Idols

By Kyle Emmerson

Ranma 1/2 and all of its characters and situations are the sole
property of Rumiko Takahashi. I use these characters and situations
without permission.

Prologue: Zodiac

****

The still, narrow eyes watched silently from the dense bush
surrounding the jungle temple. Had the owner of the eyes been unwary, they
might not have noticed the thick walls and traps surrounding the
perimeter. But these eyes were trained to notice everything.

The traps would be simple enough to avoid. All but the most novice of
martial artists could avoid the walls with ease. However, he was neither
novice, nor a trained martial artist.

The outward appearance he put out was military. US Marine, more than
likely, due to the tattoo on his left arm which bore the presence of his
infantry logo, and the words 'semper fi' in gothic font underneath.

But if this man was military once, he no longer was. Otherwise, his
very presence in that jungle would be considered a waste of time. He drew
his attention back to the wall. The method he would use on getting over
the wall would all depend upon whether or not his orders entailed a
less... noticeable presence.

"Nutcracker to Rat King," he spoke over the two-way radio he carried
with him. "Come in, Rat King."

"Rat King here, Nutcracker. Candyland objective?"

"Objective one reached, Rat King. Objective Two, Plan A is
attemptable." Plan 'A' was the simple code they had used for a simple back
door entrance. Quick in, quick out. They didn't want to be seen if they
could get away with it.

"Secure Candyland ASAP, Nutcracker," The Rat King replied
indifferently. 'Nutcracker' smiled. This meant it didn't matter how they
took over Candyland, as long as their main objective was reached.

"Affirmative."

Within moments, Nutcracker, and his suite of retired soldiers and
mercenaries were on their way.

****

The life of a simple priest was known to be... well... simple. Wake up
in the morning, worship Nature, God, Buddha, Amaterasu Ohmikami, Fei
Liang, or whatever your particular sect worshipped, then move on to
breakfast. But then, what usually followed was simply thanking Nature,
God, Buddha, Amaterasu Ohmikami, Fei Liang, or... well, you got the
picture.

In fact, very few priests did anything other than worship who he was
supposed to worship, study, and devote his life to the worshipee.

Fortunately, Pi Sang, was one of those few priests. In fact, he was
quite sure that if he were one of the OTHER priests, who could do nothing
but worship and study... He quite literally would have lost his mind.

Still, being in a jungle temple, miles away from the closest trace of
civilization, which happened to be Pingkiang, in the Wan Fou Shan mountain
range of the Kiangsi province in Southeastern China was not Pi's idea of a
fun life.

Still, he did get his yearly sabbaticals every now and then, and BOY,
did he have a hell of a time painting the town red. He'd gone to a local
airfield and arranged for passage to Europe, and found he rather enjoyed
Monte Carlo. The Casinos were everything he needed to spice up his dull
life in the priesthood.

But then, his sect wasn't exactly your ordinary sect, either. Very few
priests were ever allowed into the sect, and those who were welcomed in,
were not welcomed because of the level of religious devotion they had.

It was their loyalty and fighting ability.

Pi Sang was the head Priest of the Temple of the Goat. Leading a grand
total of four other priests, making five of them once all added up. Their
job?

Protect the Shawl with their lives.

The Shawl itself was nothing much to look at. A simple bundle of
poorly knit cloth, with the simple image of a goat's horns on the side.
One wouldn't expect to need five people to protect a thing that would be
dumped out with the trash at the next garbage day in the city...

But the Shawl had a secret. A secret that only the five priests at the
temple, and the grand council in Qinghai knew of.

Or so he thought.

"Master Pi," one of the young priests said, coming up to the elder.

"Yes, what is it?" Pi was quick to lose his temper. It came from his
days when he was younger. Quick, arrogant and impatient.

"Master, *we have guests*," the priest said, not losing eye contact.

Pi's eyes opened wide. "Guests?"

The younger priest nodded.

