AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been too wrapped up with classwork and other writing projects to even touch this, recently, but I figure I owe you guys at least this half-chapter I've got so far… whenever I can, I'll replace it with a full one, and hopefully finish up the story. Sorry about the sluggishness!

Taiketsu Muyou

(No Need for Confrontation)

"He needed to make deals . . . . a deal meant an opponent, an opponent
meant confrontation and confrontation was the source of his strength."
-- Peter Evans, on Aristotle Onassis

Mimasaka hung placidly in the speckled black hard vacuum of interstellar space where a small fleet of Galaxy Police craft, powerful and sleek monuments to millennia of engineering advances, encircled it at a respectful distance.

Inside that masterfully crafted Ryuten ship, Asahi's head was swimming out of delirium.

"Ah- wha-"

"Shh," hushed a half-discerned mop of red, wavering gradually into focus as the girl regained consciousness. "It's all right, Lady Asahi. You're safe aboard your ship. We're friends of Lady Aeka and Lady Sasami, and they're here, too."

On more conscious inspection, the red-haired woman (she had spoken, at least, with the self-possession of an adult) leaning over Asahi had the face and even stature of a child—more so than Asahi, or even her old friend Sasami.

"They... they're here...? But-" Asahi murmured, starting to sit up with the redhead's aid, "but that man..."

"That ruffian is gone now, thank goodness!" piped a familiar voice, concerned and tender despite an inclination to indignity at the moment. "The scoundrel did nothing to mistreat you, did he?"

Asahi smiled, seeming to regain some composure upon recognizing her childhood friend Aeka, and shook her head. "Aeka! I... no... he was quite kind, in fact..."

She paused suddenly, feeling under the obscurement of her kimono sleeve the handkerchief unconsciously clutched in her hand, and she flushed faintly.

"No, he was very kind," she repeated, shaking her head. Glancing around the room, she smiled at the sight of Aeka and Sasami sitting dotingly at her bedside, and the gentle-looking (if ever so vaguely familiar) young man with them—until she spotted the last girl, with a red-stained mop of spiky hair.

"I-i-is that-!" she stammered, eyes wide.

Aeka sighed, eyes closed as though numbing herself to an uncomfortable truth. "Yes, that is indeed the one-time pirate Ryoko."

"Hey, whatta mean one-time?" Ryoko growled from the back.

"O-oh..." Asahi paused. She hesitated. "But why is her hair red?"

"Shuttup!" Ryoko snarled, on her feet immediately, with Tenchi struggling to quiet her down as Asahi scurried back against the headboard of her bed.

"It's paint," Washuu sighed. "She tried to fight this Captain Kobayashi, and got reckless. She's lucky to still have a head, never mind a new hair color."

Ryoko fumed and sulked furiously.

"I see..." Asahi answered reluctantly, still somewhat taken aback.

Then, without warning, she sat upright so quickly Washuu fell over backward. "Wait!" she cried frantically. "Is Mimasaka all right!"

"Quite all right, Lady Asahi!" twittered the interface module as it whisked in through the door of the room, shying clear of Ryoko and the cabbit perched on her shoulder. "I am glad that barbarian did not harm you. But- but I must tell you—"

Asahi, clutching the hovering crystal and instantly relieved, blinked at the ship's hesitation.

"What is it, Mimasaka?"

"Firstly, before I was forced into diagnostic stasis, the brute requested... ah... that I transmit to you an apology."

"A- an apology?" the girl echoed, bewildered.

The others glanced between themselves at that; Washuu tapped her chin thoughtfully.

Mimasaka hesitated. "And also, I must inform you that there is a call from your father. Surely, he is very worried."

"Oh!" Asahi quickly dabbed at her cheeks with the handkerchief to be sure she was presentable, and then tucked it away again with the singular speed of the self-conscious. "Yes, please give us a screen, then, Mimasaka."

A holographic display formed, dominated by the face of Nomori Takebe, half-obscured by his hair, as per usual.

"Asahi! Is everything all right!" he gushed with almost overwhelming emotion. "I was only told of your release a moment ago!"

"Oh, father!" She smiled soothingly. "Yes, I am safe and all right, father... he did not harm me, and he was very kind. But... I do wonder..."

There was a silence as Asahi paused.

"He asked that Mimasaka apologize to me, on his behalf, and I do not understand why..."

"If I may interrupt," Aeka answered the half-question with only the slightest222 effort to subdue her indignation-by-proxy, "the ruffian did kidnap you and steal your ship, after all."

"Yes, I suppose... but why would he not say it sooner, then? He did not seem the kind who hesitates..."

There was another brief silence, through which Nomori gave the impression of scowling, although the wood-sculptor's hair quite effectively masked his eyes.

"Mimasaka," he said, with a seriousness all the more impressive by comparison to his almost overemotional greeting. "What of the statues?"

