"<PRISONER ON DECK!!!>"
A sudden hush fell upon the dining facility patrons as the burly
military police sergeant barked out with a distinctly sadistic glee the
announcement that Mousse was coming. Soldiers and techs alike cleared
a path from the doors to the chow line as the clink of leg irons rattled
on the polished tile floor. The normally chatty lunch hour became silent
save only for the occasional clatter of cookware from the kitchens.
None dared to look Mousse in the eye as he walked in from the foyer
in the company of two military police escorts. His face betrayed no shame
as he brought his manacled hands up to the registration desk and signed his
name carefully on the log for that day's meal. An MP countersigned for him,
and then he was led past the young and pretty recruit manning the sign-in
post. She watched him go with a mixture of pity and dread.
Since the chow line had cleared out ahead, it was a straight shot to
the meal that awaited him. He had a choice to make. If he openly declared
to the troops in attendance at the meal that Shampoo did not, and would not
ever love him, he would be fed as any other soldier of the Commonwealth. If
he chose instead to cling to his so-called delusions, his usual prison fare
would await.
He chose Shampoo.
The pimply-faced mess-crank behind the serving line hastily prepared
a bowl of plain white rice and set it on a plastic tray. Mousse accepted it
wordlessly and continued on to take a glass of ice water for himself. The
troops in the dining facility muttered and shook their heads in a melange
of sympathy and contempt.
There were no empty tables available at the height of the lunch hour,
but a sharp glance from the MPs cleared several of their junior enlisted
diners within seconds. Mousse now had a table to himself that normally
seated twelve, and a one-table cordon of isolation beyond. His captors
remained standing behind him.
Lacking any chopsticks with which to eat, Mousse was forced to use
his fingers. This he did with as much dignity as he could manage, taking
great care not to rattle his double manacle chains on the table. He ignored
the stares that he drew from the others, and he ate quietly, ensuring that
not a grain was missed. It would be his only meal of the day.
He had endured three weeks of this without vocal complaint, though his
strength was sapped with hunger and his body wracked with pain from the
abuse of his jailors. The assault on his pride that was his daily meal was
merely the accidental result of a base with no dedicated facilities for
housing and feeding prisoners, but was certainly within the scope of the
punishment meted out to him by Herb.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him beg for mercy.
Especially Herb, who was keeping a close watch over him, waiting for him to
break. The torture he had endured wasn't enough for the general; Herb wanted
to extinguish his spirit as the price for betrayal. Herb was going to have
to get used to disappointment.
There were only nine days left to his confinement, which was nothing
after the last twenty-one. What the next two years as a prisoner in the
Dok To Correctional Custody Battalion would bring, he did not know, but he
would survive that too. No matter what he faced he would endure. For Shampoo
he would suffer anything.
He did not doubt that Shampoo would come to love him some day. She
had to realize sooner or later that he loved her above all else, and come
to value that love for the treasure that it was. When she finally came
around, he would be there for her. To do that, he had to survive Dok To.
His rice was finished, giving him just enough time to gulp down his
water before being jerked to his feet by one of the MPs. He collected his
dishes quietly and proceeded to the scullery, where he placed them upon a
green conveyer belt. The exit was only a few steps beyond, and soon he
would be back in his tiny holding cell - a cell normally reserved for those
facing their imminent execution; for the spectrum of punishment among the
Joketsuzoku often ran to extremes.
The MPs shoved him through the door, tripping his shackled legs up
and sending him sprawling into the mud beyond. His manacled wrists ached
from the impact, as he had been forced to catch himself in an awkward
manner. As he struggled to his feet and wiped the mud off his face with
his hands, he looked to the hazy Lightoller sky and vowed revenge upon
Herb.
To do that, he would have to survive. Survive here on Lightoller,
and survive on Dok To. When Shampoo was his bride, vengeance would indeed
be his.
____________________________________________________________________________
J. Austin Wilde and Fission Park Press proudly present:
BATTLETECH: THE SAOTOME GAMBIT
PART FIVE
by J. Austin Wilde
Safety Control Rod Axe Man,
Fission Park Press
wild...@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.
___________________________________________________________________________
General Herb switched off the monitor for the dining facility
surveillance system and shook his head in wonderment. The contemptible
fool remained unbowed. Was he actually that delusional, or was this merely
a show of the same defiance that had landed him in hack?
He could have made arrangements to have Mousse served in his cell, but
on the whole, he had thought this way would have been more entertaining. He
had the idea that Putting Mousse on display before the troops would be good
for discipline, and would allow him the pleasure of observing his daily
punishment. Mousse's defiance had made it something of a disappointment.
The rest of his day didn't promise to be any more encouraging. The HPG
dispatch he just received from Jusenkyo had left him in an uneasy humor. For
some reason Cologne wanted additional information regarding the break-in at
the Labs on the eleventh. She was sniffing for something, and he had the
idea it was blood. His blood.
A sudden harrowing thought had occured to him in the wake of the
message, and he had sent his henchmen, Lime and Mint, out to the map
reference where Shampoo claimed to have killed the intruders. A salvage
crew had recovered the wreck some time ago, without finding any remains.
There were some blood stains in the driver's compartment, but nothing that
would indicate a body. Even an intense fire would have left small fragments
of bone, and the ATV had not suffered such a fire.
The indigenous scavengers of Lightoller were capable of hauling away
the corpses. They were known to be practically fearless of humans and their
technology, and they were active in the area. It was quite possible that
they had struck before the salvage crew arrived. Herb did reluctantly admit
to himself that he had been slow in dispatching them to the scene, though he
justified this with his immediate efforts to find the holes in the Labs'
security arrangements - an arguably more important affair in light of
Shampoo's assurances that the intruders were dead.
Lime and Mint had reported back that there was no sign of any bodies
at the scene, and that the tracks of the salvage crew plus the heavy rains
of late had obscured any evidence of survivors leaving the scene. The only
place the survivors could have gone was the starport, and by the time the
alert had reached the security there, several ships had lifted for the long
journey to the jumppoints. The trail was cold.
He should have known better than to trust Shampoo at her word! In a
matter such as this, he was ultimately responsible. It did not matter that
the person telling him the intruders were dead was the favorite of the
Matriarch - if anything it should have made him wary.
He had expected the bad news from the moment he sent the two out on
their errand. The question now was whether or not it was simply a matter of
Shampoo bungling the pursuit or was it something more sinister - perhaps
part of a complicated scheme designed to remove him from command.
He cast this second notion aside. Cologne did not operate that way.
If she wanted him removed, she would have done so. Still, she needed a
motivation for her odd demand. Perhaps she had discovered something about
the two mercenaries that were known to have escaped. Why more direct action
to eliminate them had not been authorized by the Council, he did not know.
What the Matriarch knew was still a mystery to him, and so he was left
with a reply to her. It might prove to be quite an embarrassment to the
prima donna Shampoo to have failed in such a spectacular fashion. It might
even be suitable revenge for her escape from Lightoller. Of course, it
would also be seen as a personal failure on his part to have let this
mistake go unnoticed and unreported for so long. He would have to word his
report carefully so as to shift maximum responsibilty onto Shampoo while
minimizing his own exposure - and, to top it off, to keep from looking
vindictive so as to avoid provoking the Matriarch. It was a tall order,
but he felt he was up to it.
His only comfort for the day was knowing that Mousse was going to
be departing for Dok To even sooner than expected. The starship bound for
the Periphery had arrived ahead of schedule. He had to give the stubborn
fool credit for his strong will, for he had not yet broken. Perhaps it
would take a year or two on the cold forbidding tundra of Dok To to make
him see the light, and realize that Shampoo's love was only a fantasy.
A comm tone sounded at his desk, and he sat up in his chair to
answer it. Doctor Gaido appeared on the screen, his pudgy face showing
signs of anxiety. That was never a good thing.
"<What is it?>" he demanded. Gaido could be such a pain in the ass
sometimes.
"<I have urgent orders from the capitol, General,>" he replied.
Herb frowned. What was Gaido doing getting orders that didn't pass
through him first?
