A Ranma 0.5/DUAL! crossover
By Kijin
*Disclaimer*
None of these characters belong to me. Those you don't
recognize probably do, though.
====*====*====
Next time, I'll drive...
Chapter 2
"Relay Core Robot 2 to the Gamma sector!"
"Concentrate all fire to the weakened sections!"
"Unit 1 just depleted its Ammunitions reserve..."
"Prepare for evasive actions under enemy..."
"They can't take any more of this! Retreat behind the..."
"Robot 3 just gained the upper hand! Proceed with the assault!"
"Suppression fire at several stages, deliver at 30..."
"Core Unit 1 is sending a decrease in Life Sympathy levels!"
"Life Sympathy dropping at a progressive rate. 80, 75, 67,
50..."
"Commander, if this goes on, the Pilot's life will be in
jeopardy!"
Behind a desk, located above the command terminals manned by
control operators, a bespectacled man gazed at the tumult in displayed
in the numerous monitors of the Command Center. He took a moment to
address the readouts and draw his tactical analysis. What little it
showed was not good.
Below him, a woman glanced up from her keyboard to address her
superior officer.
"Commander, Core Robots 2 and 3 are holding steady, but Robot
1's Life sympathy has dropped to 15%!"
"What?!" The said commander turned to the operator.
"What's the status on the pilot?"
"Sir, the pilot is suffering from hemorrhaging, a severe
concussion, and several shrapnel wounds. Continuing the assault could
result in a casualty at hand, Sir!"
"Damn!" The Commander cursed, both Rara and the War in mind.
He issued a command to one of the Panel operators.
"Signal all pilots to retreat. We don't one of our pilots
to have to die for this. Damn Rara!" He cursed again.
"Life Sympathy has dropped to 0."
"Eject the Core unit." He needed no other preamble than that.
"The pilots safety is most essential here!"
"Opening hatch."
"Preliminary stages of ejection initiated."
"Powering Core robot down."
"Sir! An unidentified person has just entered the cockpit of the
Core Robot!"
This got the Commander's attention. "What's the status on the
Pilot?"
"Negative, Sir. The suit's sensors are down. As of now, we cannot
get a positive lock on her state."
"And the intruder?"
"Still negative, Sir!"
Suddenly, a shrill alarm sounded.
"Commander, we're reading some activity from Core Robot 1!"
Immediately, the said commander paid instant attention to
the deliverer of the news.
"Is the intruder trying to take over our Units? What about the
pilot?"
"She's still inside!" Then, the readings on her screen showed
something unbelievable.
"Life sympathy readings from CR-1! And, its..."
"It's...negative. Life Sympathy increasing Negatively!"
"That's impossible!" Exclaimed one woman.
"Nevertheless, its what we have here. And its still decreasing!"
"CR- 1 has engaged the enemy!"
"No!" Fear struck his heart. "The pilot is too injured!"
"Life Sympathy at -30%. -40%. -56%. 73%..."
"The ratios are still decreasing!"
"CR-1 is powering down. There is no activity whatsoever from
the enemy unit!"
"Enemy Unit has ceased...functioning."
Silence reigned supreme in the Control Center. One Operator
tentatively inquired.
"So...we won, right?"
====*====*====
Human beings are a curious race. Often, they find themselves in
situations beyond their control. Whether intentional, instinctive, or
suicidal, they always react to the events in varying degrees of
disbelief. Denial, after all, is a standard human reaction preceding
confusion. Ranma was no exception.
"This cannot be happening to me..."
He turned his thoughts back to ransacking the drugstore's counter.
He never thought he'd be in following in his Father's footsteps. Yet,
here he was, practicing what his father often preached as one of the
tenets of Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu : thievery.
"Great. Just freaking great. And here I thought Pop would never be
able to darken my shadow again!"
His regular visits to Tofu-sensei, both accidental and intentional,
gave him ample time to study general pharmacology and shiatsu from the
somewhat eccentric Doctor. Being the kind soul that he is, Tofu-sensei
had been only too glad to help. In any case, Ranma reminded himself
to thank his erstwhile mentor in medicine for his assistance. With
his knowledge, maybe he'd be able to help somebody else in return.
'Like a bleeding, tight-suited, silver-haired, female pilot of
a giant robot?' If anybody else had said that, most people would had
laughed. However, most people didn't know Ranma, either.