"The statues?" echoed Asahi, wonderingly.

"Ah," Mimasaka answered, stalling. "Ah, yes, the statues."

Asahi glanced quietly from the image of her father's grim expression to the reluctant interface unit.

"They were... ah... all four were destroyed."

Asahi's eyes instantly widened, filling quickly like a valley below a straining dam, and she clapped her hands over her mouth as it fell open with a gasp. "N-no!"

"I see," Nomori said at length. "This is serious, then."

Washuu glanced, arms crossed, to the display. "What's all this about statues, Lord Takebe? We're a little bit out of the loop."

Nomori seemed to steel himself before continuing.

"The four holy beasts, wood sculptures, were the gift I gave to my dear wife—Asahi's mother—and our last remembrance of her."

He paused, as the girl struggled to control herself.

"I'm sorry— but please, go on," Washuu prompted, well aware of the incompleteness of his answer.

"Yes," the master sculptor added at length, gritting his teeth and audibly choking on his own emotion. "Since it must surely have been revealed by now, I may as well tell you what Asahi did not know: that the statues were also the final lock guarding the Hou family's secret files. How this outlaw knew all of this..."

Washuu glanced to the side, partly to avoid watching Nomori's almost comically dramatic display, and partly to clear her head for more constructive thought.

We've been getting played, she thought. We've been getting played from the beginning. At any step along the way, he could have easily avoided running into us and gotten what he'd come for, but he wanted us here. But what does he want us for now? Even though he must know we can't let him run off and do as he pleases with those files, I still need answers, damn it. But if he wants us to keep following him, there must be a clue...

Still halfway embedded in her thoughts, Washuu's eyes followed a flash of white to rest on Asahi once more; or rather, the handkerchief in her hand. The scientist paused only briefly as possibilities clicked together in a whir—just long enough to form a satisfied smirk.

"Where did you get that handkerchief, Lady Asahi?"

Asahi froze up, eyes gone wide with the rush of embarrassment ambushing and overrunning her grief. That reaction answered Washuu's question better than words.

"I had a feeling. Could I see it for a moment? Here, come and get a good whiff of this, Ryo-Ouki. We've got a pirate to track down."

"So this is the place, huh? Snazzy. Well, in a 'wow, that sure is a big tree' kind of way."

Mushima regarded the feathered hat and the head upon which it rested, silently wishing for the opportunity to mount both on a wall, but he knew his brother Hishima's will, and so restrained himself. Slung haphazardly over the pirate's shoulder like a sack of potatoes was an octagonal box larger than a man's torso, clutched by a set of heavy cables which protruded from one end.

"It's a little morbid, though," Takeo continued, gesturing demonstratively to the ancient tree entwined in machinery and tubes which climbed it like massive synthetic vines. "You might try stringing up Christmas lights, maybe a bit of tinsel. Liven the place up a bit."

Hishima ignored their eccentric guest's inanities as he led them. Fanning out from the tree's base was a platform housing sophisticated apparatus greatly surpassing even Galaxy Police technology.

"Here," Hishima said, stopping within a few meters of the trunk, where a chamber opened at their feet. "Place the Book of Secrets in here, and you will meet our master."

Takeo glanced sidelong at Hishima, a serious expression passing over his face for the first time since the three brothers had met him; but it was gone just as quickly, and he smirked lazily.

"That's the trouble with galactic society, these days. There's no trust among honest criminals. But sure, I guess I can be the one to make a gesture of good will."

Shaking his head, he shrugged the massive box off his shoulder and set it down into the compartment. Instantly, the compartment grew cables which grafted to the severed lengths dangling out of the box, and electricity arced briefly across connections knitting together like regenerating tissue. After the briefest pause, the box was drawn down into its intended recess, and a panel snapped over it with a harsh metallic KANG.

"I hope I won't be kept waiting," Takeo commented idly as he glanced about at the technology-embraced tree, and drew a bottle of rum from under his coat, waving it about in front of Mushima's masked face. "I only brought the one bottle for a deal-closing celebration."

"Rgh..." Mushima commented, twitching.

"No," Hishima replied, "not long."

Even as he spoke, gossamer strings of coruscating light shone from the tree, impinging on the walls of the chamber and rebounding. Within a matter of seconds, the tree split open at the base, gushing fluid from an internal compartment.

That's interesting, Takeo thought as he watched somberly. That's very interesting.

The three brothers—Takashima, Hishima and Mushima—all knelt in one motion, leaving Takeo to clutch his rum.

"At last," said Hishima, cowl-shrouded eyes downturned as a very slight feminine form pulled itself from the newly opened cavity, covered only with electrodes and compact vital signs support equipment. All of it together scarcely constituted a decent bathing suit.

"Well," Takeo commented. "Professor Lolita, I presume?"

