Disclaimer

Macross is owned by or licensed to lots of people - Tatsunoko Studios, Harmony Gold, Studio Nue, Streamline Video...note that none of them are me.

The same can be said of Ranma 1/2 - Rumiko Takahashi, Kitty, Shonen Sunday Comics, Viz Video. Not me.

I didn't create any of them, and I certainly do not own them. Any use of them in this story is meant as nothing more than tribute. Please don't sue me.


Wednesday's Child

Nine: The Unfriendly Skies

September 9th, 2009

"Skull Eight, you've got two on your tail. Five o'clock high."

"Got it." Ranma shifted to GERWALK - reconfiguration had its own controls in the Block Two - and spun on a dime, blasting first one and then the other fighter pod with short bursts from the GU-11 cannon. He pulled the F lever and shifted back to pure jet, firewalled the engine to avoid stalling, and dove towards the next cluster.

The manoeuvre seeked to catch the aliens by surprise, and he was able to blast three more before they recovered. "Seems they didn't like that, Skull One."

"Noted. Skull team, switch between GERWALK and fighter mode; looks like it confuses them. Don't expect it to last, but let's use it while we can."

Ranma glanced towards the city. "Looks like the Macross is getting into the fight."


The thrum of the massive ship's antigravity servos shattered windows throughout Macross City. Massive struts groaned as the force on them lessened for the first time in five years, and the Macross slowly and gracefully lifted away from the ground. No arcing climb or sharp angle of attack; the enormous starship drew itself straight up, shaking the dust of its resting place from its keel.

Claudia double-checked her instruments, and nodded in satisfaction. "All gyros read zero precession; our trim bubbles show zero by zero."

"Perfect takeoff," murmured Misa. "No problems at all."

Let the gentle reader take note: There are certain words that should never be said during any significant undertaking. The first launch of Humanity's first interstellar space craft, on its maiden voyage to defend their planet from alien invaders, certainly qualifies as the latter. And Misa's unfortunate choice of words would, of course, fall into the category of the former.

A massive groan sounded throughout the ship.

"...the hell?" Claudia grabbed her console to stabilize herself. "Massive precession; my bubbles are sliding off by three degrees...four...Captain, we're listing badly!"

"My God." Misa pointed shakily out the fishbowl of the bridge port. "Captain, the hull!"

Global staggered forward, and gaped as the deckplates forward of the bridge deformed. Explosions dotted the hull as components failed. One large piece of machinery tore straight through the deckplates and hovered above them, trailing cabling and support structures, until something gave way, power was lost, and it smashed down to the deck.

"The antigravity servos...they're tearing away from the hull, instead of lifting it!" Global shook his head.

Misa managed to find her voice. "We must not have reinforced them enough...too much damage to the original hull ribbing...something or someone failed."

"Oh, this is a catastrophe."

"I've adjusted trim, Captain." Claudia had, at least, managed to maintain her calm. "We can't rise, cannot even hover, but I can put her down safely."

"Gently?"

She shook her head. "Buckle in, Sir."

Global smacked the allcall. "Crash quarters. All hands, brace for impact!"

Macross returned to the earth that it had left so briefly. The support struts were designed to hold the ship up from the ground, but were not made so toughly as to catch the ship as it crashed. They buckled under the mass, folding like so much rice paper. One kicked out from under the ship, went flying through a twenty-storey office complex before coming to rest atop a vehicle repair depot. A massive cloud of dust obscured everything within a kilometer of the impact site.

But Macross had survived a far worse crash than this. Alert klaxons sounded throughout the ship, damage control parties rushed about like ants, but the ship remained in one piece.

Global picked himself up off the deck, dusted off his uniform, and adjusted his cap. "All stations, report."

"Sensory offline," reported Shammy. "Self-test all clean, so I think it's just an alignment problem."

"Communications still up, but without sensory, we've got no long range comms."

"Tactical still online. Weapon systems responsive." Misa shook her head. "Tactical officer will be back online shortly."

Claudia scowled at her console. "Antigravity system's a write-off, Sir. Fold system reports no damage. Primary luminal thrusters online. Lift thrusters online. Attitude thrusters nominal, but damage control parties are working to improve that. Gyros scrambled."

