Disclaimer: I own none of the works this wanders through and I'm not making any money off of this. Please don't sue.
-Chapter 11-
Engel Schwarze stood atop a skyscraper, watching the sun set.
I have spent entirely too much time shipboard, he thought. This should not be all that interesting a sight. He gave the sight a few more moments, then looked around, considering his options. The locals had been very quick to respond to attacks by Beryl's pets, and their response had always been swift and direct: kill it with fire immediately if not sooner. He strongly suspected that they were honestly unaware of his arrival.
He'd read the reports, and browsed the local information networks(magicless IT networks were ever so easy to hack) and he did not get the impression of agents who would let someone like him wander around their chosen city unopposed. Especially the 'martial artist.' This Ranma Saotome was not exactly noted for having restraint or patience. He'd be responding to Schwarze's presence if he was aware of it. Assuming even half the things said about him were actually true – and most of the sources were unprofessional enough that he rather doubted their accuracy – he'd probably be a decent opponent, though not one that Schwarze expected would be a credible threat to him.
He was the Black Angel of the Republic, one of the mightiest spellcasters of his generation, produced by a star nation whose domain crossed dimensions. This world, with its measly tech base, poor magic, and general divisiveness would be another stepping stone on the Republic's march of conquest. It would make a decent start on the conquest of this particular dimension.
Queen of Ice and Darkness! He sneered at the thought of how poor the magic of this world was. The raw materiel for mighty magic was here, but the locals almost totally ignored it, dismissing it as 'primitive superstition.' Fools. Willful, ignorant fools. Well, they'll learn the price of their idiocy soon.
The champions of this place were the only major threat to the coming ground forces. Oh, no doubt the yokel military would put up a spirited fight – they always did, when they were fighting for their homes – but the dogfaces would sort them out. It was the champions, these 'Senshi,' who were a threat, and there would be glory in destroying them.
Engel Schwarze was not one for sharing glory.
Well, he thought, drawing his Focus from its belt clip, and expanding it to Staff Form, nothing to do now but draw them out.
"Sirol," he said, addressing the AI of his Focus, "Any signs that they're scrying us?"
No sir,said the AI telepathicaly. The only scrying I have detected for the last few hours is from the RNS Samaris in orbit. I assume you still want me to shield us from their attempts to locate you?
"Absolutely, Sirol. Mage-Captain Kars means well, but we won't need his support for this. Passive charge situation?"
Optimal. There continue to be few if any forces drawing upon the local Aether; I have unrestricted access.
Schwarze's smile grew. "Excellent. Well then, my friend, let's draw some attention to ourselves."
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Setsuna Mioh, if pressed, would grudgingly admit that she did not get an unpleasant or dangerous vibe from Hellboy. If pressed further, she'd admit to finding him almost... charming. He – and despite her prejudices she could not think of Hellboy as an it howevermuch she wanted to – had a simple, humble manner. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care and occasionally struggling with the Japanese, but he was just so damned personable. His dry sense of humor even extracted some laughs from her and the other Outer Senshi. Haruka and Michiru were starting to warm to him, and Hotaru had taken to him almost immediately.
It helped that Chibi-Usa had recognized him and seemed to regard him as a friend, though something in her manner suggested that she didn't expect to meet him yet. That was not a detail destined to warm the hearts of anyone conversant with the concepts of time travel or paradox, but it was somewhat curbed by the fact that she seemed to find his presence a comfort and had urged Setsuna to work with him to figure this out.
For his part, Hellboy seemed rather bemused by the attentions of the pink-haired youth.
They were gathered in Setsuna's living room – the Outer's informal HQ – and going over a map of the city. Hellboy had gotten up to speed quite quickly and was currently trying to find a pattern in the enemy attacks. He'd been unsuccessful so far, but he had some ideas, and had run through several of them. It was helpful to have another viewpoint on the problem, especially one so surprisingly knowledgeable and professional as Hellboy's. The conversation was turning towards the Time Gates, though thankfully none of the girls were mentioning them by name.
"Okay, so normally you have some method of learning about attacks in advance, correct?"
Setsuna said, "We do, though I hope you'll forgive me if I decline to give you the details."
"Fair enough. So it is not working on these attacks. Has it ever not worked before?"
"No it hasn't."
There was a moment if thoughtful silence, then Michiru said, "Actually... it has failed to show us some things. Remember, when the TSAB first arrived a few months ago and it threw everything out of place?"
Setsuna was quiet for a long moment, nodding. "Well, yes, but in the end that was not an attack."
Hellboy rubbed his chin with his flesh hand thoughtfully. "Do you know why it threw things out of place?"
"Not entirely. I believe because the TSAB are not native to this dimension or to dimensions that are, for lack of a better term, connected to it. And when they were here their ship was heavily warded against scrying. The Youma are much like those we've faced in the past, so unless the ones directing them..."