Pi sighed. "Very well," he said. "You know what to do."

And with that, the younger priest made his exit. Within moments, the
entire temple knew of the uninvited guests... and the guests knew they had
been uncovered.

****

"Sir!" one of Nutcracker's men called. "We've been--"

"If you say we've been discovered, I'll rip off your testicles and
shove them down your left nostril," Nutcracker himself replied, shooting a
menacing gaze back to the one who had spoken. "I know already, you idiot.
You think they're ringing those bells because it's time to mambo?"

The man shied back and kept his head low.

"All right!" Nutcracker yelled. "Plan A has been compromised, we move
to Plan B." He took a semiautomatic pistol from his belt-holster and
pulled back the hammer. "Terminate any and all complications!"

With that, one of Nutcracker's men ran up to the wall and planted a
small box at the base. Once he was far enough away, the wall blew in,
shedding dirt and stone over the occupants.

"Locate the objective!" he cried. "Bring it to me!"

****

Pi Sang hugged the wall with all of his strength. Explosives! They had
used explosives on them!

Trained martial artists, they were. All of them were at least sixth
degree, but against guns and explosives?!

Pi looked down into the yard and saw one of the younger priests
crushed by a piece of flying wall. One dead, four to go.

Pi swore at himself. No, not four to go. The four of them had to
protect the Shawl, they HAD to. If they didn't it meant...

He released the wall and turned toward the fray. Three of the younger
priests had already jumped into the yard, and were already engaging in
hand-to-hand combat with the intruders.

Pi jumped down only to see one of them get the top of their head blown
away by the weapon of the nearest intruder.

Fool! Idiot! He could have disarmed him with ease, there was no way he
could have been so careless!

But he was. Pi growled and jumped at the man with a fury never met
before. Within moments, he was without his weapon, and fell to the ground
with a broken neck.

Pi turned to the next, but paused almost immediately.

*SOMETHING* wasn't right.

He looked toward the ruin of the wall, and frowned. The other two
priests were holding up okay, ripping through the intruders like they were
mere annoyances, but there was something...

The glowing ball almost escaped Pi Sang's notice entirely. In fact,
had he been a second later in his movements, he was almost sure it was
have hit him, nearly nailing him against the wall and killing him.

How on Earth? It had been a ki-ball, that was certain. Pi Sang had
heard of them, certainly. Even seen one or two, on occasion, but that was
only by some of the Council Members in Qinghai, or someone with one of the
Twelve Idols.

But then... what did he just see? Certainly the Council wasn't
attacking. They would not stoop so low as to use guns, and certainly
wouldn't kill their own people in a simple test. Which left two possible
options.

Either it was a martial artist of such training and caliber that he or
she had mastered throwing a ki-ball, or... someone with one of the Twelve
Idols.

The first was absurd. Anyone with that level of training certainly
wouldn't resort to guns, explosives, or... mercenaries with little combat
training.

Which could only mean the second. They had one of the Twelve Idols,
which could only mean...

The Shawl! He had to get to the Shawl!

Turning quickly toward the inner temple, Pi Sang ran. He had to get to
the Shawl before they did. What would he do then, however? The only
possible option would be to find his way to Qinghai. Of course, he could
catch a train to Xining at the closest town, only a half-days journey, and
find his way into the mountains later. It would have to work, otherwise--

The noise of the gunshot was loud, it nearly deafened Pi Sang, but as
he tumbled end of end, his main concern wasn't the sound, nor was it the
splitting pain he felt in his shoulder. His bone was shattered, that much
was certain, but... how was that gunshot so close?

He clamped one hand on his shoulder and rose to his knees, looking
toward the direction he had been running from.

Sure enough, a man stood there. A large man, wearing a tight fitting
camouflage tank-top. His muscles bulged from beneath, and his
army-issue fatigues did little to hide the man's apparent background.

"The Shawl, old man," the man said, in perfect Mandarin.

