Disclaimer: I don't own these worlds and characters - this is intended simply as entertainment and a tribute. Please don't sue.

Chapter Seven

As prison cells go, this one's not bad, thought Ryoga Hibiki as he stretched out on the bed. The bed was reasonably comfortable, and there was a proper bathroom(if only because it seemed to annoy his captors, he refused to call it a 'head.') complete with a shower in a little alcove to one side. No books, or tv, or anything like that, but he'd been alone before and it didn't get to him too badly.

He couldn't even get too mad at them for locking him up. He'd been almost completely out of it when they'd tracked him down in the forest, and he'd attacked without any real provocation. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of being experimented on to help them find the bad guys, but he couldn't protest too bitterly. It wasn't like he had anything else to do, or anywhere to go. Not until he figured out how to apologize to Akari.

It wasn't like the family house in Tokyo was much of a home, after all. Even the members of his family who weren't cursed to be forever lost tended to a terrible wanderlust. The place was barely inhabited, and his dog frequently got fed solely due to the kindness of strangers. He sighed. Enough of this moping. It won't help with Akari. How do you apologize for not being totally over another girl? Hell, how do you apologize for ranting about how that girl broke your heart to your current girlfriend?

Nothing came to him. He'd still not come up with anything that felt even remotely likely to work when they came down to grab him for another session of scrying.

Tomas Aston suppressed the urge to swear loudly as he sparred with Ranma.

He'd had a rough idea of what the martial artist was capable of, both from his file and from observations, but he hadn't realized just how bloody effortless it seemed to be for the pigtailed fighter. Aston was pushing to keep up, and Ranma barely seemed winded.

And the whoops of laughter at his predicament didn't help. Don't you lot have practice of your own to get to? He Sent to them harshly.

He could hear the laughter in Kal McLaren's reply. We're just observing for the sake of improving our own practice later, staff sergeant.

Oh, so you aren't laughing at my expense. Bloody idiots.

Hey, now, boss, Sent Dai, He was recruited by the White Devil; there's no shame in being overshadowed.

Aston snarled something incoherent and sent a spiral of magical bolts Ranma's way, jumping out of the martial artist's reach as the youth dodged. Fine then. While you're watching, why not do something useful?

Like what, boss?

Like distract the bastard for me!

Even telepathic, laughter was distinctive. Kia in particular was just finding this hilarious, damn her eyes.

"So," said Dai, in the chipper tone of someone who knew his own personal ass wasn't in the sling right now, "What can you tell us about your homeworld, Ranma? We're curious."

"Ya mean ya wanna distract me so yer boss don't get his butt kicked so bad?"

Dai and the other marines laughed. Aston spared a moment to glare at his subordinates, then returned his attention to Ranma as Dai kept talking. "Well, that was his theory. But I'll admit, I'm curious myself."

Ranma smirked, and moved, slipping close faster than he could raise a shield, sending him sprawling. "Well, I ain't much fer history. Dunno what I could really tell ya."

"Fair enough," said Kia, fiddling with one cyan braid as she watched Ranma and Aston throw each-other around the mats. "How about, how are your people taking the revelations about magic?"

"'My people,'" he snorted. "Like Japan's the whole world. The reaction in Japan is mostly 'huh, guess we shoulda known' as much as anything else – we never let getting all 'modern' make us forget all our legends. Buncha folks think it's all a joke or a lie – like we just wrecked half of Tokyo for the hell of it." He paused for a moment as Aston loosed a volley of bolts, wildly swirling around each other in a way meant to make them hard to track or dodge. The aquatransexual managed to dodge most of the volley anyway, though one of them grazed an arm. Aston figured that was a decent point for him given how slippery the bastard was.

"I know some places just flipped their shit completely when they found out. Big chunka Europe an' North America didn't like it at all, but I think I heard that most of their governments got sane an' ran with it. The Senshi mentioned something about working with some Brit group, an' I know a couple American magic types." Another shrug, the motion distinct even as he dodged inside Aston's guard again godsfuckingdamnit and sent the older man flying. "They seem decent enough, for gaijin. I gotta admit, I'm a little curious why yer' askin', other than covering Tom. I know you guys got files on us, an' you been recruiting from Earth for a while."