The girl stopped suddenly and glared with feral eyes, giving her hair a quick shake to uncover large, beastlike ears.

"What- who the hell is this joker!" she snarled in a tone of fury and self-possession belying her appearance.

"He is-" Mushima began—and then in a blur, snatched the brim of Takeo's hat and tugged it down over his eyes. "Insolent! How dare you look upon Master Yume!"

"Gah! Cut that out!" Takeo growled, shoving at Mushima's mask. "It's not like there's anything there to see, anyway!"

Yume stood, dripping and twitching.

Ignoring the wrestling match behind him, Hishimi knelt and offered a towel, his concealed eyes averted. "You'll catch cold, Master—"

Yume snatched the towel in one hand, whisking it around herself; in the same motion, her other hand struck Hishima squarely on the side of the mask which protruded from his hood. The ongoing struggle in the background stopped abruptly as Hishima was sent skidding across the floor.

"Idiot!" she spat fiercely. "What were you thinking, changing the plans and bringing in outsiders? Mushima, Takashima, destroy him!"

Takeo chuckled at the command, despite its casually disdainful tone, and shook his head absently as the two cloaked figured advanced on him from behind.

"You really don't want to do that."

It was precisely the indifference of his response that gave the shrouded brothers pause.

Yume almost snarled at the contravention. She paid no heed as Hishima stood once again at her back, loyal as ever despite the large, jagged, shadowed gap at the side of his mask.

"No, I think they really do."

Takeo shrugged dispassionately in response.

"Your loss."

Mushima growled, but held in place, looking to Yume for orders.

Her feral eyes twitched in frustration.

"Spit it out. Who the hell are you, and why should I let you live?"

"Captain Takeo Kobayashi, number one most wanted pirate in the galaxy," he answered, flashing a fanged grin and sweeping his coat back with a flourish. "And you should let me live for two reasons. First, because I'm here to offer my services; and second, because the moment your cyberninjas there attack, the electromagnetic grenade I placed inside the Hou Book of Secrets will discharge. Same if your systems try to disassemble or infiltrate it."

Yume gazed fiercely at him, as though on the verge of strangling him with her towel.

"Heh," she replied, instead, smirking. "And you're the one who delivered the Book to my servants, eh? Well, I suppose you might be worth the trouble of changing my plans. Maybe. What is it you're hoping to get out of it?"

Takeo glanced at Mushima and flashed an 'I told you so' grin, then faced Yume and bowed flamboyantly. "I guess I can't claim to be a simple man with simple needs, at this point, Professor Yume. So here's what I want. It's your plan to take over the second-generation tree Bizen, here, right? We both know that between this tree and the Hou Book of Secrets, the whole Juraian fleet will fall under your control. As for myself, all I ask is to select whichever Holy Tree I want, and keep it. That's a fair enough price, don't you think?"

"Hmnh. Bartering in Holy Trees?" Yume gazed at Takeo studiously in brief silence—and then laughed.

"Hahahahah! Now that's what I call irreverence! All right, fine. You can have a Royal Tree as payment; and you can make sure my servants keep things going according to schedule."

"But Master—" Mushima began, but silenced himself immediately as Yume continued.

"—since they don't seem so great at following orders, lately," she added, shooting a scornful glare at the cloaked figures who stood by quietly, torn between penitence and outrage.

"Excellent," Takeo answered, drawing the bottle of rum from his coat once again and thumbing toward Mushima. "Then we'll celebrate while he goes and takes care of the ship that's probably on an approach vector about now. You can do that, right Mu-shi?"

Mushima fumed, one wickedly taloned hand twitching with the half-suppressed impulse to rip the pirate open.

"I don't take orders from lying—" he began, but cut himself off immediately as his brother suddenly lifted his head.

"He's telling the truth," Hishima stated in his usual calm. "There is indeed a ship approaching the system."

"Damnit," Yume growled. "I know exactly who's coming, then—and we need more time to launch Bizen. Mushima! Destroy them or delay them at any cost. You other three, prep to launch. We need to be off the ground before Washuu gets here."

Stars swung past Ryo-Ouki, belying the ship's impossible speed as she followed the course which she had discerned by methods so scientifically dubious that even Washuu refused to expound on them.

Ryoko stood watching the pinpoints of light drift by around them.

"Well," commented Washuu from beside her daughter, "you sure managed to get yourself in a mess today, didn't you."

"Oh, shut up!" growled the veteran pirate, glaring with embarassment. "I almost had him!"

Washuu rubbed at her forehead impatiently.

"What you almost had is your thick head blown off."

Ryoko growled and glared.

"And you scared the hell out of Tenchi, too," the scientist added, shaking her head, and continued when Ryoko softened—just as anticipated.

"That was just too stupidly reckless; you could have been killed. If he didn't have a sense of humor and a gun loaded with paint, you would have been killed."