Pi Sang backed up a step, his eyes scanning the man. How had--

Then he had seen it. He had seen it, and disbelief riddled the old
Priest's senses.

The man in front of him placed his gun back in the holster. "Yeah," he
said, fiddling with the striped bracelets on is wrists. Also, around his
ankles were a matching pair of anklets. "You know what these are, don't
you?"

"The... Tiger," Pi stammered. "How...?"

"Come on, Old Man. You think it was hard? Honestly, those guys in
Korea couldn't guard their Grandmother."

"You know not of what you're doing!" Pi exclaimed. "You cannot know
what you will bring upon us!"

"Oh, it's not me that will be bringing it," the man said. "I just work
for the guy."

The bracelets, Pi Sang thought to himself. It was true. The Tiger's
Den in Korea had been destroyed, their Idols taken... which happened to be
the set of bracelets and anklets the stranger was wearing. That particular
Idol granted speed beyond anything. Anyone found wearing them could outrun
an airplane. But... that didn't explain the ki-ball... unless...

"The... Dragon?" Pi Sang asked meekly.

The man scoffed. "Naw, not yet," he said. "But we do have the Monkey.
That would have been Kelly."

"No," Pi said, the colour draining from his face. Still, if they
hadn't gotten the Dragon yet.

"Now," the man continued. "The Shawl, old man."

Pi Sang weighed his options. Could he outrun a man wearing the Tiger's
Idol, or... would he succumb to the man's wishes and give in to death?

Either way would bring death... Just one quicker than the other, but
with the first option, there was still a CHANCE.

He looked around meekly. The woman with the Idol of the Rooster almost
certainly stood outside of the temple walls. Did they have more Idols?
Could they have more than six? The Monkey was in Japan, but the Dragon was
still in China. Had they reached that far east yet? Could they already
have gotten the Idols in North America and Europe?

Pi Sang took a deep breath. He had to try.

Clutching at his shoulder, Pi Sang took flight, jumping high over the
temple walls.

****

Nutcracker shook his head sadly. "Idiot," he cursed, ready to give
chase to the old man that jumped over the wall. He could easily take his
time, it hardly mattered. After all, the old man would be easy to find. In
fact, he'd probably slip into a coma and die from blood loss alone. It was
much too far to the closest city.

"Ahh, screw it," he said, then turned around. All the other priests
were dead, no problem. He looked around the temple and located a small
building at the center of the yard. Doubtless, that was where the Shawl
was kept.

He stepped into the building and smiled at the old cloth sitting at
the center of the altar. He reached over and picked it up--

"--In Japan, that's where they brought it!"

He dropped it almost instantly, then blinked at it.

Interesting. That had been his bosses voice... and face. He could have
sworn... That meant that the Shawl was meant for the positive. The Yin.
The Male. But its purpose...

Nutcracker smiled. That was obvious.

Precognition.

Lifting it with his boot, he dropped it into a small pack and picked
up his radio, stepping out into the yard once again. All his men stood
there, staring at Nutcracker. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kelly
poke her head into the courtyard, winking at him.

"Nutcracker to Rat King. Candyland secure," he said over the radio.

"Have you lost any toys, Nutcracker?"

"One, but the toy is damaged."

"How damaged?"

"Fatally."

"Good work, Nutcracker. Retrieve the sheep and clean up Candyland. I
want you out of Kiangsi ASAP."

"Affirmative."

Little more than five minutes later, the temple was no more than a
charred spot on the map of China.

****

Pi Sang sighed, and stared toward the sky, thanking whoever was in
charge up there profusely.

It had been most grueling the first twelve hours after his escape. Not
having use of his arm and the constant bleeding had slowed him down
considerably. In fact, he had almost died.

But after twelve hours of running on pure adrenaline, he stumbled
across the civilized world.

It was merely a farm. A simple farm, and he frantically ran and
knocked on the door, begging for medical attention from whoever was
home...