"All that goes into the 'need to know' bin," said Kia.

Dai nodded. "And we're just marines. Lowly spacedogs fit only to throw at a problem until we or it is gone. We don't 'need to know' anything, far as the brass is concerned."

Ranma snorted. "Figures. The guys making the calls always seem to b-WAH!" THAT finally worked, and it was Ranma's turn to sail across the gym under someone else's power as Aston finally managed to get a good one to connect. He recovered himself in midair, landing in a crouch near the bulkhead. "Nice one, man."

Aston felt himself smile. "Thanks. It felt rather good." The two locked gazes for a moment, then by unspoken agreement, straightened up from their fighting stances and headed to the sideboard and its water. "Before this trip, the only real contact this squad's had with Earthers was the White Devil, and about all she'll say about Earth is a few stories about her family and how she couldn't go into the 'family business' or something. Which is odd, since I think she said they're bakers."

In a tone of false severity, Kal said, "Cake is serious business."

"Most of what we've seen of Earth is from various television shows that got imported. So we know they're mostly bull, but they're all we've got to work with." Dai shrugged. "Still, a lot of it's entertaining stuff, and some of it has to be mostly right."

Ranma smiled as he put down a drink. "What kinda shows do you guys like?" He snorted. "Now there's a question I never thought I'd ask a guy from space."

"Some of the comedys work really well, and a lot of your science fiction is damned creative. Some documentary stuff is fascinating, of course." A shrug as Aston took another pull from his own drink. "Can't say I care much for 'reality shows.'"

"Nobody likes those."

"You'ld be surprised," said Kia ruefully. "My family's just gone nuts over a few of those. It's kinda scarey."

"It's like a road accident," said Kal. "You know you shouldn't watch, but you can't look away. I personally like some of the... well, they're almost 'reality' shows, but they're less asinine. Half-way between documentaries and reality tv, like Scrapheap Challenge or Top Gear."

"Heard of the second one," said Ranma. "I know a couple of the Senshi like it, but I don't think I've ever watched either of 'em."

Dai said, "Oh, they're worth it. Creative stuff. The Top Gear guys did one of their 'road trip' specials on Mid Childa a few months ago, actually – it was entertaining as hell."

"Oh?"

Chuckling, Dai put on a fake British accent. "As Jeremy tried and failed to charm the policewoman, the thought occurred that we probably should have taken more than five minutes to brush up on the local traffic laws."

Ranma gave him an odd look.

"Well," said Dai, back in his normal tone of voice, "That wasn't the best part, anyway." He switched back to the accent. "Of course, now that we'd acquired our local cars, we needed to see who'd managed to pick the best one. To that end, we'd made our way here: the Mid Childa Saint's Speedway. And to even out the tests, all the cars would be driven by the same driver."

Aston took over, affecting his own, deeper, British accent. "That we had. Some say that seven of her fingers are wands, and that all her eyes are made of solid orichalcum. All we know is, she's not The Stig, but she is The Stig's Magical Girl Cousin." The entire squad started chuckling at that.

"...I'm gonna guess ya hadda be there."

"You've seriously never watched the show before?"

Ranma shrugged. "I ain't a car guy. I live in Tokyo, man. I can get around way faster roof-hoppin' than I could with a car."

"You're missing out, man. You really are."

Ranma shook his head, began to chuckle. "We went from sparring to talking about Earth TV shows. I wish I could say this is the most surreal conversation I ever had."

"Stick around," said Aston. "We can be much more surreal when we want to."

The bridge was humming with energy and nerves when Ranma made his way up there, seeing a lot more people than usual. Something's up. Looking around, he spotted the bridge's status board, read it over. It had acquired some additional icons – another couple of ships had joined them. Most of the names he didn't recognize, but he spotted Pauline among them. It'd been a while, and he smiled. Glad they've made it through the war okay so far.