"Primary and secondary mainframes still online." Vanessa quickly ran another diagnostic. "Thirty percent of satellite terminals are offline."

"Christ." Global shook his head. "Sixty seconds into our first flight, and we get this."

Misa glanced over her shoulder. "That's what we get for buying used, Sir."


Ranma gaped as Macross smashed into the ground. But he couldn't afford to waste any time dwelling on the disaster; Skull Team was still outnumbered six to one in the combat area. He dragged his attention away from the crash site and concentrated on waxing his next bandit. It didn't take long, and he shifted to GERWALK to spin and engage the next.

The aliens still hadn't adjusted to the Valkyrie's reconfiguration, and for that he was more than a bit grateful. He pickled off another missile - his last one - and watched the alien pod explode.

And then the aliens broke off. He watched in surprise as the fighter pods scattered to the four winds. Sixteen more were shot down by the Skulls before they outdistanced the human weaponry.

"Looks like we got 'em demoralized." Roy's voice was jubilant.


"Contacts are scattering, and pulling away from pursuit. The Valkyries can't pace them."

"No need to try," said Global.

"Major Focker on Tac, Sir."

The screen cleared, and Roy's face appeared. He had just finished unsnapping his oxygen mask. "Gunsight One, this is Skull Leader. We have met the enemy, and they are running for their miserable lives."

Claudia leaned into range of the pickup, all but shoving Misa aside. "And how many did you get, Roy?"

"Only ten this time."

"Gee, that brings you up to one hundred and eighteen." She winked at him. "Going for Ace Cubed?"

"They got a decoration for that?"

"If I may." Misa's voice was a bit frosty. "Major, we've got a problem. Vee Tee One Oh Two crash-landed in the city. He's reconfigured to Battroid Mode, but he's blundering about causing more damage than the enemy."

"Yeah, I can take care of him. Quick question, though, Lieutenant?"

"What's that?"

"Why did you order the launch of an aircraft, pulled for public display? Especially with a civilian at the controls?"

"Civilian?" Misa paled. "Oh, my God. I didn't know--"

"Why didn't you check?"

"Calm down, Roy." Claudia broke in. "Misa screwed up, and so far it's been the only screw-up we can blame on a human. And the guy's okay, so it's not even that bad." Claudia looked rather cross. "So lay off her, okay? We've had a hard day at the office."

"Okay, you win. A little respect. Got it." Roy waved it off. "I'll go pick up Hikaru." He clicked the display off before either of the two bridge officers could say another word.

"Hikaru...as in Ichigyo Hikaru?"

Claudia clucked. "Well, now you know why he was so upset."


"Skull Team, this is Skull Leader. Recover aboard Macross, get fed and watered, grab forty winks if you can get it."

"Roger. Skull Bravo, head to the barn."

"Roger."

Ranma's Flight had formed up after the scattering of the enemy forces, and the five Valkyries - Skull Nine not being much more than iron filings now - peeled off and flew back towards Macross. Ranma glanced at the tactical display. All six fighters were shown there, in a three by two grid, displaying stores and known battle damage. But Hannum's fighter was all in red, with a big X through it. He glanced up again, looking out over their formation, and saw Mark Kramer, Skull Seven, Flight Commander of Skull Bravo, off his starboard wing.

Kramer pointed to the left. Ranma glanced over, saw the other three aircraft, Skulls Ten through Twelve, to his right.

And realized that he was in the number-two space.

Traditions may be goofy. They may be silly. They might even be obsolete. But they ain't worthless.

Slowly, he pulled back on the stick, bringing his Valkyrie up and out of the V-shaped formation. The remaining fighters flew on towards base, with the one empty space in the V for Peter Hannum.


"Skull Team has recovered, except for Skull One." Misa couldn't bring herself to admit that Focker was out there cleaning up her mess. "Brown is lining up for traps now. Vermilion Team is gone. Cerulean has taken heavy damage. Eleven of their birds are gone." She paused. "Given the number of fighter pods destroyed, we did pretty good, Captain."