"<Don't keep me waiting, Doctor. I'm a busy man.>"
Gaido was visibly sweating on the monitor display. "<You're still
keeping Mechwarrior Mousse under guard, aren't you, General?>" he asked.
Herb began to scowl. What the hell was going on...?
"<Yes I am. Only he has been provisionally stripped of his mechwarrior
status, and is awaiting transfer to the Dok To Correctional Custody Unit.
What's it to you, Doctor?>"
Gaido cleared his throat before responding.
"<I have orders from the Council of Elders to present Mechwarrior
Mousse for final selection status in the Breeding Program. He needs to
report to the capitol as soon as possible.>"
Herb nearly choked.
"<HIM?>" he barked. "<For the Breeding Program? You must be joking!
That insubordinate half-blind idiot was disqualified when he was a child!>"
Gaido shrugged. "<I have been informed by the primary breeding
computers tracking the Program that Mechwarrior Mousse represents a vital
genetic addition to the next generation of mechwarriors,>" he replied.
"<I dutifully reported this to the capitol, and they have made their
wishes for Mechwarrior Mousse known.>"
Herb could not believe this. "<Does Cologne want a generation of
witless nearsighted fools commanding her battlemech forces?>" he asked
incredulously. "<Are you certain that Mousse was named by the Program
computers? There has to be a mistake.>"
Gaido nodded. "<It's all very clear, General. I will send you copies
of the computer determination and the Council's orders at once.>"
Herb continued to reel at this news, but he was not through protesting.
"<Why wasn't this routed through me as Mousse's commanding officer?>"
"<Breeding Program concerns are part of the Jusenkyo Laboratory
research,>" Gaido offered. "<As head of the Research Department, it would
go through me.>"
Herb rolled his eyes in disgust. The Breeding Program's chain of
command was a nuisance to field-oriented commanders like himself. He
slammed his desk in anger.
He did not want to let Mousse go. He wasn't finished with him for
one thing, and for another the man could prove to be an embarrassment so
close to the Council's ears. Though his maneuver with Shampoo was perfectly
legal, it was a bit underhanded, and he did not need vengeful corroboration
of whatever story she might have cooked up for Cologne.
"<General Herb?>" Gaido asked when Herb did not respond.
"<I'll have it taken care of,>" Herb replied with a scowl.
"<Thank you, General. I would like to examine Mechwarrior Mousse
prior to his departure, and as soon as possible would be best.>"
I'll just bet, Herb thought darkly, and disconnected.
Doctor Gaido switched off the phone and sat back in his chair. Beads
of sweat trickled down his brow. He was not cut out for subterfuge. He
doubted that Herb was capable of detecting the subtle trickery required
to jigger the computers into thinking Mousse was a highly desired addition
to the Breeding Program, but there were other ways to detect treachery.
At least Herb's hands were tied with a computer investigation. Even
if he made an effort to look - which Gaido doubted since most Joketsuzoku,
Herb included, tended to view the Breeding Program as an unimpeachable work
of science - he lacked techs with the skills and familiarity with the
ancient computers to succeed.
Gaido was the only person left alive who knew how the system really
worked, and he had been careful to let Herb know this at every opportunity.
As additional insurance, he had never bothered to train a replacement. It
was risky to the Commonwealth's future, as he was getting on in years, but
it beat finding a poisoned dagger in his back one night.
All this being true, he did not like being Cologne's pawn against
Herb. He owed his entire career to her of course, but crossing the hybrid
general was extremely dangerous - as Mousse had learned the hard way. Why
Cologne wanted Mousse out of Herb's clutches, Gaido could only guess, but
it was even money that he was eventually going to be used against the
general. He hoped the final showdown would happen somewhere other than
Lightoller.
He realized a power struggle that would shake the very foundations
of their culture was inevitable. The Commonwealth's radical Breeding
Program had created two distinct classes within the Joketsuzoku. The
matriarchal hierarchy of the clan was rooted in four thousand years of
tradition, and though it was rigid and unyielding, it had endured through
ages of empires, foreign domination, the brief flirtation with communism,
and ultimately the perils of interstellar colonization. Those obstacles had
all been external threats, something the insular Joketsuzoku had been able
to fend off. Their undoing could come only from within, and they had been
breeding and nurturing it for a century.
Herb was not the first of the new second class, the hybrids, to dare
challenge even peripherally the authority of the Matriarchy, but he was the
first one to have risen so far in the ranks. Perhaps it was because most of
the hybrids were male that they chafed under the yoke of the Elders. Their
loyalties naturally tended towards their own kind, rather than towards the
exclusive sisterhood of the Joketsuzoku. He had even heard whispers of a
'Musk Dynasty' among them, a seditious organization that couldn't possibly
have escaped the notice of the Council, yet still went unexposed and
unpunished.
Cologne and the rest of the Council of Elders thought the answer lay
in the hands of a hybrid they felt they could control. Gaido wasn't as
certain. When Saffron was mature, he would be an order of magnitude more
powerful than Herb, the current acme of the Program's hybrids, and one who
was capable of almost casual projection of lethal chi-abilities. Saffron
in comparison would be almost a god by any reasonable index of human
potential.
How do you control a god?
Chapter Two
Army Group 'B' Headquarters, The Hotel Lyonne
Planet Viridian, Alpha Canaris System
The League of Five Nails
25 February 3025
Hikaru Gosunkugi was a nervous wreck, and even more sunken-eyed than
usual. Grand Duke Tendo had surprised them all with his declaration, and
to Hikaru's horror, had engaged his beautiful daughter to an unknown
mechwarrior named Ranma Saotome! To make matters worse, Tsubasa had failed
spectacularly in his mission to kidnap Akane, and had probably stirred up
a massive political hornet's nest in the process.
Had all his prayers and sacrifices been for naught? Would his parents
discover his plottings and step in against him? Was he damned to spend the
next six months grounded to his room for this failure?
His cousin could see the play of horror, sorrow, and regret across
his face and cleared his throat to speak.
"The responsibility is mine, cousin," Tetsuo declared solemnly.
Hikaru looked up from his astrological charts and frowned.
"If anyone failed us, it was that fool Tsubasa," he returned. His
blood boiled with rage at the bumbling transvestite. There would be more
than a few hexes cast tonight... "But still, we should have read the
horoscope with more than half an eye. Our failure was in fact foretold.
It's in here somewhere, but somehow we missed it."
Tetsuo cocked his head. "I still don't believe that this Ranma Saotome
fellow is anything more than a clever fraud meant to throw us off-balance."
"You see!" Hikaru cried, at last understanding exactly how they had
failed. "The Equus Nebula! We see and yet we are blind!"
"Say again, cousin?"
Hikaru pointed to the horoscope they had cast before answering Nabiki's
summons to Nerima. "Ran-Ma... 'Wild Horse.' The Equus or 'Horse' Nebula." He
looked up for a moment before turning upon Tetsuo. "What did you say Ranma's
father's name was?"
"Genma," Testuo replied, at last understanding. "'Dark Horse'... Yes,
I see it now. The conflict provided by the Equus Nebula-Capella-Sagittarius
Dwarf Galaxy triad was a direct warning to us and we missed it." He hung
his head in shame.
"It couldn't be helped," Hikaru returned, steadying his cousin. "Who
could have known that the gods would be so literal?" He looked down at the
horoscope again. "And yet we can draw hope from this."
"How, cousin?"
"By this horoscope it is clear that the gods are speaking to us. We'll
just have to pay closer attention in order to divine the correct message."
Hikaru's proposal seemed most reasonable, and the matter was tabled
until further study and meditation revealed answers. They had more immediate
problems to face, and they concerned the Furinkan Combine.
"There's no question of a force buildup on the Combine border," he told
his cousin. He shuffled through a huge stack of reports from his J-2, or
Army Group Intelligence section. "Message traffic has tripled in the last
ten days, and independent shipping as far as St. Ives has been pulled in
on contract with the Combine for transport of supplies."