Before he left the girl, he'd infused her with a bit of ki
from his depleted reservoir, hoping it would stave any life
threatening internal injuries for a while. A bit of Ki, he'd found
out before, could do wonders for the body, if you knew how to
manipulate it. It could soften fatal blows, close wounds, accelerate
the healing process in an injured body...
Thinking about the Mecha and its pilot, Ranma's memories of
his brief stay inside its cockpit surfaced...
====*====*====
The green, Cyclops-machine lowered its arm after it had swung
it at Halzeenen, flinging the white robot into another building. The
impact shook the cockpit and its occupants, resulting in a grunt of
annoyance from Ranma and a groan of pain from the lady in his embrace.
At times like these, the pigtailed boy realized that the Kamis
were personally going medieval on his behind.
"Kuso! The girl's going to be in serious trouble if this keeps
up!"
The sound of monstrous, approaching footsteps reverberated
inside the cockpit. Like the knell of Doom, he morbidly decided.
"But what can I do? I don't even know how to control this
thing. Heck, I can't even see any control interfaces of some sort
anywhere!"
The Cyclops-machine stopped. Time froze for Ranma.
"Nani..."
A missile hatch hummed as it opened in the enemy mecha's under-
belly. A warhead peeked out from beneath its recesses. Beads of cold
sweat poured behind his head.
'This can't be good...'
The missile burst out from its missile launch pad, speeding
unerringly towards its target-him, of course. Ranma could only shout
his thoughts.
"KUUSSOOO!!!"
The explosions shockwave rocked the terrain for more than a mile
around. Where the incendiary hit, the only thing it left behind was a
crater.
Tentatively, Ranma opened his eyes, and surveyed the monitor.
Was Halzeenen hit? After a few moments of inspection he concluded
his inquiry.
"I'm...It missed me!" Mentally giving the Enemy Robot the
Bronx cheer at its apparent blindness, he paused. He looked at the
screens again. And drew one more conclusion to amend his earlier
mistake.
'It didn't miss. I...moved Halzeenen. I actually controlled it
for a while! But how? All I remembered doing was grabbing anything
near me, and holding...'
He looked at what he was holding. Two crystal clear globes
pulsing soft light with a slow beat. He stared incredulously. Was
this all there is to controlling Halzeenen? Was this its own version
of the Macross' Veritech thinking cap?
The question quickly became academic, the moment the Green
enemy Mecha fired off a burst of armor-piercing rounds. Instinctively,
he willed the Mecha to swerve to its left, evading a potentially
dangerous volley. Ranma was still for a moment, then thought :
'Yep. I guess that answers the question.'
He looked back at the charging Mecha.
"Alright, fun time's over, Jerk!"
Ducking under a predictable Haymaker, he struck with a series
of staccato strikes to the Enemy's underbelly. Blows powered by huge
motors beneath an alloyed frame crumpled the armor on the green Robot.
Halzeenen's blows pushed its enemy back, prompting the enemy Mecha to
retaliate with another burst from its weapon arm.
Gracefully, like a gigantic replica of gymnast, Halzeenen
flipped to the side, and swung a perfect round-house kick at the gun
arm. The force behind the attack tore off the Cyclops appendage,
leaving it without its main assault weaponry. It seemed to almost
back away, as if sensing emminent defeat.
"Ohhh, yes. You got that right, asshole!"
And without further ado, Ranma willed the Core Robot in a
dead run, towards the Cyclops-Mecha. It looked almost like it was
struck dumb by the sight. Ranma grinned.
Halzeenen jumped high into the atmosphere, high above its
target. With a triple twist at the apex of its ascent, it accelerated
downwards with a fist extended.
"Now YOU fry, freak! HAAAAAAAAAH!"
The impact shook the ground for miles, startling a few birds
from their roost some distance away. When the dustcloud cleared,
Halzeenen stood poised triumphantly, while the green enemy Robot...
What was left was the legs, the torso having exploded from
the extreme velocity of the punch. There was virtually no trace of
its upper body parts.
Gasping, Ranma shook himself from his reverie. He smiled
grimly. He sure showed that overgrown tank who's boss. Unknown to
him, his harsh gulps of air had awakened the pilot.
The woman slowly blinked her eyes, focusing on the person who
had her in an embrace. White sleeveless undershirt straining to keep
powerful muscles within its confines. Blue eyes clashing with black
bangs, framed in a face almost to pretty to be called handsome.
She'd never felt so safe in her entire life before. All in all, a
beautiful sight to behold.
She sighed, a beatific smile of bliss adorning her face, and
slipped backed into merciful unconsciousness, visions of a handsome,
blue-eyed prince in a white charger galloping in her dreams.