"Except that the enemy fielded about as many fighters for this one engagement as we have total strength in Valkyries."

"Message from COMUNPAC, Sir." Kim paused, one hand at her headset. "We are to launch and rendezvous with ARMD-02."

"Launch how?" Claudia's voice was bitter; among other things, the helms was her job. "Our antigravity servos are just plain gone, and we sure as hell can't fold there."

"PO Kabriov, patch me through to Engineering."

"Aye, Captain." She paused. "Bridge for ChEng. Okay, thank you. Hold for the Skipper." She glanced over. "ChEng on comms, Sir."

"Thank you, PO." Global picked up the handset. "Lang. What's the status of the nuclear pulse drive?"

Misa glanced back at Claudia. "You said that the luminal and lifting rockets were functional."

"Yeah, but they're meant for use out of atmosphere. We're gonna irradiate everything on this island if we use them here."

Global hung up the handset, and turned to the two officers. "Misa, plot a course for luminal drive from here to ARMD-02."

"Aye, Sir."

"Also, I have bad news." He sighed. "XO Baker is in surgery, but he's not expected to survive. You're acting XO, as of now."

"Sir, Claudia's got both rank and experience on me--"

"Lieutenant LaSalle is a ground-pounder. You're the only UN Spacy officer on this ship right now, except for Major Focker. And he's going to be too busy where he is now."

"Aye, Sir." Misa turned back to her display. "Plotting course."

"Lieutenant LaSalle, begin primary ignition on the lift engines."

"I sure hope they work," mused Misa.

"They will, Misa."

She turned, stunned that the Captain had heard her from halfway across the bridge. He looked up at her, and smiled.

"They were made on Earth."


Macross rose again from the island, this time on a pillar of radioactive fire. Two kilometers up, she tilted, her nose pointed into the sky, and her main drive lit off, driving the ship skyward.

In the Jolly Rogers' ready room, Ranma leaned back, bone-weariness almost overtaking him. Between the series of emotional shocks he'd gotten in the last twenty-four hours, and the brutal hour of air-to-air combat, the death of Pete Hannum, the knowledge that a total of thirty pilots and their precious Valkyries had been lost - Macross was down to only the Gunfighters, most of the Rogers, and a few remnants of Diamondback - he was just about ready to collapse.

It's a good sign that I've been slippin' in my martial arts trainin'. Used to be I could keep this sorta punishment up for a week solid.

Or maybe I'm just gettin' older?

The hatch of the ready room hissed open, and Ranma looked up, to see Roy enter. Behind him were Ichigyo and, to Ranma's surprise, Minmay.

"Yo, Sir. What's goin' on?"

"We're making rendezvous with ARMD-02. Four of her Valkyrie squadrons are being transferred to us." Roy snorted. "Most of them got no legacy, though. Their call signs are also their squadron names. The Sepia, Angel and Green squadrons. We're also getting the Wolf Pack."

"Great." Ranma nodded. "We need the pilots."

"Yeah."

Ranma indicated the two civilians. "What are these two doin' here?"

"Hikaru managed to save Minmay, down on the island, so I decided that I might as well bring them both here. Once we clear off the intruders, I can take them both back to South Ataria."

"Assuming that there's anything left for me down there," grumbled Ichigyo. "My racer was parked on the airbase tarmac. But the tarmac was hammered with missiles, had a giant ship dropped on it, then blasted by the fire from the rockets."

"Don't worry, Hikaru." Roy poured himself a cup of coffee and slammed it back. "I had your racer moved to one of our hangar bays."

"You talk like that little bird is all you have in life," noted Ranma.

"It is." Hikaru dropped onto the couch opposite Ranma. "My parents are both dead - Mom died from cancer, three years after I was born, and Dad screwed up a stunt and crashed."

Roy and Ranma both winced; "crash" was a word never used by fighter pilots, on the somewhat superstitious grounds that if you mentioned something bad, it was certain to happen.

"Well, you've still got Roy. Didn't you two grow up together or something?"

"Yeah, I taught Hikaru everything he knows about flying." Roy grinned.

Hikaru bristled at that.