"Leaving the Combine's JumpShips free to haul troops," Testuo observed
dryly.
"The real question is where are they going to hit?" Hikaru went on.
"Tatewaki's got to be angry with the Duke over this Saotome fellow
getting Akane," Tetsuo pointed out. "A massive attack on the Confederation
worlds he can reach in one Jump would seem to be the likely answer. You
know how single-minded he can be."
Hikaru wasn't so sure. The Confederation knew their defense rested on
these One-Jump systems, and had almost eighty percent of their armed forces
garrisoned there. It was the only reason Tatewaki Kuno hadn't conquered the
Confederation. Even a single-minded blowhard like him had to realize that
after five years of trying.
He picked up one of his namesake nails and fiddled with it in his
hands. It helped him to relax, and it opened his mind to possibilities.
"Let's say Kuno is really pissed," he broached.
"Okay," Tetsuo agreed. "Let's."
"He wants to pay the Duke back for engaging Akane to this Saotome
creep."
Tetsuo nodded. "I'm with you so far, cousin."
Hikaru rolled the nail around in his fingers, clumsily dropping it
several times, but not letting it get to him. He was on to something.
"What's the fastest way to get a large force within range of the
Capella system?"
Tetsuo studied the starchart before them. As the thickness of the
Orion spiral arm in the vicinity of Sol was less than thirty parsecs, a
two-dimensional map was sufficient for the task of representing the Inner
Sphere. There were several systems at the end of Kuno's potential One-Jump
range that would put him within one jump of Capella.
"I see at least three places where he can hit and be within range to
strike Capella at will."
Hikaru shook his head. "And the Confederation knows that. Those three
systems are armed to the teeth and garrisoned with highly motivated troops.
He could try for them, but it would be a meat-grinder. They might even break
with convention and go for his JumpShips if it looked like he was going to
succeed."
"Then I don't understand what you're getting at, cousin," Tetsuo
replied.
"What if he tried for an end-run around these heavily protected
systems?" Hikaru proposed. His sunken eyes seemed to flash with inspiration.
Tetsuo looked at the chart again.
"But that would mean attacking into either the Federated Shiratori at
Merkesh, or hitting us at Capra..."
Hikaru nodded. "There are advantages to both places. The Federated
Shiratori forces won't be expecting an attack from the Combine, but Capra
is lightly garrisoned."
"Assuming you're correct, which one will he hit?"
Hikaru closed his eyes and lifted his hand over the chart. He let the
nail drop onto the table, where it embedded itself firmly in the heartland
of the League of Five Nails. The gods had spoken.
"We're going to Capra," he announced. "I want to give Kuno the
surprise of his life."
Chapter Three
Azure Cloud Castle
Planet Nerima, Capella System
Nerima Confederation
25 February 3025
Akane didn't spend more than a night in her room before being removed
to the lonely South Tower for her 'safety.' The South Tower was a stone
ediface of hard and skillfully-dressed granite that perched well above the
castle upon the mountain, and was accessable only by a long and winding
passageway, carved within the living rock, that linked it to the keep. For
protection against airborne assault, the stone walls and sharply sloping
tile of the tower's roof were lined with battlemech armor, and an array of
point defense laser and autocannon weapons could be deployed within moments
of an attack warning.
Spending time in the South Tower meant that anyone who wanted to get
close to Akane would have to pass the guards and maglocked gates placed at
the bottom of the passageway - and the entire garrison of the castle keep -
traverse the narrow and winding stone stairs, and then face the guards and
a further maglocked gate at the top of the passageway. It was either that
or scale the three hundred meters of nearly sheer rock face from the castle.
This was a place the Tendos of old had used as a prison or as an asylum for
their estranged relatives from time to time, and its heritage was not lost
upon Akane.
For obvious reasons, she did not receive many visitors. Somehow Kasumi
managed to climb those thousands of lonely steps twice a day to visit,
though Akane sensed that her sister's devotion was driven by more than a
little guilt. Dad had decided to move her to the Tower while the castle was
being swept for more spies, and Kasumi had not objected.
She understood her father's concerns, but that did not make her stay
in such a creepy place any easier. Though the Tower was spacious and well
appointed for her, it also had a musty smell that no amount of fresh air
from the tall French-style windows could displace. It was the smell of
murder and madness from the early days of the Confederation, when her
ancestors had collectively gone insane and turned upon each other at the
beginning of the First Succession War. The current gloomy future of the
Confederation was in no small part due to their fratricidal and self-
destructive power struggles. This while the other Great Houses were busy
consolidating their territories and seizing Star League assets.
She did not know how much longer she would have to stay a prisoner
of the Tower, and she did not like it one bit. If anyone deserved to be
locked up, it was Nabiki. Instead, Dad had sent her away to tour the Tendo
family holdings - mostly in the Ceres Metals Corporation, an industrial
conglomerate that dated back to the pre-Jump era. It served as the
backbone for Tendo wealth that made them a Great House so many centuries
ago - and had kept them great to the present day.
So while she played solitaire and practiced her katas in the dreaded
South Tower, Nabiki got to tour the Confederation aboard the family's
private JumpShip! Where was the justice in that? She had played along with
the stupid engagement, even if she didn't like it. Nabiki had all but
mutinied against Dad, and she got to spend a few choice months as a
privileged tourist!
Akane sank back into her chair facing the window and sighed. There
was no justice in the world. If there were, she would be out in the field
once again commanding the 1st Nerima Guards to victory over the Kunos and
their Furinkan Combine, instead of sitting here playing cards. Her red
Warhammer was probably fully restored by now, and sitting idle and useless
in the family's Armory.
Further depressing thoughts were stifled by an insistant tapping at
her window - which was impossible considering that it looked out over a
sheer drop of over three hundred meters.
She turned and looked with utter astonishment at Ranma Saotome, who
was hanging off of the stone sill of her window with one hand, while the
other gave her a casual wave.
"Ranma?" she gasped.
He motioned to the window latch. It was apparent from the urgency
in his eyes that he needed her to do something about it fairly quickly.
She leaned over and threw open the window, and Ranma pulled himself
through with a grunt to sprawl across the table and ruin her latest boring
game of solitaire.
"Thanks," Ranma panted from the table. "It was getting a little rough
out there."
Akane looked at him with wide unbelieving eyes.
"How on earth did you get here?" she demanded.
He pulled himself upright on the table and swung his legs over to
dangle before her. "I climbed," he said, still panting for breath. He
motioned with his chin to his bandaged left arm. "It was pretty rough
going with one arm at only fifty percent, but what the heck, training is
training, as Pop always says."
Akane's eyes bugged out.
"You *free-climbed* a three-hundred meter cliff? With only one
good arm?"
Ranma rubbed at his left bicep. The bandages on his forearm were
starting to bleed through in places with serum and other fluids.
"It's no big deal," he replied casually. "I've done bigger, and in
higher gravity fields than Nerima. The rock out there is actually pretty
good for this sort of thing. It's fissured enough for a straightforward
ascent, but stable enough to hold weight."
"But weren't you afraid of falling?"
He shrugged. "A little," he admitted grudgingly. "But it's not
something you think about, or else you'll never make the climb."
She gave him an incredulous look. He was totally nuts. Certifiable.
"Just what possessed you to risk your neck coming up here, anyway?"
"I dunno," he said with a shrug. "I heard you were locked up in this
tower, and I was getting bored down in the infirmary, so I thought I'd
come up here and see how you were doing."
"It's just as boring up here," Akane replied sullenly. She looked at
his left arm again, and the bloodstains that were starting to spread on
the bandages. "Aren't you supposed to be taking care of that?" she asked,
pointing at the arm.
Ranma looked down. He *had* overdone it a little. Hopefully he hadn't
screwed up the skin grafts. "Just got a little carried away," he replied
sheepishly.
"What an idiot," she spat.
Ranma looked up at her as if he had been struck. "Hey!" he protested.
"Maybe you'd prefer it if I just left you then?" He pulled a playing card
out from under his thigh and showed it to her. "That way you could get back
to your exciting game of cards."