There was a long, painful silence as the penny dropped. Setsuna found her voice first. "Unless the ones directing the attacks are not from this dimension, or they are warded. If they aren't here at all, then we wouldn't be able to predict their actions."
Hellboy nodded. "That makes some sense. Now, what do we do about that?"
There was a long moment of silence as the gathered Senshi tried to think of a good response. They were interrupted by a large explosion elsewhere in the city.
"What was that?" shouted Haruka, running to the window. Hellboy was only a step behind her.
Setsuna jumped to the Youma detector. "Nothing here... but I could feel some magic in that blast."
"So could I," said Hotaru.
"This could be one of the directors," said Hellboy, patting down his belt pouches as if checking for his equipment as he walked to where he'd hung up his leather duster. "Let's go make him feel welcome."
Ranma Saotome had spent most of the evening at the hospital. After visiting hours ended, he decamped from Nabiki's room to a ledge outside. He wasn't sure how he felt about the situation, only that he wished he'd moved quicker, somehow stopped her getting hurt in the first place. Not letting Akane spar with her lept to mind, but that had the flaw of not being a good way to help Akane learn. Niggling annoyingly at the back of his mind was the kicker: his father hadn't been entirely wrong about the way he'd set up the training.
Ranma was in a bad mood. As places to brood go, a hospital is well and truly one of the best, as they are full of people in poor health who are miserable and are tended by more miserable people. He'd been brooding for a few hours now, watching the city slow down for the evening, mood slightly lifted by the setting sun.
So it should come as no real surprise that his initial reaction to a large explosion a few blocks away was eagerness. Who or whatever had just created that explosion had more or less volunteered to let Ranma pound away until he felt better. The part of his mind that tried to strive for maturity quietly pointed out that this was not a healthy way to deal with stress. But at the moment, he didn't much care. Ranma launched off the hospital roof in a ballistic arc, going for altitude. The best thing about flight, in his opinion, was the way it let you damn near always have the high ground going into a fight.
Ranma? asked Pluto's mental voice, Where are you?
Heading for that explosion. It was way too close to the hospital for my taste. His flight took him over a skyscraper, giving him line of sight to the blast area. I'm near it now. I think I see our guy. Some guy in midair glowing blue.
We'll be along shortly.
Gotcha. I'll get started.
The glowing man was holding some kind of polearm and taking potshots at random civilians in the street below. Smoke billowed from the front of one building, obscuring part of the area. Ranma aimed for the center of the guy's back, killed his flight, and dropped. A flying kick was so much better from a hundred feet up.
Over the sound of alarms, screams, and the howl of the wind, Ranma could hear the guy laughing. He was enjoying scaring the hell out of those people! Time to fix his little red wagon... "Shooting Star Kick!" shouted Ranma, aiming for the bastard's left shoulder.
The bastard looked up in surprise, reacted by instinct. "Panzer Wall!"
A disk of brilliant blue energy formed between them, and it took the force of Ranma's kick head on, pushing the bastard down half a dozen feet. Off balance, Ranma couldn't get too much rebound off the kick, but managed to land himself on top of a car about twenty feet away from him. He and his foe surveyed each other across the gap.
His foe was wearing a dark blue trench coat over black slacks and shirt, fingerless gloves, and combat boots. Purple eyes, brownish hair, weird little beardy-thing, and a hearteningly shocked expression. A long, ornate staff held in his left hand; the haft made of dull brass or something of the same colour with a fist sized blue gem embedded at one end.
After a moment, the stranger said, "I'm impressed. You managed to get close without my noticing."
"I'm good at that, asshole. Who are you and what are you doin' in my town?"
The bastard grinned widely. "My name is Engel Schwarze, and I am the man who is going to kill you. You're Ranma Saotome, the shapeshifter, right?"
Ranma's eyes narrowed. "How do you know who I am?"
"I have my ways. I don't know what kind of mage you are, but I do know that I will beat you. No offense, but I'm not going to let you survive the night." The staff shot forward, gem glowing with inner fire. "Aether Shot!"
Ranma dodged the blast without thinking, replied with one of his own. "Moko Takabisha!" Schwarze caught it with another damnable shield. Another blue bolt flew from Schwarze's staff, and again Ranma dodged it. He darted forward, aimed a kick at the mage's head. Once more his foot impacted a shield; this time Ranma had a good enough view to see that the thing was ringed with some kind of heavy, gothic script.
"That's a good trick."
"So is yours. I admit I'm curious, what kind of spell do you use to put so much power into a physical attack?"
Ranma was temporarily boggled. "Are you seriously asking me to explain how I fight in the middle of a fight?"
Schwarze's grin could only be described as predatory. "Of course. You won't be alive once the fight's over, so I won't have another chance."
