..............
Her feet barely made a whisper
as she launched herself toward
the target.
She swung in a single motion that
carried her straight past without
even disturbing the sleeves of her
kimono.
A single brief flash of light
was all that marked its passage.
So quick was the strike that her
blade seemed to never leave the
sheath. The "clink" as the hilt
slid back down was the only thing
that dispelled this illusion.
And then it was over.
The entire attack routine
had taken barely four seconds.
Nodoka didn't need to look back at the
practice dummy to know her Ryu Tsui Sen had
struck cleanly, though there would be no visible
mark on the target. If anyone were to examine
her sword, they would have noticed that it was
a sakabato (reversed edge).
As the 19th inheriter, her skill with
the family blade was nearly flawless.
Nearly.
As much as it pained her to admit it,
she knew instinctively that there was
still something missing from her technique.
It was the same stumbling block that had prevented
her father and his father before him from ever
truly mastering the Way of the Heavenly Sword.
The secret succession technique: "Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki",
which her great-great-grandfather had never passed
on to the inheritors of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.
.........
The bishonen finished the latest round of orders
in record time. Business was always good around
the high schools, the local lunchlines were
places where angels feared to tread.
"Wow! this is the best Okonomiyaki I've ever had!"
With a nod and a smile to acknowledge the
compliment the ponytailed cook deftly flipped
another sizzling piece onto the customer's plate.
"Thanks Sugar."
She almost had enough money saved
up to continue her quest once again.
All she had to do was be patient.
{No matter how long it takes, I'll track
those worthless Saotomes down.}
Ukyo was good at waiting.
For nearly ten years she had been preparing
herself for the day when she would finally
get her hands on the thieving Saotomes.
Her hunger for vengence had only grown sharper
with the passage of time. Each hour that
her retribution was put off only served to
fuel the merciless flames smouldering inside
of her shattered soul.
Revenge. It was now the single driving force
of her life. All of her thoughts, all of her
energy was focused on avenging the loss of her
family's honor.
She wasn't a woman anymore. Not since she
had turned her back on anything having to
do with being feminine. Nor was she a man,
despite her best efforts to fit into that
role. She could dress like them and she
could talk like them, but she would never
truly be one of them.
Ukyo was a misfit in either world.
And it was all *their* fault.
Genma and Ranma would both pay for their crimes.
There was no possible excuse for what they'd done.
They'd tricked her once, but now she knew exactly
what the honeyed lies of a thief were good for.
Absolutely nothing.
Just like the old tales about the family
battle spatula being made from the remains
of a gigantic horse-killer sword that her
great-great-grandfather was supposed to
have carried around a long time ago.
Utter nonsense.
.........
As mansions went this one wasn't the finest,
nor was it even remotely friendly in appearance.
Then again, neither were its inhabitants.
Tatewaki Kuno knelt before his family's elegant
ancestral shrine. A gleaming katana was placed
in the front, the Kuno family sword. Engraved on
its handle in gold kanji was the Kuno family motto.
Three cold and remorseless words
which now stared back at him.
Aku...
..Soku...
..Zan.
Sin. Swift. Slay.
~~~~~~
Chapter IV: First Strikes
by Shade
Disclaimer: If you think I own the series here,
you're crazier then I am!
~~~~~~
Part A: All Good Things Must Come To An End
~~~~~~
It is said by many that space is a quiet place.
Normally they're right.
But not this time.
*KABOOM*
The scream of dying metal and flesh echoed across the void
as a fast fading explosion briefly lit up the darkness.
One of many that day.
Over the gray skies of the planet Ristmoth, a humble
Terra class planet that orbited a perfectly ordinary
M class yellow star, a desperate battle raged on.
Over five hundred heavy warships battered away at each other
as thousands of individual dogfights took place between them.
So small compared to these behemoths were they that the only
visible sign of them was the intermittent displays of red laser
fire and orange plasma bursts along with the occasional brief
white flash as a volley of missiles, an individual fighter or
(as was more often the case) both at once exploded in the cruel
void between the stars.
Among these dueling Titans a familiar shape shuddered
as it was engulfed in explosion after explosion.
"Damage Report!"
Commander Ayla roared as the acrid smell of overloaded
circuitry filled the bridge beyond the air recycler's
ability to handle.
Cursing slightly at a sparking panel that had blown out
from the last hit, Sammy hit a few keys and read off
from the readout that popped up.
"Forward Shields down to 55%. Starboard Quad Cannons
are off line..."
A few of the red lights on her display exploded, sending hot bits in all
directions. Despite this she went on, the deadly projectiles bouncing
off her armor's protective faceplate.
"...Main Guns still down. Auxiliary power has been
temporarily knocked out, Engineering reports that
it'll take at least ten minutes to get back."
*ZZZZT*
The small electrical blaze that broke out was quickly
extinguished by a thick covering of white retardant foam
from the ship's fire prevention system.
"The rest of our shields are holding, barely."
Another shudder passed through the hull as four Imperial
Blood Furies resumed pounding on the Untamed Stallion's
weakening defensive energy field. One on one the corvette's
formidable weaponry was normally capable of dispatching
these destroyers with minimal difficulty.
But four of them ganging up on her at once while
the main guns were still inoperable left the ship
desperately fighting for her life.
"Are our primary batteries ready to fire?"
"Aye, Commander! Missile bays are standing by as well."
"Target the lead destroyer's weakest facing shield and
concentrate all fire on it. I want the secondary batteries
to hit it as well."
"Yes Ma'am! Shall I launch Missiles?"
"Not yet. Beams only."
"Understood."
"Fire!"
An intense swarm of blue green lights marked the path
of medium laser cannons that lashed out from the Rebel
ship against her opponent in a dazzling display of destruction.
It was followed by a scattering of light particle beams
and heavy plasma blasts from the secondary batteries.
The scimitar shaped vessel's port shield flared up
for a moment before going down in a fiery pyrotechnic
display. Several of the lasers slipped past to gouge
deeply into the enemy ship's blast scored armor.
While not destroyed, that side was now badly weakened
and open to further attack.
No fool, the enemy captain immediately started to rotate
his vessel to present a side with a active shield still up
toward the Rebel ship while it licked its wounds. The other three
warships continued to pour on the fire, ignoring their companion's
plight in hopes of profiting from his loss. The Untamed Stallion was
nimble enough to dodge some of the incoming attacks, but not all of them.
The mighty starship trembled as its shields finally buckled and beams of
destructive energy began to tear into the heavily armored hull.
"Commander!?" Tania looked worried,
even their reinforced armor couldn't
take this kind of punishment for long.
"Stand by with Proton Torpedoes." The transformed Dragon's
jade eyes seemed to be searching for something on the viewscreen.
Her hand came up and waited patiently for the sign.
A large mushroom fireball bloomed forth from the unshielded side of
the Imperial ship that had been wounded earlier. Smaller chain reactions
went off as the antimatter containment fields for the main power reactor
failed. Particles with opposite charges came in contact with each other...
Another small star lit the night sky of Ristmoth.
Ayla smiled grimly. The twins always did have a flair for the dramatic.
{One down, three to go.}
Two dark arrowshaped fighters zoomed above and below
the expanding cloud of atomized particles. The familiar
silhouettes of the Untamed Stallion's Katana Starfighters
were a welcome sight to the crew.
The radio crackled as the self proclaimed
"Dirty Pair's" excited banter filled the bridge.
"Good shot Sis!"
"Now it's your turn to teach
them the true terror of the
Lovely Angels!"
The Commander sweatdropped. Trust the Captain
to have come up with such a bad nickname that
just stuck to the resident ace pilots and certified
maniacs. She cursed the moron who had told him about
the mythical "Kei" and "Yuri", the most feared legends
in all the Multiverse. Even the Gods didn't dare
to utter those names aloud, for fear that the
myths might actually turn out to be real.
Though it *did* seem to be appropriate for
Akiko and Yukio, especially considering how
much damage they normally caused in a fight.
Naturally the Kreeghor did what most sane people
do when faced with a pair of crazy Turbojockies
in their preferred vehicles of choice.
They panicked.
Any sense of formation disappeared as each ship
tried to individually bring their armaments
to bear on this new and far more immediate threat.
The Imperial Forces tended to favor obedience over
initiative or competency, this type of unexpected
situation caught them with their tactical pants down.
Their normal escort of power armors that was supposed
to protect them from dangers like this had been shot
to pieces earlier by the exceptional gunners aboard
the Untamed Stallion.
The Imps were in trouble. And they knew it.
Yukio laughed out loud as she teasingly wove through
the frantic hailstorm of defensive fire from her target
and released two of her cruise missiles from her fighter's
external pylons as she closed to point blank range.
The speed of the warheads was such that they crossed the distance,
slammed into the second Destroyer's shields and detonated in less
then a second. Part of the blast reached out to lick at the Katana's
shields but the fighter's barrier held as the Turbojocky maneuvered
past to go after the next ship. The same could not be said for the
Blood Fury, its weakened defensive energy field was no match for the
full destructive fury of the antimatter devices. Although the hull
was mostly unscathed the vessel was now ripe for the plucking without
her shields.
Ayla had been counting on that.
Her eyes narrowed vengefully.
"Missiles...FIRE!!"
The Stallion's six long range launchers quickly spat out a rapid fire
spread of glowing projectiles that homed in on the stricken enemy vessel.
Twenty-four heavy proton torpedoes smashed into the hull of the
Imperial ship one after another and exploded in an ever expanding
chain of red fireballs. Unfortunate crew members caught in the heart
of the blasts were dead before they ever realized it. Individual decks
inside the destroyer blew apart, scattering razor sharp shards of metal
and wiring that caused even more havoc as each explosion ripped deeper
and deeper into the bowels of the doomed ship.
The stress on its spine finally proved too much as the
combined force from inertia and vibrations from the secondary
explosions of the torpedo strike combined to literally rip
the destroyer in two. The forward half immediately went dark
as its power conduits were severed from the engines and started
to drift.
Eventually the wreck would be caught in Moth's gravity
well and become a swarm of shooting stars burning up
in the planet's atmosphere.
The remaining Blood Furies began to run as the Twin's last batch
of missiles knocked out their facing shields. Their gunners
prevented the starfighters from finishing the job as both turned
to prevent the Stallion from getting a clear target.
Just in time to give the two Black Eagle Fighters coming in from behind
a clean shot. While they carried only two anti-ship warheads apiece,
against these relatively light warships two was more then enough.
~~~~~~
An audible sigh of relief passed across the bridge as the last two
destroyers joined their brothers in the bleak darkness of the Void.
That had been too close for comfort, another few minutes and they
might not have made it. It had been a stroke of luck indeed for their
fighters to have been in the enemy's blind spot, the emissions from
their sublight engines masking the profiles of state of the art Katanas
long enough for them to get close enough so that no point defense system
could possibly intercept their deadly cargo in time.
The Untamed Stallion had already engaged and destroyed six enemy ships
and dozens of enemy fighters with minimal difficulty early in the battle.
But then their luck had turned and the Escort Carrier that they'd managed to
sneak up on and cripple got off a distress call before they could kill it.
Though the risk had been high the crew couldn't resist taking out an enemy
carrier, even if it was only a light version.
The Maimers had closed in a entrapment formation to engage the corvette
before the Untamed Stallion could engage its stealth systems and break
away, forcing the ship to abandon her normal Hit and Fade tactics that made
her so many times more deadly then its size would indicate and revert
back to "Classic" space warfare.
It had been a close call. But they were still
alive and their attackers were now sucking vacuum.
That was the good news.
Then Sammy gave them the bad news.
"That last barrage got us good, we're not
going to be able to cloak again without a
long stay at a Drydock."
"Damn."
"Hornet and Falcon are coming back to reload, the Twins are
standing by in holding pattern. What are your orders, Ma'am?"
"Tania, patch us through to the tactical network."
"Aye, Commander."
Almost immediately after the delicate communications
officer opened the channel the chaos of the ongoing
battle filled the bridge.
"Battleship Liberator keep those destroyers away from the medical frigate...
Lost tactical defense quadrant 14....heavy enemy starfighter presence
in Sector 3.....Alpha leader to Wolf Pack, we need a hole punched through
that blockade line! Gold squadron, Liberty squadron cover them...copy Alpha
lead-*SHRIEEK**Hissss*....I can't shake him!...Red five...I'm on him...
I'm hit! I'm hit!! Argg-*Static*..Cruiser Vigilant begin EVAC recovery..."
Wincing in apology Tania turned the volume down, though not before
the rest of the officers felt their ears ringing slightly from the blaring
roar of the Alliance's battle transmissions. Then one particular message
caught everyone's attention.
"...flagship under heavy enemy attack! Request all available
units to assist HopeBringer!! Situation Critical!!"
The blood seemed to freeze in Ayla's veins.
If they lost their only Super Dreadnought along with Admiral Iblis,
the Rebel fleet's coordination would fall apart and they'd be pounded
to bits against the crushing weight of the Imperial blockade line.
"You heard them people. MOVE!"
They didn't need to be told twice.
~~~~~~~
No love was lost between the Imperial Navy and the Rebel Fleet,
the brutal atrocities of the Empire's finest had earned them
the undying hatred of the Freedom Fighters and the stubborness
of a few planets that refused to bow down to the military might
of the Kreeghor threatened the Trans-galactic Juggernaught's very
way of life. So it was with savage fury that these bitterest of
enemies smashed into each other with weapons of matter and energy,
kamikaze attempts from both sides were not uncommon as helpless
damaged vessels tried to take a few more of the enemy with them
into oblivion.