Akane felt her anger rising. Just who did this jerk think he was?
Coming and going whenever he pleased - even if it meant reinjuring himself
just so he could show off!
"Go then!" she cried. "I didn't want to see you anyway."
There was a hurt look in his eyes for just a moment, and then it was
gone. Ranma rose from the table, causing her to step back uneasily from him,
and he stretched out his arms and rotated them at the shoulders. It was
clear from his exercises that he intended to leave the way he had come.
"Just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded as he turned for
the window.
He looked over his shoulder at her. "What's it look like? You told me
to leave, so I'm doing what your royal worshipfulness says. I'm outta here."
He climbed back up on the table and started through the window, only
to be pulled back inside by Akane.
"You idiot!" she yelled worriedly. "Do you want to get yourself killed?
There's no way you can make it with your arm in that condition."
Ranma's brow furrowed at this, and he gave her a puzzled look.
"So what do you care?" he asked her defensively. "If I fall and get
creamed on the rocks, then at least YOUR problems are solved."
Her eyes flashed with ire.
"What are you talking about - 'my problems'?"
"Oh, come on, Akane," Ranma scolded. "Think about it. If I die right
now, then you don't have to worry about marrying me. End of problems."
She balled her hands up into fists and nearly shook with emotion.
"That's not fair, Ranma!" she retorted. "Just because I don't want to
marry you, doesn't mean I want to see you get yourself killed!"
Ranma cocked his head to the side and smirked. "So don't watch, okay?"
He started back towards the window.
"You are such an unbelievable jerk!" she cried, and pulled him back
once again. "Get away from that window, and come down off that table right
now!"
He was torn for a moment with the desire to throw her off and continue
on, but the truth of the matter was that his arm was really starting to hurt.
With only a token effort of resistance, he allowed himself to be pulled back
inside the room.
"Have it your way," he said to her. "Just point the way to the door
and I'll take the stairs."
Akane was only mildly relieved to see that he had given up his
ridiculous quest for suicide. "How did you ever manage to become so rude
and obnoxious?" she asked him. "Didn't your mother teach you anything?"
Ranma, who had been cocksure and full of himself until then, now looked
as if he had been hit below the belt. His ego deflated in an instant, and
for a brief moment he looked like a five-year-old on the verge of tears. He
sank down onto the table and stared into his lap.
The reaction did not go unnoticed by Akane, who found herself strangely
moved. Could this arrogant jerk actually have a side of him that wasn't
ruled by the 'Y' chromosome?
"What is it, Ranma?" she asked softly.
"No," he growled sullenly. "No, my mother *didn't* teach me anything."
His face fell into a scowl. "I haven't seen my mother since I was really
little."
So that was it, Akane thought to herself. His behavior made a lot of
sense when she considered that he must have been raised solely by his oafish,
lazy, and shiftless father.
"I know the feeling," she said to him gently. "My mother died when I
was little."
A heavy silence hung between them for a moment.
"At least it's easier for you that way," he muttered at length.
She lost all pity for him at that remark.
"What!? How can you say that?"
Ranma looked up at her with his wounded blue-grey eyes. "All I'm sayin'
is that at least you know she's gone. You can learn to cope with it and go
on with life. I'm sorry your mom died, Akane, but at least you have that
finality. I don't even have that."
Akane was struck silent by that. She didn't agree with his assessment,
but she was starting to see what made him tick. Taken from that perspective,
he wasn't nearly as bad as she had first thought. He was still a jerk, but
maybe not completely hopeless as a human being.
"Can we start over?" she asked him quietly.
He gave her a puzzled look.
"Huh?"
"Can we start over," she repeated. "I mean, before we started arguing."
He thought about what she was asking for a moment and then nodded
slowly.
"Sure. Where do you want to begin?"
She leaned forward and touched his shoulder gently with her fingertips.
"Thank you, Ranma," she whispered.
His body stiffened in surprise at her touch and he nearly jumped from
his seat on the table.
"Huh? Th-Thanks for what?" he stammered.
She stepped back and tried to smile. "For what you did in the garden.
For saving my life. I never got the chance to thank you until now, so I
was thinking that this would be the best place to start over."
He flushed red and looked down into his lap again. "It was nothing."
"It was more than nothing," she protested. "You risked your life to
help me - and you almost lost your arm because of it."
Ranma looked over at his injured arm and shrugged. "I don't know what
to say, Akane. I mean, I didn't stop to think about it or nothin'. There
wasn't time for that. I just did what I felt I had to do."
"Well thank you for doing what you felt you had to do," she replied.
She looked away for a moment before turning her soft brown eyes upon him.
"And thank you for coming up here to visit me. It was a stupid, crazy way
to do it, but I guess you're the kind of guy who doesn't stop to think
about it." She offered him a smile. "You just do what you feel you have
to do."
Ranma Saotome met Akane's gaze with his own and fought back the sudden
flush of heat in his face. It wasn't possible, was it? That this girl was
actually... Was actually... Somehow... Cute?
Akane gave him a thump on the right shoulder that nearly bowled him
over. "Now get out of here and go see Doctor Tofu, all right? You're
starting to bleed on the carpet."
Ranma grimaced. Nope. Not cute at all.
Well, maybe just a teeny tiny little bit...
* * *
Soun Tendo looked over Genma's proposal carefully. He had quite a
request list. A JumpShip plus at least one DropShip, battlemechs, some
aerospace fighters, an experienced crew, supplies, cash, and a line of
credit that wouldn't trace directly back to the Tendo family or the
Confederation government. Plus one other important item.
"I agree with you that there is an urgent need to continue the search,
Saotome, but really, why bring Akane with you?"
Genma regarded his old friend with a grave look.
"Two reasons," he began. "One is that she'll be safe with us. No one
will even know she's gone from the Tower."
Soun nodded slowly. There was a twisted logic to it, even if he felt
the risks were just as great, if not greater, as having her stay on Nerima.
There was no reason why the Combine, or the League, perhaps both, wouldn't
try again to kidnap Akane if they were able, but the risks she would face
on the expedition...
"So what's the other reason?" he pressed, having a dire need to be
convinced before he sent his little girl away for what might be a very
long time.
Genma raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it obvious, Tendo? We've got to get
Akane and the boy to know each other better - otherwise they'll fight this
engagement with their dying breaths."
Soun nodded again. "I see your point. They do seem to have a certain,
shall we say, *antagonism* towards each other."
"That's putting it mildly, I think," Genma agreed. "But the hardships
and the thrills of a life of adventure can only draw them closer, right?"
"I suppose so," Soun replied confidently. "I remember the times we
spent training together, and we're friends to this very day."
"And those weren't easy times," Genma added with a shudder. No sir.
Soun looked back over the proposal. "This is quite a list, Saotome.
It can be done, but why do you want everything procured from sources other
than the Confederation military?"
"We need to move without drawing a lot of attention. A small mercenary
force can move around throughout the Inner Sphere without raising too many
eyebrows. All we need to do is fix Ryuugenzawa's location. Once we do that,
we can return to Nerima and gather up a transport fleet big enough to haul
everything away."
Soun puffed on a cigarette as he looked over the search notebooks
Genma had been using for the last three years of his quest.
"You make it sound so simple, Saotome."
"It is, Tendo," Genma assured him. He pointed to one of the notebooks.
A photograph of a man with an enigmatic face and an oddly styled beard was
taped to the cover, for reasons lost to Soun. He bore an uncanny resemblence
to a figure on a playing card... "Why, this guy had almost all of the pieces
of the puzzle when he died," he continued. "He just didn't put them all
together."
"And how exactly did he die, Saotome?" Soun asked archly.
"Tendo!" Genma protested. "It wasn't like that at all! As far as I
could tell, he had Nevermore Fever."
Soun shuddered at the thought. Nevermore Fever was one of the more
insidious diseases to ever make its way through the Inner Sphere. You could
carry it for years without knowing, before it suddenly flared up and killed
you within hours with a massive fever spike that fried your central nervous
system.