The White Warmachine kept its pose for a minute, then lowered
itself to a kneeling position. With a hum, the hatch opened, and
Ranma came out, the pilot still in his arms. All through the fight,
he had forgotten something. The question that plagued him ever since
he woke strapped up in a lab chair.
"Where in the World..."
====*====*====
"...am I now?" he wondered.
He blinked, and stared at his hands. He looked back the wall
clock hung in the Pharmacy's counter. He swore.
"Kuso! I've been standing here for two hours!! There's no time
for wool-gathering, Ranma no Baka! There's still a girl with serious
injuries waiting back there!"
Cursing his stupidity and the world in general, the pig-tailed
martial-artist ran out, carrying a few packages of drugs safely within
his arms.
An hour and a half prior to this, the Global Defense Force
personnel had picked up the CR-1 and its pilot. Medical personnel
immediately attended the injured woman, stripping off the red shirt
covering her. The pilot of CR-2, however, paid close attention to the
said item. She looked more closely at what she held. It was a red,
longsleeved, Chinese shirt .
====*====*====
"So, what do you make of this?"
"We're still investigating this phenomena, Sir. Apparently, a
few minutes before this, Core Robot-1 had been under heavy fire by
our own Rara Unit, and Victory seemed the likely conclusion."
"But..."
"A few minutes later, CR-1, despite the lack of weaponry,
attacked our Rara unit in Hand to Hand. The Unit quickly overpowered
our own, and resulted in its destruction. We know that it was still
the same unit, but our investigation teams are still at a loss to
explain the sudden change in power level of the GDF's unit. With
your permission, Sir, I would like to form a team to investigate
this matter further."
"Very well. As of now, I'll give you permission to do what you
think needs to be done. Keep me posted on the latest developments on
the Investigation."
"Hai. With your permission, Sir."
"You may go."
Seeing the subordinate leave, the bald head turned back to the
screen, which showed the wrestling of two mechanical wonders in all
out prizefight. His ornate robe rustled as he stood up from his seat,
a frown twisting his face.
'What are you up to now, Sanada?'
====*====*====
In a lab, Global Defense Force Headquarters.
A group of people huddled around the lab table, some of them
vigorously taking notes, others mumbled incoherently to themselves.
One, a spectacled, middle-aged man with wild hair, however, gazed
impassively at the Unit currently being examined. The object in
question is the Core Unit, a component resembling a crystal globe the
size of a basketball surrounded by a crown similar to a tuning fork
with three prongs. He turned to an Aide beside him.
"What do you have on the Core Unit? Any video, An energy track,
anything at all to provide a clue?"
"Yes, Chief Commander. The Core has a very accurate recording
on some of the events. According to the readings, there seemed to
have been a second occupant that was inside the Core robot, besides
the pilot, inside the Core Robot. This person then gained control
of the Core Robot and defeated the enemy for us. However, this
unidentified pilot soon disappeared after Rara's defeat. We do
have an audio recording of the events that transpired inside the
cockpit, though."
"Good," The Commander nodded, and ordered the aide to play the
recording. Everybody at the table listened in rapt attention to the
audio.
"Kuso! The girl's going to be in serious trouble if this keeps
up!"
Pause.
"But what can I do? I don't even know how to control this
thing. Heck, I can't even see any control interfaces of some sort
anywhere!"
Pause.
"Nani..."
"KUUSSOOO!!!"
Pause.
"I'm...It missed me!"
Pause. Forward.
"Alright, fun time's over, Jerk!"
Pause. Forward.
"Now YOU fry, freak! HAAAAAAAAAH!"
The Aide Addressed his superior officer. "That's it, Commander."
The Commander did not hear the last thing he said. He had a
slightly maniacal grin on his face, one that a child wore whenever
he had a new toy to play with.
'This is incredible! He's actually here! I'll need a little
bit of *her* help for this...'
====*====*====
"...So you see, now you know why we can't send another for
this mission. It has to be you, and no one else."
The Commander looked at the figure decked in the skintight
pilot suit. The girl had two long brown ponytails hanging from
either side of her helmet. She faced the commander, and waited for
him to continue.
"Well?"
She paused, then nodded. She left the room immediately after
her that.
The Chief Commander of the Global Defense Forces, Sanada
Kensuke, leaned back in his plush office chair (being the highest
ranked officer in the GDF had its perks) and smiled. All was well
in the world, figuratively speaking, of course.