The heaviest concentration of fighting had gradually shifted
to engulf the Alliance's flagship. While initially the HopeBringer's
heavy firepower had managed to hold the upper hand for the first
few minutes of the engagement, as more and more enemy ships engaged
the gigantic warship and her escorts gradually the sheer numbers began
to take their toll.
One by one the protecting cluster of Battleships and Cruisers that made up
her taskforce had been eliminated, leaving the symbol of the Free Worlds
alone and in big trouble. Over thirty Kreeghor Smashers and Berserkers
had the lone Doombringer super dreadnought pinned down now, a smaller
group of twenty four Ripper gunships and Deathclaw battlecruisers backed
by a full twelve squadrons of Fang interceptors blocked all attempts by
the Alliance to relieve their beleaguered flagship as well as making it
impossible for the HopeBringer to retreat. Any vessel big enough to be of
aid could never slip past all of the watching sensors and would be engaged by
the capital ships, while fighters didn't have enough firepower on their own
to make a difference and would be picked off by the Intercepters.
Six Rebel battleships were currently at the very fringes of the life or death
drama playing out, held back by the missile volleys of the DeathClaws and high
intensity laser barrages of the oversized Gunships. Their protective escort
of fighters were unable to aid them, as they had their hands full fighting off
the Kreeghor's elite pilots.
A gambling man would have bet every penny he had that
the Alliance Dreadnought was doomed. The chances of
a rescue attempt getting through that massed firepower
was astronomical, the likelihood of it succeeding even less so.
But the Untamed Stallion had a nasty habit of beating the odds.
~~~~~~~~
-Into the Breach
"Black Eagles are reloaded and ready to go.
Just give them the word, Commander."
"Auxillary power reestablished. Reaper Turrent back online."
"My board is green, looks like they haven't seen us yet."
"Tactical situation analysis coming in. Punching it up now."
"Engineering here, we've almost locked down the auxillery
power conduit on Deck 4. Give me another couple of minutes
and we should be have the Main Guns up and running again."
With a smooth efficiency they prepared to carry out
what most people would consider a suicide mission.
For this crew, it was just another job they had to do.
"All right people, time to earn our princely paychecks again."
~~~~~~~~~
-There's a Stick in Your Eye
"He's late."
"Take it easy, Murray.
The Alliance is paying
us enough to wait for him."
"I still don't like it, Captain."
The first mate went back to cradling his power halberd.
Over 3 meters tall, the seljuk bore an uncanny resemblence
to the predatory dinosaurs that his kind had descended
from.
Captain William Borshenko shook his head at his friend's impatience.
His shoulder length blond hair and blue eyes combined with
his Nordic features gave him the appearence of a Viking
of old. One of the more notorious Runners of the Three Galaxies,
he was also someone who could be relied on to keep his word.
"Don't worry, this'll be a piece of cake.
Just pick up one agent and their cargo
and drop them off at the nearest Freeworld
base. Simple as that."
"I still think that contract was too good to be true."
"Oh c'mon, what could possibly go wrong?"
At that exact moment an out of control hovercycle
with two panicking riders came crashing down.
The bike's underside screeched like an Argalian hyena
in labor as it bounced and skidded right towards them.
"Look out!!"
"Get outta the way!!"
The surprised captain and his first mate dived to
either side to avoid a potentially fatal collision
with this duo who were obviously insane, intoxicated,
or both.
Seeing that they weren't going to stop in time
Nicholas finally hit the emergency ejection system.
The seat, with both Nick and Katrina clinging desperately
to it, blasted straight up as a brief but powerful rocket
booster kicked in. The hovercycle, now totally out of control,
continued on for several hundred meters before smashing right
into the side of a cargo shuttle. Under normal conditions
such a hit would have done little more then leave a few
minor dents in the hull and totally obliterated the bike.
Unfortunately, *this* shuttle had been in the middle of refueling.
Even worse, it had an ion drive. Which required large quantities
of (relatively) cheap *hydrogen* fuel. And the bike rammed one
of the enormous fuel lines head on.
The resulting explosion was seen from as far as a mile away.
~~~~~~~
-Brave, Suicidal, or just plain Nuts?
They went in hard and fast.
Three Interceptors directly in the way died in plasma
fireballs, never even seeing the ship that killed them.
Without her cloaking device to hide them from hostile
sensors they had to rely on their active ECM systems
to blind the enemy's electronic eyes and ears.
It was a long shot, but it was all they had to work with.
Her own fighters stayed tight against the Stallion's flanks
as she bore down on the blockade at maximum military acceleration,
hiding their weaker radar profiles inside her sensor shadow.
Despite her attempt at stealth a pair of Gunships
spotted the corvette in time to attempt an intercept.
Before they even got into their energy range
the Stallion's Grim Reaper opened up on them.
At 10 tons, the heavily armored "Reaper" gravity mega-cannon
was the third largest weapon system mounted on the Rebel
ship. Its rate of fire was over 300 rounds per minute.
Each shell was composed of pure tritonium and was no bigger
then the average golf ball. When fired, the kinetic energy
imparted to an individual round was comparable to that of
old style atomic weapons.
The volley smashed into the two Rippers like a Hammer of God.
For those aboard the doomed vessels it
was their own little front seat to Hell.
Shields flared and died, Mega-damage alloy
screamed and buckled, and the tiny lives
aboard the ships were mercilessly blown
out of existance by the lethal bombardment.
The Untamed Stallion never slowed as she
passed the gutted remains of the Gunships.
She was after bigger game.
~~~~~~~~~
-Stick It Where the Sun Don't Shine!
"Borshenko?"
The captain gave the man an odd look.
"Speaking. Who the hell are you two lunatics?"
"I'm your ride."
Murray snorted.
"I knew it! 'Easy mission' he said, 'don't worry' he said. Hah!"
Shooting a dirty look at the gloating seljuk,
Will was quick to note the discrepency between
what he'd been told and the reality.
"We were told to expect one passenger and cargo."
Nick shrugged unapologetically.
"She's the cargo."
Now it was Sun's turn to glare at him.
"Who are you calling CARGO?"
The Rebel agent at least had the grace to look a little sheepish.
"We weren't sure what to expect earlier,
so to keep our cover we decided to book
the space for cargo rather then another
passenger."
"You are *so* dead if we get out of this alive."
Will gave Katrina an admiring look.
An established ladies man, he had
wasted no time in figuring that this
particular adventurer was cut above
the rest.
"Any preferences as to our departure time?"
"Right now would be good. We left some Imperial problems back there."
Nick jerked a thumb back in the direction he and Sun had come from.
"Bloody sodding hell!"
"Take it easy, Murray."
Borshenko tapped the communicater
attached to his shirt's collar.
"Get ready to lift off now, Auntie.
Our fare needs a quick exit."
"Trouble?"
"Probably. Better warm up the guns
while you're at it."
"Aye aye, Captain. Auntie out."
The four of them moved quickly toward the ship.
Unnoticed, a solitary figure watched
their progress from a distance.
And smiled.
~~~~~~~~~
-The Heat Is On
"Well, they know we're here."
She'd hoped that they'd be able to get closer first,
but they had to play the hand that had been dealt
to them.
"Engineering, I need those Main Guns back up now!"
"Three more minutes!"
Three minutes. Might as well have been an eternity.
Smasher class heavy cruisers had been the standard
ships of line for the Imperial Navy for almost three
hundred years. They were built to last and no slouches
in the weapons department either. Only in the last few
decades had the Empire begun to replace them with the new
Slayer class battlecruiser, the most infamous example of
which was the Dark Impaler commanded by none other then
the Untamed Stallion's nemesis "Ironclaw" Jarenz. But it
would be centuries before Smashers were fully phased out
of Imperial service, and without her heaviest weapons
available the Rebel corvette's chances against the even
dozen currently pounding away on the command ship were grim.
"Enemy Fangs incoming!"
Ayla swore softly as several squadrons of fighters
broke off from the main attack and began to close
in on them.
"We're on them, Control."
The four fighters that had been sticking close
to the corvette altered course and split into
two pairs to intercept.
"Keep it quick Meia. We don't have time to tangle it up with them."
"Rodger."
The Squadron Leader's cool voice was all business.
"You heard her ladies. Pick your targets for the
first pass and go, but remember our main targets
are the Smashers. Stick around for an engagement
and those Imps will be all over your ass.
"Dibs on the ones to the left!"
"No fair! You called dibs last time!"
"Cut the chatter! Here they come!!"
Space erupted in light and fury
as the Rebel squadron recklessly dove
into the heart of the Imperial formation.
~~~~~~~~
-Among the Living
The transition from semi-consciousness
to full awareness was almost instantaneous.
He awoke to find the pain from his injuries
almost entirely gone. Although still greatly
weakened it seemed that this Cosmoknight
would live to fight another day.
That still didn't stop him from berating
himself as he looked up at the unfamilar
ceiling.
{Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Drizzt would
have disowned me as his student twice over
if he'd seen that fiasco. Once for letting them
get the drop on me, the other for not having
a backup plan in case my first one didn't work.}
Carefully Ranma pulled himself up to a sitting position.
He winced as various parts of his body suddenly complained
about this movement. He was alive and mostly in one piece,
but obviously his body wasn't in much better condition
then that.
{Where am I?}
Ranma studied the dressings on his shoulder and chest
curiously, he had considerable (firsthand) experience
with this kind of thing and could recognize exceptional
handiwork when he saw it. Whoever had bandaged him up
had known what they were doing. Surprising, especially
since he was pretty certain that this wasn't a hospital
or a clinic.
A good thing too, as any doctor worthy of the title
wouldn't have taken long to discover several very
alarming differences between his body and that of
your average ordinary human being.
Like the fact that no normal syringe
on Earth was capable of penetrating
his skin, though there were many witnesses
of the feminine gender who could vouch
that it certainly *felt* human enough.
{What's the last thing I remember?}
Cushioning his head as he fell...
Large, nicely tanned and ever so soft...
{...Breasts?! That can't be right! Can it?}
"Oh! You're awake."
The other voice came as a complete surprise.
{Gah!?}
Ranma turned and found himself staring
into the eyes of one of the most beautiful
women he had ever seen. How had she managed
to sneak up on him like that?!
"We were worried for awhile, your injuries were quite severe."
"Ah..."
For some reason this woman reminded him of Kasumi.
But despite her incredible beauty, he did not feel
the same sharp hunger that Sailor Pluto had aroused within
him. This woman possessed a powerful sense of presence
that literally took his breath away. It was like being
wrapped in a soft down comforter by a cheery fire,
warm and soothing. For some reason he was reminded
of his mother.
"Oh, I've forgotten to introduce myself.
My name is Belldandy. Welcome to our home."
He was abruptly reminded by her introduction
of other, more ancient codes of conduct.
Her rendering of aid had placed him in
obligation to her.
"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."
And he was a man who always repaid his debts.
"I suspect that I owe you my life, Belldandy-dono."(1)
He was surprised when she blushed at the honorific.
"Please, just Belldandy is fine."
"As you wish...Belldandy. I am in your debt."
She shook her head in polite negation.
"You don't owe me anything, Ranma.
Being able to save a life is reward enough."
Such gentle honesty was rare, even among those he called friends
and allies. This kind of innate purity helped keep his
faith in humanity and the other "civilized" races alive.
But a promise was a promise was a promise.
"Never the less, if there is anything within
my power to do for you, you need only ask."
His voice, while still softly polite,
was also solid with honest determination.
Seeing no other recourse, Belldandy accepted with a polite nod.
She was rewarded by a slight relaxation in his features,
and the return of the curiosity in his eyes that she had
seen when he first turned to look at her.
"Is it uncomfortable?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your suit, it looks broken."
Ranma looked down at himself.
{I forgot all about that!}
"Thank you for reminding me, that completely slipped my mind."
He concentrated on his armor.
The dark material flashed and suddenly became
a thousand shining silver motes of light that
softly descended all around him and evaporated
before they ever touched the floor.
In its place was revealed the pig tailed hero,
wearing the same clothes that he'd had on earlier
before transforming into his Cosmic form.
He gave the goddess an innocent look.
"Is this better?"
"Oh my, yes."
Not that his attire was out of the way,
Ranma's curiosity had returned.
"So what's a nice goddess like you doing in Japan?"
Her face brightened.
"Well you see, it all started three years ago when I visited Keiichi..."
Belldandy started pouring the tea that she had brought
into two cups without ever interrupting her story.
Ranma smiled back as he took one. It smelled wonderful.
He started to make himself as comfortable as he could
under the circumstances. This was probably going to
take a little while.
~~~~~~~
-Where there's smoke...
Their fighters had managed to disrupt most of
the Fangs, causing more confusion in their ranks
then actual damage. A few of them actually managed
to make it to the Untamed Stallion where they were
greeted by a barrage of short range missiles from
her launchers and a mixed assortment of lasers and
particle beams from the remaining armored turrents
scattered across the ship's hull.
Fewer still survived the encounter intact,
and none of the fleeing survivers were eager
to come to grips with the deadly Rebel ship
any time soon.
That fact did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Imperials.
Finally they realized the threat that was rapidly approaching
their positions and reacted.
"We're being hit with active radar pulses!"
Alarms started blaring from Sammy's console.
"They've got missile lock!!"