Ranma dodged a blast, replied with a point-blank Moko Takabisha. "We'll see about that. You ain't so hot, 'cept fer this shield."
"A good defense forgives many sins." His expression betrayed a moment of frustration as Ranma dodged yet another shot. "Something you seem to take to heart. Impressively quick."
"You ain't seen fast yet, pal." Ranma poured on the speed for a moment, darting inside the mage's shield and landing a hefty blow to his stomach. Schwarze's breath left him in a loud whoof of air, then the black-clad mage shot skyward.
"I'll admit, I walked into that one," he said, slightly breathless. "Aether Volley!" A rapid stream of blue bolts shot down, and Ranma dodged around them for a moment.
Ranma's mind raced. Shields, blasts, some kinda body armor... it's like fighting a TSAB guy, but worse. This guy's toying with me. His teeth gritted. He disliked being toyed with. "Yer not gonna walk fer a week when I'm done with ya! Me an' my buddies are gonna kick yer ass." Ranma shouted, eyes darting around the street seeking anything that might give him an advantage. An errant blast split a car in two; Ranma mentally kicked his guestimate of the stranger's power up a notch.
"An interesting boast from the man without friends."
"They'll be along. They like this place more'n I do." Ki blasts hadn't done much against this guy's shield, so Ranma decided to take a shot at Firebending. A quick volley of fire blasts had no more luck than his Moko Takabishas, though Ranma noted that Schwarze still broke off his own attack to get up a shield. You ain't sure how much you can take with just the armor, huh? That might come in useful.
"Dead Scream!" A bolt of magic, hastily blocked, announced the arrival of the cavalry.
Schwarze turned, smiled. "Well, here they are. Now things can really get started. And you have another friend I didn't know about already! It's my lucky day."
Ranma glanced over. The Outer Senshi were fanning out across the street, trying to flank the flying mage. Behind them was a hulking red figure. Uh Pluto? Ranma sent, You appear to have a Red Oni following you.
He's with us, don't worry.
I ain't worried, just makin' sure. Satisfied that the Oni was at least nominally friendly, Ranma turned his attention back to Schwarze. "Yer luck just ran out, pal." Ranma eschewed his dodging for a straightforward charge, rocketing into the air towards the black-clad mage.
"Aether Volley Enhanced!" Eight bolts of royal-blue energy spiraled away from him, converged on Ranma. The aquatransexual spun around them, opened his mouth to shout some mockery at his foe for the miss. Then the bolts reversed direction and blasted into him from behind.
Ranma emerged from the resulting explosion trailing smoke. Weaving through the sky like a drunken comet, he slammed through the windows of a skyscraper. The mage smirked in satisfaction, turned back to the Senshi. "Well, that's one idiot down. Who's next?"
------------
Wasting no time on words, Haruka stepped up. "Space Sword Blaster!"
Michiru's "Deep Submerge!" was less than a second behind it. Setsuna noted with some displeasure that both blasts more or less rolled off of some kind of shield spell. Whoever he was, he was potent.
And aggravating. He started laughing. "Not bad, not bad at all, but not enough to work, I'm afraid." He turned his attention to Hotaru and Hellboy. "Unless you two have some surprises?"
Hotaru raised the Silence Glaive into a ready position, then began to gather power. The stranger formed another shield between himself and her.
Taking advantage of his seeming distraction, Haruka bounded onto an awning and into the air, Space Sword held high as she prepared to strike. The mage shifted with impressive speed, parrying her downward stroke with the haft of his weapon and catching a blast from Michiru on his shield. He laughed the whole while, as though this were the greatest game he'd played in months.
There was a resounding BOOM as Hellboy fired his revolver. The massive slug hit the flying mage in the small of the back, just off center, and twisted him around. He clawed for altitude, spinning his shield to intercept Hellboy's follow-up shots, laughter chopping off as five rounds boomed out and spanged harmlessly off of his shield. The American Demon frowned as he popped open the revolver and felt for reloads with the fingers not holding the gun. He was muttering something as he dove for cover.
The mage recovered from his surprise. Laughing he asked, "A chemical powered slugthrower? That's it? Gods below, for a moment I thought I was in trouble." He shook his head. "Ladies, your pet is downright useless. The Black Angel will not be felled by some mere slugthrower."
"Good to know," said Haruka, as she sent another blast downrange. Her lover, moved to a flanking position, did the same, and the damnable shield caught that too.
He spawned another shield to catch Setsuna's own blast, holding off their attacks with ease. He then started snapping off counter attacks, drifting almost lazily down the block. Setsuna frowned. The arrogant bastard's shield was good, but if they could coax him down a little more, he'd be in Hotaru's reach...
