Kishi: Peace is a fine thing, marred only by one fact: it doesn't last.
***
Kaibyaku Muyo!
Chapter 2
***
The day was shaping up to be a good one. The sun shone in the mid-morning sky, lending the sky its bright blue, dwelling place of the clouds. Tenchi was always taken a bit aback by how similar the skies of Earth and Jurai were. He would find himself gazing up, then look back to the ground expecting the hills of Okayama.
But very soon, they would be those familiar hills.
As he walked through the docks with his bag over his shoulder, a sense of relief came over him. Soon, very soon, he'd be where he belonged. No more servants, no more awed whispers, no more cowed glances. It'd be lecherous classmates, derisive glares and shouts of challenge. Home, sweet home, he mused to himself.
He finally arrived at dock 19, with royal transport waiting. The ship, a relatively small tear-shaped living unit surrounded by tri-foil engines, floated above the ground, stairs leading up to it.
It appeared that he'd arrived just in time to say good-bye. There were Mom and Dad, Dad straining beneath a pile of their collective luggage and Mom with a telltale expression suggesting that she wasn't sure whether she should be flattered or worried over Dad's back.
There were Sasami and Aeka hugging their mothers and father good-bye. Aeka, he noticed, seemed somehow eager to be anywhere but in the bear-hug grip of Misaki. As she finally pulled away and made one last bow, Tenchi stepped forward to say his good-byes.
First, Funaho wrapped her arms around him. He did the same as she said in his ear, "Be strong. Be brave. They need you to be."
"I will," he replied as he stood back.
Then came Azusa, who clapped his right shoulder. As Tenchi awkwardly responded in kind, Azusa said, "You're on your honor to guard two of my most precious treasures. Lose them, and I will suggest you jump off a cliff, for your fate that way will be easier to bear than what I would treat you to."
"Yes, milord," said Tenchi. As he moved on, he couldn't help but notice the slightest glint of Azusa's eyes.
Suddenly, though, as he felt the breath crushed from his lungs, any sort of significance in the Emperor's eyes escaped him. "Come back soon!" exclaimed Misaki as she gripped him with all her might.
"Ha… ha… hai," he managed to gasp out before being set down on the ground. As he remembered how to work his lungs he stumbled back a step and picked up the pack that had fallen to the ground.
"Honestly," muttered his mother, dressed in a simple white dress with red straight-line patterns along the bottom edge. "Both my men are desperate to get hurt. I don't get it at all."
"Really, dear," said Nobuyuki, his jacket and pants hanging off his recently leaned frame, "all we're trying to do is impress you. It's your fault, you know."
"Pshaw!" she said. Tenchi missed her continuation as they stepped into the ship. He turned around and gave the rulers of Jurai one last wave before stepping aboard.
Within minutes, the ship had cleared the atmosphere. As he wandered the corridors of the ship, Tenchi came upon a viewing deck. Sasami sat in a seat, staring at the sphere of her planet. She sighed wistfully, unaware of his presence.
"Sasami?"
She turned to look at him, and her expression immediately changed to a smile. "Oh, hi, Tenchi!"
"Are you ok?"
"Well, yeah, I'm just…." She saw the concern in his eyes and sighed. "I can't believe it," she said. "I haven't been gone but a few minutes and I already miss them."
"There's nothing wrong with that," he said. "But you're gonna see them again. Really. I mean, they're gonna come back on their own eventually."
"Yeah, I know," she said, smiling genuinely.
*
On Jurai, the royal family that remained stared after the shrinking speck of ship that disappeared into the blue.
Misaki sighed. "Well, I guess that's that," she said. "Now to go back and rule the empire."
"Indeed," nodded Azusa thoughtfully as he and the others turned to walk away. As the dockworkers moved into the area, one of them passed suspiciously close to Funaho. He dropped something into Funaho's hand, whereupon she swiftly drew it into the folds of her robes. They continued walking in their respective directions, neither acknowledging each other.
***
The Galaxy Police Headquarters was incredibly self-sufficient. Built to stand wartime assaults and hold the largest force of Galaxy Police anywhere, it was a suitably large structure, seemingly built of silver crescents that had collided and deemed it fit to stay together. This station was a city in space, creating its own oxygen, reproducing its own food supply, and catering to the needs of up to 10,000 individuals at a time.