"I got by just fine for the last few thousand years without your advice, so I'd say I can make it at least a few more."

"Tut tut," Washuu scolded with a hand dramatically poised at the side of her head, eyes closed, in the scientifically ascertained stance perfect for exhibiting maternal dismay. "You really don't understand the motivations of a mother, do you?"

"Maybe that's because I never had one," Ryoko shot back.

"Is that so?" Washuu glanced up at her infamous daughter with just one eye opened so as to minimize the disruption of her pose. "Perhaps it's time I bring out the baby pictures, if that's how you're going to be about it."

Ryoko recoiled in horror. "W- what! You're lying!"

"Am I?" Washuu replied, that one eye daring the pirate to risk it.

"My, my," interrupted Aeka's voice in an imploring tone. "Could we see these pictures, Washuu? I'm sure they're absolutely darling."

Ryoko spun to unleash rage on the princess, but stalled with embarassment on realizing Tenchi was there, as well. "Eeh- when did you get here!"

"They followed me up here, actually," Washuu answered calmly, undistracted when Ryoko collapsed with exasperation. "And perhaps later, Lady Aeka, but we have more pressing concerns at the moment."

"Oh? But Miss Washuu-" Tenchi started.

"I said before", the scientist interrupted, "it's just 'Washuu.'"

"—err. Right, sorry, Washuu," he continued. "But I thought we were tracking Takeo successfully."

"We are. But I'm worried we're running into a sticky situation, if he's doing something with the secret files."

"What ever do you mean?" Aeka inquired. "I know that they contain a great deal of valuable information regarding the Holy Trees, but surely the villain could not sell them and escape so quickly."

"Valuable information?" Washuu echoed as an overstuffed wicker basket seat rose from nowhere and tilted back to let her recline, arms folded behind her head. "Well, that's an understatement."

"Eeh?" Aeka murmured in confusion.

"Sure, those files contain all kinds of information on the Holy Trees. But keep in mind, the Holy Trees are the lynchpin of the Jurai Empire's power; and the files are also rumored to hold a lot of data from which one could extrapolate a means of subverting the spirit of a Holy Tree."

"But- that means-" Aeka stammered, eyes widening.

"Exactly," Washuu continued. "It means those files have the potential to upset the balance of power throughout this galaxy—even the entire allied universe. And the pursuit course we're on is taking us in the direction of the planet Jurai."

"You mean he's planning to steal a Tree from Jurai itself!" Tenchi exclaimed in disbelief.

Ryoko growled, clenching a fist.

"That— that copycat! That's what I wanted to do!"

"He did say he's a Daetirian."

"Huh?" Tenchi blinked bewilderedly at Washuu's comment. "Wait, how did you know he said that? And what is a... what... you said?"

Washuu tapped at the side of her head. "Constant connection to Ryoko. I've seen and heard both of her run-ins with him. And to answer your other question, here."

Washuu held a book embossed "Encyclopedia of Rare and Unusual Aliens" out toward the three of them.

"I've been doing a little reading up," she explained, opening the book to the Ds and presenting it. "Here's the Daetirian entry. Originating in a neighboring galaxy, Daetirians have a natural ability of mimicry, including physical appearance and unique powers, although they need at least several hours to assimilate the things they 'learn.' They're exceptionally rare, but very long-lived. It certainly explains a lot, doesn't it?"

Tenchi contemplated the encyclopedia entry. "So... that sword of his was copied from Ryoko?"

"Damnit!" Ryoko growled, twitching with frustration and rage. "And my teleportation and everything else, too!"

"It looks that way," Washuu answered as she put the book away once again, and looked out the window.

But still, I've got to wonder—

Washuu blinked at a white spot which appeared—at least, to her eyes, made impossibly acute through millennia of focusing all her massive cognitive potential on the sciences—to be drifting out of synch with with stars around it and visibly blue-shifted.

Strange. Objects in normal space shouldn't be blue-shifted; but something moving at relativistic speeds toward us within altered space—

The spot of light began to shed its blue-shift and expand quickly.

"Damn!" Washuu cursed, and braced herself.

Aeka blinked in surprise at the exclamation. "Washuu? What seems—"

The princess was interrupted and knocked clean off her feet as Ryo-Ouki shook with a massive impact, letting out a plaintive myaaaa and flashing red alert lights in the cabin.

"What!" Ryoko growled in reply. "An unknown ship!"

Washuu scowled, but calmly hopped down from her cushion and started walking.

"Uh-" Tenchi stammered, in the midst of helping Aeka to her feet. "Where are you going, Miss Washuu?"

"I told you— nevermind. 2,735 to 2 against, the intruder will be trying to board Ryo-Ouki from the starboard of the observation dome. We ought to be there to greet whoever or whatever it is."

To Be Continued…