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Hellboy pounded down the alley, hooves raising sparks. The lead rounds had done a big fat nothing to this joker's protective magic, but he'd definitely felt the first shot. Even the best body armor didn't keep you from feeling the impact, even if it kept a round from penetrating. Reloading a revolver one-handed wasn't easy, but it was necessary – his stone hand did not do well with objects even as slightly breakable as the Samaritan. He had a few long ranged tricks up his sleeve, and if the guy was stupid enough to let himself touch the ground, he'd be in for a hell of a shock.
Blessed silver rounds loaded – and he'd only burned himself once on the slugs, not bad at all for reloading on the run without looking – Hellboy popped out of the alleys. Laughing Boy had dropped down a ways- encouraging. The big red demon lifted his hand cannon and squeezed off a shot. The silver bullet spanged off a shield the mage snapped up, and then Hellboy dropped and rolled as a magic blast replied. "Lots of points for effort, Red, but really... you're not going to break my shields like that."
Okay, blessed silver's no good either. What else do I got here...
------------
Schwarze was enjoying himself. One foe down, one who had proved himself to be useless, and one who hadn't made an attack. The girl with the spear was undeniably powerful, but she was either unable or unwilling to make an attack, and he was ignoring her for the moment. A stalking horse was only effective if one payed attention to it.
The female mages were trying to flank him, but he kept moving. They didn't seem to be able to fly, which let him dictate the pace of the battle. And as it stood, they seemed to have realized that trying to blast him head-on was futile. They still took the occasional potshot, but that was only to be expected. He took the occasional shot himself back.
"Honestly, ladies, I'd expected a better fight than this."
The one with the sword snarled, "We're so sorry to disappoint you." She sent another blast his way.
He gave in to the urge to laugh when their pet demon popped out from behind a groundcar. "Full points for effort, Red, but seriously..." He doubted a slugthrower could punch through his body armor but, well, it didn't cover everything, and besides, he hadn't lived this long by trusting passive defenses when he could use active ones. "Panzer Wall."
Six bullets blasted forth in rapid succession, cleaving through his shield like it was no more substantial than tissue paper and slamming into his body armor. Air whoofing out of him, he dropped to the pavement like a poleaxed steer.
--------------
Hellboy smiled, cracked the Samaritan open for a reload. "I love cold iron. Ain't a magic I've ever seen that stands up to it."
The mage picked himself up, a manic expression on his face. The gem at the end of his staff glowed and a web of gothic script wove around the end of the thing. Hellboy hunched back, putting as much of himself behind his stone hand as possible, and muttered, "Oh, crap."
The mage completed his spell. "Aether Cannon Blast!"
A wave of blue power blasted out from the tip of the bastard's staff. It lanced towards Hellboy and broke against the Right Hand of Doom, washed around him and slammed him back into, and through, the front of a building.
------------
Hotaru had been waiting for her chance, and now she had it. This 'Black Angel' had been careful to avoid getting inside her reach, but Hellboy's shots had brought him down. And, more to the point, he hadn't realized that just yet. With a fleeting thought to Hellboy's safety, she charged, felt power gather into the Silence Glaive. The air around her gained a greasy feel like the start of a thunderstorm.
The black-clad mage noticed her approach a moment too late, unable to dodge the Silence Glaive as it descended like the judgement of a wrathful god.
"Silence Glaive Surprise!"
"Panzer Bunker!"
Weapon met shield in an explosion of light and power that bathed the street in its glow.
-----------
Setsuna had to look away from the blast of light to save her sight. After a long moment it cleared, and Setsuna suppressed the urge to swear when she saw the aftermath of the Senshi of Ruin and Rebirth's attack. Haruka apparently felt the same urge and decided not to suppress it.
The foreign mage had thrown up another shield, this one so thick and dark that it was nearly opaque. Clearly it was intended to be a square, and about six feet in height. The Silence Glaive was embedded in it, having carved a gouge almost three feet deep into the shield wall. The Black Angel was sprawled on the ground, one hand glowing as he held it towards the shield, overcoat in tatters and bleeding from a few minor cuts.
The shield collapsed, as he rose into the air once more, laughing uproariously. "That was impressive. I must say, little girl, my hat is off to you. I never suspected anyone on this mudball could come up with something like that." Power glowed at the tip of his staff. "But now I fear you have to die." He readied another blast. Hotaru gathered power as if to shield herself. "Aether Cannon Blast!"
A rose flew from nowhere and struck the glowing tip of the staff, knocking the blast off aim and causing it to carve a furrow in the blacktop halfway across the street from its target. The foreign mage looked up at a nearby rooftop, from whence the rose came. "Who in the five hells are you?"
Setsuna smiled as Mamoru Chiba replied, "I am Tuxedo Mask, and I will not allow you to harm these fair maidens. Who are you who dares to attack this place?"