Unfortunately, the twilight had been at it's peak, and nobody
answered. Pi Sang fell into unconsciousness at their doorstep.

Two days later, he had woken, his arm patched up and laying in a
hospital bed. It didn't take him long to figure out where he was, and what
he had to do.

From then, it was a day's ride on the train, and then another five
days following the trail between Xining and the area around Mount
Quanjing, where the Council was known to have their central meetings.

And so, there he stood, in the open-roofed auditorium. Kind of an
amphitheater of sorts, with countless stone seats all around him. He stood
in the center of the room, surrounded by no less than fifteen people.
Twelve of which were the people who made up the backbone of the council.
The other three were simply guards and those who presided over the
meetings.

"You speak truth, Pi Sang?" One of the council members asked.

Pi Sang nodded. "My word is my life."

He received a collective sigh from around the council. "If this is
true," another said. "That means they have at least three."

"Or more," another said.

Another collective silence.

"Pi Sang," the man at the zenith of the room spoke. "You may now
leave, thank you for surviving to tell us the story of this grave news."

Pi Sang nodded his head and bowed out of the room, making his way out.

A moment after he left, the Council continued to speak.

"The Tiger and Goat," One said. "That is two more than we have known
about."

"The others are still secure, however. They may not know of the
location of them."

"With the Shawl of the Goat, they are almost assured the locations of
the last six Idols."

"Then I see only one possible option," another said.

"And that is?"

"We must collect the final six before they have a chance... And we
must fight against them!"

"Impossible!" another exclaimed. "Pure heresy! Those in our bloodline
are forbidden to use any of the Idols! We would forfeit our honour AND our
souls by that action! By the Gods, we barely know where the other Idols
are!"

"We have no choice!"

"Actually, we do," one of the non-council said. "Those in our number,
those of our tribe are forbidden to use any of the idols."

"You tell us things we already know," another said. "Get to the
point."

"There may be one we can trust to watch over the one Idol we have in
our possession... and who we may trust to collect the final five."

"How may we trust anyone outside of our tribe, save the priests? And
even then, the priests were no match for the man wearing the Tiger's
Idol!"

"The person I speak of is cursed by Jusenkyo," he continued. "By the
Nyannichuan."

There was a collective silence around the council.

The one who spoke lowered his hood and looked upon the council. "He
may be trusted," the man said. "And he is stronger than any single idol by
itself, that much has been proven by his overtaking of the One with the
Monkey Idol."

"Still, they have SIX Idols, Prince Herb," another Councilman spoke.
"Surely he is not that strong!"

Herb smirked at the councilman. "Indeed he may be. He defeated me not
long ago, and soon after saved my life. That should speak on his
trustworthiness, and to further announce his strength... He was also able
to best the Phoenix-God."

Chatter took place all over the room almost instantly. Cries of
disbelief and heresy, cries of rebuttal against Prince Herb's statement,
and general cries against the very fact that one who is half-female could
protect anything!

But then... the Dragon Idol could give him an ideal start. A very
ideal start. But no, it would have been tricky. The Dragon Idol was a
Negative force. Meant for the female of the species, he would have to be
female. If the ones who have been stealing the Idols knew the secret of
Jusenkyo, then they knew the man's weakness.

Still...

"Enough!" the man at the zenith cried. "This man, who is he?"

Herb closed his eyes. "Ranma Saotome of Japan."

The man nodded. "Then this is what shall be done. We shall send the
Dragon Idol to this Ranma Saotome, only when we can be assured of his
ability to protect the Idol shall we bestow upon him the task of searching
for the other Idols."

"How shall we test him?"

The man looked at Herb. "You shall watch him."

****

"So what the heck is it?" Ranma asked, picking the small plaster idol
out of the box. Small foam peanuts littered the floor all around. "And if
it's so important, why did they send it through general post?"