In the headquarters there existed an arboretum, filled with samples of trees and plants from every world inside of 500 light years. Passing through was a man dressed in the robes of his office, his blonde loosely tailed hair falling down just past his shoulder. His sky blue eyes wandered over the greenery, passing them to the large window that offered a view of the darkness. His lips twitched in a grimace, for he saw with the darkness his own reflection.
He couldn't help his dark mood, though. Thoughts of war always made him that way.
I, he declared to anyone who could hear thoughts, am the biggest hypocrite. Here I am, wishing for peace, and I sit and stare every day at the stars, waiting for peace to undo itself.
The problem with peace, he'd decided, was that it was a contradiction. Peace was brought into being by conflict, and peace always led back to conflict. Unfortunately, anyone who read the news could see that conflict was returning again, and once again, someone would have to use force to create peace.
He absolutely loathed that it had to be him. He could and did sympathize with the Jurai Emperor. Having one's home planet invaded was always cause for paranoia like this, but the Emperor's moves were becoming too aggressive. All this arms building was excessive, and the projected totals according to GP analysts pointed to a significantly larger force. Unfortunately, with little in the way of opposing nations, such a force would be able to secure Jurai's ability to expand its borders and take more planets. Colonization of uninhabited planets would only be the beginning.
So of course, the Galaxy Police would have to be ready to counter his moves. He had already authorized the increased patrols on Juraian border areas, as well as placing saboteurs in the industrial organism of Jurai. Hopefully, if they made any aggressive moves, the patrols would check them and the saboteurs would cripple them to the point that they would halt. Then peace would come.
If that weren't enough, he still had one last trump to play.
Grand Marshal Kuramitsu sighed as he continued his walk. Oh, that these days should be mine, he thought to himself. A janitor swept in the background.
***
As the Yagami lazily propelled through space, Kiyone once again praised the higher powers for the invention of autopilot. She'd simply gone out to hold a conference with nature, and when she returned, lo, Mihoshi asleep at the wheel. Still, it wasn't as though she blamed Mihoshi. It had been a long time since they'd gotten any real sleep.
On the other hand, with Mihoshi spacing out periodically and with her thoughts acting so strangely, perhaps it was best that Kiyone left her alone.
Maybe Kamidake was part of the problem. Up until they'd left Jurai, she had become more and more needful of his attentions. Kamidake, for his part, hadn't exactly gone to pains to stop her. They hadn't done anything at all romantically, but Kiyone had the distinct feeling that'd have changed if they stayed.
Besides, she had her own problems to deal with – incarnate in the form of the Knight Azaka. When they had parted from each other, for some odd reason, he seemed somehow… reluctant, to let her go. Oh, he had restrained himself before he could say anything, but a strangely pained look had passed over his eyes when she finally said good-bye.
How could he have known that this momentary drop of the mask showed a reflection of how she felt? Hers was a loneliness that stretched back almost to the very beginning of her police career. Nobody had expected her to do quite so well in the academy, and her concentration on the task of passing had driven off all would-be suitors, driven off anyone who could fill the loneliness inside.
She had reached the conclusion, in those days, that it was obviously because she wasn't smart enough to be considered a worthy catch. She blew away the midterms, aced the finals, and had hoped that somehow, her efforts would attain the attentions – and, hopefully, the affections – of some tall, dark academy senior, with serious eyes and a knack for knowing just exactly what she was thinking.
She sat back in the chair and sighed. Had she ever been that naïve?
***
A major in Inter-Dimensional Physics was truly a prerequisite for this project, decided Senbo. Never mind Washyuu-sensei's eccentricities, this was hard enough.
The idea behind their latest plan was to run a series of 'suggestions' through the computer to work its machinations on subspace; by doing so, they were hoping they could trick subspace into performing by indirectly 'programming' their will into it. Unfortunately, the 'suggestions' required a lot of math, and although he had chosen it has his major, Senbo had a distinctive disdain for anything that bore even the slightest arithmetic symbol.