The intercom buzzed. "Sir, a call for you on line 8."
"Oh? Who is it?"
"Its Inspector Yamano, Sir. She says its urgent."
Commander Sanada grinned. One of the 'perks' of the job just
came by.
"By all means, patch her in!"
The monitor in front of him sprang to life, revealing the
frowning visage of Inspector Yamano Akane, of the United Nations.
"Ah, Inspector Yamano. How nice it is to see you! May I take
the time to compliment you on your dress? You particularly
gorgeous today, If I must say!"
"For your information, Sanada, I happen to be wearing the
prescribed uniform of an Officer, as befits one of my rank." Came
the rather annoyed response of Inspector Yamano. "I have no time for
your meaningless verbal conundrums. I called you for a very important
reason."
"Ah, you wound me so!" Sanada proclaimed dramatically. "I
only wished to pay tribute to the wonder that is your beauty."
A vein visibly appeared on the Inspector's forehead. "SANADA!
I said I called you for a very important reason! Don't try to
evading the issue! I know you have an audio recording on the battle
that you kept hidden from me! I tried to access the sound file, but
you had it on a classified status! The GDF is still under the command
of the U.N., so I want that file and I want it NOW! "
Sanada merely smiled inanely at Yamano. "Inspector, you
shouldn't frown, you know. It'll give you wrinkles. Why don't we go
out for a nice dinner in town, instead." He grinned boyishly, "I can
make it worth your while."
The poor woman buried her face in her hands. 'Why did I ever
keep this job, anyway?' Out loud, she pleaded. "Please, Commander,
I need to have a copy of the file. You can't expect me to do my job
properly without it. Please." she pleaded once again.
Sanada seemed to relent. "Oh, alright. Here, I'm uploading
the file to you, now." His smile never wavered.
Inspector Yamano sighed audibly, silently thanking the stars
for having shown some mercy on her.
"And Inspector?" The commander turned back before he disconnected
the line.
"Yes?"
"I'll come by at about 8 tomorrow."
"NANI!?"
"Ja!"
"Wait! I..."
Her protest was drowned by the disappearance of the
Commander's face from the screen. Oh why, oh why, did she even stay
an Inspector, anyway? She could have had a nice, boring desk job.
But then again, she'd never meet the irritating, yet fascinating
Sanada Ken if she did...
She reddened, and immediately cut off *that* train of thought.
She did *not* like him! Well, she amended, at least she didn't
*exactly* hate him.
Yamano turned back to the screen, with a message showing the end
of the file transfer. Playing the Audio file, she mollified herself.
'At least I got want I wanted.' She started to smile, but the
smile froze-
"Ahhh! Yes!"
"More!"
"Ohh! Harder, harder!"
"You're so big!"
-as the sound clip from an X-rated film played loud clear from
her speakers.
Inspector Yamano's eyebrow began to twitch like there was no
tomorrow.
"That...that...BAKA!"
====*====*====
It was late at night. The stars, twinkling brightly in the
inky background of the night sky. For some, watching balls of super-
heated gas suspended millions of light-years away in space would
be a waste of time. For a certain martial-artist, though, such
a display would have taken his breath away, as it always did, even
back when he was still in Nerima.
He lay sprawled on a park bench, gazing at the endless expanse
people called the sky. Stargazing was one of his favorite things to
do, especially since it gave him a brief respite from the chaos
that usually followed him in Nerima. At least, he thought, it gave
me the chance to appreciate the simpler things life. My Old life,
that is.
'Are we lying beneath the same night sky, Mother?'
Leaving his mother had been one of the most hardest hurdles
he had to cross in his life. She embodied everything he admired
in a person, like Kasumi-oneechan, the girl he considered the Big
Sister he never had. Thinking of another person he truly liked,
but had left behind, worsened his sense of depression and loss. If
this continued, He'd be able to fire off a Perfect Shi Shi Hokodan
that would make Ryouga's best look like a firecracker without even
half-trying. He shook his head.
'No! I am Ranma, The Wild Horse of Chaos! I won't let myself
be beaten by a few memories. Mother and Kasumi would have wanted me
to move on. I'll always cherish the memories they'd given me. It will
be the pillar that I can lean on with tests of time. No, Ranma never
loses, and I will never be defeated!'
Heartened by his own thoughts, he started coming up on a plan
of action. That meant replaying every detail of the events that
happened a few hours ago. He stopped his mental rewinding. There had
been something off about what happened. Alright, starting the recap
of events.