The tactical map that was projected onto the main screen
showed numerous electronic yellow triangles circled in
blinking red making their way toward the blue dot representing
their ship. Probable tractories and assignment of threat
priorities flashed rapidly and danced across the screen
as the ship's sensors fed the main tactical computer a
constant stream of updates.
It was only a ranging volley, the distance was
still long even for capital ship missiles.
But the total number of warheads launched
was still more then enough for the Stallion's
crew to take them seriously.
"Engage countermeasures!"
Dozens of counter-missiles raced out to engage
and destroy the approaching warheads. Upon
reaching a preset distance from the ship the
larger ones detonated and blossomed into a
sea of thermo-nuclear flame.
Missiles died by the score as they were consumed
in the hearts of miniature suns, others that passed
through did so blindly, their electronic brains
fried by EMP. (2)
Smaller counter-missiles went directly for
their targets, burning out their drives to
reach short term accelerations that exceeded
even the full thrust of capital ship missiles.
Their warheads contained only a fraction of
the destructive power that their larger brothers
possessed. Yet that was more then enough
to not only destroy the missiles they hit,
but also detonate *their* much more destructive
warheads too. More often then not, the blasts
took out other missiles nearby, resulting in
the domino effect of missile fratricide.
As the remainder of the swarm closed,
a hail of railgun rounds swept out from
rapid firing armored mounts scattered across
the ship, tearing apart anything that got in
their way.
The barrage killed more of the warheads,
but the harried survivers stubbornly
continued on.
The Stallion's Defense Grid was waiting for them.
Forty eight computer controlled point defense
lasers emitted rods of solid light in a dazzling
protective blue web of such mathmatical complexity
that the effect was as beautiful as it was lethal.
The last warhead died barely fifty meters from the corvette's hull.
And then it was their turn.
The Rebel ship's replying volley was comprised entirely
of spoofers and jammers, every electronic warfare bird
remaining in her arsenal was launched in a single flight.
The effect was simply devastating.
Imperial targeting systems were flooded with not thousands,
but *millions* of false targets. Sensor consoles crashed
from the influx of impossible data being fed to them.
Missile fire controls burned out from the sheer power
of the ECM being thrown at them.
It bought the Stallion precious time as the enemy scrambled
to bring their systems back on line. The rain of missiles being
launched at them died down to scattered individual launches
that were easily picked off by the corvette's anti-missile
defenses.
And then over the intercom came the sweetest
words that the Commander had ever heard from
the chief engineer.
"Main Guns Operational!"
The nearest cruiser had just begun to turn
in order to bring its devastating Energy Lance
to bear on them. One of the great flaws of
earlier Imperial designs were that while powerful,
most of their heavy beam weapons were mounted
on fixed positions. This allowed them to throw
a considerable amount of firepower forward,
but it also limited their weapons' arc of fire
to a narrow cone in front of the ship.
Normally this wouldn't have mattered against
any ship lighter then a heavy cruiser, since
even factoring in the approaching Rebel ship's
incredible acceleration the Smasher would still be
able to complete its turn and open fire while remaining
well outside the range of the medium laser cannons that
comprised her primary batteries.
But this time, arrogance cost the Kreeghor dearly.
On the main screen a blue targeting icon
bracketed the Smasher and went red as it
acquired a firing solution.
"Kill that cruiser!!"
~~~~~~~~
-The Lady *IS* the Tiger
"Hey sis, is that guy awake ye-HELLO NURSE!!"
Urd stared.
She couldn't help it.
She'd thought-er-she'd *hoped* that their patient
would turn out to be at least easy on the eyes.
Her earlier assumptions had been all wrong.
This guy wasn't cute at all.
He was absolutely Gorgeous!
{I want to make him mine!}
"Oh Urd, this is Ranma. Ranma, my older sister Urd."
"Hi."
The Cosmoknight recognized her as the one he'd had to carry
around (which he *really* hoped she'd forgotten about by now).
Then he noticed that she was just staring at him
with a predatory intensity while scarlet bloomed
in her cheeks.
He sweatdropped
{Okay, *now* I'm worried.}
~~~~~~~~
-Speak softly and carry a...
Oversized.
Ugly.
Slow.
Power sinkholes.
Impractical.
A waste of money.
Impossible.
Every person who'd first heard of what
the Captain had planned to do had told
him some or all of the above.
Even Silvia, who was obsessed with almost every type of
technological gadget imaginable, had told Captain Saotome
that he was "Outta u're bleedin no'ggin to ins'all thee'
monstrosities!"
What they had been talking about was the
refit of the Untamed Stallion's main guns.
Ranma had ordered the original Beta VII medium
laser cannons pulled out and replaced them with
a pair of Mark II Heavy Particle Beam Cannons.
Super Dreadnought Class weapons whose design
had been retired from active service in every
modern fleet of the Three Galaxies for over
six hundred years.
Each cannon was 100 meters long, almost a third
the length of the ship itself. Mounted on two
enormous armored structural pylons like the
ends of a giant tuning fork, they *were* the
front of the ship.
As a result of their size their firing arc was
restricted, although nowhere near as limited as an
Imperial Horn Cannon, to a 40 degree cone centered
on the front of the ship.
And then there were the power requirements.
The energy required to fire these monsters
was almost 40% of the Untamed Stallion' total
power output in *addition* to what their
own internal generators produced. It also took
27.741 seconds for the giant capacitators in
the cannons to build up the required charge for
each shot, and 1.865 seconds to cool the
firing chambers afterwards so that the blasts
wouldn't melt the cannons themselves, thus
limiting their rate of fire to no more then
one blast every 30 seconds.
In an age where miniaturization had reduced the
average size of capital ship's energy mounts to
two tons or less and given them an average firing
cycle of 3-7 seconds, they were antiques.
Obsolete pieces of junk that should have been scrapped long ago.
At least to everyone but Captain Saotome.
Because he had recognized the one thing that made up for it all.
For all their flaws, despite all the headaches
they brought, the Mark II's were reputed to be
the biggest, nastiest sons of bitches ever built
for a ship of the line. Nothing less then a battlecruiser
had the armor or the shields to survive a direct hit
from one of those cannons, let alone two. Their
effective range was also over ten times that of
an Imperial Energy Lance, giving the Stallion a
degree of fire superiority unmatched by any existing
light or medium class warship within the Three Galaxies.
And once again they proved their worth.
~~~~~~
The only warning was a hellish white glare
that flashed out from the front of the corvette.
Then two super-energized particle streams raced
out from the ship at the speed of light. No sooner
had they left then their preprogrammed vectors collided
and *merged* into a brilliant wave of pure annihilation.
For a ten thousandth of a second
the beam connected the two distant
vessels to each other.
Then the Smasher's far side bulged outward and vaporized
as the heavy particle beam passed through and out,
eating through forcefields and armor as though they
were so much cotton candy. There were no explosions at first,
every solid object directly in the beam's path had been
completely disintergrated.
Atmosphere rushed out through the giant holes in the cruiser's sides
as decompression set in. Omnisteel bulkheads collapsed inwards
like broken eggshells, crushing anything unfortunate enough to
get in the way.
Emergency systems struggled in vain to contain the damage.
Pressure locks slammed shut, but for much of the destruction
there simply wasn't anything left to close, and several decks
gave way as the pressure loss exceeded their structural capacity.
Inside one of those decks was the cruiser's armory,
which housed scores of capital ship missiles.
~~~~~~~~~
Captain Kazorh Darkshar of the Imperial Cruiser 'Smite'
witnessed with a mixture of horror and disbelief as
his ship's division mate 'Brawler' blew up in a frenzied
orgy of self destruction. Stored anti-matter warheads
detonated like a chain of dominos inside the cruiser's guts,
each fresh explosion triggering dozens more that reduced
the warship to white hot plasma in the space of two heartbeats.
{What in the Seven Hells was THAT?! It couldn't have
come from that ship! A corvette isn't supposed to
mount that kind of firepower!!}
"Sir, we're picking up a binary theta radiation
signature in that ship's drive emissions."
The sensor operator's face was deathly pale.
Darkshar suspected it had turned almost
as white as his own had upon hearing
the report.
{Emperor's Black Bones!}
There was only one FTL drive in the entire
Three Galaxies that had a binary theta emission.
{The Untamed Stallion! That's the UNTAMED STALLION!!}
He'd had the standard briefing of course,
every officer in the Imperial Navy knew about
Captain Saotome and his unusual vessel.
An experimental corvette stolen before it could
be delivered to the Empire. Nearly destroyed
during the Battle of Belicorn, then rebuilt
to the size of a light cruiser. The drive field
used a proto-gravitronic conversion array that
was 35% more efficent then anything either
the Empire or the Consortium currently had,
but also leaked trace amounts of quasi-quantum quarks
as a side effect of the mass-energy conservation
transfer.
There had always been numerous rumors floating around in
the Empire for years that the Untamed Stallion carried
something *extra* in the way of armament. Especially
given its kill ratio of destroyers and other light
warship classes that commonly served as escorts for
the transports and cargo ships which were a pirate's
favorite prey. But due to a deciding lack of surviving
first hand witnesses, that had never been accurately
confirmed through offical channels.
{Well now we know for sure,
for all the good that it does now!}
The Smite's captain was many things.
But dumb wasn't one of them.
"Pull the ship back! Do it now!!"
"Yes sir!"
The Smasher angled sharply up and away,
desperately putting distance between itself
and the Rebel ship in an attempt to get out
of the reach of its longer ranged cannons.
The Stallion's ECM bombardment had proved hellishly
effective against their standardized systems,
degrading missile fire control to such an extent
that they couldn't achieve the coordination
necessary to saturate the corvette's point defense.
Until they could reestablish their datalinks
the only way they could currently engage that
ship would be from within the *Stallion's*
energy envelope.
And with that kind of firepower advantage,
trying to close to beam range now would be
an act of suicide.
{But once we get our launchers back up,
then it'll be *their* turn to burn.}
A ship that size couldn't mount more then one
or two capital missile launchers at best,
and missile ranges were much longer then
that of even the most powerful energy weapon.
Captain Kazorh nodded to himself.
The initial panic had passed,
and his customary cool logic
reasserted itself.
{It managed to get the drop on us, but is still only one ship.
We're going to get hurt, but time is on our side.
Once our systems are back up we'll be able to throw enough missiles
that not even their defenses will be able to stop them all.}
They weren't beat yet, not by a long shot.
~~~~~~
"How long till the Main Guns recharge?"
Their desperate gambit had worked
better then Ayla had dared hope.
"Sixteen seconds to go."
They were now almost in range of the
Hopebringer and had taken only one
hit so far in return for their progress.
A lucky warhead fired wildly from one
of the Berserkers had been missed by
their defenses. But that had been
the only one that got through and
their shields had held firm against
the blast.
But it wouldn't last.
The Commander understood the fundamental weakness
of their position. Although they had managed to
disrupt the main group attacking the Command Ship,
whoever was in charge of those cruisers knew what
they were doing.
The Imps were moving outward to englobe the Stallion,
reducing the number of potential targets for the heavy
particle beam cannons. Although more manueverable then
the Smashers, the corvette's current acceleration reduced
its ability to change its heading by any significant margin.
Once the Imperials got their missiles back
their spread out formation would catch
the Stallion in a crossfire. That would
force them to divide their point defense,
lowering accuracy and volume coverage.
And the next round would be no mere ranging volley.
"Engage the Berserkers with missiles.
And if you manage acquire a torpedo lock
on any of those cruisers, take the shot."
"With pleasure!"
The helmswoman's fingers danced across the controls.
Two capital launchers went to constant rapid fire,
sending 48 missiles per minute scorching in on the
Imperial war frigates.
At the same time the Stallion's sensors focused
on one of the closest enemy cruisers and began
the laborious task of decrypting the energy
frequency of the forcefield shielding her target.
~~~~~~
-A Life for a Life
"So you see, it was all Mara's fault."
Urd continued to devour their guest with
her eyes even after she had finished her
story of the earlier events.
"Mara?"
"A Demoness First Class."
Something dangerous flashed in Ranma's eyes,
but he gave no other outward reaction upon
hearing that interesting tidbit of information.
"She likes to cause us trouble every now and then.
But I truly believe that she possesses a good heart
underneath it all."
Ranma was nothing short of astonished to hear
a *goddess* of all people defending a demon.
But looking into Belldandy's eyes, the Knight
found himself starting to understand her.
{She really cares about this Mara. Her words come straight from her heart.}
And yet...
{I can't let a demoness run loose. She has to be dealt with,
one way or another. The current situation is unstable enough
already. I don't need this to worry about too. Hell and damnation!!
Why couldn't I have gotten a "head's up" from the Forge *before*
getting into this mess!!}
Something from his conflicting thoughts must have shown on his face,
because suddenly Belldandy turned toward him with a serious expression
on her face.
"You won't hurt her, will you?"
He couldn't meet her gaze.
"Please."
Urd watched with some concern as she saw
her younger sister's eyes start to shimmer.
A tearful Belldandy always gave her a panicky
sensation in the pit of her stomach.
It had a similar effect on the Cosmoknight.
With a small sigh of defeat, he conceded.
"As you wish, Belldandy. I won't harm this Mara, you have my word on it."
"Thank you."
Ranma met her smile with a sheepish look.
{Just the hint of tears and I fall apart. Damn, I'm pathetic.}
Ishtar was just going to *love* this when she found out.
Speaking of which, wasn't he forgetting something?
