he asked, feeling especially
weird talking to himself, yet not himself.
      "Just a few things bothering me," she said, smiling cutely
at him.
      He shook his head violently.   I'm looking at _myself_, and
thinking how cute I am, he thought, then announced, "That's
sick!"
      "I know that," his reflection told him, smiling broadly, "I
think you're really yummy too."
      Ranma blushed in spite of himself.  Recognizing his own
tricks in the conversation.
      "You don't understand," his reflection said, like she was
lecturing a particularly stupid schoolboy, "Do you?"
      "What?!" Ranma asked, "What Asuka and Rei are plotting?  Why
Asuka keeps looking at Rei and smiling?  No, I don't understand."
      "Then you aren't thinking," Ranko said and paced within the
mirror, "Asuka-chan's planning something, it's the idea of
surprising Rei that's got her smiling.  You should have figured
that out, _|I|_ did."
      Ranma frowned at that.  "I figured she was planning
something, but she never plans anything _nice_, and Shinji seems
to be going along with it.  Helping her.  _That's_ what I don't
understand."
      "Me neither," Ranko admitted, with a shrug, "So I figured
I'd talk about it."  Then she smiled broadly.  "And Nab-chan and
Raccoon are going to be back soon, and boy are you nervous about
_that_."
      "What do you mean?" Ranma accused, waving his finger at his
reflection, who struggled not to wave her finger back.  "I'm not
afraid of Nab-chan, I'm not afraid of Raccoon."
      Ranko leaned her cheek against the glass and sighed.  "What
about the warmth pressed against you, that someone needed and
wanted you?"
      Ranma raised a fist to give his reflection a black eye and
himself seven years back luck, then lowered it.  "What would
_you_ know about being lonely.  You're beautiful, charming Ranko,
everybody loves you, everybody wants you."  He stopped, stared at
the ceiling.  "This is stupid!  I'm arguing with myself!"
      "And you don't think _that's_ lonely?  Being just a piece of
meat to be drooled on?  I can understand why Asuka-chan doesn't
care about boys her own age.  Most of them are disgusting!" she
shouted angrily.  When she calmed down, and Ranma quit shivering,
she explained, "And I'm not you, you aren't me, and neither of us
are all there is to Saotome Ranma.  So two parts of Ranma are
arguing.  Do you think either one of us could do this and the
other couldn't.  I'm as surprised as you are to be here.  But we
got stuff in common, we've got differences, but until both of us
work together, there won't be _one_ Ranma."
      "Ranma's a guy!" he told her.
      "Ranma's an odd one now," Ranko corrected, "That means `he`
can be a guy, or a girl, and `she` can be a guy or a girl.  Or a
fire-breathing tadpole now."  She laughed.
      Ranma felt his head spinning.
      "He _|and|_ she are there."  Ranko tapped Ranma's forehead
before he could yank it back.  "Guy or girl is just the
covering."  She cupped her breasts and released them before Ranma
got too indignant.  "It's always a pretty covering, but it's only
a covering.  I think Ranma, the real one, is learning to use
Nyogtha's powers, that's why you and I can't control the
transformation.  You always hated having water splash on you, you
_still_ can't control the change, and you hate that even more."
      "There's the `other` too," Ranma pointed out to avoid
acknowledging that the lack of control bothered him, "What, we
have to merge with it?"  That thought bothered him even more.
      "I think we have to let it have more say in what we do and
are," Ranko said, "Frankly, I don't think it considers anything
beyond fighting, 'pack', and kittens."
      Both Ranma and Ranko shuddered at the idea of becoming
parents that young.  Especially with the `other` doing the
mate-choosing.
      "So the other, what would it do?" Ranma asked.
      Ranko shrugged.  "Dunno, but we should think about it, as
long as we're like this."  She pointed to him and herself.
"Split up, unconnected, something might take advantage."
      "We've beaten everything that came at us!" he replied hotly.
      "Like Raccoon's shooting, like the Meliorist in the
Dreamlands, or Rei-chan in like . . . _anything_?_  Whatever gave
us those weird dreams, didn't get beat by _us_!  It got beat by
our friends: Shinji, Toji, the Dragon.  I agree, a straight
face-to-face fight, except for Nyarlathotep . . . crap, I can
pronounce that without trying . . . in a fight like that, we'll
win.  You and I know there are other kinds of fighting, and some
of them we're no good at - "
      "Yet," Ranma and Ranko told him and herself with surety.