He spotted a knot of people near the command station, and another nearer the bow, next to the navigator's spot. The one near the bow had what looked like some complicated spell running – probably Ryoga getting scanned. Ranma made his way towards his friend.

Oh yeah, that was one complicated lattice of spells around Ryoga. Two years of working closely with some damnably clever and inventive mages, especially Setsuna and Ami, had taught him how to pick out the details of delicate spellwork. Also a few tricks that he'd been told were impossible, but all that told him was that experts in any field could get tunnel vision. He knew he'd run into that particular trap where the martial arts where concerned, though he'd gotten better at getting out of it.

He usually only had to get hurt once, these days, to start.

The fanged boy looked up from the stool he was slouching on at his approach. "Hey, Ranma."

"Hey, Ryoga." Ranma gestured at the glowing lattice surrounding him. "They're putting a lot into this."

Ryoga shrugged. "It's not what Lina and Zel used. Same sort of... tug, though." Another shrug. "Kinda wish I'd spent more time hanging around with the Senshi. Trying to figure out how this works'd be a nice distraction since none of these guys will talk to me."

Ranma blinked, swept a gaze across the gathered techs and mages. Is there a problem? He Sent.

One of the techs glanced at him. No, Enforcer Saotome. Just regulations. He's assaulted a TSAB agent.

Ranma rolled his eyes. I'm the guy he went after, an' I say it's all good. Why not treat him like a person, and not just a thing?

This is delicate work, Enforcer. Tone didn't carry well in telepathic messages, but Ranma could fairly hear the 'snif' and implied 'not that an enforcer would know anything about delicate.' He looked over the lattice of spells again. He could see at least three points where he could disrupt the entire thing with one well-placed finger. Delicate and precision work he was good at.

Well then. If it's too delicate for conversation, even with the whole bunch of you monitoring, maybe I should ask some of the officers to bring in some more help? Since it's so hard for ya.

That got their attention. The techs flinched, and the one who seemed to be in charge glared at him. He met the glare without flinching.

Just tryin' ta help.

There was some venom in that glare, Ranma'd give the tech that much. But the older man broke the glare, turned back to his work. Gaze focused on one of the junction points of the spell-lattice, he said, "So, rumor has it you've worked with the Ace of Aces before, Hibiki?"

The fanged boy blinked, and smiled. "You mean Nanoha? Just the once, really. We were fighting some nasty oni on... I can't even remember what that planet was called. Some ugly mudball with bad food and filthy cities." A shrug. "I know she showed up in the Battle of Tokyo, but we didn't cross paths."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's a big city..."

Ranma smiled, exchanged nods with Ryoga, and turned towards one of the knots of officers. There was an uneasy feeling to the conversation around him. The kind of unease that had, so very many times in his life, foretold the brown stuff hitting the fan. Of course it's complicated, he thought to himself. When is anything I get involved in ever simple?

Approaching the largest knot of officers – the one closest to the Admiral's command chair – he felt a slight mental pressure, one that he associated with lots of mages being all telepathic nearby. He was a little surprised at that, actually – the buzz of actual conversation was thick in the air as well. He waved to Captain Stevens when he spotted the older man, who blinked for a moment and mock-sighed.

"I should have known I wouldn't be shut of you."

"I'm like a bad habit, hard to get rid of." A brief pause as he looked at the display the Captain had been studying. "Gotta say, I'm glad you made it safe this far. I was a little worried about you guys."

The Captain snorted. "Pauline's managed to stay out of the fighting. We've done some scouting, but we haven't been involved in the war directly." A slight smile. "The TSAB does have more than just the Bradesons to deal with, after all."

"Heh, fair enough. So, why'd they tap ya for this fleet?"

"Wrong place at the right time. Headquarters felt Haralowan could use a few more ships in his screen, just in case, and we were convenient. We brought in a few more Enforcers as well – the situation has gotten more complex."