{Uh oh!}
~~~~~~
-Countdown
{We're running out of time.}
The numbers scrolled coldly down
the readout of her seat's left arm.
They'd killed two more cruisers so far,
with another one so badly damaged that
it was limping away from the engagement.
But that still left eight Smashers
with the fourteen surviving Berserkers
and four regrouped squadrons of Fangs in support.
And the battle computer's best projection
gave them only a few more minutes before
the Imps restored their tactical networks.
Which would leave them with the worst
of both worlds. Still too far away to support
the flagship, but easy meat for the ships
surrounding them.
"Meia and the others are making their runs."
Ayla turned her head back towards the main screen.
{Damn it all! There has to be something else
we can do to keep up the pressure!}
~~~~~~~
-Departure
"Are you sure that you won't spend the night?
It wouldn't be any trouble at all."
"Yes, we've got *plenty* of space in *my* room."
The darkly tanned goddess was starting to make him nervous.
Urd's behavior reminded him far too much of certain brassy
crewmembers from the Untamed Stallion. What was it with
women and their weird obsession with sex anyway?
"Thanks, but no thank you. I've already imposed enough."
{Not to mention that the Tendos and my father
are probably wondering where the heck I am right
now. Hopefully I'll be able to think of something
before I get back.}
Before he left the temple, Ranma pressed
a small token into Belldandy's hands.
"If you ever need my help, just call and I'll be there."
The goddess nodded in understanding.
"You will always be welcome here.
Please be sure to visit us again."
"Yes, I'd like that. Until next time then."
He turned and walked away from the old temple.
In mere moments the young man disappeared into
the darkening streets.
"Do you think he'll really come back?
Urd looked slightly down, she missed him already.
"Yes. And I suspect it will be sooner then we think."
Belldandy went back inside to get dinner ready.
But her older sister stayed outside, watching and wondering.
~~~~~~~
-The Need for Speed
"Make these count, people."
Meia and her wing(wo)man started closing
to attack range of their target, weaving
in a tight spiral to avoid anti-fighter
fire from their target's gravity rail guns.
"Rodger that."
Yukio took the lead as the Katanas split
up to go after their own individual cruisers.
Unlike the Eagles, their fighters were carrying
enough capital missiles to make their own
seperate attack runs.
The screen of Intercepters was already
too far out to stop them. That just left
the anti-fighter turrets and mini-missile
launchers to watch out for. It was really
a pity, since the twins would have enjoyed
the added challenge.
{Oh well, we'll make do.}
Giggling like a schoolgirl the Turbojockey
watched the distance between herself
and her target evaporate like smoke
as she dived for the kill.
50 miles.
The twin thrills of speed and the accompanying danger
were what she and her sister lived for. In fact,
those had been the *only* things they'd used to live
for before being recruited aboard the Untamed Stallion.
40 miles.
Now the twins had two loves in life. Flying and Ranma.
And since one wasn't available right now,
they would make do with the other until
they could get their hands on him again.
30 miles.
A flick of a switch armed the warheads.
She was carrying a full load of FCAMs
with heavy anti-matter payloads.(3)
The Imps weren't going to enjoy this one bit.
20 miles.
The cruiser was already dead in her sights,
but Yukio's Katana continued to close.
She already had an iron solid lock,
but she wasn't about to give this
bastard any chance to intercept.
10 miles.
That meant a zero range launch.
With less then .1 seconds for point defense
to track, lock on, and fire, the possibility
of stopping her missiles would be
"a snowflake's chance in hell."
5 miles.
The range continued to fall.
{Almost there.}
2 mi-
"Missiles away!"
Four FCAMs belched from the Katana's internal racks
and smashed into the Smasher's shield in the blink
of an eye. The explosion blew through the energy barrier
like a sledgehammer striking glass, but its destruction
weakened the blast that actually hit the ship itself.
Armor slagged and twisted, yet the total damage was minor.
But that was okay.
Because Yukio had a little surprise for them.
"Burn baby, burn!"
From her weapon pods came four more FCAMs,
and this time there were no shields to stop
them.
~~~~~~~
-There Is No Cow Level
The range had closed enough for the ship's
six long range launchers to add to the fray.
Dozens of third generation anti-matter warheads
smashed against shields and armor as the pitful
point defense of the frigates were overwhelmed.
The Berserkers were missile ships, with powerful
launchers but relatively few other weapons.
One died. Then another.
But it still wasn't enough.
The fighters had turned more three cruisers
into air bleeding wrecks, but the Intercepters
had closed up behind them and were now directly
between them and the corvette. Tied up in dogfights,
Meia and the others wouldn't get back in time
to make any difference.
And the Berserkers were starting to shoot back.
They still couldn't coordinate their attacks,
but each frigate could put out four 20 missile
volleys a minute. With a dozen of them still
operational,the corvette's anti-missile defenses
worked overtime to keep the valiant vessel alive.
Only the fact that the Imps couldn't synchronize
their fire together gave the Stallion any chance
at all.
And despite their best efforts
a few still managed to get through.
They died against the shields, but each hit weakened
the corvette's energy barrier a little more.
{It's not over yet!}
"Navigation, how long till we reach the command ship?"
"We'll enter effective support range in eighty seconds."
An alert began flashing on the main screen.
-Warning-
-ECM field has expired.-
-Enemy Datanets now active.-
{Damn it all, not now! ...Wait a sec, what's that?!}
~~~~~~~
"Missile targeting is back online, Captain."
"Good work, commander. All missile bays,
lock on to the Untamed Stallion."
The other remaining cruisers and their
escorts were already turning their launchers
toward the corvette. Darkshar settled back
into his command chair and prepared to watch
the Rebel ship die.
"Fi-"
"Enemy missiles incoming!!"
"WHAT?!"
~~~~~~~
"Look at those birds go!!"
The whoop of victory came from the communications officer,
but just this once Ayla decided to let it slide in light
of the reason for her behavior.
The entire bridge crew's eyes were fixed on the main
screen where over eighty fighters led the way for
three battleships and a pair of starcruisers.
The outnumbered Fangs began to flee,
but the Stallion's fighters now took
a savage toll on the Imps as they
turned to run.
Even as the crew watched the comm crackled
and a voice from the approaching strikeforce
started coming over the speakers.
"This is Captain Dominic of the Tempest.
Thanks for punching us a hole, Stallion.
But those cruisers seem to have you a bit
outnumbered. Break off, you've done your job.
Now let us do ours."
The starcruisers' heavy missile batteries pounded
relentlessly on the Smashers while the battleships
turned their own mixed assortment of missile
and energy batteries on the Berserkers.
"You heard him, people. Time to move it or lose it!"
The Stallion veered sharply to the left,
putting distance between itself and the carnage
taking place. Her main guns took out another
Berserker as she swerved, and then it was the
Hopebringer's turn.
The superdreadnought used its brief reprieve
to go back on the offensive, pouring a hurricane
of fire from its surviving weapon systems into
the surrounding enemy vessels, and ship after
ship blew up. Even as they died, the flagship's
main engines began moving her clear of the Imperial
blockade.
"This is Admiral Iblis. Good work, Stallion."
"Thank you, Admiral."
The commander suspected that her satisfied
smile was being duplicated all over the ship.
{We did it!}
"Now prepare to retreat."
"Retreat?!"
Startled, Ayla turned back toward the main screen
and punched in a request for an update on the battle.
She had been so busy worrying about how they were
going help the flagship that she hadn't been paying
much attention to the status of the rest of the Rebel fleet.
The resulting display was far worse
then she could have possibly imagined.
"Mother of the First Ones..."
Earlier the fight had been on the verge of catastrophe,
now it was a complete disaster. The Rebels were down to
barely three quarters of the capital ships that they'd
brought into the system, and their losses among the
fighters and escorts had been even worse. Even now,
most of the surviving ships were being driven into
a last ditch defensive cluster that would last only
as long as their remaining fighters could keep the
swarms of Fang Intercepters off their flanks.
Even as she watched, fresh scarlet icons appeared
on the monitor as yet another pair of dreadnoughts
jumped into the system to join the sixty already
hammering away at the Rebel fleet.
That was bad enough, aside from the flagship
the heaviest unit class they'd brought were only
battleships, and they only had forty of them
left now. But the Imps *also* had a solid wedge
of five superdreadnoughts supported by a full
screen of lighter units, and the Rebels didn't
have anything which could possibly stop them.
It wasn't possible, it went against every existing
Imperial doctrine, but they bastards had finally done it.
The Empire had finally intergrated their heaviest ships
of the wall with the rest of the Imperial Fleet.
Always before the reigning emperors had been too
paranoid about putting that kind of firepower
in *any* admiral's hands, but the new Emperor
had somehow found a flag officer they could rely on.
And those five ships were the hammer that was
going to smash the Rebels against the anvil of
the dreadnoughts and the rest of the Imperial
fleet.
"All ships, this is the Flag. Prepare to withdraw from the system."
With a sense of numb horror, Ayla realized
that the only chance the Fleet now had was to try
and outrun the trap before it closed shut
around them. And the only way they could
do it was for the more expendable ships to drop
back and play rearguard in order to buy the slower
capital units the time they needed to break off
and clear the hyperlimit.(4)
"Carriers and transports are first priority.
All other remaining units fall back to hold
off the enemy."
Even as Admiral Iblis's orders went out,
a small part of Ayla's mind idly wondered
how many of them were going to survive
the coming gauntlet.
~~~~~~~~~
-Busted
Ranma gingerly held the intelligent sword at arm's length.
[R-A-N-M-A ! ! !]
The martial artist cringed on the roof he was currently perched on.
Ishtar was *PISSED*!
He would rather fight hordes of bloodthirsty monsters
any day then have to face the goddess's spirit when
she was angry. Less pain and suffering that way.
{Er...would it help if I said I'm sorry?}
[NO!!]
{Oh.}
So much for that idea.
[DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?! I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE DIED!!!}
At times like this Ranma wished that the bond
between himself and the rune weapon was not so
"intense". He could literally experience her
honest concern, the fear and anguish that her
outraged front hid, and it made him feel even
worse. Worse, he knew that she knew that he was
picking up her emotions.
Guilt was not something that Ranma knew how to deal with very well.
{Ishtar.}
So he did the very first thing that came to mind.
[What are you doing?!]
He expanded the link between them, embracing her with his presence.
The thin line between his consciousness and hers blurred and through
their connection he tried to reassure her at the most basic level.
[Ran-ma?!]
The sudden unexpectedness of it caught her off guard. Ishtar was swept away
in the sudden influx of her owner's innermost thoughts and feelings.
Normally it was only while he slept that Ranma revealed this side
of himself to her. Even in battle he reserved something back when
they joined together to fight. For some reason that not even Ishtar
had been able to figure out during their partnership, Ranma seemed
to always be trying to keep a part of himself at a distance emotionally
from other people. She suspected that it had something to do with that
strange mental block deep within his mind. It bothered her that there
seemed to be a gap in his memories, an empty hole from shortly before
they had met that she suspected might hold the answers to her dear but
often confusing Cosmoknight. But Ranma had always avoided the subject
whenever she'd brought it up and although she was curious, she would never
attempt to violate his consciousness by trying to find out without his permission.
And yet now he was letting her inside of him, letting her feel his
genuine remorse and his reaffirmation of the promise he had made
with Ishtar.
[{Together.
The bond that marked them both.
She was his and he was hers.
Always touching, never apart.
Yin to Yang, an elemental joining that only death could sever.}]
She clung to his mental presence with a strength born of uncounted
millenia of loneliness, seizing the comfort and reassurance his soul
offered and almost crying with relief that he was really here,
that she wasn't alone again.
{Ah?! Ahh!! Please don't cry! Ack!}
For Ranma, the sensations coming from the sword were
practically the same thing as if she'd actually started
crying in his arms. And if there was one thing that *really*
sent him into a panic, a crying female was it.
[Dummy. You big dummy.]
She couldn't seem to stop herself, the relief after
that long awful suspense of not knowing was too great.
Her bottled up emotions needed release, and so Ishtar
wept tears of thought while her owner awkwardly held her
and absorbed the tempest of her feelings as they swept
through him.
Ranma's sense of time faded as he rode out the storm,
but he eventually sensed a shift in the turbulance of
his partner's spirit.
{Ah...Are you alright now?}
The rune weapon glowed softly.
[Just hold me a little while longer.]
{Okay.}
-To be continued...
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
1) -dono: an honorific attached to the end of a person's name similar to -san and -chan.
But it is more formal and indicative of considerable respect, also used a lot by
a certain red headed rurouni...:P
2) EMP: ElectroMagnetic Pulse; a burst of electromagnetic energy normally produced by a nuclear reaction
that is infamous for frying electronic circuits.
3) Fighter Capital Assault Missile (FCAM): Big missiles equipped with heavy antimatter warheads,
the preferred weapon of choice for fighters to use
against larger warships. The main problem with them
is that their size limits the amount that can be carried
by the fighter, 2-6 is a standard payload. Not effective
against small targets like fighters or power armor.
4) Hyperlimit: The gravitational boundary surrounding a planet/star
within which no ship can go into hyperspace (faster then light).
Attempting to do so is a fast way to commit suicide,
since FTL drives tend to blow up when used inside the
hyperlimit. Ships also tend to lose against planetary
bodies when they collide since planets and stars are
bigger and more massive then they are. Size *does* matter. :P
Her feet barely made a whisper
as she launched herself toward
the target.