First, coming to Mitsuki's, then meeting the slightly (in his
opinion) deranged physicist Sanada Ken. Then being strapped to a
strange chair, which turned out to be a a machine the professor
invented which could *supposedly* transport a subject into a
parallel dimension. Bright lights flashing, yada yada yada, wake up
weak as a baby. Walking through a deserted city, and seeing a White
Mecha which he'd always dismiss as a hallucination. A female pilot
bleeding and injured, and him riding the mecha as easily as a
veteran, incidentally destroying another one in the process. He runs
off for a moment, spends a few minutes looking for medicine, gets
lost in his thoughts for *hours*. Returning to the battle site only
to find any evidence of the mentioned conflict gone, without a trace,
including the injured pilot. So, what, seemed to be Off about the
story?
Ranma snorted to himself, and shook his head. 'Well, duh,
Everything was strange about it! Most of it shouldn't even be
happening. But I guess I can never really escape the chaos that's
become so familiar. My escape from Nerima was only a tactic that
delayed the inevitable.'
The Battle with the machines gave him another mental tidbit to
chew on. What had happened to her, the pilot of Halzeenen? Did the
enemy capture her? Was she safe?
He sighed. 'Only time or circumstance will answer my question.
Besides,' he thought morosely, 'knowing my luck, I'll have my question
answered. But I'm sure it won't be in a way I'd like.'
====*====*====
She opened her eyes to the harsh, Spartan cleanliness of a
hospital room, bereft of the comforting embrace that had soothed her
troubled sleep and given saccharine dreams. She glanced around,
catching the attention of an elegant, elderly woman on the corner.
"Yayoi, you're awake." The woman shuffled towards the bed,
Kimono rustling as she did so. "You been asleep for a few hours since
the battle, and we weren't sure you'd wake this soon."
Yayoi looked at her grandmother's face, trying to discern what
she had found disturbing from the phrase.
"Grandmother, what wrong? Where there any casualties?"
The stately matriarch shook her head. "No, nothing like that.
Our side won the battle today, with minimum damage on public
properties and government reserves. I'm glad your safe."
"Then why do you look a bit...perplexed? I haven't seen that
expression on your face since the time you tried to set up a match
between Suzume and Daisuke." She smiled in remembrance.
Reika smiled back in return. "No, its not really that. Its
just that...when they found you in the cockpit, the floor was steeped
in blood. They paramedics say you must have lost a few pints of blood,
judging from the wounds and the 'direct evidence'. The doctors didn't
expect you to be in stable condition for at least a week. But when
admitted you here, they found that your injuries regenerated at an
exponential rate, several times that of the norm. Your injuries
literally healed overnight, with your wounds closing up leaving only
a faint scar behind!" She sighed, her face betraying her happiness
at the discovery that a potential personal calamity had been
averted. She continued on with her story.
"And what puzzles me more, was this."
Reika walked up to the wall, retrieving a crimson, silken shirt
with wooden ties. "They found this wrapped around you. The GDF
personnel had no idea where it came from. It was probably owned by
the mysterious person who manned the Robot you piloted."
The elderly woman gave her the shirt, voicing her own opinion.
"Its as if a passing Kami had taken a liking to you and
decided that you needed assistance."
Yayoi took the shirt in her hands, hugging it tightly to
herself. She vividly remembered the ice blue eyes that infringed
upon her dreams, The owner having rescued her from the cruel embrace
of death. And into another embrace, one infinitely preferable and
far more desirable.
"No, not a Kami..."
"Pardon?" said Reika.
"An...Angel..."
====*====*====
"...don't know who you are, but get out of my property before
I call the Police!"
"Fujita-san! Its me, Kazeno Ranma! I'm one of your tenants,
remember?"
The old man merely looked irritated. "Young man, I've kept
records of every one of my tenants, and I don't remember ever having
a Kazeno on my list! That's not even a real family name, so don't
try to make a fool out of me, and Leave, NOW!"
Ranma felt frustrated. The Old man was clearly in the dark
about his identity. He actually did not know him, even in passing.
Ranma thought that he might have been playing a joke, albeit a
cruel one. But he could not, would not, even think the Old guy would
ever do that. If there was one thing he knew about Fujita-san, it
was the fact that he treated his tenants with outmost respect and
kindness.
Bystanders had watched the drama with no little anger. The
nerve of some people. Using a city-wide alert to rob an old man.
They took a step forward and glared menacingly at the young man
with the audacity to do that.