Oh, that ain't woryin' ta hear at all, Ranma thought. "I'm guessing the bad kind of complex?"

"Almost certainly, though we're still trying to find out the extent. The dimensional barriers are for more than just keeping dimensions apart – they keep other things out. And we're seeing signs that some of those other things are leaking in."

Ranma winced. "That sounds really bad." He looked more closely around the group, and extended his ki senses. "Huh. Those Enforcers you brought in – Nanoha and Fate?"

"Among a few others."

"Mind if I excuse myself a minute? Been a while since I talked to them."

If Nanoha Takamachi didn't know for a fact that her partner was telepathically catching up with her brother, she wouldn't have guessed. Chrono was doing an admirable job of keeping up with the conversation with half a dozen captains and Enforcers, and going over the data that Headquarters had sent along. The situation was dangerous enough to get her back on the active roster, if only because they didn't have all that many S-ranks on hand who weren't already hip deep in some other problem.

And the fact that they were sending her in as much for her power as her history of working well with most of the other officers involved meant that her limiters were fully disengaged for the duration. It had been a while, and she enjoyed the feeling. The limters themselves weren't uncomfortable per se, but extended use of them was stifling.

Though she hadn't wanted to leave her little girl behind. At the very least, little Vivio was in good hands, in the care of her 'Unca Yuuno.' She enjoyed his company, and it seemed the researcher liked to tell her silly stories – the last time she'd stayed with him, she'd returned with tales of a talking Orangutan. She'd even said she'd met the ape in question.

Glancing around the crowded bridge drew a double-take. Is that- "Hello, Ranma. The uniform suits you."

The martial artist gave his usual cocky smile. "Thanks. Good ta see ya." He exchanged nods with Fate, and smiled almost apologetically at Chrono when the Admiral gave him a short glare for butting in. Looks like yer doing okay, he Sent.

I am, more or less. No really major disasters lately, and I've been enjoying my teaching as well as the occasional mission.

The mental equivalent of a chuckle. About how I'd call my life the last few, too. An' I'm doing the sensei thing too. Amazin' how much ya can learn by teachin.' A pause. Anyway. I'm guessing that the situation's gotten bad, if they're sending you out to help.

We don't know all the details yet, but it does indeed look like the situation is deteriorating.

Can ya fill an ignorant indig in? Too much jargon in the report on the display here...

I'll do my best to simplify it. She summarized the data they'd gathered – weaknesses in the dimensional walls, and creatures breaching them, as well as what that implied and what it could lead to. For all his comment of ignorance, he seemed to grasp the shape and scope of the problem quickly, and even managed to participate in the officer skull session, much to the irritation, and chagrin, of the TSAB officers. She strongly suspected that the Senshi, especially Ami, had rubbed off on him.

Soon enough, the officer's discussion was interrupted as a report came from the scryers: they were ready to trace the breaches in the dimensional walls. Chrono dismissed the gathered captains of his Task Force; they would begin their hunt now.

Colonel Blair hadn't flown a shuttle in a damn long time, but he understood why they were using one to transfer over to Enterprise rather than, say, a Broadsword. Small as it was, they could probably have crammed Concordia's science team into one of the big bombers, though a few of them would have had to sit in the turrets. But that would have been a rather... impolite way to show up to a meeting. He hadn't been in on the first meeting with Enterprise's people, but the grapevine had most of the interesting bits: these 'Star Fleet' people were from something similar to the Terran Confederation. They were looking into the strange jump points and the things that came out of them in the name of Science, rather than security. And their ship was a vessel of scientific research and exploration.

Sure it is, he thought, as the shuttle swung around the sleek ship's aft. In the same way Concordia is just a carrier.

He wasn't totally sure why Tolwyn had tapped him to pilot this little flight. The Admiral still didn't like him much, and the feeling was mutual. He'd almost suspect it to be punishment detail, except the Admiral himself was aboard; he'd be conferring with Picard.