"Don't be foolish, boy. Obviously to cease suspicions!" Genma said,
scolding his son. "Well, what's the deal, Tendo?"

"It says here," Soun began, holding the small paper in front of him.
"To whom it may concern-- it has recently come to our attention that
within your household reside several martial artists of exceptional
caliber. We thusly request your assistance in a problem that has been
plaguing our sect for quite some time."

"Sect? This is from some cult?" Ranma scoffed.

Unfettered, Soun continued. "The Dragon Idol, although it looks
relatively new, has been in existence for well over two thousand years.
It, and the eleven others of its kind have been protected by our kind for
nearly half that time. It has come to our attention that another of its
kind was recently found in your possession, given to you as a gift by the
priests of Monkey Mountain."

"Hey, wasn't that where we got the battle suit?" Ranma asked, wincing
in memory of the... thing that Akane had been so attached to.

Soun nodded. "Indeed," he said, continuing. "Over the past year, six
of the twelve total pieces have been stolen by a person or persons
unknown. The only description we have is a man, possibly American
military, or ex-military, wearing the Idol of the Tiger."

"Tiger?... Wait, so they want us to protect this thing from this
military guy?"

"We beg of you, please watch over the idol as if your life depends
upon it, as it more than likely does. And whatever you do, be careful in
the handling of it. It has a mind of its own."

"If it's anything like Akane's battle suit, then are we sure we even
want it here?" Ranma asked.

Genma whapped his son across the back of his said. "Of course, boy!
It's the sacred duty of any martial artist to protect those who need it,
trouble or not!"

"Oh, sure," Ranma shot back. "That's why you gave the Battle Suit away
to the secondhand shop?"

Soun read to the bottom of the page and sighed. "It's not even
signed."

Ranma turned the idol over in his hands and examined it closely.

The idol itself looked like no more than painted pottery. A swirling
oriental dragon sitting upon a cloud. In fact, it looked more second rate
than ancient. Ranma turned it over in his hands, to look at the bottom. It
wasn't flat, as he expected, but rather had two feet protruding out from
the bottom, and a third protrusion, the cloud, to rest upon.

All in all, it looked second rate, but there was something more
unusual about it than that... and Ranma just couldn't place his finger on
it.

"I say we leave it in the Dojo for now," Genma said. "On the shrine,
perhaps."

"Why not just lay a sign out front saying, 'Free Magic Idol!'?" Ranma
quipped. "It'd be like laying out the red carpet for whoever wants this
thing."

"It's not confirmed yet that the people who are after it even KNOW of
it's location, boy!" Genma shot back. "Chances are they don't, and may
never know."

"You just want it in an easy to reach location so you can sell it
whenever you get the chance, Pop!"

"Ranma! Don't you speak to your Father in such a negligent tone!"
Genma shouted.

"And what, may I ask, is the problem *now*?" A fourth, distinctly
female voice asked from the doorway.

Nabiki removed her shoes and walked into the room, dropping her
schoolbag beside the door.

"Hi Nabiki," Ranma said, eyeing his father warily. "Nothing important,
just some idol we're supposed to protect."

Nabiki's eyebrow rose appraisingly at the mention of the word 'idol'.
Idols usually meant fame, which meant cash, which meant Nabiki was happy.
"Oh?" she feigned disinterest. "What kind of idol?"

"It comes from a sect in China," Soun said, breaking in to the
conversation. "Apparently there are eleven other pieces to complete the
whole, although not much more information was given. It's of relation to
the suit we got from Monkey Mountain."

Nabiki's eyebrow raised even further. She knew all too well of the
fiasco with the Battle Suit. In fact, she had found the whole situation a
generous distraction from her day-to-day life. Although her life was
exciting to a point, Ranma's presence gave it that... spontaneity she so
longed for.

Of course, she didn't love him. As far as Nabiki understood, she was
incapable of romantic love. The only love she was able to feel, or let
herself feel was familial in nature. That's the only level she could let
it go to... And Ranma himself lay within that area.