Ranma stood numbly, jaws slack. Nobody here remembered him,
or would defend his position if they did so. The Fates truly had
their fun turning his life into the hell it once was. It did not
seem fair to him, but maybe, this wasn't truly his world. And maybe,
no one really knew who he was.
He bowed respectfully to the Old man, and held his bent
position for a while. "Fujita-san. I am deeply sorry for the
disharmony I have caused you." He straightened, then took out a
few dozen 1000-yen bills from within his pocket and thrusted it
at the now dumbfounded man. "I that this meager sum would be
reparation enough for the troubles I have brought."
He quickly turned on his heels, and slowly walked away. His
impromptu audience, who earlier had animosity in their eyes, now felt
only sympathy, for they had seen true remorse in his face. It was the
wrong for them to do.
Ranma could not stand that. Anger, he had experience with.
Indifference, he could let pass. But the one thing he truly hated was
Pity. He dropped to a dead run, then leapt to the rooftops, not caring
who would see him.
After half an hour, the pig-tailed boy slowed down. Roof-hopping
took away the remaining depression he had. He felt better now, though
not by much. Remembering a shirt he had hidden somewhere, he rummaged
through weaponspace, and came up with another red silk shirt. He wore
it solemnly, still a bit out of it. He walked aimlessly along the dim
road, counting what few blessings he had. 'I'm alive. That counts for
something, at least.'
Giving the old man most of his money was too impulsive an act,
he decided. He took out the remaining bills he had. Just enough for a
few meals. After that, he'd have to find a few odd jobs to survive.
Depression set again.
"This wasn't what I had in mind."
"Ranma."
He spun. "Huh?"
Floodlights and headlights suddenly flashed with blinding
brightness. He closed his eyes in an attempt to regain some of his
vision. Slowly opening them after adjusting a bit to the light, he
saw around several dozen police officers and cars surrounding him.
He cursed. He had wallowed too much in self-pity that he forgot
to be aware of his surroundings.
What caught his attention was the lone woman that stood beside
a spotlight. He squinted, struggling to make out her features. She
was very familiar...
The woman looked at him, and ordered the men beside her crisply.
"He's the one. Capture him!"
He blinked, not able to believe what he had just heard. Officers
immediately closed on him.
"Sorry, son. We have to take you in."
"Nani? But what did I do? Do you even have a warrant..."
Another officer cut him off. "We don't need any of that crap.
All you need to know is that some very important people want you to
meet them, and were here to take you to them."
Needless to say, Ranma became incensed. This crazy world had
screwed him up far too many times. He had changed, but he was still
far from being a pacifist. A direct confrontation is still his forte.
It was time he kicked some ass.
"Oh yeah? Then you'd have to stop me from leaving, first!"
The officers seemed amused. "So what *are* you going to do?
Cry for your Mommy?" There was a collective laugh at this.
The young martial-artist's eyes narrowed. If there was one thing
that was guaranteed to piss him off royally, It was to mock at his
masculinity, and make jokes concerning his mother. The policemen had
only fed fuel to the fire.
"Wrong thing to say." And he faded from sight(1).
The police officers gaped for a bit, then spun around themselves,
hoping for a glimpse of their quarry.
"Where the heck..."
"Search the area! He can't be gone for more than a minute!"
"Kami, what is this kid?"
"Hey, Where's my partner?"
"Aoba, where did you go?"
"Captain, some of our men are missing!"
"Impossible! They were here a moment ago!"
At this point, fear and anxiety ran rampantly through the
their ranks. Even as they spoke, the men kept disappearing. It was
as if an invisible man strode silently among them and picked them
off one by one. There now only 9 men left.
"Captain..." The sergeant nervously handled his sidearm.
"Form a tight cluster! Ma'am, you better come closer."
"Sir we found some of our men! They were lying unconscious
some distance from here, behind the squad cars!"
"Be glad they are only unconscious."
They spun to face the speaker. It was Ranma. And he had slightly
cruel smirk on his face. They leveled their weapons at him.
"Freeze! Don't move a muscle, kid!"
Ranma laughed. "Do you think your weapons make me scared?"
One of the officers, fear finally overcoming him, screamed
a profanity and fired his submachine-gun. The bullets only hit air,
though.
"No!" Screamed the woman. "Ceasefire! Don't hurt him!"
Ranma lost all patience with the cops. In a blur of movement,
he attacked the remaining men and sent them to slumberland after a
few seconds. He dusted his hands in satisfaction.
"Hmmp. A bunch of pansies...now for you." And turned towards
the woman.