      "If we lose, there may not _be_ a 'yet'," Ranko reminded him
of something he'd avoided thinking about.
      He sighed, nodded, then looked around, hoping nobody else
could hear the conversation.  "What do _we_ do?"
      "First," Ranko said quietly, "You need to get over how you
feel about Nab-chan and Raccoon."
      "Get over - !?" he screamed.
      "Don't quit feeling it!" Ranko shouted at him as he turned
his back to the mirror, "Gods, I'm dense sometimes!"  She ignored
the fist threatening the silvered glass.
      "I'm not afraid of them!" Ranma shouted at her nose-to-nose,
his stubbornness mirrored on her face.
      "_I_ never said you were . . . _you_ just did!" Ranko
shouted back in frustration, "What is _with_ you?  Are you
happier with Rei-chan and Asuka-chan who beat you up and yell at
you, rather than somebody who treats you nice?"
      Ranma froze, staring at the mirror.  Ranko mirrored his
expression and pose.  "That's it, isn't it?" Ranko asked, as if
realizing the truth, then she got a smug expression, "The great
invincible and sought-after Ranma Saotome, so desperate to be the
center of attention, loves being worshiped . . . " her tone
softened, "Is afraid of people just being decent to him."
      "I got friends," Ranma said defensively.   Now I know why
the others hate me teasing them, he thought, It's like having my
skin sanded off.
      "Friends like Nab-chan and Raccoon?  You've got rivals and
admirers, they aren't the same as friends," Ranko asked quietly,
probing rather than teasing, only her quirked eyebrow indicated
her feelings, "Let's ask _why_ you are . . . uncomfortable."
      "Raccoon's a guy!" Ranma insisted as he turned his back on
the mirror, knowing he was hiding.  He glanced over his shoulder
cautiously, and instantly turned away from the sight.
      "Is that all you think my interest in him is about?" Ranko
sounded and looked more like a mad Asuka, "That all I want him
for is to stick things in me?"
      Ranma could feel the sweat pouring down his back.  "I'm not
afraid, I am _deciding_ not to turn around."
      "I heard that," Ranko said coldly, a mirror of Nab-chan's
tone, "You really don't get it, do you?  You really don't, why me
and Raccoon bug you so much?"  Ranko laughed at him.
      "What's so funny!?" Ranma angrily whirled around to confront
and demand.
      "You," Ranko said, pointing at him and laughing, "What's
really got you mad is that I can beat him, and that 'Nobody beats
Ranma Saotome', can't - even - come - close," Ranko teased.
      "Boy, does that tone bug me," Ranma muttered, then shouted,
"How do you beat him!?"
      Ranko's anger seemed to vanish.  She looked at him with
soft, doe eyes and smilingly held her arms wide open.  Ranma
wanted to step up, into that embrace.  Then he shook himself
loose of the spell.
      "You be weak?" Ranma said disdainfully, "That's . . . " He
searched for an insult that could cover his disgust with her and
her trick.
      "More complicated," Ranko told him with an irritating smirk,
"It isn't just weak, it can also be if _he's_ weak.  You never
give yourself permission to be weak, to just cuddle in somebody's
arms, even when you're in a girl's body.  That's weak, fine, but
you also never drew them into your arms to protect them, to make
them feel safe.  When _they're_ feeling weak."  Her voice
softened, she let him see and hear how tired she was, "It's a
martial artist's job to be ready to fight at anytime, in any
conditions, right?"
      "Yeah, sure," Ranma said in confusion, "You know that."
      "Don't you ever get tired of it?  Always having to be on
guard, always looking at everybody and having 'how are they going
to attack' running through your head?"
      Ranma paused before answering.  The truth is . . . I do, but
it's a martial artist's job, he thought, then said, "It's the
price I - we - pay."
      "Fine, you and I are used to it.  Don't you think the others
would like to not have that burden for a time?  Even just a few
moments of peace?  Don't you think they'd like to know they can
rely on _us_ to protect them, so _they_ can relax a bit?"
      Ranma realized he'd never considered that.  "What's that got
. . . oh."  It all fell into place, as if he'd mastered a new
technique.  One Ranko had mastered months ago.