It was the sheer obstinacy of the math, he decided. This latest equation was requiring an odd trick to balance properly.
"Washyuu-chan, I think there's something wrong with the math here."
"Really? Let's have a look-see," she said, pulling up his mathematical formulae on her screen. She gave it a long hard stare and finally made a pronouncement.
"I don't see what the problem is."
Senbo wanted to try to sound credulous. "Don't see it? The equation doesn't balance properly!"
"Why not?"
"All these numbers," said Senbo, "represent a wide array of commands. The equation on one side represents the command in total, and the other side represents the result. In effect, one side represents the command, say, 'Let there be light,' and the other represents 'Light,' or the potential for 'Light' to exist. However, we need one last number to represent the catalyst that'll turn the potential energy into light and heat – 'Light.' However, to input the number on either side would cause an imbalance, causing the equation to break down. It can't be added to both sides because such is impossible, since the number would then represent an intrinsic force that connects both the command and the potential energy."
"In short," said Washyuu, "the number would signify a connection that, according to our understanding, can't exist."
"Exactly."
"But is it so impossible?"
"If that were so, it would mean that we are all connected, part of something bigger than ourselves."
"Well, let's think theoretically. Supposing that the universe was, in fact, created, and suppose that there was some sort of sentient reasoning force behind it. Is such a connection impossible then?"
Senbo thought about it for a moment. Thoughts of the megami theology raced around in his head, of the trinity of Love, Wisdom, and Hope. He thought of the wars that had been carried out in their names, and all the deeds both good and evil done in their names.
"Nature follows a very strict logic," he said, finally. "The very idea of the existence of such beings is possible, but their reputed interventions in the affairs of man are illogical, and they being part of nature cannot act illogically. Since there is no other evidence, they cannot be proven to be in existence, and that's good enough for me."
***
"I'd like to thank you again for taking me back home."
"It's nothing," said Ryoko with a grin. "I mean, it's what friends do, right?"
Kyrin nodded, his own slight upturn of the lips response enough.
Ryo-Oh-Ki meowed in affirmation. The skies were blue, the grass was a healthy green, and the clouds were moving along as they were supposed to be. Around them, the spaceport docks bustled with activity. Cargo modules of all sizes were constantly being run either towards a ship or towards a building, and while not hectic the air held a note of expected efficiency.
Ryoko sighed, dressed as usual in her blue-and-yellow striped robe. She had to admit that it would be interesting to go to Dareial, one of the few planets she hadn't seen, but she would've much preferred to go there under different circumstances.
She still remembered the conversation with Washyuu that had started her down this road.
*
"What's the deal, mom?" asked Ryoko.
Washyuu grinned. "I hear Kyrin's decided to go back home."
"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Wow. You really don't watch the news at all, do you?"
"Ever since the bounty on my head went away, I've never really had to."
"All right then. You remember that 'never-ending-civil-war-scenario-that-was-and-is-and-shall-be-until-the-end-of-time' thing that was going on there?"
"Yeah. How many thousands of years?"
"Almost since the beginning of their history, which stretches back considerably, almost the beginnings of space travel 30,000 years ago."
Ryoko gave a low whistle. "And I thought I held a grudge."
"Well, for no apparent reason at all, it's ended. The media has spent a lot of time paying praises to the powers of peace, but I don't buy it. Thirty millennia of aggression don't just disappear in thirty days."
"That's true. Do you think your Friend was involved?"
"I don't think so. He would've told me if He were." She grinned impishly. "That's one of the benefits of being an multidimensional being, you know."
"I guess. So, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to ascertain the truth. I want to hear what the media isn't telling us."
"OK, then. I guess I'm on it." She heard a strange noise and turned to see Senbo rocking back and forth in front of his screen muttering to himself. "Um… shouldn't we be a little worried about him?"
"Don't worry, Ryoko-chan. He's very good at what he does."
*
"So why exactly is it that you're planning on going back to your home planet?" asked Ryoko, drawn out of her reverie.
"Well, it'd be nice to go back home, now that we know I'm not quite so crazy anymore," said Kyrin. "Also, I… well…."
"Go on."