"You *did* get tested afterwards, didn't you?" he asked Genma.
"The boy and I are clean," he replied. "It's not contagious in the
terminal stages. It's not that contagious at all, or else the entire Inner
Sphere would have been wiped out centuries ago."
"I see," Tendo intoned, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "Well,
enough of that. We've got work to do."
Chapter Four
Headquarters Company, Blue Thunder Regiment
Planet Calypso, Proteus System
Nerima Confederation
1 March 3025
"Faster, men!" Tatewaki Kuno exhorted his troops. "Let not these
cowards flee the field!"
He was having a very good day for himself, on this the first day of
his renewed campaign against the hated Nerima Confederation. Their Air
Force had put up a stiff fight in orbit over Calypso, but had been crushed
by sheer Combine numbers. Now it was the famed Blue Thunder Regiment's turn
to make the Grand Duke regret his foolhardy decision to spurn the great
Tatewaki Kuno!
His mint condition Thunderbolt battlemech led the charge against the
retreating Confederation 'mechs. With a simple thought he made the squat
65 ton juggernaut raise its glittering forged tungsten-carbide steel katana
aloft so that his enemies could see him and know that they faced the Blue
Thunder of the Furinkan Combine. They answered with hasty pulses of laser
fire and streams of autocannon shells, which he ignored for the feeble
attempts they were.
The Confederation 'mechs were clearly trying to draw his forces into
an ambush with their retreat, but he was the great Tatewaki Kuno, and would
not be so easily trapped. Even now his 3rd Battalion was closing off their
withdrawal that he might fix them against the anvil and drive home his
mighty hammer. Once they were crushed, he would have his beachhead secured,
and the subjugation of the planet could begin.
He would not be around to see it however, as he had plans elsewhere
in the Inner Sphere. He laughed with haughty pride at his cunning as his
battlemech ranged over the gently rolling farmland of Calypso. The simple-
minded Confederation forces would be allowed to see him in battle just
long enough for them to send word of his presence to their rear-areas.
They would surely send reinforcements to Calypso to dare the impossible
and defeat him, but little would they know that by then he would be in
position to strike the fatal blow against Capella!
A sudden flurry of voices over his tactical net let him know that
the trap was sprung, and the Confederation forces cut off. He could see
thin lines of black smoke rising on the horizon, punctuated by bright
flashes of light. They would not be able to break through his blocking
force, which would give them only one option: to face him in battle in
the hopes of escaping the way they had come.
"Let them come," he muttered over the command channel. His battlemech's
RCA Instatrac Mk X sensor array began to seek out targets. He was rewarded
with a lance of 'mechs cutting a diagonal course to the right across his
projected line of advance, obviously hoping to slip through the net before
it was drawn tight.
His eyes flicked to either side of his cockpit and the visual
reference displays. The rest of his company was arrayed in a skirmish
line to his left and right, centered upon him. He ordered them into an
Echelon-Right formation, and noted with pride that they executed it
flawlessly.
Long Range Missiles were coming into range, and though his Thunderbolt
had a 15-tube launcher, he held his fire. He prefered close-combat to a
sterile artillery duel. The other 'mechs in his company began to soften
up the enemy with extreme range salvos meant to throw them off-balance and
to loosen up their formation.
His threat-indicator board lit up with the warning that a Mk XII
Instatrac array was locked on to his 'mech. Its distinctive high-low-high
frequency tonals sounded in his headset; the sign that an Archer was
preparing to launch a huge spread of missiles. It was often the last
thing an inexperienced or unlucky mechwarrior ever heard.
Tatewaki Kuno was neither. He caught the flash of orange flame and
the twin puffs of smoke from the green painted Archer in plenty of time
to fix the missiles' incoming trajectory. There was no cover to be found
on the broad expanse of wheatland surrounding him, but that was of little
concern.
As the forty-missile volley reached the top of its ballistic arc, he
tightened his stomach and squeezed twin thrust studs on his control yokes.
The rare jump-capable Thunderbolt variant surged aloft on two plumes of
superheated air. The stubby battlemech soared up and to the right, clearing
the impact point of the missiles and keeping him on track with his Archer
adversary.
Kuno's Thunderbolt touched down as the missiles exploded well behind
him in a cataclysmic burst of fire, smoke, and clods of earth. His 'mech
was silhouetted in the flames for an instant, its gleaming katana shining
blood red on high. He hoped the effect was suitably intimidating.
Lines of laser light criss-crossed the battlefield now as his company
and the fleeing lance became fully engaged. The range was still as far as
four hundred meters, though that would change within moments. Whether it
would turn into a brawl depended on the skill, or perhaps nerve, of his
opponents.
Kuno observed one of the Confederation 'mechs explode to his right as
his fire lance bracketed it with missiles. His target Archer was still
moving out in front of him, its radar painting him, though his surprise
jump capability had obviously given the enemy mechwarrior pause. Let him
regret that the remainder of his short life, he mused, and triggered his
heavy laser.
The cobalt blue beam of light lanced into the Archer's midsection,
burning a long streak that reached from the torso to the shoulder joint.
He fired a second time as the Confederation pilot got up the nerve to
shoot back. The beam tore into the shoulder armor with a spray of sparks,
and then the twin Doombud launchers released their lethal cargo of high
explosives.
The range for this volley was much shorter than the first volley,
and the trajectory flatter. He jumped again, keeping his altitude low
and his motion vector forward. The missiles dropped around his 'mech
with tooth-rattling *whomps,* spanging off his pristine armor and
gouging small craters. Only a handful had struck him, and nothing had
penetrated his Thunderbolt's excellent armor, but the attack had wounded
his pride.
"Cur!" he swore to the Archer pilot. "Thou shalt pay in kind for
such effrontery!"
The triple medium laser array on his mech's left torso and the heavy
laser outboard the right arm blazed forth a salvo of coherent death. The
brilliant pulses of light slashed through the Archer's exposed right hip
and knee joints, and engulfed the limb in a nimbus of flame. Tatewaki
fired off another salvo, heedless of his rising waste heat status, and
noted with grim satisfaction as the beams shattered what little remained
of the armor and bit into vital components.
The Archer staggered as its right leg was immobilized, slewing
suddenly to the right and face on with Kuno's Thunderbolt. A twin salvo
of medium laser fire answered his barrage, but Kuno was wroth and did not
heed the beams that crazed his Thunderbolt's torso. Instead, he lit his
jump jets for the killing blow.
The Thunderbolt again lurched skyward, its katana raised overhead to
strike. Though the sky was cloudless, a bolt of blue lightning seared the
heavens above and behind his battlemech.
"Feel the wrath of the Hundred Blows!" he cried out over the enemy
tactical frequency.
The Thunderbolt fell upon the Archer, its katana cleaving again and
again with mind-numbing speed into the crippled battlemech. Kuno punctuated
each blow with a shout, and the flurry of strikes came at an impossible
rate. The superhard blade bit deep into armor, severed vital linkages, and
cut apart critical systemry.
The attack ended as swiftly as it had begun. The Thunderbolt stood
proudly over the mutilated Archer as it crumbled into a pile of smoking
scrap metal. Flames licked up from the ruins, glinting off the katana.
Tatewaki Kuno looked over his handiwork and saw that it was good.
There was only one enemy battlemech remaining; a Valkyrie missing an arm
and trailing smoke from the destroyed missile launcher.
"Let yonder Valkyrie flee unhindered!" he ordered his troops. There
had to be a survivor to tell the tale of his mighty victory this day. His
men complied unquestioningly. The Valkyrie pilot did not question his good
fortune either, and sped from the fray with all haste.
"Get thee hence to thy commanders," he said to the fleeing 'mech over
the Confederation frequencies. "Tell them that they face the Blue Thunder
of the Furinkan Combine! Let them come forth upon their knees and beg for
mercy! The Blue Thunder will hear their pleas for clemency!"
* * *
Tatewaki Kuno stood through the open hatch of his Thunderbolt to watch
the regiment load into its DropShips. Repairs and rearming would have to
take place in space, as there was not time to dawdle if he wished to spring
his trap. He did not expect a significant battle at his next destination
anyway.