      Ranko smiled.  "That's right, a few moment of feeling . . .
not safe, but saf-_er_, of knowing somebody is guarding their
back.  Maybe Raccoon only keeps looking for mystical threats,
maybe Rei and Asuka figure we'll point out whatever the problem
is with a dumb question.  It also means, we have someone watching
our back, we can relax just a bit.  Do you really think all that
weird stuff that Raccoon and Asuka-chan described in Nerima would
have happened if they, or even Shinji, was there?  I - don't -
think - so.  They would have helped protect us, maybe from
ourselves, but they would have done it.  Why do you think
Nab-chan crawled into Rei-chan's lap and not yours?  Why was
Rei-chan the one who could comfort Asuka-chan?  Because being
thought of as soft and girly isn't something she's the least bit
bothered by, I just bet she _loves_ it.  She loves being thought
of as a _protector_, rather than just a fighter," Ranko sternly
told Ranma, "Has that made you less afraid of her?  Has that made
you less happy she's on your side in a fight?  Instead of
standing against you?"
      Ranma frowned, hating to admit it, "No."
      "So how would you be weakened?  How would you be dim - made
smaller in power by giving _them_ a few moments of quiet and
safety?  Or by getting a few moments yourself?"
      Ranma opened his mouth to protest, then shut it and thought.
      Ranko continued to press, "How many sacrifice maneuvers do
you know?  Maneuvers which make you weak, to put an enemy at a
severe disadvantage, if they work."
      "Yeah, I know plenty," Ranma replied distractedly, silently
hating where the conclusion led.
      "So what's the problem?"
      "It's not the same!" Ranma insisted, repeating the old
argument, without believing it.
      "How is it different?" Ranko asked petulantly, "You risk
yourself to gain an advantage, how is that different from letting
you and them get closer?  If you find out they can't be trusted,
you pull back.  If you _can_ trust them, you're ahead of the
game."
      "It isn't that simple," Ranma retorted loudly, then added
softly, "There's a big difference."
      "Because you're afraid," Ranko said, throwing up her hands
in disgust, "But not of anyone who _will_ hurt you, just of
people who _might_ hurt you.  You'd rather have them afraid and
uncertain about you, that's |pathetic!|"
      Ranma raised his fist, and saw the ceiling of his bedroom
was not intimidated by him in the least.  "Terrific," he said to
the empty room, "Another one of _those_ dreams.  Why don't I just
_tell_ myself what I need to know."
      " 'Cause you wouldn't listen," he would have sworn he heard
all the pilots chorus.
      He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
------------------------------
Then momentarily out of action, temporarily out of gas
      Why haven't you adopted those tactics here? Nabiki asked
herself the same question she'd been asking since Ritsuko had
tucked her in and left after kissing her forehead, Are you afraid
of retribution? She touched her forehead. Or are you afraid of
alienating them?  They'd remember slights and insults, they'd
never trust you on _anything_ again.   She didn't want to keep
thinking this through, arguing with herself over and over again,
she wanted to take the wonderful, warm, safe feeling she'd had
when Ritsuko had held her, and wrap it around herself again and
never let it fade.  She pulled the pillow from under her head and
hugged it tightly against her chest.   Instead, I keep torturing
myself.  Maybe I should try it, it would solve my worries, since
Rei or Raccoon might see clear to 'eliminating the problem',
Nabiki lied to herself, worse she knew she was lying and this
time she couldn't just dismiss it all, No, it isn't any of that.
The part I always admired about Akane, how strong she was, or
rather her willingness to use her strength.  Unlike Kasumi, who
had almost no strength and no desire to use the strength she had.
Then when Ranma came . . . did I do all the things I did because
I was afraid.  No, that's not me.  What could he do to me?  But
here . . . they _could_ hurt me, they could beat me at my own
game.  Asuka, Raccoon, even Rei and Ritsuko have as sharp a
tongue as mine.  Raccoon's a better conman.  Ritsuko could
probably beat Ranma in a fight.  But all that isn't what scares
me about them.  I can't believe it's - loneliness, I was never
lonely in Nerima, only a few people didn't despise me, and the
rest were either afraid of me, or of no consequence . . . no
consequence.  There I could be alone, I found out you can be more
alone in a crowded room, than you can be in a forest.  It's all
about hope.  I never had one bit of hope that those people would
like me, would help me.  That's not the case here.  Is that what
draws me?  Ranma is full of it . . .