She swung in a single motion that
carried her straight past without
even disturbing the sleeves of her
kimono.
A single brief flash of light
was all that marked its passage.
So quick was the strike that her
blade seemed to never leave the
sheath. The "clink" as the hilt
slid back down was the only thing
that dispelled this illusion.
And then it was over.
The entire attack routine
had taken barely four seconds.
Nodoka didn't need to look back at the
practice dummy to know her Ryu Tsui Sen had
struck cleanly, though there would be no visible
mark on the target. If anyone were to examine
her sword, they would have noticed that it was
a sakabato (reversed edge).
As the 19th inheriter, her skill with
the family blade was nearly flawless.
Nearly.
As much as it pained her to admit it,
she knew instinctively that there was
still something missing from her technique.
It was the same stumbling block that had prevented
her father and his father before him from ever
truly mastering the Way of the Heavenly Sword.
The secret succession technique: "Ama Kakeru Ryu No Hirameki",
which her great-great-grandfather had never passed
on to the inheritors of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu.
.........
The bishonen finished the latest round of orders
in record time. Business was always good around
the high schools, the local lunchlines were
places where angels feared to tread.
"Wow! this is the best Okonomiyaki I've ever had!"
With a nod and a smile to acknowledge the
compliment the ponytailed cook deftly flipped
another sizzling piece onto the customer's plate.
"Thanks Sugar."
She almost had enough money saved
up to continue her quest once again.
All she had to do was be patient.
{No matter how long it takes, I'll track
those worthless Saotomes down.}
Ukyo was good at waiting.
For nearly ten years she had been preparing
herself for the day when she would finally
get her hands on the thieving Saotomes.
Her hunger for vengence had only grown sharper
with the passage of time. Each hour that
her retribution was put off only served to
fuel the merciless flames smouldering inside
of her shattered soul.
Revenge. It was now the single driving force
of her life. All of her thoughts, all of her
energy was focused on avenging the loss of her
family's honor.
She wasn't a woman anymore. Not since she
had turned her back on anything having to
do with being feminine. Nor was she a man,
despite her best efforts to fit into that
role. She could dress like them and she
could talk like them, but she would never
truly be one of them.
Ukyo was a misfit in either world.
And it was all *their* fault.
Genma and Ranma would both pay for their crimes.
There was no possible excuse for what they'd done.
They'd tricked her once, but now she knew exactly
what the honeyed lies of a thief were good for.
Absolutely nothing.
Just like the old tales about the family
battle spatula being made from the remains
of a gigantic horse-killer sword that her
great-great-grandfather was supposed to
have carried around a long time ago.
Utter nonsense.
.........
As mansions went this one wasn't the finest,
nor was it even remotely friendly in appearance.
Then again, neither were its inhabitants.
Tatewaki Kuno knelt before his family's elegant
ancestral shrine. A gleaming katana was placed
in the front, the Kuno family sword. Engraved on
its handle in gold kanji was the Kuno family motto.
Three cold and remorseless words
which now stared back at him.
Aku...
..Soku...
..Zan.
Sin. Swift. Slay.
~~~~~~
Chapter IV: First Strikes
by Shade
Disclaimer: If you think I own the series here,
you're crazier then I am!
~~~~~~
Part A: All Good Things Must Come To An End
~~~~~~
It is said by many that space is a quiet place.
Normally they're right.
But not this time.
*KABOOM*
The scream of dying metal and flesh echoed across the void
as a fast fading explosion briefly lit up the darkness.
One of many that day.
Over the gray skies of the planet Ristmoth, a humble
Terra class planet that orbited a perfectly ordinary
M class yellow star, a desperate battle raged on.
Over five hundred heavy warships battered away at each other
as thousands of individual dogfights took place between them.
So small compared to these behemoths were they that the only
visible sign of them was the intermittent displays of red laser
fire and orange plasma bursts along with the occasional brief
white flash as a volley of missiles, an individual fighter or
(as was more often the case) both at once exploded in the cruel
void between the stars.
Among these dueling Titans a familiar shape shuddered
as it was engulfed in explosion after explosion.
"Damage Report!"
Commander Ayla roared as the acrid smell of overloaded
circuitry filled the bridge beyond the air recycler's
ability to handle.
Cursing slightly at a sparking panel that had blown out
from the last hit, Sammy hit a few keys and read off
from the readout that popped up.
"Forward Shields down to 55%. Starboard Quad Cannons
are off line..."
A few of the red lights on her display exploded, sending hot bits in all
directions. Despite this she went on, the deadly projectiles bouncing
off her armor's protective faceplate.
"...Main Guns still down. Auxiliary power has been
temporarily knocked out, Engineering reports that
it'll take at least ten minutes to get back."
*ZZZZT*
The small electrical blaze that broke out was quickly
extinguished by a thick covering of white retardant foam
from the ship's fire prevention system.
"The rest of our shields are holding, barely."
Another shudder passed through the hull as four Imperial
Blood Furies resumed pounding on the Untamed Stallion's
weakening defensive energy field. One on one the corvette's
formidable weaponry was normally capable of dispatching
these destroyers with minimal difficulty.
But four of them ganging up on her at once while
the main guns were still inoperable left the ship
desperately fighting for her life.
"Are our primary batteries ready to fire?"
"Aye, Commander! Missile bays are standing by as well."
"Target the lead destroyer's weakest facing shield and
concentrate all fire on it. I want the secondary batteries
to hit it as well."
"Yes Ma'am! Shall I launch Missiles?"
"Not yet. Beams only."
"Understood."
"Fire!"
An intense swarm of blue green lights marked the path
of medium laser cannons that lashed out from the Rebel
ship against her opponent in a dazzling display of destruction.
It was followed by a scattering of light particle beams
and heavy plasma blasts from the secondary batteries.
The scimitar shaped vessel's port shield flared up
for a moment before going down in a fiery pyrotechnic
display. Several of the lasers slipped past to gouge
deeply into the enemy ship's blast scored armor.
While not destroyed, that side was now badly weakened
and open to further attack.
No fool, the enemy captain immediately started to rotate
his vessel to present a side with a active shield still up
toward the Rebel ship while it licked its wounds. The other three
warships continued to pour on the fire, ignoring their companion's
plight in hopes of profiting from his loss. The Untamed Stallion was
nimble enough to dodge some of the incoming attacks, but not all of them.
The mighty starship trembled as its shields finally buckled and beams of
destructive energy began to tear into the heavily armored hull.
"Commander!?" Tania looked worried,
even their reinforced armor couldn't
take this kind of punishment for long.
"Stand by with Proton Torpedoes." The transformed Dragon's
jade eyes seemed to be searching for something on the viewscreen.
Her hand came up and waited patiently for the sign.
A large mushroom fireball bloomed forth from the unshielded side of
the Imperial ship that had been wounded earlier. Smaller chain reactions
went off as the antimatter containment fields for the main power reactor
failed. Particles with opposite charges came in contact with each other...
Another small star lit the night sky of Ristmoth.
Ayla smiled grimly. The twins always did have a flair for the dramatic.
{One down, three to go.}
Two dark arrowshaped fighters zoomed above and below
the expanding cloud of atomized particles. The familiar
silhouettes of the Untamed Stallion's Katana Starfighters
were a welcome sight to the crew.
The radio crackled as the self proclaimed
"Dirty Pair's" excited banter filled the bridge.
"Good shot Sis!"
"Now it's your turn to teach
them the true terror of the
Lovely Angels!"
The Commander sweatdropped. Trust the Captain
to have come up with such a bad nickname that
just stuck to the resident ace pilots and certified
maniacs. She cursed the moron who had told him about
the mythical "Kei" and "Yuri", the most feared legends
in all the Multiverse. Even the Gods didn't dare
to utter those names aloud, for fear that the
myths might actually turn out to be real.
Though it *did* seem to be appropriate for
Akiko and Yukio, especially considering how
much damage they normally caused in a fight.
Naturally the Kreeghor did what most sane people
do when faced with a pair of crazy Turbojockies
in their preferred vehicles of choice.
They panicked.
Any sense of formation disappeared as each ship
tried to individually bring their armaments
to bear on this new and far more immediate threat.
The Imperial Forces tended to favor obedience over
initiative or competency, this type of unexpected
situation caught them with their tactical pants down.
Their normal escort of power armors that was supposed
to protect them from dangers like this had been shot
to pieces earlier by the exceptional gunners aboard
the Untamed Stallion.
The Imps were in trouble. And they knew it.
Yukio laughed out loud as she teasingly wove through
the frantic hailstorm of defensive fire from her target
and released two of her cruise missiles from her fighter's
external pylons as she closed to point blank range.
The speed of the warheads was such that they crossed the distance,
slammed into the second Destroyer's shields and detonated in less
then a second. Part of the blast reached out to lick at the Katana's
shields but the fighter's barrier held as the Turbojocky maneuvered
past to go after the next ship. The same could not be said for the
Blood Fury, its weakened defensive energy field was no match for the
full destructive fury of the antimatter devices. Although the hull
was mostly unscathed the vessel was now ripe for the plucking without
her shields.
Ayla had been counting on that.
Her eyes narrowed vengefully.
"Missiles...FIRE!!"
The Stallion's six long range launchers quickly spat out a rapid fire
spread of glowing projectiles that homed in on the stricken enemy vessel.
Twenty-four heavy proton torpedoes smashed into the hull of the
Imperial ship one after another and exploded in an ever expanding
chain of red fireballs. Unfortunate crew members caught in the heart
of the blasts were dead before they ever realized it. Individual decks
inside the destroyer blew apart, scattering razor sharp shards of metal
and wiring that caused even more havoc as each explosion ripped deeper
and deeper into the bowels of the doomed ship.
The stress on its spine finally proved too much as the
combined force from inertia and vibrations from the secondary
explosions of the torpedo strike combined to literally rip
the destroyer in two. The forward half immediately went dark
as its power conduits were severed from the engines and started
to drift.
Eventually the wreck would be caught in Moth's gravity
well and become a swarm of shooting stars burning up
in the planet's atmosphere.
The remaining Blood Furies began to run as the Twin's last batch
of missiles knocked out their facing shields. Their gunners
prevented the starfighters from finishing the job as both turned
to prevent the Stallion from getting a clear target.
Just in time to give the two Black Eagle Fighters coming in from behind
a clean shot. While they carried only two anti-ship warheads apiece,
against these relatively light warships two was more then enough.
~~~~~~
An audible sigh of relief passed across the bridge as the last two
destroyers joined their brothers in the bleak darkness of the Void.
That had been too close for comfort, another few minutes and they
might not have made it. It had been a stroke of luck indeed for their
fighters to have been in the enemy's blind spot, the emissions from
their sublight engines masking the profiles of state of the art Katanas
long enough for them to get close enough so that no point defense system
could possibly intercept their deadly cargo in time.
The Untamed Stallion had already engaged and destroyed six enemy ships
and dozens of enemy fighters with minimal difficulty early in the battle.
But then their luck had turned and the Escort Carrier that they'd managed to
sneak up on and cripple got off a distress call before they could kill it.
Though the risk had been high the crew couldn't resist taking out an enemy
carrier, even if it was only a light version.
The Maimers had closed in a entrapment formation to engage the corvette
before the Untamed Stallion could engage its stealth systems and break
away, forcing the ship to abandon her normal Hit and Fade tactics that made
her so many times more deadly then its size would indicate and revert
back to "Classic" space warfare.
It had been a close call. But they were still
alive and their attackers were now sucking vacuum.
That was the good news.
Then Sammy gave them the bad news.
"That last barrage got us good, we're not
going to be able to cloak again without a
long stay at a Drydock."
"Damn."
"Hornet and Falcon are coming back to reload, the Twins are
standing by in holding pattern. What are your orders, Ma'am?"
"Tania, patch us through to the tactical network."
"Aye, Commander."
Almost immediately after the delicate communications
officer opened the channel the chaos of the ongoing
battle filled the bridge.
"Battleship Liberator keep those destroyers away from the medical frigate...
Lost tactical defense quadrant 14....heavy enemy starfighter presence
in Sector 3.....Alpha leader to Wolf Pack, we need a hole punched through
that blockade line! Gold squadron, Liberty squadron cover them...copy Alpha
lead-*SHRIEEK**Hissss*....I can't shake him!...Red five...I'm on him...
I'm hit! I'm hit!! Argg-*Static*..Cruiser Vigilant begin EVAC recovery..."
Wincing in apology Tania turned the volume down, though not before
the rest of the officers felt their ears ringing slightly from the blaring
roar of the Alliance's battle transmissions. Then one particular message
caught everyone's attention.
"...flagship under heavy enemy attack! Request all available
units to assist HopeBringer!! Situation Critical!!"
The blood seemed to freeze in Ayla's veins.
If they lost their only Super Dreadnought along with Admiral Iblis,
the Rebel fleet's coordination would fall apart and they'd be pounded
to bits against the crushing weight of the Imperial blockade line.
"You heard them people. MOVE!"
They didn't need to be told twice.
~~~~~~~
No love was lost between the Imperial Navy and the Rebel Fleet,
the brutal atrocities of the Empire's finest had earned them
the undying hatred of the Freedom Fighters and the stubborness
of a few planets that refused to bow down to the military might
of the Kreeghor threatened the Trans-galactic Juggernaught's very
way of life. So it was with savage fury that these bitterest of
enemies smashed into each other with weapons of matter and energy,
kamikaze attempts from both sides were not uncommon as helpless
damaged vessels tried to take a few more of the enemy with them
into oblivion.