"That explains his skill." Ranma nodded. "For that matter, Roy, he might exceed your own skills soon." He leaned forward. "Ever thought of flying military, kid?"

"You're wasting your breath, Jarhead." Roy grinned. "I've already tried; he ain't interested."

"Really? You saved Minmay earlier, if I heard the Guppy correctly. Right?"

"Yeah."

"That's what flyin' military means. Savin' lives, protectin' your friends and loved ones."

"It means killing."

"It means killing those who would otherwise kill the people you care about," corrected Ranma. "Look, kid. I've been a martial artist since before you were born. But it was sixteen years before I actually killed someone. Because the alternative was to let him kill my wife." Ranma looked down. "I wasn't at all proud that I killed someone. In fact, I felt like shit for a long time afterwards. But I was proud that I saved Akane's life."

There was a pause, broken by Roy. "You need a haircut, Jarhead. You've been letting it grow since you got to the island."

"You're one to talk." Ranma grinned.

"Yeah, but you're getting really shaggy. Hair that long, you look like a girl."

"Well, if it's that long...it might just finally be long enough." He reached back, and gathered the hair together, quickly braided it, and grinned. "Great. I've missed this. Minmay, gimme an elastic or somethin'." She passed one over, and he tied the pigtail off. "About freakin' time. I spent most of a whole year, back in high school, tryin' to keep a lunatic from cuttin' my hair. Three months after, I signed up with the JSDF, and they cut it all off, and I had to let 'em."

"You know, Jarhead, that actually looks...right for you."

"I'd worn a pigtail from when I was five until I joined the JSDF." He shook his head. "Never realized how much of who I was was bound up in that old pigtail." He reached into his breast pocket, and extracted a battered clump of hair. "When they cut it off, I carried it, been carryin' it, for the last ten years, as a good luck charm."

"And they say us Guppies are weird. Hikaru, I'll take you to your racer now."

"Great." Hikaru jumped up. "Minmay, you coming?"

The girl shook her head. "If it's all right with you...I think I'll stay here."

Hikaru's gaze turned dark, and it was pointed at Ranma, not at Minmay. "I promised to get you back to the island--"

Roy broke in. "You won't be able to do that just yet, Hikaru. Your little racer is a great plane, but it ain't spaceworthy."

Hikaru frowned. "Good point."

"But as soon as we get dirtside again, you can take her back. Now come on."

The two younger pilots left the compartment. Ranma heard the water running behind him, and braced himself.

Sure enough, the water splashed over him, rendering him female. Minmay sat down opposite her, and grinned. "That pigtail looks really cute on you, Ranma-chan!"

Ranma rolled her eyes. "Thanks."


"Orbital match in three hundred seconds...mark."

"Armour Two's squadrons have recovered aboard Macross. Text message from Armour Two..." Kim paused. "'Many wounded, request permission to transfer to Macross.'" Kim turned in her seat. "Skipper, Captain Fredericks has announced intention to abandon ship and fire his scuttling charges."

"Deploy docking tackle, and prepare to take aboard her crew."

"Aye, Sir."

"Miranda, Europa and Trieste report vector match, and Commodore Tremblay sends his respects. CruDiv Two will provide escort."

"To CO CruDiv Two: Our thanks, and our welcome."

Shammy scowled at her instruments. "Captain..."

"Yes, PO?"

"I've got a number of thermal sources from ahead...sixteen point sources. Looks like someone using nuclear pulse drives." Her eyes widened. "High-energy event, ahead. Five by thirteen!"

"Evasive!"

Massive beams of energy slashed through space. By some miracle - a miracle that Captain Global was no longer certain was unintentional - Macross was unhit. Her companions, on the other hand, were not so lucky.

"Armour Two destroyed." Shammy's voice was horrified, but she kept her head, and did her job. "Miranda destroyed, Europa heavily damaged and breaking off."

"Send to CO Trieste: Bug out, before they noticed they missed you." Global turned to Misa. "Lieutenant Hayase. Status of the main gun?"

"Still recharging, Captain. Sixty seconds to full power."

"PO Milliome. Show me our targets."