      "In more ways than one," Nabiki commented.   Asuka's the
same.  The less said about our tactical commander the better, but
even Gendo and Simson let 'the kids' go, control us with
experience and advice, and otherwise give us free rein.   "Do
they hope too?" she asked the room.   I never had any hopes in
Nerima, plans, hopes and dreams were just things to be smashed
and stolen by other people.  One scam after another.  Filling up
all the empty time.  I knew if I could keep someone off balance
long enough, I'd win and I could forget about the whole thing
until the opportunity presented itself again.
      Nabiki rolled over in her bunk, concentrating on the washer
on the floor, she emptied her mind and pushed on it with the
stare.  Nothing happened. Even cynical 'I'm going to die instead
of you' thinks about and believes in hope.  He's got none, but
nurtures it in others.   "Emptiness, if he really understood
Nerima, he would have taught me to batter thought and emotion
away with a wall of plate steel and worked down," she mumbled, "I
guess what _really_ bothers me . . . is they like me, my fellow
pilots, my `mom`, all those soldiers.  Now, I'm afraid of that.
More afraid of keeping it, than of losing it, though that would
hurt a _lot_ too.  Nothing I did in Nerima really changed
anything.  Kasumi stayed the same, my father stayed the same,
nothing ever really reformed, no matter what I did to try and
shake things up.   She touched her hip, remembering how it was
broken.   Even _that_ didn't really change anything.  Just
methods, and realizing that anything I desperately, passionately
wanted . . . I could never have.  As soon as I saw something I
wanted, it would be destroyed or someone `more deserving` would
take it away or be given it.  I guess that's another reason I
foisted Ranma off on lil' sis, because if I tried to take him . .
. she'd just have tried and succeeded in taking him away.  Give
_her_ the romantic involvement, and those two would stay at each
others throats until the end of time.
      "Was I that selfish?  Knowing I couldn't have him, I made
sure _nobody_ would?  That little sis would never appreciate his
qualities, or smooth over his plentiful rough edges, but be
jealous anytime anyone got near `her` man?" she asked the
emptiness around her and within her, then she raised her arm,
looking intently at the marks there, "Wasn't that the most small,
weak, and selfish thing I ever did?  Since I couldn't have him, I
fixed it so no one else would make him happy, or even be allowed
to try?  The one thing I ever did that lasted, and the most
sadistic.  My legacy: two wounded cats in a sack, eternally
tearing each other to pieces."
      She felt confusion from the elemental.   So, you understand
why I did what I did, she realized, You just can't figure out why
I'm dwelling on it, instead of fixing it.  The answer's easy: I
don't _like_ who I was.  I also know Asuka, Raccoon, Ritsuko and
I guess, Gendo, all know who I really am, or was.  So why haven't
they confronted me?  Why haven't they tossed me out?  Why?  Why?
Why?
      There was silence from the elemental, Nabiki hadn't expected
words, or even thoughts.  The winds began, building to an oddly
precise hurricane.  Nabiki found her bedding wrapped around her,
squeezing her gently.  The winds ebbed and rose, tightening and
loosening the wrapping.
      "Okay, okay," Nabiki chuckled at the odd `hug` from her ally
and teacher, wondering why even an elemental from another plane
understood the gentle approach, when so few in her former home
had any idea.
------------------------------
August 13, 1947
      "Why now?" Nabiki asked tiredly as they headed towards the
mess hall for breakfast, she hadn't slept well, thinking on all
the same topics, until she fell into an exhausted sleep.   Or
Coffee `zapped` me, she thought.  "Why are you willing to teach
me now?  When you weren't before?"
      "Because you have the power now, and it frightens, you
respect it.  It's obvious if you gain _more_ power, you'd respect
it as well."  He effortlessly continued the
'head-bagger-knee-knocker' gait as he walked.
      "Yes, Coffee and . . . the Brothers," Nabiki admitted and
turned away," I suppose it - it did scare me."
      Jeff stopped to wait for her.  "Not just that, you wouldn't
simply unleash your new powers on the people who've hurt you all
your life.  That's the real development."
      "It hardly seems fair," Nabiki said and shrugged, "Although
I wouldn't normally care about fair.  The spell, the winds - "
She walked to the entrance of the mess hall, where Jeff waited
for her.
      "It's not that.  You have another, even greater power that
frightens you even more, it can exceed any spell or wind that you
or I could unleash.  It could hunt your targets down and destroy
them utterly, and you give no evidence of using or abusing that
power either."
      "What power is that?" she asked, mystified about what the
power could be, "Not the EVA?"
