Warrior Class
By Ozzallos

VI.

The groans of pain and suffering were the predominant sounds of an atmosphere consisting of antiseptic and lingering death. Ranma Saotome made her way through that world with slow deliberation, simultaneously wishing she didn't have to while scanning the occupied cots for the Amazon elder's great granddaughter. She had been on the front lines according to the Old Gh- Elder Cologne, Ranma mentally corrected herself in light of the situation. The old woman deserves that respect, at least, especially after this. Shampoo had been right in the thick of the action and had taken a critical hit according to her account.

'Looks like everybody took a critical hit,' The redhead noted solemnly as she passed row after row of injured. Most were bandaged to some degree while the worst had puddles of smeared blood around their cots. They were the amputees or those with grave injury. Amazons. Peoples Army. Musk. Even a scarce few Pheonix. No portion of their forces went unrepresented within the makeshift field hospital she now walked. Her footsteps carried her through something wet and she studiously ignored the liquid-something she had stepped through lest it be more than just mud or water. This particular tent turned up no lavender haired Amazon, however.

One down, four more to go.

It was within the third medical tent that Ranma found the girl lying all but inert on a ragged cot similar to all the other ragged cots she had passed looking for Shampoo. 'Arms and legs, check,' the martial artist appraised morbidly as she approached, though the white gauze bandage woven around her cranium was far from a good sign. Bad things came from head injuries. Experience had taught that much, but the details told another story as she circled around the unconscious girl holding herself in a fetal position.

The bandage indeed tracked around her head, but was centered around the left eye. The thin red line of an open skin cut nearly three centimeters down the cheek. The right eye had been mercifully spared, but the left...

'...Gone,' Ranma judged, based on the ruddy brown discoloration of the gauze itself. Another wellspring of regret stabbed through the martial artist as she watched the Amazon breath, her entire body twitching every now and then. Seeing her injured... surrounded by the infirmed... Only hours removed from the battlefield herself... The redhead suddenly felt so very tired and sank to her knees, leaning against the cot where she sat silently for several long moments

"Sorry I wasn't there, Shampoo," Ranma whispered to the air, slouching into the side of the cot as guilt washed in like a tide once more. Akane had gotten out with her old man. Shampoo? "Didn't have much a choice, didja?"

Unlike Akane or her father, Shampoo had everything to lose. Friends. Family. Home. Sure she could have theoretically picked up and ran, but... her head rolled to get a closer glimpse of the wound that would eventually become one hell of a battle scar.

"Damn that had to hurt." Ranma whispered to nobody in particular.

"Is so." The response cause Ranma to fully twist around in surprise to find the slightest smile on Shampoo's lips even though her single visible eye remained closed. It fluttered open a moment later, acquiring Ranma lethargically. "Like hot iron in brain."

The redhead winced at the description, but nodded, simply relieved to see the Amazon conscious. "Gotta admit it looks like shit. Old Grandma's worried about ya too."

"Will be fine," The lavender haired girl murmured, letting her single eye flutter closed. Still, she continued to converse. "Airen only come for Great grandmother?"

"Yeah, old bat threatened to beat me with that stick of hers," Ranma simply rolled her eyes, making light of the loaded question. The martial artist chuckled at the very thought. "I mean, how old is that damn thing anyway?"

The sightless Amazon smiled to herself, her question answered in characteristic Saotome fashion. Even so, she addressed the largely rhetorical question if only to keep the conversation light. "Tribe heirloom. Is old-old."

"Must be why it hurts so damn much," Ranma snorted softly and Shampoo allowed the chocolate brown eye to float open once more. Both studied the other, but it was shampoo that broke their companionable silence first.

"Last heard Airen division not do so well?" She wondered, to which Ranma merely nodded.

"Got our asses handed to us," The redhead stated simply, not bothering with the details. It was, after all, the theme of every last encounter with the horde thus far. Survivor's remorse flooded back in like an ocean tide. She tried to work her own thoughts out but completely failed in the attempt. "I... they all... we..."

A light touch on her shoulder halted the increasingly incoherent babble. Ranma turned to find the single eye solidly fixed on her. Shampoo gave her a solemn, knowing nod. "Shampoo know. Same. Mousse... Not make it."

The martial artist's mouth opened once more then closed it, responding with her own subdued nod. It took several long moments for the redhead to compose her thoughts through the tempest of guilt, fury and impotence they wallowed through. "I... yeah. Anything you need?"

"Airen has spare eyeball for Shampoo?"

Ranma blinked, then snickered with Shampoo's own giggle. The redhead forced a confident smirk to her face. "How about I help you carve one out of these green assholes when you get better?"

"Is deal." The produced a faded smile, then yawned. "Shampoo no seem stay awake..."

"Get some sleep," Ranma prompted, standing up for the first time since sitting initially. "I'll let granny know you're okay."

"Sound good..." The girl's statement trailed off and the eye fluttered closed. Ranma stood by for a moment to make sure the Amazon drifted safely back to sleep before turning to leave. She only made it another few rows before a hand snapped to catch her wrist. Mandarin tongue cried out for her even as she registered the contact. An Amazonian woman wretched in her cot, her face contorting with pain.

"I'm not a... a..." Ranma tried to explain to the woman but found words completely lack once she had taken a good look at the warrior. Teal hair that was once intricately braided was a blood matted frazzle now. Her Chinese silks had been ripped open at the abdomen to suture a long ten centimeter wound, while her arm...

...Her arm was gone.

Ranma's eyes widened as the woman clutched at the bandaged, bloodstained stump. The Amazonian warrior focused on her again with more intelligible Chinese. Ranma shook her head without understanding, but allowed the woman to pull her down next to her. More frantic Chinese hit her ear and this time the martial artist nodded.

"I... I don't understand a word your sayin'," Ranma replied as she knelt down next to the woman. She forced a smile regardless and took her only remaining hand into hers. "But I'll do the best I can."

Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts did the best she could for the next four hours. Three people died as she looked on. One bled out as the healers worked to save an Amazon from the massive sucking chest wound in her torso. Another simply had too much wrong in too many places. The last was a PLA soldier who had simply stopped breathing even while they were trying to converse. In the end, it was all she could do to force her own lifeless body back to the hut she had been assigned and simply drop into bed. Then the dam finally broke.

Real men didn't cry.

For once, Ranma was glad she wasn't one.

Author's Notes: More inbound.