Worry about that later. Let's get this tub landed. He opened a comm channel. "Concordia Shuttle Two to Enterprise, requesting landing clearance."

"Enterprise to Shuttle Two, permission granted. Do you see the beacon?"

He glanced at the board. "Affirmative, Enterprise. Coming in now." Between the beacon signal and the ship's running lights, he could spot the landing bay. Eyeballing it, the shuttle would fit nicely, though he'd have to ease in. The thing, lit up by both the telltale sheen of a magcon field and internal lights, was shallow. Flying off of Concordia had spoiled him, but he was good at his job; he'd be able to land in the tiny bay, even if he had to enter on bare minimum thrusters.

As he closed on the bay, he spotted one of Enterprise's shuttles – either Fraser or one of the same class – and let himself smile. He'd been hoping for a closer look at one of those things for a while now. They were an interesting design, one that implied all sorts of things about how these people's drives worked, and if he could get a few minutes to pick the brains of one of their pilots or ground crew, he'd love it. If not, well, he could take a close look. Sparks had ambushed him en route to the shuttle, more or less demanding that he find out how the things worked for her. He meant to try – ground crew that good was worth keeping happy.

"An impressive ship," said Admiral Tolwyn from behind him.

Blair started – he hadn't heard the older man approach. "Ah, that it is, Admiral."

"You're wondering why I picked you to fly this mission."

He hadn't expected that kind of, well, frankness from the Admiral. "Ah, a bit, Sir."

"We don't know enough about these people. I'd like to remedy that. I don't know how much you enjoyed your time in Special Operations, but Taggart thinks well of your abilities in those areas."

"You want me to play spook while the scientists work and you talk to the Captain?"

"Essentially, yes." Tolwyn shrugged. "If nothing else, swapping war stories with one of their pilots should be illuminating."

"I'll do my best, Admiral." He paused for a moment, as the shuttle crossed the shimmering barrier of Enterprise's magcon field, the sudden drag slowing the little ship. "I assume you want me to be polite?"

"Of course. We are, for the moment, guests." Tolwyn frowned. "And frankly, if half of what they say about their own scientific resources is true, they're far better equipped than we are to figure this out." A pause, and he continued in low tones. "And much as it pains me to admit it, Taggart was probably right to be concerned about this. If we could use these anomalies as jump points, so can the Kilrathi. We need to shut them down."

Bad enough they just took Enigma. The last thing we want for the Cats is more strategic options. "Agreed, sir." Carefully balancing the shuttle's thrusters, he set the ship down lightly, feeling the hydraulic give in the landing struts. He let out a breath. That was about as smooth as their pilot's landing with us. I'd hate to look bad. By memory, he set about the task of powering down as the science team unloaded, followed by Tolwyn. Meeting some of Enterprise's crew, they proceeded out of the bay. The Admiral glanced back at the shuttle, met his gaze through the viewport, expression very clearly saying 'do not screw up and offend them.' He nodded.

I hope you remember that, too, boss. You can be remarkably blunt at times.

Tom Paris was rather glad he was off duty right now. A lot of the exploring, he could take or leave. But getting a look at unfamiliar ships and tech? That he enjoyed. His inner gearhead wanted a closer look at some of Concordia's toys, and his inner pilot backed it up, assuming he managed to get a closer look at one of their fighters.

The ship easing in to land next to USS Shuswap had the look of a bog standard shuttle, but it was still interesting. Looks like he's playing it careful. Wonder if that's more drive limitations or the pilot being used to a bay as big as Concordia's? A snort. I wonder if they're using a shuttle for the same reason we went over in a Runabout: to not show off the transporters. Though keeping a couple tricks in reserve probably isn't that bad an idea.

The shuttle settled on its skids and unloaded several people. Most looked like science types, though there was a more... militant? Official? Disciplined? Air about most of them that he wasn't used to in science types. Well, from what I can gather they've been locked in a full-scale war for a hell of a lot longer than we were up against the Dominion. Probably that. The group was followed by an obvious officer, who took a moment to give his pilot a Look.