"Why did you order them to arrest me?" He advanced steadily.
The woman stayed silent.
"Who do you work for?" He asked when he was only a few feet
away. "What do you want?!"
Then, the woman happened to tilt her head, just so, for the
light to illuminate her features. A face that Ranma found very
familiar.
"Mitsuki...?"
Mitsuki smiled, and stepped closer to him. "Ranma."
He still couldn't believe his eyes. "Is it really...?"
If anything, her smile grew wider. "Yep. And Ranma?"
"Yes?"
He felt something sting his hand. He looked down, and saw a
tranquilizer gun in her hand. The pig-tailed boy's vision began to
swim.
"Sorry about this..."
====*====*====
"Are you sure that's him?"
"Of course I'm sure, Father."
"Really? You never mentioned he could take on an entire squad
in hand to hand."
"That sort of took me by surprise, too. I wonder what else he
can do..."
"We should have anticipated that he would have resisted an
obviously counterfeit arrest. And look what happened."
"Thankfully, I brought a trank gun with me. I knew that he was
stubborn, just not to this extent, though."
"Commander, the boy just woke up!"
"Impossible! I put enough trank in the settings to knock him
out for 12 hours! It been only 45 minutes."
"Its probably just one of his 'special abilities'. Come, we
must inform him more about the situation at hand."
====*====*====
When Ranma woke up strapped to a Lab table, he groaned and
cursed the world in general. This was beginning to become a
recurring theme.
The room he was in was devoid of any furniture, except the
table, of course. It was made out of reinforced concrete, built to
insure that a prisoner stayed in. There was a small door on side,
and the mirror in front of him probably was one-sided.
"Ah, Ranma. It seems that you're awake! How do you feel now?"
A cheerful voice reverberated within the walls, seemingly from
nowhere.
Ranma snorted, and tested his bonds. A couple of two-inch
steel manacles. Nothing special.
"Just peachy, thank you very much. Do you mind taking this
off me?"
"Why, certainly!" The shackles clicked, then sprang open.
"There, is that better?"
"Much." He rubbed his wrists. "So, how about letting me out of
this room?"
He could almost feel the owner of the voice sweatdrop. "Uhhm,
I'm afraid that won't be possible for a while..."
"Why not?" Ranma asked bluntly.
"You see...I.."
"Well?"
"I , well, sort of...uhhm... lost the keys to the door, heh
heh."
Ranma could only mutter to himself. "Figures..."
The voice took on a cheery note once again.
"Don't worry! My men has sent a couple of professional
demolitionists. They'll have you out in no time!"
"I haven't eaten the whole day, and i get really cranky when
ever I feel hungry. How long will it take for those guys to come?"
"About 2 hours. Don't worry, you'll get to eat soon enough!"
The martial-artist shook his head. "That's too long for my
comfort. I need to get out and eat NOW!"
"I told you, the door's still..."
He waved his hand, and stretched for a bit. "Doesn't matter.
I'll just make my own door."
"Wait! How are...?"
Ranma strode up to a wall, where he thought the hallway
would lie. He inspected the blank feature for a moment, then poked it
with a casual gesture. "Bakusai Tenketsu(2)."
The results were explosive. The concrete walls burst outwards,
creating a hole three meters in diameter. Ranma stepped out of the
dust cloud and faced the awestruck spectators in the hallways. Seeing
that they were going to be out of it for a while, he addressed the
curious Commander Sanada as he came out of the room adjoining the
the one he just came out.
"So...when do we get to eat?"
====*====*====
"Ahh, that sure hit the spot! Got anything to drink around
here?" Ranma asked his tablemates.
There was no answer. Commander Sanada and his guards were too
gawking at him for the words to register in their brains.
'I've never seen anyone eat so much!' The words echoed in more
than one mind.
"Heh, do you know something?" The pig-tailed boy quizzed.
A collective shaking of heads ensued.
"Even in a parallel World, Dr. Sanada's hair still disobeys
the rules of gravity!" He laughed at his own joke.
Most of them were still too awestruck at his eating habits to
hear the joke. Commander Sanada, however, was the lone exception. He
decided to cut him off before he could reveal anything else of a
sensitive matter.
"Err, Ranma, was it?" Nod. "Ranma, why don't we take this to
my private office. It would hardly do for us to talk in a cafeteria."
Ranma shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me." And burped.
They walked back towards the Commanders office. Ranma spent
the time sightseeing the entire GDF headquarters. Finally, they
arrived at a wide door with the GDF emblem painted on it. Commander
Sanada invited Ranma inside, and left his guards outside.