      "Certainly not."  He opened the hatch and held it for her,
displaying all the sailors and Marines collecting their trays,
sitting to eat, and in the middle `their` table sat empty.
"Imagine you were sitting in the mess hall at lunch, and one of
your foes appeared with a cry, that because of you 'I've seen
Philadelphia and you must suffer horribly as you die.'  You could
kill them with just two words.  Yet you'd fear to say those
words, seek another, gentler, less vengeful way."
      "Really?  What are these words?" Nabiki asked, becoming
uncomfortable as one-by-one, every man in the compartment stopped
eating and was turning to look at her and Raccoon with growing
concern.
      "Open fire."
      Nabiki shuddered as she summoned the image of the bane of
her existence facing such a fusillade.  She saw in the faces, the
curiosity and concern for her welfare.  All I'm doing is looking
unhappy and worried, she thought, noting the number of men who
sat and ate while armed, And these men, these soldiers, are ready
to go kill something.  She shook her head to banish the image of
grisly death, and what the Marines and sailors would do, and had
done to protect her.  She smiled to them, waved.  "The 214
offered to fly over and teach us to shoot from a Corsair," she
announced and was relieved when most returned to their meals.
"Yeah," she admitted quietly, suppressed a shudder as she entered
the mess hall, "If I told them all that - was done to me, I can
imagine what they'd do."
      "Power," Jeff said quietly, "Learning to use it, learning
when to hold it back, and when to unleash it."
      Nabiki nodded as she picked up a tray.   He's right, back in
Nerima it was just me being quicker of mind than the others.
Here I can think and plan, all to direct forces into a
coordinated attack.  Very different.
------------------------------
Drop of a hat she's as willing as playful as a pussy cat
      Maya stood on the deck of the carrier.  They had a strong
'following' wind, so the apparent wind over the deck was minimal.
She ignored the occasional blasts of multiple .50's beneath her,
and looked over the Marines and sailors who had assembled.  I
wish they were still treating me as their `kid` sister, instead
of the local expert, she thought of the intense interest they
were directing at her.  I could understand that, if I was wearing
my usual skirt, instead of the slacks I am wearing and if I were
as beautiful as Sempai.  She steadied herself.  I'm more
comfortable as a joke, or one of the other's sidekick, she
thought as she looked at the men's faces, Not as the teacher.  It
would be - almost - better if they were leering at me, instead of
attentively listening.  She held up a rifle in one hand and a
bazooka in the other.  "These for killing human enemies," she
said over the noise of the wind, "Many enemies, bullet-immune
are," she told them, "Too many of our new enemies not hurt with
bullets, not hurt by rockets, not hurt by bayonets."
      She set the bazooka down, then thrust with the rifle butt.
Just like I was trained, she thought before saying, "That works
better."  She let them mumble among themselves for a few moments.
"Fist and club, less immunity, but fist hit pile of dung, who
volunteers?" she said as she raised her hand and looked around
eagerly, and let them chuckle, knowing it was not her
idiosyncratic English, but at the pictures she drew with her
words.  She walked up to Sgt. Kilrain.  "I try on Sergeant," she
said as she mimed a thrust, "I think I lose all my teeth on
deck."  Better if they were laughing at me because I'm just a
silly girl.  No wonder Nabiki's so nervous, she thought.
      She let the laughter roll over her.  Feels better, more
natural, that they're laughing with me, or laughing at me, she
thought as she returned to the bazooka, remembering to bend at
the knees to set down the rifle, instead of at the waist.  It
only reduced, not eliminated, the wolf-whistles.
      Maya felt herself blushing at the whistles and the comments
that accompanied them.  She'd already worked out a counter with
Nabiki, "You whistle at me," she shouted back as she lifted a
bazooka, "You been at sea too long."
      Many of the men guffawed at that.  Maya held up the bazooka
as she straightened up.  "Bazooka rocket, lance of fire kills
tanks.  President name for it.  Ask Raccoon, I forget."  She let
them chuckle again.  "Tank-killing lance of fire, useless is.
Holds bazooka this way, now is a useful club.  However -"  She
lifted a practice round.  "If punch works, this is how we really
punch enemies.  Practice round is solid.  Warhead of concrete."
She loaded it as she'd been drilled.  "It is the punch we use.
Rocket Punch!" she shouted as she aimed over the side of the
ship, making sure the backblast wouldn't hit anyone or anything,
and pulled the trigger.