"And the argument?" Nabiki asked.

Ranma sighed. "Pop here wants to leave the idol out for the world to
see--"

"I merely mentioned that to place it upon the shrine in the Dojo--"

"Shove it, old man!" Ranma said. "If there are people after this,
then--"

Nabiki didn't hear the rest. People were after the idol, then? How
interesting... That could only mean one thing... it was valuable. If
people were after it, then that meant it was VERY valuable.

"I agree fully with Ranma," Nabiki said, stabbing her finger into the
air for effect. "The shrine is not a wise place to keep it! In fact, I
don't think it should be kept in any place easily accessible, or likely,
either!"

Soun blinked. "Nabiki...?" he began.

"Therefore, being a daughter of the Tendo School of Anything-Goes
Martial Arts, I shall do the duty that has been required of me and...
assist in the stealth mission for the idol!"

Ranma's eyes crossed almost immediately. Was Nabiki serious? She
couldn't...

Genma just stared at Nabiki, his facial expression a mixture of shock
and confusion.

Soun, however... bought it hook, line and sinker. "Oh, Nabiki! I'm so
proud of you, daughter! Finally taking to your roots within the Dojo."

Needless to say, Nabiki got to keep the idol with her.

****

"Let's see now," Nabiki said, talking to herself. "Paint job is good
quality... no colouring outside the lines on this one."

She kept a monocle around for just such an occasion, which were
admittedly not that often... For the occasion that she'd have to appraise
jewelry, or pottery.

In this case, it was the latter.

She had brought the idol up to her room for further study, but after
her original appraisal, had figured it wouldn't be worth much,
therefore... there had to be a hidden worth buried within it.

Besides the fact that it looked like a bad knock-off of a toy dragon,
there had been nothing else wrong with it. The paint job was perfect, in
fact... you almost could swear the dragon itself was real, and that it was
merely frozen in place on a white rock that just happened to be shaped as
a cloud.

But it had been simple to determine that the dragon itself was made of
ceramic. The sound of it hitting the floor was enough to prove that.
Strangely enough, however, it hadn't broken.

But still... Even as Nabiki examined the thing closely with her
monocle, she could swear there was something funny about the idol, even
though her examinations hadn't shown anything out of the ordinary.

Nabiki yawned and looked out the window. The thing couldn't be worth
anything, she thought as she stared out into the night, and it was already
getting late. She got up and flipped the lights in her room off and lay
down in her bed.

It wasn't until then that she realized what was so funny about the
Idol.

The eyes... glowed.

No, they didn't move, or show any forms of life whatsoever, but the
moment she noticed the eyes glowed, she flicked her light switch back on.
She took a close look at the idol, paying close attention to the eyes.
They glowed in the dark, and to an extent... glowed in the light. It just
wasn't as noticeable.

She reached out to touch the dragon's eyes with her finger, half
expecting to feel some form of heat. After all, light did shed heat, no
matter what the source. It seemed conceivable that this... idol, did--

She paused in shock as her finger grew closer to the eye. It glowed
deep red when she was nearly touching it. She withdrew her hand and
watched the eyeball intently. It lightened its shade back to a dull
yellow.

Experimentally, she reached for the other eyeball with her other hand,
expecting something similar to happen.

And something did. It began to glow a dark blue, in opposite contrast
to the deep red of the other eye.

Nabiki leaned back for a moment, staring at the idol. If one eye
glowed blue, and the other red... then what would happen if she approached
both at the same time?

Nabiki raised both of her hands to either side of the idol, reaching
closer and closer to the beady eyes of the dragon. Soon, each eye began
glowing deep red and blue, the colour strengthening as she drew nearer.

Finally, she cupped the idol with her hands, and pressed her thumbs
onto the eyes. She expected nothing to happen.

But she hadn't expected the unexpected.

Nabiki gave a loud shriek as all hell broke loose around her.

****