"I am Engel Schwarze, Enforcer of the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson, and the man who is going to kill you all. Your shapeshifter is dead, your pet is dead, and I think you just volunteered to die next!" A bolt of blue magic lanced towards Mamoru, who managed, albeit barely, to dodge. "And seriously! A rose? What in the hells do you think you could do with that as a weapon?"
"Distract you."
Schwarze seemed about to reply when he suddenly dropped out of the sky. Appearing as if from no-where, Ranma Saotome was behind him, one arm locked across the mage's neck, the other across his eyes. The stranger spouted something quite probably profane as the two crashed down. Ranma rolled into a crouch and tackled the sprawling mage again, this time getting both hands on the man's staff weapon.
Setsuna was a few steps behind Haruka and Michiru as they charged in. As they closed in, Setsuna realized that Ranma was favouring one leg slightly- his left leg seemed oddly stiff and it looked as if he'd tied his belt very tight around the calf. That didn't seem to much mater, though, as he quickly yanked the staff out of Schwarze's hands and shot skyward again. "Wonder if I can figure this toy out?"
The mage took flight in pursuit of the martial artist, this time looking decidedly unsteady. "I doubt it, you indig savage. You can't even use proper magic!"
Ranma nodded, an expression of false sorrow on his face. "Yeah, ki just ain't the same. Guess I'll settle for kickin' your ass with your own magic stick." Blistering fast, he jabbed Schwarze in the midsection with the outstretched staff, wound up for a hefty swing – but the mage managed another of his shields at the last moment.
"None of that, you cheeky bastard! Sirol! Anti-theft countermeasures!"
Yes Sir.
Blue lightning crackled up and down the length of the staff, and Ranma yelped at the sudden pain. He quickly got himself back under control, however, and grabbed for altitude as the mage made a grab for it. He settled on a nearby roof, glancing around the street as if looking for something.
From behind, Setsuna heard a moan and a complicated sound of shifting bricks. Glancing, she saw Hellboy extricating himself from the pile of rubble into which he had been blown. His clothes were tattered, but he drew himself to his massive height and moved up beside Hotaru. "Gonna be sore in the mornin..." he muttered.
He did not go unnoticed. "What does it take to kill you people?" asked Schwarze angrily.
"More'n ya'd think," said Ranma, his smirk growing. "You're fond of this stick, ain't ya?" Spinning in place, he shifted his grip on the staff, threw it down to the street. "Big Red! Think fast!"
The throw was perfectly aimed, and Hellboy's reactions were swift, catching the staff out of the air with his flesh hand as Schwarze shouted, "No!"
"This bit looks important," Hellboy said as he gripped the blue gemstone in the Right Hand of Doom – and squeezed. There was a sound like a glacier calving and a burst if blue light, then the staff abruptly disintegrated.
"NO!" shouted Schwarze, angrily, and he whirled upon Ranma once more.
"Mage-Captain Kars? I just found him. It looks like he had some kind of anti-scrying ward up, but it's just vanished."
"Good," Kars grunted. "Teleport that idiot straight to the brig. I'll have his hide for this stunt."
For a moment, Ranma was surprised into inaction. Was this guy seriously trying to take a swing at him?
That split second's hesitation gained Schwarze no respite. He might have been hot shit with magic, but when it came to hand-to-hand combat, well, he was an idiot. In a flash, Ranma had the punching hand twisted up behind its owner's back, and the owner face-first on the rooftop. Ignoring the shooting pains in his leg, Ranma knelt on the mage's back, putting enough weight down to keep the guy pinned.
The Outer Senshi, launching themselves from ground level, quickly landed around him, as did Tuxedo Mask. Ranma glanced up, grinning. "Anybody got somethin' we can use ta tie this joker up?"
From street level rose a shout of "One second! Okay, catch!"
Tuxedo Mask, closest to the edge of the roof, leaned out for a moment and snagged something out of the air at the peak of its arc. Waving, he shouted, "Got it!"
The masked man smiled. "Duct tape. Americans." He shook his head as he walked towards Ranma. "Think this will do the trick?"
"Worth a shot." Schwarze tried to twist away from Ranma, who responded by rabbit-punching him in the kidneys. "Oh no ya don't. We got some questions for ya."
"Go to hell, you bastard!"
"Well, when ya ask so nice..."
Abruptly, Schwarze's form rippled with green light, and he vanished. Ranma, weight pressing on a body that was no longer there, toppled forward into an awkward sprawl, wincing at the pains it shot up his leg. "What the?"
The Senshi were looking around wildly, trying to spot their foe. Ranma gritted his teeth and pushed his own ki senses outward. Other than the Senshi – and he was fairly sure, now, who was who despite their magical crap – and the Oni, he felt nothing but other humans, most seeming to wonder if the explosions were stopping.