The battles for Calypso, however, had only begun. He intended to allow
the Confederation to put up a good fight in order to draw off reinforcements
from deeper within their territory. By the time they realized that they had
fallen for his ruse, he would be in position for the fatal blow.
Grand Duke Tendo would be brought to heel, Akane would be his bride,
and the Confederation ceded to him without Nabiki's treacherous assistance.
Her honeyed words had left him feeling ill at ease during the trip from
Sol, and he had decided upon a more honorable course of action. It was
fitting and noble for the future First Lord of the Star League to conquer
his foes by force of arms, not black-handed treachery.
Nabiki would have to be dealt with. He had a mind to have her quietly
strangled after the conquest, though he would have to let events take their
natural course and determine later whether this was necessary. Doubtless
she would try to ingratiate herself with her new lord, but now he was justly
wary of her.
Perhaps eliminating her would be best after all.
Chapter Five
Tendo Family Armory, Azure Cloud Castle
Planet Nerima, Capella System
Nerima Confederation
1 March 3025
Ranma Saotome followed after his father, the Grand Duke, Kasumi,
and Akane as they toured the family's armory. He had never seen so much
hardware in one place before, and was more than a little envious. It did
not help that Akane was so eager to point out the abundance of spare parts
and 'mech stores. She didn't seem like she was trying to rub it in, but
part of him tensed up any time she mentioned how quickly the family's techs
could rebuild a battlemech.
He also tensed up when they passed the Tendo family's stockpile of
nuclear weapons. They were securely entombed within a meter thick case-
hardened steel vault, guarded at all hours of the day, and electronically
locked down by a code sequence that only the Duke and Kasumi knew, but they
still gave him the creeps. The use of nuclear weapons, even in deep space,
had been outlawed by the Ares Conventions, but the Great Houses had held
on to their stockpiles as insurance against any state unscrupulous enough
to use them in spite of the ban.
He risked a quick look at Akane when they passed the nuke storage.
If he ended up marrying her - which was unlikely, but a disturbing
possibility - then some day all of those hydrogen bombs would become his
to command. It was a frightening thought, but most uncomfortable of all
was his sudden realization that he did not know if he possessed the nerve
to dispose of them for good.
Akane must have noticed his unease, for she gave him a sympathetic
look. What was with her anyway? Always running hot and cold. Angry and
then friendly. It made him wonder if she needed medication for her
condition, or if girls in general were like that. A life on the move,
spent mostly as a DropShip stowaway, or training in the martial arts, or
getting shot at by some local security force, had not been very helpful
in regards to understanding girls.
His father hadn't been very helpful either. A strip joint was no place
to break your son to the news that girls and boys were different, and
definitely not when the son was only eight years old. The most Ranma had
been able to get from his father was that women were okay when you needed
a little attention (whatever that meant), but in general were just whiney,
hypersensitive, overly emotional, and more trouble than they were worth.
He looked at Akane again. She was definitely hypersensitive. Decomposed
Semtex charges were more stable than her. Overly emotional - check. She
wasn't all that whiney, preferring instead to scream and shout. More trouble
than she was worth?
She smiled at him, making him turn away in a rush, and earning a
snicker from her.
The jury was still out on that one...
They stopped before a series of 'mech hangars cut deep into the living
rock of the mountain. The Grand Duke turned to regard the two Saotomes.
"Genma, my old friend. You don't know how sorry I am to hear that you
had to scrap your family's battlemech."
Genma made an uninspired grunt, though his eyes sparkled with greed.
Soun continued. "I happen to have a Griffin in good condition that
was passed down from my mother's side of the family. I would be honored
if you would take it into battle once again."
Genma nodded casually, as if he had been expecting this.
"I'd be honored to accept it, Tendo."
"Splendid!"
Soun turned to Kasumi, who would take care of the particulars of
transfer. Then he gestured to one of the hangar bay doors, which began
to roll up into the ceiling at his cue.
"And for my future son-in-law..."
Ranma froze up. His own battlemech? His heart raced at the possibility,
but wouldn't that commit him to marrying Akane? The idea suddenly started
losing its appeal. He was not going to get bribed into marrying her. No
way.
Then he saw what it was that waited for him within the hangar.
"It's a rare variant," Soun declared. "I must confess that these are
so rare in the Confederation that this one hasn't seen much prior use. The
weapons loadout sacrificed the machineguns in favor of a twin-rack SRM in
the left forearm, but I'm sure that won't be a problem, will it, son?"
Ranma Saotome looked upon a PHX-HK2S Phoenix Hawk Land Air Mech. It
squatted in airmech mode like a bird of prey tensed to strike. The red and
black paint gleamed under the hangar lights. It was magnificent.
"Uh... No... Not at all..." he droned in awe.
"If you must know, it was Akane who suggested it to me," Soun added.
Ranma turned slowly to Akane, who blushed and looked at the ceiling
with an innocent smile. He turned back to the LAM.
"You're just giving it to me?" he asked the Duke.
Soun nodded. "Of course, son. I can't have any mechwarrior son of
mine going without a battlemech, can I?"
It keeps coming back to that 'son' thing, doesn't it? Ranma thought
bitterly. The Phoenix Hawk cried out to him, but...
"I don't know if I can accept it," he said quietly. He wanted to
kick himself. He would never get a chance at a 'mech like this ever again.
"Nonsense, Ranma," Soun replied. "I insist."
"Don't embarrass me, boy," Genma added in a warning tone.
"Ranma!" Akane protested.
He gave them all uneasy looks.
"I haven't said that I was going to marry Akane," he began. A harsh
look at his father cut him off before he could protest. "And I don't want
it to look like I'm being bribed into doing it. If you want to let me
pilot a 'mech, how about lending it to me instead?"
Soun's brow furrowed. Ranma's resistance to the engagement was
irritating, but he saw the boy's point. There was no harm in humoring him,
he supposed.
"Very well, then," he said genially. "I would be happy to let you
borrow the 'mech for the duration of your expedition, with no strings
attached. Accept it with my compliments."
Ranma felt a wave of relief wash over him. They weren't going to hold
it over his head. He stepped forward and shook the Duke's hand.
Genma chuckled at this.
"Well, now that that's settled, we can get down to some serious
business."
"You mean lunch, Saotome?" Soun asked with a grin.
"You got it, Tendo!"
Kasumi rolled her eyes in amusement. "I'll call up to the pantry,
Father."
The three started for the elevators, leaving Ranma and Akane alone
before the Phoenix Hawk.
"So," Akane began. "You like it?"
Ranma gave her a sidelong glance. "It ain't half-bad," he replied.
"So what's the big idea with you telling your father about this?"
Akane crossed her eyes in ire.
"Does everything have to have an ulterior motive for you?" she asked
him tersely. "I was just trying to be nice. Is that a problem, Ranma?"
Her response stung him.
"Well?" she pressed.
He didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject.
"So, what do I have to do to take this thing out for a test flight?"
He heard her knuckles crack as she squeezed her hands into fists.
"Damn you, Ranma!" she cried. "You are the most pig-headed, egotistical
jerk I have ever met! Can't you for once accept the fact that not everyone
is trying to manipulate you, or out to get you? I mean, the nerve of you
suggesting that this was some kind of bribe to get you to marry me?!"
He whirled on her. "You might not have meant it that way," he retorted.
"But I know how my old man thinks, and I know your old man wants us to get
hitched, so yeah, I do think that was what they meant!"
Fire flashed in Akane's eyes.
"How dare you accuse my father of something like that!"
He didn't know what hit him until much later, when Kasumi cheerfully
suggested that he see Doctor Tofu about the prominent red hand print on his
cheek.
Chapter Six
Eight Shining Pearls Fortress
Planet Jusenkyo, Jusenkyo System
Jusenkyo Commonwealth
2 March 3025
Shampoo soaked in the steamy waters of the spa, enjoying the heat and
letting it work into her tired muscles. She had been training hard ever
since her return to Jusenkyo from Lightoller, mostly to get her mind off
the place, and especially Herb. As for Mousse, she felt sorry for him, but
tempered this with the knowledge that he was aware of the consequences of
his actions.