"It's just…" he sighed. "It's just that… well, now that the war's over, I really have no earthly idea what I'm supposed to do. I want to go back and see my folks again."
"I see. Well, no problems with that. Let's go ahead and get going already!"
***
The Grand Marshal gazed out over the balcony view of the headquarters' interior. Like the interior of a geode, a thousand little lights shone out of the darkness that came with the general shutdown of the base.
He sighed as he turned and walked back into his modest bedchamber. The balcony view had been the only opulence he'd allowed himself, but he had to admit it was a fine view.
As he lowered himself to bed, he felt his bones creaking. A part of his mind began wondering if he should retire soon.
As he stared up into the blackness of the ceiling, his attention was suddenly caught by the red dot on the wall that was moving toward him with terrible purpose.
***
For the third time that night, Funaho replayed the data disk that had been handed to her by the agent that day. She'd had to hand it to him – very well done with the delivery.
"This is addressed to my superior," said Genjo. A clever line, since that would mean that at least she could maintain some veil of anonymity.
"I have successfully inserted myself into the GP Headquarters. As per instructions, I have taken a low-profile job and have successfully integrated into the workings of the GP. More data will be forthcoming as time allows. Out."
Funaho sighed in relief. She had a feeling that the Grand Marshal would be placing insurgents of their own inside Jurai borders, but maybe a little benign intelligence gathering would root them out. Afterwards, they could talk and maybe release some of the tension that had been building.
Suddenly, a purposefully nondescript agent ran in. "Dude!" he screeched. "Like, get the news goin' or somethin'! There's been, like, an assassination attempt or somethin', man!"
Frowning, Funaho tapped a few buttons and a screen popped into existence in front of her. The Galactic News Network logo flashed across the screen, followed by some fairly attractive female news anchor.
"Thank you for tuning in to GNN," said the anchor. "For those of you just tuning in, we have been covering the assassination attempt on Galaxy Police Grand Marshal Kuramitsu. The attempt came at approximately 21:19, Jurai Standard Time. According to our latest reports, the assassin made the attempt just as the Grand Marshal was turning in for the night. We take you now to the press conference."
Funaho watched as the scene shifted to a stateroom of some kind. The GP rep was already talking. "… And as we stated earlier, all evidence points to a Juraian plot of some kind. As you have seen on the footage, the assassin is wearing a janitorial uniform and is using a modified Juraian beam staff. Juraian spies are notorious for infiltrating the lowest areas, at least organizationally, and sneaking past defenses to attain information, or whatever suits them."
"Yeah, great, just blow our methods," snarled an operative, who was shushed by another.
Funaho looked very carefully at the footage. The assassin did look familiar… but no. Genjo wouldn't have taken such drastic steps unless ordered to, and this hadn't been part of the plan.
"All right," said Funaho. "In the next few hours we are going to be asked for a statement. I'll go to work on that. In the meantime, I want the Jurai spy network to begin ascertaining the current deployments of every fleet the GP has. I want location, composition, position relative to Jurai holdings, and possible deployment scenarios."
As the spies scurried about their work, Funaho tapped another button on the arm of her control chair and a screen popped up in front of her. "Yes, milady?" asked the officer.
"I need somebody down there to get a hold of Genjo and find out just what in the name of Tsunami is going on here."
"Yes, milady," intoned the officer, and the screen disappeared.
Funaho, leaning back in the chair, steepled her fingers thoughtfully. What did this new development entail, she wondered.
***
Tenchi stretched out his arms. The sun was setting on the hills of Okayama. There was almost no breeze, and the pink liberally applied against the oncoming purple backdrop created a stunning effect.
He sighed contentedly. "Everything's so peaceful," he said.
***
Kishi: Or is it?
::turns around to leave in a dramatic fashion, but overdoes it and spins too quickly, so that he sits down in the grip of a dizzy spell::
Tenchi Muyo and all related paraphernalia are copyrighted to Masaki Kojishima, and distributed by AIC and Pioneer.
The only things that are mine are those things that I perceive as original, and thusly are mine. If you recognize an idea that you came up with first, all credit goes to you.
You can contact me at: kurisutokishi@aol.com.