Odd Oni, now that he thought about it. His ki was almost human in some ways and very not in others – especially one hand, around and through which swirled energy that almost hurt to look at. There was a series of clangs as the Oni climbed what Ranma assumed was a fire escape. As the Oni pulled himself up to the roof, Ranma waved.
The fight over, his adrenaline rush was fading fast, and with it his energy. Ranma sat heavily, injured leg throbbing. "Anybody got a clue how he did that?"
"There are a few ways he might have..." began Pluto. "Are you all right?" She was looking at his leg.
By reflex, Ranma denied any problem. "It looks worse than it is. Got cut up when I went through that window, but I got a tourniquet on it in time."
He tried to stand, but couldn't quite manage on the first try. The attempt was punctuated by a throb matching the tempo of his pulse from the leg. Another try did little better. Gritting his teeth and mentally stomping on his pride, he said, "I could use a hand to the hospital, though."
"No need," said Saturn as she knelt beside him. Soothing, healing energy radiated from her and he felt flesh knit almost instantly under its touch.
"Thanks," Ranma said. "I forgot you.. could.. do..." he trailed off, gaze unfocusing. Then he faceplamed. "Uh, do you do housecalls?"
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Dr. Ono Takari had seen many strange processions in his years at Tokyo General. In the thirty years he had practiced medicine, Japan had changed a great deal, with a manic intensity that most other nations seemed unnerved by. But a demon, several of the Sailor Senshi, and a martial artist whose pants appeared to be soaked in blood was quite possibly the strangest. The martial artist had been in earlier, visiting one of his patients, and had asked remarkably politely(given his general sarcasm earlier) if they could go up now, despite it being well after visiting hours.
He was not inclined to deny a friend of such fine protectors of the city as the Senshi, especially when they were along themselves.
As it was past visiting hours, he waited at the doorway to the hospital room in question, as a formality. There was a brief, muted conversation between the martial artist and the patient, one Nabiki Tendo, and then one of the Senshi began to glow.
Almost instantly, the minor, but noticable, hitch in Tendo's breathing was gone, and she sat up with an energy that the anesthetic she had been given an hour previously should have denied, hands probing at her ribs. After a moment, she half bowed and murmered something to the Senshi.
Ono pushed his way through the crowd. "What have you done to my patient?"
The Senshi said, "I healed her, sir."
Tendo said, "Ranma, you've been working with the Senshi for what, two weeks now?"
"Uh, yeah."
Tone poisonously sweet, Tendo continued. "And you didn't ask your friend for this before why?"
"'Cause I ain't used to knowin' someone who can do this an' I totally forgot about it."
"We'll settle up for this later, Ranma." She stood, bowed properly to the Senshi, and made as if to leave. "Thank you again, miss."
Dr. Takari said, "I think it would be best for you to stay the night just in case." A small bow of his own to the Senshi, "I cast no aspersions, but this is highly irregular. If for nothing else, there would be much less paperwork to wait for normal hours."
"No offence taken," said the healer, smiling faintly. "I am glad I could help."
Another of the Senshi said, "I think we should be going. We have much to discuss."
They'd decamped to Setsuna's place again, gathered around the living room and lost in thought. Hellboy dominated the couch without trying. Normally he didn't feel all that self conscious about his size, but in Japan the difference was more... pronounced. He was running the battle through his head over and over again. It had been hectic – fighting stuff he couldn't lay hands on was a regal pain in the tukus.
And he'd been impressed by his allies. He hadn't caught everything- digging oneself out from under a heap of brick did that – but what he'd seen was damned good. He'd be updating the BPRD's profiles on the lot of them when he got home. And writing a full-bore report on Saotome. They'd had little on the guy prior to this – reports of poor academic performance and a list of infractions and discipline problems as long as your average table from his school, some rumors about wild martial arts, and nothing else. He'd been a big unknown. He was still mostly an unknown, but one definitely worth studying.
A powerhouse with all the stubborn determination of a rottweiler. Hellboy could appreciate that. A small smirk: much like myself.
Michiru walked in from the kitchen again, carrying drinks. She hadn't missed much, everyone had been keeping their own council. And it looked like they were keeping to that. Well, someone had to break the ice, so why not him? If he gave offense he could always play the 'ignorant gaijin' card.
"So. Our friend with the goatee said he was from something called a 'Dimensional Republic of Bradeson.' Anyone heard of that before? Or anything like it?"
The Senshi shook their heads, save for the little pipsqueak with the pink hair. She was looking more and more unnerved by the situation. Mamoru shook his head as well, but absently. He was watching pink hair and looking unnerved himself.
Ranma waited a moment, then piped up, "I ain't heard of 'em before specifically, but somethin' about the name, an' the way the guy fought, reminded me a' the TSAB. They pop around time an' dimensions an' stuff." He shrugged, frowning. "Don't know the mechanics of it, I ain't a magic kinda guy, but that's what he reminded me of."