Tom smiled; waited for the officer to leave the bay, and walked out of the control booth. He rounded the shuttle's corner in time to see the pilot exit, giving the shuttlebay and the Shuswap a quick glance-over. "Welcome aboard," he said. "Lieutenant Tom Paris, navigator." He extended a hand.

The stranger, a slightly older man with brown hair and a scar on his chin, gave a lopsided smile and met his handshake. "Colonel Christopher Blair. Combat pilot and occasional taxi driver."

Tom turned towards the shuttle again, examining it's worn hull. "Looked like your boss was giving you a hard time."

A shrug. "Par for the course. You know how flag officers can be."

Tom snorted, thought of his father. "Do I ever. Guess some things are universal. So what do you normally fly?"

"Depends on the mission, really. I'm qualified on just about every fighter in the Confed inventory. A Sabre more often then not, these days."

"The big delta-winged one?"

"Yeah. Yourself?"

Tom gestured broadly at the ship around them. "I drive this boat on the Alpha shift, but I prefer something nimbler, like the Runabouts or a Shuttle." A pause. Oh why not? Even if he thinks I'm bragging, it might bring out some nice stories. "Back at the Academy I was on the precision flight team, we flew some hot ships then." Too hot, for some of us... he forced the memory down with the ease of long practice.

Blair relaxed against the side of his shuttle, looking over at Shuswap. "Sounds interesting. What say we swap stories?"

"Deal."

Seven of Nine rather enjoyed working with Concordia's science team. They reacted to what she was, but only in the sense of seeing a lovely woman. Cyborgs, from what she could gather, were uncommon but hardly unknown in the Terran Confederation. They also went to work with a genuine enthusiasm that she hadn't expected at first.

"Most of the time, we're glorified engineers," explained one of them, a heavyset man with salt-and-pepper hair. "We take apart Kilrathi gear and figure out how it works. Doing actual science is a nice change of pace."

The youngest of them looked like the proverbial child in a candy store, amazed at the equipment he had a chance to work with. Though for all the limited equipment they'd had to work with on Concordia they had quite a bit of data, some of which Enterprise and Copernicus had not gathered. The perspective helped them flesh out what they knew, which would likely prove very useful.

Torchlight flickered in the Mazoku hall.

A macabre feast was the order of the day, as the hundreds of gathered Mazoku made merry. It was unusual, for theirs was a race that seldom worked well together, but the master of this hall was a notorious loner, a General and High Priest who pursued his own agenda more often than not. Many had come because they were curious about why he would suddenly summon them to a meeting. Many more had come for spectacle and free meals. And a few had come because they owed fealty to the same Mazoku lord, Greater Beast Zelas Metallium, as the Mazoku who's hall they met in.

Xelloss seldom entertained. It was almost certainly something important that caused him to do so now.

The priest judged that he'd let the conversation last long enough – it was unlikely that any more of his brethren would join them at this late stage – and stood, banging the base of his staff against the floor for silence. A spell made the crack of it striking stone carry through the entire hall, and he soon had the attentions of the gathered Mazoku.

He took a moment to survey the crowd, and ensure he had their attention. Then, "Fell tidings to you all, this night. I know you're wondering why I called you here tonight-"

From the back came a shout if "Who cares! I'm here for the food!" Xelloss smiled along with many of the gathered Mazoku.

"Well, that's fair enough. But not why I arranged this gathering." A pause, as if daring someone else to interrupt. "We have all felt, of late, disturbances in the aether. Something is drawing forth the energy of the Lord of Nightmares; pulling out of the Sea of Chaos and into this world. We have felt the shudders and pangs these have caused."

"That something is human. That something is harming our greatest Lord. And I propose... we make those responsible suffer for what they have done." He gestured, and a silent spell formed a map upon the air before him, showing the great human city of Seyruun. "This, I think, would be the best place for our first blow to fall."