The heaviest concentration of fighting had gradually shifted
to engulf the Alliance's flagship. While initially the HopeBringer's
heavy firepower had managed to hold the upper hand for the first
few minutes of the engagement, as more and more enemy ships engaged
the gigantic warship and her escorts gradually the sheer numbers began
to take their toll.
One by one the protecting cluster of Battleships and Cruisers that made up
her taskforce had been eliminated, leaving the symbol of the Free Worlds
alone and in big trouble. Over thirty Kreeghor Smashers and Berserkers
had the lone Doombringer super dreadnought pinned down now, a smaller
group of twenty four Ripper gunships and Deathclaw battlecruisers backed
by a full twelve squadrons of Fang interceptors blocked all attempts by
the Alliance to relieve their beleaguered flagship as well as making it
impossible for the HopeBringer to retreat. Any vessel big enough to be of
aid could never slip past all of the watching sensors and would be engaged by
the capital ships, while fighters didn't have enough firepower on their own
to make a difference and would be picked off by the Intercepters.
Six Rebel battleships were currently at the very fringes of the life or death
drama playing out, held back by the missile volleys of the DeathClaws and high
intensity laser barrages of the oversized Gunships. Their protective escort
of fighters were unable to aid them, as they had their hands full fighting off
the Kreeghor's elite pilots.
A gambling man would have bet every penny he had that
the Alliance Dreadnought was doomed. The chances of
a rescue attempt getting through that massed firepower
was astronomical, the likelihood of it succeeding even less so.
But the Untamed Stallion had a nasty habit of beating the odds.
~~~~~~~~
-Into the Breach
"Black Eagles are reloaded and ready to go.
Just give them the word, Commander."
"Auxillary power reestablished. Reaper Turrent back online."
"My board is green, looks like they haven't seen us yet."
"Tactical situation analysis coming in. Punching it up now."
"Engineering here, we've almost locked down the auxillery
power conduit on Deck 4. Give me another couple of minutes
and we should be have the Main Guns up and running again."
With a smooth efficiency they prepared to carry out
what most people would consider a suicide mission.
For this crew, it was just another job they had to do.
"All right people, time to earn our princely paychecks again."
~~~~~~~~~
-There's a Stick in Your Eye
"He's late."
"Take it easy, Murray.
The Alliance is paying
us enough to wait for him."
"I still don't like it, Captain."
The first mate went back to cradling his power halberd.
Over 3 meters tall, the seljuk bore an uncanny resemblence
to the predatory dinosaurs that his kind had descended
from.
Captain William Borshenko shook his head at his friend's impatience.
His shoulder length blond hair and blue eyes combined with
his Nordic features gave him the appearence of a Viking
of old. One of the more notorious Runners of the Three Galaxies,
he was also someone who could be relied on to keep his word.
"Don't worry, this'll be a piece of cake.
Just pick up one agent and their cargo
and drop them off at the nearest Freeworld
base. Simple as that."
"I still think that contract was too good to be true."
"Oh c'mon, what could possibly go wrong?"
At that exact moment an out of control hovercycle
with two panicking riders came crashing down.
The bike's underside screeched like an Argalian hyena
in labor as it bounced and skidded right towards them.
"Look out!!"
"Get outta the way!!"
The surprised captain and his first mate dived to
either side to avoid a potentially fatal collision
with this duo who were obviously insane, intoxicated,
or both.
Seeing that they weren't going to stop in time
Nicholas finally hit the emergency ejection system.
The seat, with both Nick and Katrina clinging desperately
to it, blasted straight up as a brief but powerful rocket
booster kicked in. The hovercycle, now totally out of control,
continued on for several hundred meters before smashing right
into the side of a cargo shuttle. Under normal conditions
such a hit would have done little more then leave a few
minor dents in the hull and totally obliterated the bike.
Unfortunately, *this* shuttle had been in the middle of refueling.
Even worse, it had an ion drive. Which required large quantities
of (relatively) cheap *hydrogen* fuel. And the bike rammed one
of the enormous fuel lines head on.
The resulting explosion was seen from as far as a mile away.
~~~~~~~
-Brave, Suicidal, or just plain Nuts?
They went in hard and fast.
Three Interceptors directly in the way died in plasma
fireballs, never even seeing the ship that killed them.
Without her cloaking device to hide them from hostile
sensors they had to rely on their active ECM systems
to blind the enemy's electronic eyes and ears.
It was a long shot, but it was all they had to work with.
Her own fighters stayed tight against the Stallion's flanks
as she bore down on the blockade at maximum military acceleration,
hiding their weaker radar profiles inside her sensor shadow.
Despite her attempt at stealth a pair of Gunships
spotted the corvette in time to attempt an intercept.
Before they even got into their energy range
the Stallion's Grim Reaper opened up on them.
At 10 tons, the heavily armored "Reaper" gravity mega-cannon
was the third largest weapon system mounted on the Rebel
ship. Its rate of fire was over 300 rounds per minute.
Each shell was composed of pure tritonium and was no bigger
then the average golf ball. When fired, the kinetic energy
imparted to an individual round was comparable to that of
old style atomic weapons.
The volley smashed into the two Rippers like a Hammer of God.
For those aboard the doomed vessels it
was their own little front seat to Hell.
Shields flared and died, Mega-damage alloy
screamed and buckled, and the tiny lives
aboard the ships were mercilessly blown
out of existance by the lethal bombardment.
The Untamed Stallion never slowed as she
passed the gutted remains of the Gunships.
She was after bigger game.
~~~~~~~~~
-Stick It Where the Sun Don't Shine!
"Borshenko?"
The captain gave the man an odd look.
"Speaking. Who the hell are you two lunatics?"
"I'm your ride."
Murray snorted.
"I knew it! 'Easy mission' he said, 'don't worry' he said. Hah!"
Shooting a dirty look at the gloating seljuk,
Will was quick to note the discrepency between
what he'd been told and the reality.
"We were told to expect one passenger and cargo."
Nick shrugged unapologetically.
"She's the cargo."
Now it was Sun's turn to glare at him.
"Who are you calling CARGO?"
The Rebel agent at least had the grace to look a little sheepish.
"We weren't sure what to expect earlier,
so to keep our cover we decided to book
the space for cargo rather then another
passenger."
"You are *so* dead if we get out of this alive."
Will gave Katrina an admiring look.
An established ladies man, he had
wasted no time in figuring that this
particular adventurer was cut above
the rest.
"Any preferences as to our departure time?"
"Right now would be good. We left some Imperial problems back there."
Nick jerked a thumb back in the direction he and Sun had come from.
"Bloody sodding hell!"
"Take it easy, Murray."
Borshenko tapped the communicater
attached to his shirt's collar.
"Get ready to lift off now, Auntie.
Our fare needs a quick exit."
"Trouble?"
"Probably. Better warm up the guns
while you're at it."
"Aye aye, Captain. Auntie out."
The four of them moved quickly toward the ship.
Unnoticed, a solitary figure watched
their progress from a distance.
And smiled.
~~~~~~~~~
-The Heat Is On
"Well, they know we're here."
She'd hoped that they'd be able to get closer first,
but they had to play the hand that had been dealt
to them.
"Engineering, I need those Main Guns back up now!"
"Three more minutes!"
Three minutes. Might as well have been an eternity.
Smasher class heavy cruisers had been the standard
ships of line for the Imperial Navy for almost three
hundred years. They were built to last and no slouches
in the weapons department either. Only in the last few
decades had the Empire begun to replace them with the new
Slayer class battlecruiser, the most infamous example of
which was the Dark Impaler commanded by none other then
the Untamed Stallion's nemesis "Ironclaw" Jarenz. But it
would be centuries before Smashers were fully phased out
of Imperial service, and without her heaviest weapons
available the Rebel corvette's chances against the even
dozen currently pounding away on the command ship were grim.
"Enemy Fangs incoming!"
Ayla swore softly as several squadrons of fighters
broke off from the main attack and began to close
in on them.
"We're on them, Control."
The four fighters that had been sticking close
to the corvette altered course and split into
two pairs to intercept.
"Keep it quick Meia. We don't have time to tangle it up with them."
"Rodger."
The Squadron Leader's cool voice was all business.
"You heard her ladies. Pick your targets for the
first pass and go, but remember our main targets
are the Smashers. Stick around for an engagement
and those Imps will be all over your ass.
"Dibs on the ones to the left!"
"No fair! You called dibs last time!"
"Cut the chatter! Here they come!!"
Space erupted in light and fury
as the Rebel squadron recklessly dove
into the heart of the Imperial formation.
~~~~~~~~
-Among the Living
The transition from semi-consciousness
to full awareness was almost instantaneous.
He awoke to find the pain from his injuries
almost entirely gone. Although still greatly
weakened it seemed that this Cosmoknight
would live to fight another day.
That still didn't stop him from berating
himself as he looked up at the unfamilar
ceiling.
{Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Drizzt would
have disowned me as his student twice over
if he'd seen that fiasco. Once for letting them
get the drop on me, the other for not having
a backup plan in case my first one didn't work.}
Carefully Ranma pulled himself up to a sitting position.
He winced as various parts of his body suddenly complained
about this movement. He was alive and mostly in one piece,
but obviously his body wasn't in much better condition
then that.
{Where am I?}
Ranma studied the dressings on his shoulder and chest
curiously, he had considerable (firsthand) experience
with this kind of thing and could recognize exceptional
handiwork when he saw it. Whoever had bandaged him up
had known what they were doing. Surprising, especially
since he was pretty certain that this wasn't a hospital
or a clinic.
A good thing too, as any doctor worthy of the title
wouldn't have taken long to discover several very
alarming differences between his body and that of
your average ordinary human being.
Like the fact that no normal syringe
on Earth was capable of penetrating
his skin, though there were many witnesses
of the feminine gender who could vouch
that it certainly *felt* human enough.
{What's the last thing I remember?}
Cushioning his head as he fell...
Large, nicely tanned and ever so soft...
{...Breasts?! That can't be right! Can it?}
"Oh! You're awake."
The other voice came as a complete surprise.
{Gah!?}
Ranma turned and found himself staring
into the eyes of one of the most beautiful
women he had ever seen. How had she managed
to sneak up on him like that?!
"We were worried for awhile, your injuries were quite severe."
"Ah..."
For some reason this woman reminded him of Kasumi.
But despite her incredible beauty, he did not feel
the same sharp hunger that Sailor Pluto had aroused within
him. This woman possessed a powerful sense of presence
that literally took his breath away. It was like being
wrapped in a soft down comforter by a cheery fire,
warm and soothing. For some reason he was reminded
of his mother.
"Oh, I've forgotten to introduce myself.
My name is Belldandy. Welcome to our home."
He was abruptly reminded by her introduction
of other, more ancient codes of conduct.
Her rendering of aid had placed him in
obligation to her.
"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."
And he was a man who always repaid his debts.
"I suspect that I owe you my life, Belldandy-dono."(1)
He was surprised when she blushed at the honorific.
"Please, just Belldandy is fine."
"As you wish...Belldandy. I am in your debt."
She shook her head in polite negation.
"You don't owe me anything, Ranma.
Being able to save a life is reward enough."
Such gentle honesty was rare, even among those he called friends
and allies. This kind of innate purity helped keep his
faith in humanity and the other "civilized" races alive.
But a promise was a promise was a promise.
"Never the less, if there is anything within
my power to do for you, you need only ask."
His voice, while still softly polite,
was also solid with honest determination.
Seeing no other recourse, Belldandy accepted with a polite nod.
She was rewarded by a slight relaxation in his features,
and the return of the curiosity in his eyes that she had
seen when he first turned to look at her.
"Is it uncomfortable?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your suit, it looks broken."
Ranma looked down at himself.
{I forgot all about that!}
"Thank you for reminding me, that completely slipped my mind."
He concentrated on his armor.
The dark material flashed and suddenly became
a thousand shining silver motes of light that
softly descended all around him and evaporated
before they ever touched the floor.
In its place was revealed the pig tailed hero,
wearing the same clothes that he'd had on earlier
before transforming into his Cosmic form.
He gave the goddess an innocent look.
"Is this better?"
"Oh my, yes."
Not that his attire was out of the way,
Ranma's curiosity had returned.
"So what's a nice goddess like you doing in Japan?"
Her face brightened.
"Well you see, it all started three years ago when I visited Keiichi..."
Belldandy started pouring the tea that she had brought
into two cups without ever interrupting her story.
Ranma smiled back as he took one. It smelled wonderful.
He started to make himself as comfortable as he could
under the circumstances. This was probably going to
take a little while.
~~~~~~~
-Where there's smoke...
Their fighters had managed to disrupt most of
the Fangs, causing more confusion in their ranks
then actual damage. A few of them actually managed
to make it to the Untamed Stallion where they were
greeted by a barrage of short range missiles from
her launchers and a mixed assortment of lasers and
particle beams from the remaining armored turrents
scattered across the ship's hull.
Fewer still survived the encounter intact,
and none of the fleeing survivers were eager
to come to grips with the deadly Rebel ship
any time soon.
That fact did not go unnoticed by the rest of the Imperials.
Finally they realized the threat that was rapidly approaching
their positions and reacted.
"We're being hit with active radar pulses!"
Alarms started blaring from Sammy's console.
"They've got missile lock!!"