"Aye, Sir." Shammy punched up the approaching fleet. "Confirmed, sixteen targets. They appear to be operating in divisions of four." She hesitated. "Sir...one of those divisions is made up of ships approximately the same size as the Armour series. And it's the one with the smallest ships. The largest ships are...about three times the length of Macross."

There was a short silence. Global pulled out his pipe and jammed it between his teeth. "I think we can assume that they haven't been missing us unintentionally. They want to take this ship, not destroy it."

"That gives us an advantage, doesn't it, Sir?" asked Claudia.

"Not really, Lieutenant. They can board us, and they probably have a lot more troops than we do. Plus, let's not forget who they probably are."

"The Giants," acknowledged Claudia.

"Lieutenant Hayase. If we need to repel boarders, how many combat robots can we commit?"

"We have two hundred and forty Valkyries ready for combat. Another fourteen are down for repairs. In addition, ninety-six Destroids of assorted types are available. But six of those are Monsters, of no use in a boarding action, and I have my doubts about the twelve Phalanxes."

"So if we disregard the Monster-class and Phalanx-class, we have three hundred and eighteen units available."

"No, Sir. Because we don't have enough pilots to man more than fifty Valkyries. We could use Destroid pilots - there's lots of them - but that would waste most of the Valkyrie's advantages."

"It's just not enough." Global pulled a pouch of tobacco from his pocket. "PO Milliome, target the largest ship in the approaching formation."

"Aye, Sir."

"In the absence of any hard data, designate this class a battlecruiser. Lieutenant LaSalle. Bring us about for a firing solution along her longest axis."

"Aye, Sir. Maneuver time required eighty-two seconds."

"Execute."

"Aye, Sir. Beginning my burn. Twenty seconds."

The engines roared, and Macross surged ahead at her maximum acceleration - which wasn't all that much, mused Misa. At twenty million tonnes, even the massive engines that drove her forward could only impart just over 8.7 meters per second every second. And she could keep it up for only an hour before draining her fuel hoppers of every last pellet of plutonium.

Twenty seconds later, the engines cut out, and Claudia reported, "Burn complete. Beginning precession."

The Macross rotated to bring the bow forward to face the oncoming fleet.

"Centered and locked on Bandit One."

"Fire."

Misa twisted the firing control. Nothing happened.

"Sir! I've got no power to the main gun!"

Global's response was in Italian, and Misa was just as glad that she couldn't understand it. He smacked his comm control. "Lang! What's happened?"

"Not certain, Captain. The main capacitor ring has shorted out somewhere. We're trying to track it down now."

"Understood." He released the comm control, and turned to Claudia. "Lieutenant LaSalle, take us down."

"Back to South Ataria?"

"Yes. Stand by to execute a fold to the far side of the moon when we're two kilometers above the island."

Claudia sucked in her breath. "Captain, the fold system is still untested. We don't even know if it'll work."

"Get ready to test it. We don't have any other way of avoiding a boarding action."

"Sir." Claudia's voice dropped into professional mode. "I understand the order to execute a fold, and I do not agree with it."

Misa stared at her friend in disbelief. "Claudia, right, or wrong, he's the Captain."

"I understand that, Misa. But I feel it is my duty to officially object to this order."

"Your disagreement has been recorded." Global nodded.

"Aye, Sir. Beginning our descent. PO Laird, begin calculations for space fold."

"Yes, Ma'am."


"All hands, stand by for space fold operation."

"Ranma? What's a space fold?"

"Dunno." Ranma flipped the hot-plate on. "But you can bet it's gonna be rough. You might wanna sit down."

"Do you have to change back to a guy?"

"Sorry." Ranma grinned. "I know you prefer me like this, but if I have to launch..." She picked at her flight suit. "This thing is designed to keep me conscious during flight. It has to be fitted precisely, and it's fitted to my guy side."

"Hikaru doesn't wear one of those."

"Hikaru's little plane is a firecracker, for a civilian job, but it's still a civilian aircraft. It can't handle the sort of stress that a military jet takes as part of normal business." Ranma sat back down. "I can handle more stress than the jet can inflict, but I can't handle it forever. With the speed jeans, I can pull twelve gees for as long as thirty seconds, instead of eight gees for five seconds."