"The TSAB mages, could they travel on their own?" Setsuna sounded both concerned and curious.
Ranma shook his head. "Not 'tween planets an' stuff. They have ships for that."
"So laughing boy probably came on a ship, too." Hellboy frowned. "Even bet he's got friends close by."
"Yeah. An' they hauled him back, I bet." Ranma paused, trying to find the words. "The green flashy thing, that wasn't somethin' he was doin'. Somebody else did it to him."
Setsuna sighed. "So by now they almost certainly know what happened to him, and what we're capable of."
Haruka shook her head. "So whoever comes in next will about Ranma's invisibility trick, our spells, Hellboy's crazy gun that can blow through a shield we can't... how did you manage that, by the way?"
Hellboy dug into his pouch and produced another speedloader. "Cold Iron bullets. They work best with faerie magic, but they tend to blow through any magic they run into." He handed the speedloader to Haruka, who examined them. "I don't have that many, though. Forgin' the things, or working 'em with anything more than hand tools stops it being cold iron."
"So they just, what, beat the things into shape with hammers?"
"More or less." A shrug. "Though based on his reaction, I doubt he had any idea what the hell I did."
"Or me," said Ranma. "He said a couple times he didn't know what I was up to. Called me a shapeshifter at first."
"Well, to be fair..." said Michiru, splashing him with a glass of water. Ranma gave her an annoyed look.
The redhead continued after a moment. "Well, okay, sure, he's technically right about that, but it ain't nothin' I do."
"Jusenkyo?" asked Hellboy.
"Yeah. How'd ya know?"
"One of our agents checked the place out a couple years back."
"Did he fall in or something?"
"Yeah. Spring of Drowned Girl."
"Ouch. My sympathies."
"It more or less worked out. His wife's pretty open-minded."
There was a brief, awkward silence as Ranma's face turned a very interesting shade of red.
Haruka began to chuckle. "Nothing wrong with that, Saotome."
"Sure. Of course. But not really important right now."
"You're right, we do need to figure out what to do about this."
Ranma and Setsuna exchanged glances, both of their expressions suggesting supreme distaste. The Senshi of Time spoke first. "I think at this point we're officially in over our heads. We need to call in re-enforcements."
"You mean the TSAB?" asked Haruka.
"Yes. That Schwarze fellow very nearly beat us alone, and he presumably has comrades with him."
Ranma looked like she'd just taken a bite of something bitter and vile. "Yer' probably right. Guh. I hate the idea, but yer' right." She growled, one hand curling into a tight fist. "I just wish we knew what was gonna happen."
The Senshi collectively exchanged a glance. Hellboy, familiar with groups that had been working together so long they were damn near telepathic, caught the significance of that glance. Especially when their little pink-haired friend didn't share it. His suspicion was confirmed when they seemed to come to a decision, and all turned towards her.
Little Usa quailed under the attention for a moment, then blurted out, "I know what you wanna know! You want me to tell you what happens!"
"Well, yes," said Michiru. "You're from our future, you should know. And right now, we need that information."
Usa began to sob. "But... But... I don't know what's gonna happen. This summer was supposed to be totally boring! You weren't supposed to see Ranma again 'till mama got home an' he gave back the detector! You weren't supposed to meet Hellboy at all for another -" she chopped the sentence off there, shooting Hellboy an apologetic look. "I'm not supposed to talk about that, sorry, I just... I don't know what's going to happen! None of this is supposed to be happening!"
Ranma said, "Hey kiddo, calm down, it'll be fine. I'm sure I ain't the only one here good at dealin' with surprises, an' we're gonna call in some heavy hitting backup. We'll be fine."
Setsuna put one arm around the crying girl. "We'll beat this. We will. It would be easier if we knew what was going to happen, but since we don't, we'll just have to improvise." She glanced towards Ranma, who nodded.
"Where do ya keep your communicator dealie? The one I got fer callin' in is back in Nerima."
Haruka stood. "I'll show you." The two left the room.
Hellboy considered following them. Strictly speaking, his bosses would probably appreciate him doing so if only to get a look at what he presumed was TSAB gear. On the other hand, the poor kid looked terrified and his tough, red, demonic exterior hid a very soft heart and he purely hated to see a kid that scared.
Especially since, unlike many, this kid seemed to like him. "It'll be okay, kiddo. I got some friends to call too. The cavalry is a-comin'."
There was a shout from upstairs. "Setsuna! We got a problem!" Ranma bounded down the stairs. "The communicator ain't workin'. We're bein' jammed."
-------------------
Mage-Admiral Konrad Kallson stood at the main tactical station on the RNS Admiral Anson, speed reading Samaris' download. The scouting cruiser had, for the most part, done a fine job. They'd misplaced one of their Enforcers, but that wasn't entirely unexpected. Enforcers tended to be willful mavericks, a trait that made them both valuable to the Service and utterly maddening for those they worked with.