      The rocket streaked away, wobbling slightly under power.
The motor burned out and the rocket dropped into the sea with a
tremendous splash.
      "Tactics very old, may seem strange.   Napoleon," she
explained as she handed the bazooka to an armorer for reloading,
"Many guns not good aiming results.  So line of men, all shoot as
one.  Volley fire?" she couldn't keep the question from her
voice.
      Why do I keep thinking Sempai and Raccoon set me up to
embarrass me?  I have to get used to dealing with these people,
and especially dealing with their words.   "Chief Armstead, he
knows old drill," she said as she stepped to the end of the front
line.
      The Chief stepped in front of the group.  He talked too fast
for Maya to follow, but the men seemed to understand and accept
what he said.  Eight men and Maya were selected and provided with
bazooka's by the armorers.
      "Load!" the Chief called.
      Maya loaded the dummy round as she'd been drilled.  Ignoring
the Chief's almost incomprehensible words of explanation.
      "Volley fire present!" the chief ordered and Maya stood and
aimed her bazooka, along with the rest of the line.
      This thing is heavy, she thought, Heavier than before, how
is that possible?
      She noted Armstead moving to the side.  The Chief won't
stand in front of us, even loaded with dummies, just in case, she
thought.
      "Volley Fire!" the chief ordered.
      Nine fingers pulled their triggers.
------------------------------
      Gendo noticed the posting on the main message board.  He
took down the list, and decided to examine it thoroughly.  "
'Unwritten Rules of NERV'?" he read quietly, as he noted the
message had all the proper notations that made it an official
U.S. Navy transmission, and for public posting in Task Force 7N,
NERV and it's associated elements.
      He saw Rei's neat handwriting and wondered why she hadn't
mentioned her own addition to the list.   I never considered the
written word as a way for her to more openly express herself.
She has so little patience for the spoken word, he considered her
`rule` and added, not a correction, but a clarification.  He
considered the list broadly.   A relatively harmless way to deal
with tension, the proliferation of typewriters also gives
complete anonymity to those who want it, he thought as he glanced
at the signals officer, I suspect there are people `guarding` the
list to keep it humorous, albeit informative, without it becoming
obscene or trivial.   Gendo completed his amendment and returned
the clipboard to the wall, wondering how it fit in with his
`Diabolical Plan`.
      The signal's officer noted the neat handwriting, in English
and Japanese.  '5.) Do not call Commander Ikari's office 'The
Ninth Circle of Hell.'
'5a.) Unless you desire a personal interview to test your
assertion.  Always willing to please.'
      "I think this place is getting to people," he said as he
typed the amendment for the next housekeeping transmission.
---------------------------------------------------------
      They sat on the floor among the chairs of the 'pilots'
playroom'.  Nabiki stared at him.  I don't need a conversation
block to tell me she's anxious to get started, he thought.  "You
absorbed the powers of the Flying Polyps.  With Coffee's
influence, you should be able to summon the winds they
controlled."  Out of his satchel, he pulled out a sheet of
notebook paper.
      "As Coffee will tell you, air and wind are powerful
elements, when used correctly.  The powers you have, will have
nothing to do with spellcasting.  This is just you setting your
will to a task."
      "It is by will alone that I set the wind in motion, it is by
the blood of Polyps that air acquires speed," Nabiki intoned with
all apparent seriousness.
      Jeff noted the humorous conversation block and grimaced.
"Uh, yeah I guess," he said, "Anyway, I want you to summon a wind
strong enough to -"
      Confetti fluttered down from the ceiling to rain down on
both of them.  Jeff glanced at the tiny piece of paper left in
his hand.  His usual aplomb was hard to maintain.  "Okay, power
training and subtly teaching you to activate your abilities is
done, let's talk about control."  He glanced at Nabiki.  She
stared at the overhead and descending shreds of paper, and had a
piece of confetti on her nose, and seemed content to let it
remain there.  He waved a hand in front of her face.  "Are you
still here?"
      "Th - that - wasn't supposed to happen?  Was it?" she
stammered.
      "Eventually, yes," Jeff told her.  She's scared, he noted
from the block of color that hovered over them.  "There's nothing
wrong with that.  It was going to happen, as you defeated more
enemies in combat.  It's happening to all of us."
      Nabiki stared at him with a horrified expression.