"I guess I always thought you could just...jump into a plane and go."

"It's not like a car," chuckled Ranma. "Heck, even a car ain't like most people treat it; ya gotta do some math to properly handle a car, too, even though most people can do it by instinct."

"So flying a plane takes brains, then." Minmay looked down at her shoes. "Guess that's why I don't fly."

"Brains, practice and talent. You need any two of those." Ranma shrugged. "You don't seem stupid, and the only way to test for talent is with a simulator. So who knows? Maybe you could fly."

"I flunked math."

"Oh. Well, that could be a problem," chuckled Ranma. The ship started to shudder, and she looked up. "Feels like we're plowin' atmosphere...we're going back to the island?"

"Then what about that space fold thingy?"

The answer came before Ranma could open her mouth. The ready room blurred around them, colours shifted wildly, and they were knocked off their feet.


"Fifteen seconds left."

Global gritted his teeth. The entire ship was vibrating badly, and damage indicators flashed red across the repeaters above his head. Through the viewport ahead, nothing could be seen except a swirl of multicoloured light.

"Ten seconds."

"Captain, the fold sphere is destabilizing."

"Is it part of the out-fold process?"

"Negative."

"Five seconds."

"Keep it up five seconds more."

"Fold sphere expanding and becoming more unstable." Claudia shook her head. "Controls not responding."

"Zero. Out-fold successful."

"Fold sphere collapsed." Claudia mopped her brow. "Held together just long enough..." She paused, and frowned at her display. "Sir, I've lost all telemetry to the fold system."

"That's all right. We made our destination. All stations, report."

"Tactical, online."

"Computers online."

"Communications online."

"Helm answers, Captain."

"Sensory coming back up." Shammy tapped a key, and frowned. "Captain, I've got a gravity reading."

"It's the moon. We folded to just beyond it."

"No, Captain. Too faint." Shammy pecked at her keys again. "Rate of acceleration zero point one zero five four nine meters per second squared. Range is..." She tapped another key. "Two thousand meters. Mass therefore two hundred and eighty megatons."

"That's just a little too small to be the moon, Captain," observed Claudia.

"I guess we missed it," added Misa.

"Lieutenant LaSalle, you mentioned that the fold sphere expanded as it destabilized," said Global. "How big did it get?"

"Twenty-five kilometers, Captain. But that happened in the last five seconds of the fold."

"PO Milliome. Visual beneath us."

"Inoperative, Sir. All the underside cameras were destroyed when we crashed."

"Oh. Makes sense." He turned back to Claudia. "Give us precession. I want to see what's below us."

"Aye, Sir."

The massive gyros spooled up again, and Macross brought her bow down, towards the mass beneath them.

Misa gasped.

Global shook his head. "It's South Ataria Island. The whole thing, some ocean, the Prometheus and Daedalus, the entire city, the shelters..." He turned to Misa. "Tell me the shelters are airtight."

"They are, Sir, but the Prometheus isn't. And I don't think Daedalus was at dive quarters."

"Thirteen thousand men and women. My God." He glanced over at Claudia. "Lieutenant LaSalle, I think that you were correct in your objections."

Claudia didn't speak. Couldn't.

"Captain." Shammy turned towards him again. "Velocity relative to the island is up to sixteen point three meters per second. But as we get closer--"

"Understood. Time until touchdown?"

"Oh, we've got a while. About two hours." Sammy blushed slightly, and mumbled, "Just thought you ought to know."

"Thank you, PO Milliome." Global frowned. "I don't want to smash into any shelters. Claudia, pick us out a nice landing spot."

"Aye, Sir."

"PO Kabriov. Obviously, we aren't in Trojan orbit with the moon, as we planned. Try to find out where we actually are. Co-ordinate with PO Milliome as needed."

"Aye, Sir."

"PO Milliome. Any sign of the enemy?"

"Yes, Sir. Several of their combat robots are still active in the city, but they don't seem to be doing anything. Just...wandering about."

"I don't want to risk them attacking the shelters, either. Or us. Misa, launch the Jolly Rogers and the Diamondbacks to mop up any remaining enemies."

"Aye, Sir."