Most of his expeditionary force had arrived with him in the last two hours, keeping themselves under cloak and out of sight. Kallson hoped to keep them hidden until the rest of the expeditionary force arrived – the troop transport Siege of Tesephony had suffered drive damage, and she and her escorts were left behind to catch up at best speed. With a little luck his entire force would be assembled in – he checked the last report – another fifty-seven hours. Remembering the relevant part of the report, he did some quick math. Not quite fifty-five local hours. Something to remember when he decided how he wanted to deal with this planet.
And that was going to depend a lot on what happened with Samaris' errant Enforcer. Though Kallson had never met Schwarze personally, he knew the young enforcer by reputation. Odds were good that he'd tried to take on the local mages mentioned in Samaris' reports. Schwarze was undeniably skilled, and almost as good as he thought he was, so it was possible he would succeed despite five-to-one odds. If he did, and managed to avoid instantly making the local news, they could easily wait for the rest of the fleet and then announce their presence.
If not, Kallson would have to set things in motion rather quicker than he really liked. It should be survivable, assuming the gods were not feeling fickle, to issue the standard ultimatum and have time for Siege of Tesephony to arrive – or rather, its ground-pounders. They had, for all intents and purposes, total control of the high orbitals here. While the locals had some weapons that could at least theoretically threaten his ships – atomics were nothing to sneeze at – they lacked any kind of delivery mechanism that he couldn't shoot down with ease.
A comm tech walked over. "Admiral, we have just received a report from Samaris. Mage-Captain Kars reports that they have recovered Enforcer Schwarze."
"Very good. Was the young Enforcer successful in his little foray?"
"They do not believe so, sir. When recovered, he was badly injured. He is currently being treated before a full debriefing."
Kallson suppressed the urge to sigh, nodded. "All right. Please ask Mage-Captain Kars to report as soon as he has additional information. For now, continue to monitor the planetary information networks. I want to know what they do about this."
"Yes, Admiral."
He looked back to the report, more to mask his racing thoughts than to study it. If the Enforcer came back in bad shape, it was even odds that the locals knew something was up.
After a few minutes he mentally shrugged and returned his attention to the report properly, reading more closely the information it contained about local forces. Another comm tech cleared her throat behind him to get his attention.
"Yes, Midshipwoman?"
"Sir, we've discovered something on the local comm nets. Lieutenant Fischer believes it to be important."
Fischer was seldom wrong on counts like that. Kallson nodded, followed the Middy back to her station. He and the Lieutenant exchanged nods.
"We found this on a news site. From the time chops, it was only posted a few minutes ago."
What they'd found was a video, one that looked to have been taken with some kind of low quality, handheld camera, that showed Enforcer Schwarze in battle with several yokel mages. The audio was poor, the sounds of alarms muffling the words of the fighters, but they could still make out Schwarze's voice as he proudly declared who he was and whom he fought for. Already there were paragraphs of speculation about what a Dimensional Republic of Bradeson was, and what they might want.
"How official is this news site?"
"It seems to be mostly unofficial, but from Samaris's reports, it sounds like anything that hits these unofficial pages makes the official ones not long after, they mostly seem to want to confirm things first."
"Reasonable. Not helpful for us, but reasonable." He paused, absently rubbing at his goatee. The proverbial cat was quite likely out of the bag at this point. He now had to figure out the best way to salvage the situation.
-------------
The transmission broke in over every broadcast on earth, relayed to the opposite side of the world via a few other ships in the expeditionary force. It blanked out the evening news in Japan, overrode the BBC's noon news in England, interrupted the morning news in North America. An audio version overrode comercial radio, civilian bands, and most military radio at the same time. It was accompanied by the orbiting fleet dropping their cloaks, setting off alarms at skywatch posts and military installations around the world.
For the first hour or so, it was denounced as some sort of prank, albeit a massively complex and well executed one. After that, however, visual sightings with telescopes, and radar telemetry began to confirm that there was in fact a fleet in orbit, and the first wave of mass panic began. The panic was spurred three hours after the transmission, when the DRB fleet enacted the first phase of its ultimatum.
It was a simple message, and to the point.
"This is Mage-Admiral Konrad Kallson in command of the Eighth Fleet of the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson to all of Earth's military and political leaders. Our ships are positioned in orbit around your world and we declare it a protectorate of the Republic. You can surrender and join us, or we will take your world by force of arms. We require an unconditional surrender from every major political leader on your world or we will take it by force of arms. You have three local days to respond. You also have three hours to suspend any and all air traffic. Any aircraft violating this ban will be destroyed."
"Your world belongs to the Dimensional Republic of Bradeson now. All that remains to be seen is how much of it will be destroyed before you accept that."