The tactical map that was projected onto the main screen
showed numerous electronic yellow triangles circled in
blinking red making their way toward the blue dot representing
their ship. Probable tractories and assignment of threat
priorities flashed rapidly and danced across the screen
as the ship's sensors fed the main tactical computer a
constant stream of updates.
It was only a ranging volley, the distance was
still long even for capital ship missiles.
But the total number of warheads launched
was still more then enough for the Stallion's
crew to take them seriously.
"Engage countermeasures!"
Dozens of counter-missiles raced out to engage
and destroy the approaching warheads. Upon
reaching a preset distance from the ship the
larger ones detonated and blossomed into a
sea of thermo-nuclear flame.
Missiles died by the score as they were consumed
in the hearts of miniature suns, others that passed
through did so blindly, their electronic brains
fried by EMP. (2)
Smaller counter-missiles went directly for
their targets, burning out their drives to
reach short term accelerations that exceeded
even the full thrust of capital ship missiles.
Their warheads contained only a fraction of
the destructive power that their larger brothers
possessed. Yet that was more then enough
to not only destroy the missiles they hit,
but also detonate *their* much more destructive
warheads too. More often then not, the blasts
took out other missiles nearby, resulting in
the domino effect of missile fratricide.
As the remainder of the swarm closed,
a hail of railgun rounds swept out from
rapid firing armored mounts scattered across
the ship, tearing apart anything that got in
their way.
The barrage killed more of the warheads,
but the harried survivers stubbornly
continued on.
The Stallion's Defense Grid was waiting for them.
Forty eight computer controlled point defense
lasers emitted rods of solid light in a dazzling
protective blue web of such mathmatical complexity
that the effect was as beautiful as it was lethal.
The last warhead died barely fifty meters from the corvette's hull.
And then it was their turn.
The Rebel ship's replying volley was comprised entirely
of spoofers and jammers, every electronic warfare bird
remaining in her arsenal was launched in a single flight.
The effect was simply devastating.
Imperial targeting systems were flooded with not thousands,
but *millions* of false targets. Sensor consoles crashed
from the influx of impossible data being fed to them.
Missile fire controls burned out from the sheer power
of the ECM being thrown at them.
It bought the Stallion precious time as the enemy scrambled
to bring their systems back on line. The rain of missiles being
launched at them died down to scattered individual launches
that were easily picked off by the corvette's anti-missile
defenses.
And then over the intercom came the sweetest
words that the Commander had ever heard from
the chief engineer.
"Main Guns Operational!"
The nearest cruiser had just begun to turn
in order to bring its devastating Energy Lance
to bear on them. One of the great flaws of
earlier Imperial designs were that while powerful,
most of their heavy beam weapons were mounted
on fixed positions. This allowed them to throw
a considerable amount of firepower forward,
but it also limited their weapons' arc of fire
to a narrow cone in front of the ship.
Normally this wouldn't have mattered against
any ship lighter then a heavy cruiser, since
even factoring in the approaching Rebel ship's
incredible acceleration the Smasher would still be
able to complete its turn and open fire while remaining
well outside the range of the medium laser cannons that
comprised her primary batteries.
But this time, arrogance cost the Kreeghor dearly.
On the main screen a blue targeting icon
bracketed the Smasher and went red as it
acquired a firing solution.
"Kill that cruiser!!"
~~~~~~~~
-The Lady *IS* the Tiger
"Hey sis, is that guy awake ye-HELLO NURSE!!"
Urd stared.
She couldn't help it.
She'd thought-er-she'd *hoped* that their patient
would turn out to be at least easy on the eyes.
Her earlier assumptions had been all wrong.
This guy wasn't cute at all.
He was absolutely Gorgeous!
{I want to make him mine!}
"Oh Urd, this is Ranma. Ranma, my older sister Urd."
"Hi."
The Cosmoknight recognized her as the one he'd had to carry
around (which he *really* hoped she'd forgotten about by now).
Then he noticed that she was just staring at him
with a predatory intensity while scarlet bloomed
in her cheeks.
He sweatdropped
{Okay, *now* I'm worried.}
~~~~~~~~
-Speak softly and carry a...
Oversized.
Ugly.
Slow.
Power sinkholes.
Impractical.
A waste of money.
Impossible.
Every person who'd first heard of what
the Captain had planned to do had told
him some or all of the above.
Even Silvia, who was obsessed with almost every type of
technological gadget imaginable, had told Captain Saotome
that he was "Outta u're bleedin no'ggin to ins'all thee'
monstrosities!"
What they had been talking about was the
refit of the Untamed Stallion's main guns.
Ranma had ordered the original Beta VII medium
laser cannons pulled out and replaced them with
a pair of Mark II Heavy Particle Beam Cannons.
Super Dreadnought Class weapons whose design
had been retired from active service in every
modern fleet of the Three Galaxies for over
six hundred years.
Each cannon was 100 meters long, almost a third
the length of the ship itself. Mounted on two
enormous armored structural pylons like the
ends of a giant tuning fork, they *were* the
front of the ship.
As a result of their size their firing arc was
restricted, although nowhere near as limited as an
Imperial Horn Cannon, to a 40 degree cone centered
on the front of the ship.
And then there were the power requirements.
The energy required to fire these monsters
was almost 40% of the Untamed Stallion' total
power output in *addition* to what their
own internal generators produced. It also took
27.741 seconds for the giant capacitators in
the cannons to build up the required charge for
each shot, and 1.865 seconds to cool the
firing chambers afterwards so that the blasts
wouldn't melt the cannons themselves, thus
limiting their rate of fire to no more then
one blast every 30 seconds.
In an age where miniaturization had reduced the
average size of capital ship's energy mounts to
two tons or less and given them an average firing
cycle of 3-7 seconds, they were antiques.
Obsolete pieces of junk that should have been scrapped long ago.
At least to everyone but Captain Saotome.
Because he had recognized the one thing that made up for it all.
For all their flaws, despite all the headaches
they brought, the Mark II's were reputed to be
the biggest, nastiest sons of bitches ever built
for a ship of the line. Nothing less then a battlecruiser
had the armor or the shields to survive a direct hit
from one of those cannons, let alone two. Their
effective range was also over ten times that of
an Imperial Energy Lance, giving the Stallion a
degree of fire superiority unmatched by any existing
light or medium class warship within the Three Galaxies.
And once again they proved their worth.
~~~~~~
The only warning was a hellish white glare
that flashed out from the front of the corvette.
Then two super-energized particle streams raced
out from the ship at the speed of light. No sooner
had they left then their preprogrammed vectors collided
and *merged* into a brilliant wave of pure annihilation.
For a ten thousandth of a second
the beam connected the two distant
vessels to each other.
Then the Smasher's far side bulged outward and vaporized
as the heavy particle beam passed through and out,
eating through forcefields and armor as though they
were so much cotton candy. There were no explosions at first,
every solid object directly in the beam's path had been
completely disintergrated.
Atmosphere rushed out through the giant holes in the cruiser's sides
as decompression set in. Omnisteel bulkheads collapsed inwards
like broken eggshells, crushing anything unfortunate enough to
get in the way.
Emergency systems struggled in vain to contain the damage.
Pressure locks slammed shut, but for much of the destruction
there simply wasn't anything left to close, and several decks
gave way as the pressure loss exceeded their structural capacity.
Inside one of those decks was the cruiser's armory,
which housed scores of capital ship missiles.
~~~~~~~~~
Captain Kazorh Darkshar of the Imperial Cruiser 'Smite'
witnessed with a mixture of horror and disbelief as
his ship's division mate 'Brawler' blew up in a frenzied
orgy of self destruction. Stored anti-matter warheads
detonated like a chain of dominos inside the cruiser's guts,
each fresh explosion triggering dozens more that reduced
the warship to white hot plasma in the space of two heartbeats.
{What in the Seven Hells was THAT?! It couldn't have
come from that ship! A corvette isn't supposed to
mount that kind of firepower!!}
"Sir, we're picking up a binary theta radiation
signature in that ship's drive emissions."
The sensor operator's face was deathly pale.
Darkshar suspected it had turned almost
as white as his own had upon hearing
the report.
{Emperor's Black Bones!}
There was only one FTL drive in the entire
Three Galaxies that had a binary theta emission.
{The Untamed Stallion! That's the UNTAMED STALLION!!}
He'd had the standard briefing of course,
every officer in the Imperial Navy knew about
Captain Saotome and his unusual vessel.
An experimental corvette stolen before it could
be delivered to the Empire. Nearly destroyed
during the Battle of Belicorn, then rebuilt
to the size of a light cruiser. The drive field
used a proto-gravitronic conversion array that
was 35% more efficent then anything either
the Empire or the Consortium currently had,
but also leaked trace amounts of quasi-quantum quarks
as a side effect of the mass-energy conservation
transfer.
There had always been numerous rumors floating around in
the Empire for years that the Untamed Stallion carried
something *extra* in the way of armament. Especially
given its kill ratio of destroyers and other light
warship classes that commonly served as escorts for
the transports and cargo ships which were a pirate's
favorite prey. But due to a deciding lack of surviving
first hand witnesses, that had never been accurately
confirmed through offical channels.
{Well now we know for sure,
for all the good that it does now!}
The Smite's captain was many things.
But dumb wasn't one of them.
"Pull the ship back! Do it now!!"
"Yes sir!"
The Smasher angled sharply up and away,
desperately putting distance between itself
and the Rebel ship in an attempt to get out
of the reach of its longer ranged cannons.
The Stallion's ECM bombardment had proved hellishly
effective against their standardized systems,
degrading missile fire control to such an extent
that they couldn't achieve the coordination
necessary to saturate the corvette's point defense.
Until they could reestablish their datalinks
the only way they could currently engage that
ship would be from within the *Stallion's*
energy envelope.
And with that kind of firepower advantage,
trying to close to beam range now would be
an act of suicide.
{But once we get our launchers back up,
then it'll be *their* turn to burn.}
A ship that size couldn't mount more then one
or two capital missile launchers at best,
and missile ranges were much longer then
that of even the most powerful energy weapon.
Captain Kazorh nodded to himself.
The initial panic had passed,
and his customary cool logic
reasserted itself.
{It managed to get the drop on us, but is still only one ship.
We're going to get hurt, but time is on our side.
Once our systems are back up we'll be able to throw enough missiles
that not even their defenses will be able to stop them all.}
They weren't beat yet, not by a long shot.
~~~~~~
"How long till the Main Guns recharge?"
Their desperate gambit had worked
better then Ayla had dared hope.
"Sixteen seconds to go."
They were now almost in range of the
Hopebringer and had taken only one
hit so far in return for their progress.
A lucky warhead fired wildly from one
of the Berserkers had been missed by
their defenses. But that had been
the only one that got through and
their shields had held firm against
the blast.
But it wouldn't last.
The Commander understood the fundamental weakness
of their position. Although they had managed to
disrupt the main group attacking the Command Ship,
whoever was in charge of those cruisers knew what
they were doing.
The Imps were moving outward to englobe the Stallion,
reducing the number of potential targets for the heavy
particle beam cannons. Although more manueverable then
the Smashers, the corvette's current acceleration reduced
its ability to change its heading by any significant margin.
Once the Imperials got their missiles back
their spread out formation would catch
the Stallion in a crossfire. That would
force them to divide their point defense,
lowering accuracy and volume coverage.
And the next round would be no mere ranging volley.
"Engage the Berserkers with missiles.
And if you manage acquire a torpedo lock
on any of those cruisers, take the shot."
"With pleasure!"
The helmswoman's fingers danced across the controls.
Two capital launchers went to constant rapid fire,
sending 48 missiles per minute scorching in on the
Imperial war frigates.
At the same time the Stallion's sensors focused
on one of the closest enemy cruisers and began
the laborious task of decrypting the energy
frequency of the forcefield shielding her target.
~~~~~~
-A Life for a Life
"So you see, it was all Mara's fault."
Urd continued to devour their guest with
her eyes even after she had finished her
story of the earlier events.
"Mara?"
"A Demoness First Class."
Something dangerous flashed in Ranma's eyes,
but he gave no other outward reaction upon
hearing that interesting tidbit of information.
"She likes to cause us trouble every now and then.
But I truly believe that she possesses a good heart
underneath it all."
Ranma was nothing short of astonished to hear
a *goddess* of all people defending a demon.
But looking into Belldandy's eyes, the Knight
found himself starting to understand her.
{She really cares about this Mara. Her words come straight from her heart.}
And yet...
{I can't let a demoness run loose. She has to be dealt with,
one way or another. The current situation is unstable enough
already. I don't need this to worry about too. Hell and damnation!!
Why couldn't I have gotten a "head's up" from the Forge *before*
getting into this mess!!}
Something from his conflicting thoughts must have shown on his face,
because suddenly Belldandy turned toward him with a serious expression
on her face.
"You won't hurt her, will you?"
He couldn't meet her gaze.
"Please."
Urd watched with some concern as she saw
her younger sister's eyes start to shimmer.
A tearful Belldandy always gave her a panicky
sensation in the pit of her stomach.
It had a similar effect on the Cosmoknight.
With a small sigh of defeat, he conceded.
"As you wish, Belldandy. I won't harm this Mara, you have my word on it."
"Thank you."
Ranma met her smile with a sheepish look.
{Just the hint of tears and I fall apart. Damn, I'm pathetic.}
Ishtar was just going to *love* this when she found out.