"That's the last of 'em." Roy pulled up from the fireball that had been an alien battle pod. "Area is secure."

"Hey, Guppy. You lose something?"

"Hm?" Roy flicked on his Tac net. "Why do you ask, Jarhead?"

"Found this floating around out here, and figured it was yours." The MFD flickered, and a red and white civilian racing plane appeared on the screen.

"Hikaru! You fucking idiot, what are you thinking?"

"He can't hear us, Guppy. Lemme tow him back to Macross, and I'll find out what his story is."

"Okay. Don't take too long, though." Roy leaned back in his seat. "Our next orders are to assist with the search and rescue for the civilians."

"Understood, Sir." Ranma shifted to GERWALK, and started pushing the racer towards the Macross.


"He's cyanotic. Oh-two, stat."

"Will we need to intubate?"

"Naw." The senior medtech strapped a mask on the pilot. "Once he gets a bit of this, he should snap right back."

"Any chance of brain death?"

"I don't think so, Lieutenant." The medtech looked up at Ranma. "The air was pretty rancid in that cockpit, but he couldn't have been out of oxygen very long, or he'd be a lot deader."

"Okay, good." Ranma looked down at the unconscious Hikaru. "I don't care much for this asshole, but I wouldn't wish brain-death on Happousai."

"Who?"

"Never mind." Ranma watched as Hikaru convulsed, then sat up suddenly.

"What--"

"Calm down, Ichigyo. You're alive." Ranma sat down opposite the young man. "What were you thinkin', takin' that little stunt plane out into deep space?"

"I didn't." Hikaru's voice was somewhat muffled by the oxygen mask. "I was in atmosphere when I launched, then...something happened, and I found myself in space. Used my rockets to move back to the ship, but couldn't get in."

"We were at combat stations." Ranma stood up. "Okay, you weren't being a complete idiot. For a switch. But try to stay out of trouble, okay? You used up an entire lifetime's worth of luck today."


"Claudia had the guts to speak up." Misa stirred her coffee absently. "I'm starting to wonder if I've been promoted too quickly, because of my father."

"Don't you believe that, Misa." Ranma leaned forwards, and grasped the younger woman's hand. She'd shifted to her female state when she'd seen Misa's face; girl-to-girl talk was easier when both parties were girls. "There was no way you could have predicted this."

"But I knew the fold system was untested. I should have expected that something bad would happen."

"Misa--"

"But I blindly followed his orders, expecting him to be right because he's the Captain. But Captains make mistakes, too. They're human. And I should have spotted this one, said to him--"

"He ignored Claudia."

"Maybe if both of us had spoken up, he would have reconsidered."

Ranma sighed. "Misa, you're the ship's Tactical Officer. In your opinion, was there any way for the ship to have avoided a boarding action, aside from executing the fold?"

"No." She looked down. "Even using the secondary batteries, we couldn't have destroyed all the oncoming ships."

"And once brought to action, what was the possibility of us repelling boarders?"

"Pretty much none." She managed a smile. "Even with you on our team, we couldn't have taken them all out."

"So he made the right call with the data he had. You would have made the same call. So would I."

"Thirteen thousand people, Ranma!" Misa shook her head at the numbers. "Plus who knows how many on the island. And just to top things off, we're out near the orbit of Pluto! How can you call that the right call?"

"It was the right call...because no-one expected this to happen." She squeezed Misa's hand. "You made the right call this time, and you will again. And next time, disaster won't be waiting to broadside you."

"Okay." Misa stood up, a little unsteadily. "I've got to get back to the bridge. We need to co-ordinate the rescue operation."

"And I've gotta get down to the shuttle bay."

"Can we..." Misa hesitated. "Can we hook up again, once this rescue is done? Have a coffee, a bite to eat, something like that?"

"Lookin' forward to it." She smiled, and Misa returned it hesitantly before turning and walking for the hatch. It had barely closed behind her before Ranma's smile faded.

Thirteen thousand people dead, and another sixty or seventy thousand stranded in space. Nobody's fault, except maybe the aliens', but she'd chosen the right word for it. No matter how you looked at it, there was no better word than disaster.