"So, mind telling me what the heck's going?" Ranma started the
the ball rolling.
"First, allow me to introduce myself." The Commander drew
himself to a self-righteous pose. "I am Sanada Ken, 49 years old,
Genius extraordinaire." He shook his fist in the air. "I'm a
brilliant Physicist who first theorized the existence of Parallel
Worlds, but now I'm the Chief Commander of the Global Defense
Forces." He pointed a finger at Ranma. "I've been waiting to meet
someone like you for a long time, Ranma."
At this time, Ranma grew a huge sweatdrop at the Commander,
unable to shake off the sense of deja vu. "Riiight. So why have you
waited a long time for someone like me, exactly."
The Commander grinned. "Why, to prove the existence of
Parallel Worlds, of course. I know that you came from the other world.
With you at my side, I could shake the very foundations of the
Scientific Community!" He shook his fist and cried as his emotions
overcame him.
"Look," Ranma sighed, exasperated, "Now that you've admitted
the I came from a parallel world, why don't you just send me home.
After all, it WAS your fault that ended up in this messed-up world
in the first place!"
Sanada looked solemnly at him for a moment, then gave his
answer. "Totally out of the question."
"What!" needless to say, the pigtailed martial artist was
incensed.
Sanada tried to explain to irate boy. "It's been several years
since I last held a printout from one of the scanners that regulate
the Dimensional Transport, It would take me years just to repair
the damage to the device, and a few more to set it up and running."
"Send me back! This isn't my world! I can't stay here forever.
What about school, or my stuff, Mother..."
Sanada laid an arm on the distressed young man. "I'm truly
sorry, but with a war in our hands, we simply cannot provide the
time or manpower to help you. Until the war ends, I cannot provide
any assistance that would prove to be of any use to you. For that,
I can only give you my sincerest apologies."
Ranma slumped back into a chair. He couldn't believe it. He
was stuck in this god-forsaken dimension with no hope of going home
until a war had been brought to its culmination. The future seemed
as bleak as they ever were for him.
"Doomed...doomed I tell ya..."
Cheerfully, the Commander slapped in the back. "Oh, don't be
so blue, Ranma. Things aren't as bad as they look like!"
"Yeah, they're worse..." He mumbled.
A viewscreen opened. "Commander, the Inspector requests your
presence at the Control Center right away, Sir. She says Rara has
a message."
He nodded. "I'll be there in a second." He turned back to
Ranma. "We'll talk later, Ranma. Don't be so grumpy about things!"
Wearily, Ranma looked at him. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Why don't you ask her?" The Commander smiled, depressing a
button. He and his chair began descending into an opening under
the seat, disappearing from view.
'Her?' Ranma wondered.
"We meet again."
He turned to the voice's source. Beneath the doorway stood a
brown-haired girl in a standard Fuku. He looked at her in askance.
"You...are you...?"
The girl smiled widely. "So, have you figured it out yet?"
His brows drew together as he squinted, trying to make sense
of her ambiguous words. His eyes widened as realization set in.
"You...you're...?"
====*====*====
End Chapter 2.
====*====*====
(1) Ranma used one of the Umi-Sen-Ken's forbidden techniques, the
Goshin Dai Ryu Sei Fu. Only this time, he created a version that
wouldn't need a piece of cloth as an accessory.
(2) Most people think Ranma doesn't know the breaking point. Hey,
the guy's an eidetic, AND a genius when it comes to learning a new
technique. He'd easily be able to duplicate Ryoga's feat.
Notes :
The cliffhanger attempt really, really sucks...(iknow,iknow!).
Ranma might be a little OOC here. But think about it. The Guy
went through a lot. There'd be some obvious changes, especially if
he really wanted it to happen. If he sounds a bit more educated, its
because he wanted to start everything anew, so he took school a bit
more seriously, if only to spite Genma.
Besides, this is a Fanfiction. Authors are allowed a little
creative freedom (insert deranged super-villain cackle).
By the way, special thanks to the wonderful Disciples for
giving me this challenge, and posting it in the "Church of Kasumi and
Ranma" Page. Without them, I'd still be wallowing in grief, generally
crying about the unfairness of the world.
Maybe I'll take on the Escaflowne/Ranma idea Darkchun had in
mind, next...
Send all C&C to carlopim@yahoo.com . Flames will be used to
fuel the Steam locomotive I keep in my backyard.