Speaking of which, wasn't he forgetting something?
{Uh oh!}
~~~~~~
-Countdown
{We're running out of time.}
The numbers scrolled coldly down
the readout of her seat's left arm.
They'd killed two more cruisers so far,
with another one so badly damaged that
it was limping away from the engagement.
But that still left eight Smashers
with the fourteen surviving Berserkers
and four regrouped squadrons of Fangs in support.
And the battle computer's best projection
gave them only a few more minutes before
the Imps restored their tactical networks.
Which would leave them with the worst
of both worlds. Still too far away to support
the flagship, but easy meat for the ships
surrounding them.
"Meia and the others are making their runs."
Ayla turned her head back towards the main screen.
{Damn it all! There has to be something else
we can do to keep up the pressure!}
~~~~~~~
-Departure
"Are you sure that you won't spend the night?
It wouldn't be any trouble at all."
"Yes, we've got *plenty* of space in *my* room."
The darkly tanned goddess was starting to make him nervous.
Urd's behavior reminded him far too much of certain brassy
crewmembers from the Untamed Stallion. What was it with
women and their weird obsession with sex anyway?
"Thanks, but no thank you. I've already imposed enough."
{Not to mention that the Tendos and my father
are probably wondering where the heck I am right
now. Hopefully I'll be able to think of something
before I get back.}
Before he left the temple, Ranma pressed
a small token into Belldandy's hands.
"If you ever need my help, just call and I'll be there."
The goddess nodded in understanding.
"You will always be welcome here.
Please be sure to visit us again."
"Yes, I'd like that. Until next time then."
He turned and walked away from the old temple.
In mere moments the young man disappeared into
the darkening streets.
"Do you think he'll really come back?
Urd looked slightly down, she missed him already.
"Yes. And I suspect it will be sooner then we think."
Belldandy went back inside to get dinner ready.
But her older sister stayed outside, watching and wondering.
~~~~~~~
-The Need for Speed
"Make these count, people."
Meia and her wing(wo)man started closing
to attack range of their target, weaving
in a tight spiral to avoid anti-fighter
fire from their target's gravity rail guns.
"Rodger that."
Yukio took the lead as the Katanas split
up to go after their own individual cruisers.
Unlike the Eagles, their fighters were carrying
enough capital missiles to make their own
seperate attack runs.
The screen of Intercepters was already
too far out to stop them. That just left
the anti-fighter turrets and mini-missile
launchers to watch out for. It was really
a pity, since the twins would have enjoyed
the added challenge.
{Oh well, we'll make do.}
Giggling like a schoolgirl the Turbojockey
watched the distance between herself
and her target evaporate like smoke
as she dived for the kill.
50 miles.
The twin thrills of speed and the accompanying danger
were what she and her sister lived for. In fact,
those had been the *only* things they'd used to live
for before being recruited aboard the Untamed Stallion.
40 miles.
Now the twins had two loves in life. Flying and Ranma.
And since one wasn't available right now,
they would make do with the other until
they could get their hands on him again.
30 miles.
A flick of a switch armed the warheads.
She was carrying a full load of FCAMs
with heavy anti-matter payloads.(3)
The Imps weren't going to enjoy this one bit.
20 miles.
The cruiser was already dead in her sights,
but Yukio's Katana continued to close.
She already had an iron solid lock,
but she wasn't about to give this
bastard any chance to intercept.
10 miles.
That meant a zero range launch.
With less then .1 seconds for point defense
to track, lock on, and fire, the possibility
of stopping her missiles would be
"a snowflake's chance in hell."
5 miles.
The range continued to fall.
{Almost there.}
2 mi-
"Missiles away!"
Four FCAMs belched from the Katana's internal racks
and smashed into the Smasher's shield in the blink
of an eye. The explosion blew through the energy barrier
like a sledgehammer striking glass, but its destruction
weakened the blast that actually hit the ship itself.
Armor slagged and twisted, yet the total damage was minor.
But that was okay.
Because Yukio had a little surprise for them.
"Burn baby, burn!"
From her weapon pods came four more FCAMs,
and this time there were no shields to stop
them.
~~~~~~~
-There Is No Cow Level
The range had closed enough for the ship's
six long range launchers to add to the fray.
Dozens of third generation anti-matter warheads
smashed against shields and armor as the pitful
point defense of the frigates were overwhelmed.
The Berserkers were missile ships, with powerful
launchers but relatively few other weapons.
One died. Then another.
But it still wasn't enough.
The fighters had turned more three cruisers
into air bleeding wrecks, but the Intercepters
had closed up behind them and were now directly
between them and the corvette. Tied up in dogfights,
Meia and the others wouldn't get back in time
to make any difference.
And the Berserkers were starting to shoot back.
They still couldn't coordinate their attacks,
but each frigate could put out four 20 missile
volleys a minute. With a dozen of them still
operational,the corvette's anti-missile defenses
worked overtime to keep the valiant vessel alive.
Only the fact that the Imps couldn't synchronize
their fire together gave the Stallion any chance
at all.
And despite their best efforts
a few still managed to get through.
They died against the shields, but each hit weakened
the corvette's energy barrier a little more.
{It's not over yet!}
"Navigation, how long till we reach the command ship?"
"We'll enter effective support range in eighty seconds."
An alert began flashing on the main screen.
-Warning-
-ECM field has expired.-
-Enemy Datanets now active.-
{Damn it all, not now! ...Wait a sec, what's that?!}
~~~~~~~
"Missile targeting is back online, Captain."
"Good work, commander. All missile bays,
lock on to the Untamed Stallion."
The other remaining cruisers and their
escorts were already turning their launchers
toward the corvette. Darkshar settled back
into his command chair and prepared to watch
the Rebel ship die.
"Fi-"
"Enemy missiles incoming!!"
"WHAT?!"
~~~~~~~
"Look at those birds go!!"
The whoop of victory came from the communications officer,
but just this once Ayla decided to let it slide in light
of the reason for her behavior.
The entire bridge crew's eyes were fixed on the main
screen where over eighty fighters led the way for
three battleships and a pair of starcruisers.
The outnumbered Fangs began to flee,
but the Stallion's fighters now took
a savage toll on the Imps as they
turned to run.
Even as the crew watched the comm crackled
and a voice from the approaching strikeforce
started coming over the speakers.
"This is Captain Dominic of the Tempest.
Thanks for punching us a hole, Stallion.
But those cruisers seem to have you a bit
outnumbered. Break off, you've done your job.
Now let us do ours."
The starcruisers' heavy missile batteries pounded
relentlessly on the Smashers while the battleships
turned their own mixed assortment of missile
and energy batteries on the Berserkers.
"You heard him, people. Time to move it or lose it!"
The Stallion veered sharply to the left,
putting distance between itself and the carnage
taking place. Her main guns took out another
Berserker as she swerved, and then it was the
Hopebringer's turn.
The superdreadnought used its brief reprieve
to go back on the offensive, pouring a hurricane
of fire from its surviving weapon systems into
the surrounding enemy vessels, and ship after
ship blew up. Even as they died, the flagship's
main engines began moving her clear of the Imperial
blockade.
"This is Admiral Iblis. Good work, Stallion."
"Thank you, Admiral."
The commander suspected that her satisfied
smile was being duplicated all over the ship.
{We did it!}
"Now prepare to retreat."
"Retreat?!"
Startled, Ayla turned back toward the main screen
and punched in a request for an update on the battle.
She had been so busy worrying about how they were
going help the flagship that she hadn't been paying
much attention to the status of the rest of the Rebel fleet.
The resulting display was far worse
then she could have possibly imagined.
"Mother of the First Ones..."
Earlier the fight had been on the verge of catastrophe,
now it was a complete disaster. The Rebels were down to
barely three quarters of the capital ships that they'd
brought into the system, and their losses among the
fighters and escorts had been even worse. Even now,
most of the surviving ships were being driven into
a last ditch defensive cluster that would last only
as long as their remaining fighters could keep the
swarms of Fang Intercepters off their flanks.
Even as she watched, fresh scarlet icons appeared
on the monitor as yet another pair of dreadnoughts
jumped into the system to join the sixty already
hammering away at the Rebel fleet.
That was bad enough, aside from the flagship
the heaviest unit class they'd brought were only
battleships, and they only had forty of them
left now. But the Imps *also* had a solid wedge
of five superdreadnoughts supported by a full
screen of lighter units, and the Rebels didn't
have anything which could possibly stop them.
It wasn't possible, it went against every existing
Imperial doctrine, but they bastards had finally done it.
The Empire had finally intergrated their heaviest ships
of the wall with the rest of the Imperial Fleet.
Always before the reigning emperors had been too
paranoid about putting that kind of firepower
in *any* admiral's hands, but the new Emperor
had somehow found a flag officer they could rely on.
And those five ships were the hammer that was
going to smash the Rebels against the anvil of
the dreadnoughts and the rest of the Imperial
fleet.
"All ships, this is the Flag. Prepare to withdraw from the system."
With a sense of numb horror, Ayla realized
that the only chance the Fleet now had was to try
and outrun the trap before it closed shut
around them. And the only way they could
do it was for the more expendable ships to drop
back and play rearguard in order to buy the slower
capital units the time they needed to break off
and clear the hyperlimit.(4)
"Carriers and transports are first priority.
All other remaining units fall back to hold
off the enemy."
Even as Admiral Iblis's orders went out,
a small part of Ayla's mind idly wondered
how many of them were going to survive
the coming gauntlet.
~~~~~~~~~
-Busted
Ranma gingerly held the intelligent sword at arm's length.
[R-A-N-M-A ! ! !]
The martial artist cringed on the roof he was currently perched on.
Ishtar was *PISSED*!
He would rather fight hordes of bloodthirsty monsters
any day then have to face the goddess's spirit when
she was angry. Less pain and suffering that way.
{Er...would it help if I said I'm sorry?}
[NO!!]
{Oh.}
So much for that idea.
[DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I WAS?! I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT HAVE DIED!!!}
At times like this Ranma wished that the bond
between himself and the rune weapon was not so
"intense". He could literally experience her
honest concern, the fear and anguish that her
outraged front hid, and it made him feel even
worse. Worse, he knew that she knew that he was
picking up her emotions.
Guilt was not something that Ranma knew how to deal with very well.
{Ishtar.}
So he did the very first thing that came to mind.
[What are you doing?!]
He expanded the link between them, embracing her with his presence.
The thin line between his consciousness and hers blurred and through
their connection he tried to reassure her at the most basic level.
[Ran-ma?!]
The sudden unexpectedness of it caught her off guard. Ishtar was swept away
in the sudden influx of her owner's innermost thoughts and feelings.
Normally it was only while he slept that Ranma revealed this side
of himself to her. Even in battle he reserved something back when
they joined together to fight. For some reason that not even Ishtar
had been able to figure out during their partnership, Ranma seemed
to always be trying to keep a part of himself at a distance emotionally
from other people. She suspected that it had something to do with that
strange mental block deep within his mind. It bothered her that there
seemed to be a gap in his memories, an empty hole from shortly before
they had met that she suspected might hold the answers to her dear but
often confusing Cosmoknight. But Ranma had always avoided the subject
whenever she'd brought it up and although she was curious, she would never
attempt to violate his consciousness by trying to find out without his permission.
And yet now he was letting her inside of him, letting her feel his
genuine remorse and his reaffirmation of the promise he had made
with Ishtar.
[{Together.
The bond that marked them both.
She was his and he was hers.
Always touching, never apart.
Yin to Yang, an elemental joining that only death could sever.}]
She clung to his mental presence with a strength born of uncounted
millenia of loneliness, seizing the comfort and reassurance his soul
offered and almost crying with relief that he was really here,
that she wasn't alone again.
{Ah?! Ahh!! Please don't cry! Ack!}
For Ranma, the sensations coming from the sword were
practically the same thing as if she'd actually started
crying in his arms. And if there was one thing that *really*
sent him into a panic, a crying female was it.
[Dummy. You big dummy.]
She couldn't seem to stop herself, the relief after
that long awful suspense of not knowing was too great.
Her bottled up emotions needed release, and so Ishtar
wept tears of thought while her owner awkwardly held her
and absorbed the tempest of her feelings as they swept
through him.
Ranma's sense of time faded as he rode out the storm,
but he eventually sensed a shift in the turbulance of
his partner's spirit.
{Ah...Are you alright now?}
The rune weapon glowed softly.
[Just hold me a little while longer.]
{Okay.}
-To be continued...
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
1) -dono: an honorific attached to the end of a person's name similar to -san and -chan.
But it is more formal and indicative of considerable respect, also used a lot by
a certain red headed rurouni...:P
2) EMP: ElectroMagnetic Pulse; a burst of electromagnetic energy normally produced by a nuclear reaction
that is infamous for frying electronic circuits.
3) Fighter Capital Assault Missile (FCAM): Big missiles equipped with heavy antimatter warheads,
the preferred weapon of choice for fighters to use
against larger warships. The main problem with them
is that their size limits the amount that can be carried
by the fighter, 2-6 is a standard payload. Not effective
against small targets like fighters or power armor.
4) Hyperlimit: The gravitational boundary surrounding a planet/star
within which no ship can go into hyperspace (faster then light).
Attempting to do so is a fast way to commit suicide,
since FTL drives tend to blow up when used inside the
hyperlimit. Ships also tend to lose against planetary
bodies when they collide since planets and stars are
bigger and more massive then they are. Size *does* matter. :P