In spite of this, she couldn't help but feel guilty about him. He
wouldn't have helped her at the cost of his own career if he hadn't been
in love with her. It was maddening, because at any time in her life she had
never given him any indication that she loved him, or ever would.
She lay back in the waters and sipped at a restorative drink. She
hadn't set out to think about Mousse, but the fool had managed to intrude
into her life even here. What she needed to consider was her own career.
She did not yet have a unit to call her own. For reasons unknown, her
great-grandmother was content to keep her out of the regular Commonwealth
Army command structure, using her to 'fight fires' here and there, though
in many cases it was simply running errands.
Her status as Cologne's errand girl wasn't for a lack of experience
or of talent. She had fought in numerous small battles and raids, and had
swept the Joketsuzoku fighting tournaments that she had entered, but she
longed for real combat, against the real enemies of the Commonwealth.
Punitive raids and skirmishes in the Periphery were for amateurs, and she
was tired of her amateur status.
She wanted to tangle with the Combine.
It wasn't necessary to remind her that open war with the Combine was
not currently in the Commonwealth's best interests, for she had listened
well in her Strategic Assessment courses. That did not mean that small
unconventional actions were not possible. She would kill for a command in
a SpecWar regiment posted to the Combine border.
Though she was only a Mechwarrior, she knew in her heart that she had
what it took to command. She preferred tactical level actions rather than
the heavy planning and logistics of a theater level battle, and would not
be upset to never command higher than a 'mech battalion. That was where a
warrior of the Joketsuzoku could find glory and honor, not sitting in a
command post kilometers from the lines of engagement.
The sound of splashing water and padding feet on the rough tile of the
spa caught her off-guard, and a feather of purest white drifted across her
nose. She looked up to see Kima standing over her. Kima's wings were folded
behind her back in a manner that suggested concern.
This was the first she had seen of Kima since she had departed for
Nerima and the failed summit. She had been in conference with the Council
since her return to Jusenkyo. What she had told them had remained in the
strictest secrecy ever since.
Shampoo was on good terms with the Joketsuzoku hybrid, mostly because
their areas of expertise were so different. Shampoo was a mechwarrior, Kima
an _agent provocateur._ There was little opportunity for rivalry. Shampoo's
personal attitude towards hybrids was one of measured indifference. She
told herself that they were blood of the Joketsuzoku, judged according to
their service to the clan. Usually this worked for her, though people like
General Herb and his cronies in the so-called 'Musk Dynasty' made her blood
run cold.
"<Mechwarrior Shampoo,>" Kima addressed her.
Shampoo tensed. Kima was not usually this formal with her. Something
was wrong.
"<What is it, sister?>" she asked.
"<Your presence is demanded before the Matriarch and the Council,>"
she replied sternly. "<You are to report promptly to the Council Chambers
at seventeen hundred. The uniform will be full-dress black with sidearm.>"
Shampoo reeled. What had she done? Full-dress uniform with sidearm
meant that she might be expected to defend herself and possibly die in
single combat. Only the gravest of charges would bring about such an event.
"<Kima, what--?>"
The hybrid woman looked down at her, and her expression softened. "<I
cannot tell you the details,>" she said quietly. "<But I caution you to be
on your guard, and to say nothing more than the minimum expected of you.>"
Shampoo nodded in silence as Kima left her.
* * *
The last time Shampoo had stood inside the Council Chambers, she was
thirteen years old and about to be made a Mechwarrior of the Commonwealth.
She had worn her dress-blacks then, though until she had been named a
mechwarrior, the right to bear a weapon before the Council was not hers.
Today she wore a long curved dagger of cold blue Damascus steel upon her
left shoulder; hilt down and crossing over her breasts for an easy cutting-
draw with her right hand.
The dagger was not her preferred weapon; that distinction belonged
to the heavy mace-like _bon bori._ Her dagger symbolized her status as a
mechwarrior, and the deep red and gold bindings of the hilt her place
among the Matriarch's bloodline. Her black and silver-trimmed uniform
cheongsam was ankle-length and impeccable, having spent most of its service
life sheathed in plastic and hanging in her closet. The precious silver
and gold thread of the embroidered characters sparkled in the light, as
did the eight butterflies chasing flaming pearls that symbolized her House.
Her appearance was calculated to impress upon her accusers who she
was and what she stood for, but would that matter if they came from among
the Council itself? She still had no idea why she had been called to the
Chambers, though from the tone of Kima's voice and her admonition to be on
her guard that it was not for a promotion. What had she done wrong? Was it
because of General Herb?
Pink and Link approached her as she presented herself at the appointed
time outside the Chambers. They were dressed in matching uniforms; their
embroidery was skillfully offset to be the opposite of the other. It was the
only way Shampoo could have told the twins apart.
"<Mechwarrior Shampoo, we shall be your escorts to and from the
Chambers,>" Pink said to her.
Link followed this with, "<You shall be upon your honor at all other
times.>"
Shampoo nodded in silent acknowledgement.
They did not have to wait long. A pagegirl appeared from behind a door
and motioned for them to enter the Chambers. Pink and Link stood to either
side of Shampoo as the trio stepped through the door.
The place was as dim and sparsely furnished as she remembered. Even
the smell of the incense had not changed in the last six years. The faces
that regarded her from their low couches were just as wrinkled and age-worn,
and betrayed no hint of what was to come.
The Elders of the Joketsuzoku were arrayed in a half-circle facing
east. Shampoo's place would be opposite them, facing west, and standing
while they remained seated. The Chamber was one of the few places in the
fortress illuminated by fire rather than electricity, and the sanguine
glow of the lamps flickering across the Elders' faces caught in their
eyes and upon their embroidered robes in tiny glittering flashes.
Pink and Link brought her to the place expected of her and stepped
back a pace to fade into the shadows of the mahogany-paneled walls. The
Elders remained silent and impassive, and appeared content to do so
forever if necessary. Shampoo's eyes flicked about, searching in vain
for her Great-Grandmother, while she remained at attention, staring
straight ahead.
Cologne arrived only after an agonizing period of silence. The
Matriarch appeared from behind a silk partition and sat upon her couch in
the center of the half-circle. She did not look at Shampoo, contenting
herself with a few whispered conversations with those on her immediate
right and left.
Finally, she looked up as if only just realizing that Shampoo was
standing there.
"<This Council now convenes an inquest into misconduct by Mechwarrior
Shampoo,>" she announced. Then, addressing Shampoo directly, she went on.
"<You have been brought before this Council on the gravest matters of
Commonwealth Security,>" she told her. "<On your oath as a Mechwarrior of
the Commonwealth, and as a Sister of the Joketsuzoku, you will answer
truthfully and to the best of your knowledge all questions put before you.>"
Shampoo cleared her throat quietly and gave the expected reply.
"<On my oath, I shall.>"
Cologne nodded at her statement and then consulted her notes.
"<Were you assigned under Classified Directive 25-06 to the planet
Lightoller, Epsilon Indi System, on the 11th of January of this year?>"
she asked.
"<I was, Elder,>" Shampoo responded. Her heart raced at the question.
That was the date of the break-in, and the date she had fallen victim to
the Jusenkyo Effect.
Cologne continued. "<Were you assigned in a temporary duty status
to security detail at the Laboratory Complex for the duty period of Ten
through Eleven January, inclusive?>"
"<Yes, Elder.>"
"<According to the incident report signed by Governor-General Herb,
a breach of security occured at the Laboratory Complex shortly after
midnight local time on the eleventh of January, and that you were the
first member of the security detail to engage the intruders. Did this
occur as specified?>"
Shampoo wished her great-grandmother would get to the point.
"<Yes, Elder.>"
"<During this breach, you were to respond as part of the security
detail. Were you mounted at this time?>"
"<No, Elder. I was dismounted at the time of the breach.>" This
referred to the fact that she had not been piloting her battlemech.