      He plucked the piece of paper off her nose and somberly
continued, to calm her down, "Control is the key.  Do you control
the power and personalities, or do they control you?  You've got
people to help.  Rei and I are probably used to it, Asuka and
Ranma are probably as disconcerted by it as you appeared to be.
So you have your choice of coaches and commiseraters."
      "You're okay with this?" she asked on the edge of hysteria.
      "You forget what I am," he said coolly, "I look and try to
act human, but I'm not.  No, I'm not okay with this."  He
shrugged.  "What's the alternative?  Let our enemies win?"
      "What if we become the enemy?" Nabiki asked, now more
hopeless than hysterical.
      He resisted the urge to touch her, not knowing how she'd
react.   Cold words, he thought, Colder, calmer is better.   "Rei
or I will kill you in that event."
      "Gee, thanks loads," Nabiki commented dryly.
      Good, he thought, Back to sardonic.   "Hopefully, someone
will do us the same favor should we lose control."
      Nabiki stared at him in horror.
      "I've said it before, why are you so shocked?" he asked
incredulously.
      "I thought you were joking!  You know 'I'm Mister Doomed and
Mysterious, aren't I cool?'"
      He smirked at that.  "Ha!  What changed your mind?" he asked
with genuine curiosity.
      "I realized if I killed you I'd . . . " She stared at her
clasped hands in her lap.  "Eat you.  Not your body, but all the
parts that make you you . . . that's how you beat Sharon . . . "
She stared at him.  "Isn't it?  You `ate` her?"
      "Yes," he admitted, nodding, "I thought I could do it
carefully, hold her together . . . put her somewhere safe, then
restore her to a living body."   He sighed, shook his head.   I
won't breakdown, he thought, I did what I could.   He centered
himself and continued.  It doesn't work like that, all my effort,
all my skill, she still crumbled like old paper.  Soon there was
nothing left except bits.  Just like Chaugnar Faugh."
      He was glad Nabiki was looking around the room trying to fix
on something.  He needed to put those emotions aside.   Or I'll
lose her too, he reminded himself.
      "That's what we've become.  That's what you volunteered
for," he told her carefully.
      "I knew this was too good to be true."  Nabiki grimaced.
"What do we do when it's over?  When we've won?" she asked,
frowning in disgust.
      "Depending on when it's over, we either become the avatars
of various cosmic principles, or we would just go out into space.
Staying on Earth would be too dangerous.  There's also something
I've been trying to ferret out, maybe we won't have these
worries."
      "That sounds good," Nabiki said eagerly.  Her smile and
conversation block showed it wasn't feigned.
      "We won't have them because we'll all be dead.  I've got
independent confirmation of what Shinji was talking about.  I
don't know if that will be a good or bad thing."  He shrugged as
if it didn't matter.   Hopefully, she's still got a trace of 'If
you save Nihon and his August Majesty, then today is a good day
to die', he thought, Because dying is about the best deal we can
make.  Maybe a Japanese wouldn't find oblivion as terrifying as I
did . . . Until I realized the alternatives.
      Nabiki nodded.
      "Let's get back to control," he told her, shifting to a less
highly-charged subject, "Let's see if you can generate a small
wind, enough to move this paper across the floor -"  A mass of
flaming confetti slammed into the bulkhead.  "- and keep it in
one piece.  Let's try again."  Then he muttered, "I'm glad this
is cheap paper.  Maybe I should have brought plate steel."
------------------------------
      Maya walked up to the `pilots' playroom`.  The smoke wafting
off her was not _entirely_ due to her mood.  The Marine guards
tensed at her expression, but she paid them no mind.  She yanked
the list off the wall, completely missing the frightened looks of
the ensign who had been following her.  She glanced back over her
shoulder, and he decided _anywhere_ else on the ship was a better
place to be.  She concentrated on writing in English, muttering
angrily in Japanese to burn off some of her frustration.
"Whoever was so clever with the smoke bombs . . . the Captain and
the Admiral . . . and many of the senior chiefs will want to -"
she paused, and spotted Jeff approaching, she used the ancient
form, "Removing the husk, what is the proper word?"
      "Flaying," Jeff told her as he read her entry over her
shoulder.  Switching to Japanese, he said, "Although
colloquially."
      He returned to English, "Skinning alive."
      She said quietly, "Skin alive, yes, that's what they say."
She hung up the clipboard and stalked off.
      She heard Jeff reading the entry aloud.  " 'Do not
substitute smoke grenades for practice grenades, just to see if
they notice.'  Oh, _lovely_._"
      "I think the lady's seriously pissed," she heard one of the
Marines tell Jeff.