"<Were you mounted when you first engaged the intruders?>"
Shampoo shook her head slowly. "<No, Elder. I was not.>"
"<Then you responded in a capacity for which you were neither trained
nor qualified; nor was it in keeping with your orders,>" Cologne intoned.
Technically, as a mechwarrior, her required response during the security
breach was to secure her designated area with her battlemech. The job of
rooting out intruders in the labs went to a squad of grunt infantry that
had been too slow in responding that night.
Shampoo was not going to take this accusation lying down. Mustering
her courage, she spoke out.
"<Elder, the designated security was not on-station. I responded to
the Laboratory Complex only after several calls over the intercom for the
Reaction Force went unacknowledged.>"
Cologne raised an eyebrow at this, as did several other Elders.
"<The matter of the security detachment is a local matter, and the
concern of Governor-General Herb,>" she said formally. "<It is not within
the bounds of this investigation into your misconduct.>"
She looked down at her notes again.
"<The result of your disobedience was the escape of the intruders
from the Complex, and your own exposure to the Jusenkyo Effect - an
exposure that you did not immediately report to higher authority, and
in contravention of posted regulations and the Governor-General's standing
orders. According to an affidavit signed by Doctor Gaido, you did not
report your exposure until *twenty-three days* after the incident.>"
Her great-grandmother's words stung. Her knees became weak, and it
was all she could do to remain standing at attention.
Cologne continued. "<According to the report, when you finally
reported to your duty station in your designated capacity, you gave
mounted pursuit to the two intruders, who had stolen an All Terrain
Vehicle. Is this correct?>"
Shampoo was stony faced.
"<Yes, Elder.>"
Cologne once again consulted her notes.
"<At Map Reference Delta-Six-Mike by Echo-Three-Lima, Local Time
zero-six-three-nine; you reported destroying the All Terrain Vehicle and
killing the intruders with a volley of short range missile fire. Is this
correct?>"
"<Yes, Elder,>" she said with a thickening voice.
Cologne regarded her closely.
"<Did you personally verify the deaths of the intruders?>"
Shampoo cringed inwardly. This was what they were after. It could
only mean that at least one of the intruders had survived her attack, and
had somehow escaped off-world. The implications for Commonwealth security
were staggering, and she had been responsible.
She swallowed hard and faced the Elders.
"<No, Elders. I did not personally verify the deaths of the intruders.
The damage to the ATV appeared severe enough for me to make the assumption
that no survivors were possible.>"
Cologne and the other Elders whispered amongst themselves for several
minutes while Shampoo perspired in her uniform. This was it, the end of a
career that had not even begun. If the Elders were kind, they would simply
have her put to death - perhaps even in a trial by combat, fighting until
she was at last overcome. That at least would be something better than
being stripped of her mechwarrior status and cast down into the ranks of
the lowborn.
When the Elders had finished their brief discussion, Cologne signalled
for Pink and Link, who escorted Shampoo from the Chambers. They remained
with her outside, keeping to themselves, and leaving Shampoo to her own
dark thoughts. Obviously the Elders were deciding on her punishment.
She was called back inside the Chamber after nearly half an hour of
waiting and worrying. The Elders continued to regard her in their impassive
way, leaving her with no indication of what was to come. Only Cologne's
face showed any expression, and it was one of great disappointment.
"<Mechwarrior Shampoo,>" her great-grandmother intoned. "<This Council
has reviewed the evidence presented to it, and finds that you are guilty of
one count of disobeying orders, one count of dereliction of duty, and one
count of negligence in battle during a matter that threatens the security
of the Commonwealth at its highest levels.>"
Shampoo felt her world collapsing around her. The dereliction of
duty charge alone could bring a death sentence if the Council was so
inclined.
Cologne continued in a dry voice. "<This Council will reconvene at
a later date to determine punitive sanctions. At this time you are remanded
to the authority of the Special Operations Command, effective immediately.>"
She looked to the other Elders. "<Are there any further comments or
questions from the Council?>" There were none. "<This concludes this
inquest. Mechwarrior Shampoo shall remain in chamber after the Council
departs.>"
Shampoo stood as still as death while the old crones of the Council
stood and made their shaky exits. Cologne remained behind, as did Pink and
Link, her perpetual shadows.
Once the rest of the Council had departed, Cologne stepped out from
behind the low table that served as her desk, and approached Shampoo.
"<I am extremely disappointed in you, Great-Granddaughter>" she said
to her. "<Your conduct on Lightoller was deplorable. I thought I had
trained you better than that, but apparently I have failed. You are rash
and undisciplined; these are qualities that do not become a mechwarrior,
nor a future leader of mechwarriors.>"
Shampoo hung her head in shame. There was nothing she could say to
her great-grandmother that would make any difference. All she could do
was accept her fate.
"<I await my punishment, Great-Grandmother.>"
Cologne tapped her gnarled ashwood staff on the floor. "<That remains
to be seen.>"
Shampoo looked up at this, clearly confused. Cologne answered her
unspoken question.
"<This incident is as much General Herb's responsibility as yours,>"
she told her. "<Normally I would have no choice but to see you answer for
your failure, but circumstances have allowed me some latitude on your
behalf.>"
A glimmer of hope welled within Shampoo's eyes. Cologne continued to
speak.
"<Kima's report from Nerima was quite disturbing,>" she said. She
then produced several stereographs and showed them to Shampoo. "<The Duke
has thwarted Combine and League attempts to secure his youngest daughter
as a bride by engaging her to a mechwarrior named Ranma Saotome.>"
Shampoo recognized one of the stereographs. It was taken by a button-
hole camera concealed in Kima's clothing. It showed a buxom red-haired girl
being carried on a litter. Her left arm was swathed in bandages. Shampoo
had seen that girl before, and would never forget her.
Cologne read the look of hate on her great-granddaughter's face and
had her suspicions confirmed.
"<That's the girl who broke into the Lab,>" Shampoo said angrily.
"<That also happens to be the young man engaged to Duke Tendo's
daughter,>" Cologne added, showing her stereographs of Ranma in his
normal body. "<They are one and the same, thanks to the Jusenkyo Effect.>"
Shampoo looked at the stereograph of male Ranma. His arrogance was
appalling. It made her want to wipe the smile off his smug face. "<Send
me to Nerima, Great-Grandmother,>" she pleaded. "<I will kill this Ranma
Saotome as atonement for my failure.>"
"<That will become your assignment soon enough,>" Cologne agreed.
"<But there are more important matters that may well require Saotome to
remain among the living for the moment. It appears that this young man
and his father are engaged in a search for the legendary Ryuugenzawa.>"
Shampoo frowned. Ryuugenzawa was a story mechwarriors told their
children at bedtime. "<You don't believe they've found it, do you,
Great-Grandmother?>" she asked.
"<I am of two minds,>" she replied. "<However, Grand Duke Tendo is
taking it seriously enough. There is no other rational explanation for
why he withdrew his surrender offer, and it would also explain his haste
to engage Akane Tendo to Saotome. On the off chance that Ryuugenzawa
*does* exist, the Commonwealth must possess its secrets - or else destroy
Ryuugenzawa to keep it from our enemies in the Furinkan Combine.>"
She handed Shampoo a set of flimsies. "<Your assignment is to
accompany Agent Kima and a select mission team to determine the validity
of the Ryuugenzawa rumors. If it exists, you are to report its location
and other key information to the Commonwealth at all costs; then you will
terminate Ranma Saotome and his father, and return home. If Ryuugenzawa
is a hoax, you have only to terminate Ranma Saotome and his father, and
then return home. Use discretion in the matter, as the Commonwealth
wishes to avoid a diplomatic entanglement if at all possible.>"
She narrowed her eyes at Shampoo.
"<Your conduct of the mission will have a direct bearing on the
decision of the Council regarding possible disciplinary sanctions levied
against you. Do not fail, Shampoo, or your fate will indeed be out of my
hands.>"
END OF PART FIVE