      She heard a pen scratching as Jeff replied, " 'The
difference between a monster immune to bullets and resistant to
bullets can be determined with a short burst of .50 API, if it is
merely unhappy and not seriously wounded, it's immune.  Further
testing is unnecessary.'  Tell the joker that swimming back to
the West Coast might be a good career choice."
      She smirked at that as she headed towards the `girls'`
shower.
------------------------------
      Kaji entered the commander's office.   Hard to tell which of
us is in a fouler mood, he thought as he rubbed a hand over his
stubble.  He lounged against a chair near the Commander's desk
      "How did you allow this?" Ikari asked, staring over his
steepled fingers.
      "They were fully vetted," Kaji countered, "The vetting
process was compromised, we are re-vetting all the important
personnel.  Doctor Akagi and Analyst Ibuki are out of reach."
      "The military will take care of that," Ikari said, "I want
to know why the immediate defenses were not available.  The idea
that such a lapse was allowed to occur - "
      "Afraid of losing control of the kids?" he asked flippantly.
      "Considering our _reserves_ destroyed a number of major
mystical enemies, with hand weapons," Ikari lectured at him, "I
think fear of a loss of control would be a serious threat."
      More than _you_ do, Kaji mentally completed the Commander's
thought, Except I have a control you don't.  "Our investigation
has turned up no other SEELE sleeper cells.  The investigation of
the school kids _has_ turned up something, while they think we're
looking elsewhere, one of their number, Asuka's nemesis, has
disappeared, her parents also were found dead.  Some of our
mystical types say they were sacrificed.  Maybe she killed them
to escape, or we are meant to think she did."
      "Understood, is she any longer a threat?" Ikari asked,
continuing to stare at Kaji over his fingers and glasses.
      Kaji was almost immune.  "I doubt she's a threat.  My major
concern is that the idea we can't control the area surrounding
the pilots seems to be gaining ground among our enemies.  The
Navy will be bringing in a large number of troops.  These troops
could be used for security and would be beyond our control
sheerly by their numbers.  Whether they were Navy or not."
      "That doesn't concern us . . . yet," Ikari said, he seemed
to concentrate on something Kaji couldn't see, "How do we deal
with our internal security concerns.  If SEELE can strike at the
pilots, they can strike at more sensitive areas."
      "I have people I can trust looking into that," Kaji assured
him, hoping the man would believe him.
      "If they could get in, they could cause trouble we could not
compensate for, or conceal."  He returned his full attention to
Kaji.
      "I understand."
      "I thought you would be concerned about Miss Langley."
      Kaji snorted.  "As a pilot, yes, but she has more than
enough people looking after her."   The last thing I need is her
clinging to me while I try to do my job, he thought, And you
think I'm being callous to her, or not taking an opportunity to
control her better.  I have other, more reliable tools.   "The
Mija operations continue unabated.  The books you've been after
are on their way, and the special shipment is aboard the carrier.
Although I suspect that young Davis's powder may be a safer and
more stable alternative."
      "Wouldn't a pilot make themselves immune to such a
chemical?" Ikari asked with a smile.
      Probably not, Kaji thought, Just to reassure us he's 'on our
side'.   "Maybe, maybe not," Kaji answered.   Is that respect I
hear Ikari? Kaji wondered, Something to look into.  Like where
you've been disappearing to on your `special project`, the one
the Admiral set on you.   "I think SEELE did not send the
attackers, I'd call it a misfire, someone sent them without the
high command officially sending the order.  The entire committee
could deny what happened.  To prevent anything from coming back
at them."
      "Assuming the committee placed that team here in the first
place," Ikari corrected.
      True, the committee and their spokesmen aren't the same,
Kaji thought and considered the implications.
      "The entirety of the situation concerns me.  Is this a
diversion from something else?"  Ikari gestured at the Sephiroth,
indicating its many hidden meanings.
      "I haven't found anything," Kaji said, "But I'll look into
the chance that someone . . . or something, is trying to distract
us from its real objective.  I'll also check to make sure that
they haven't already succeeded."  He made a list of sources, and
what would get back to the Committee through him.
      Ikari nodded, dismissing him.
      As Kaji walked down the corridor, he hid his own smile.
He'll never see the truth until it's right on top of him, Kaji
thought, Then it will be too late.
------------------------------