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
Twenty-Three: Checkmate
July 28th, 2010
"Excuse me."
The green-haired girl looked up at Nabiki, a somewhat befuddled expression on her face. "Yes?"
"I was wondering if perhaps we could have a game." Nabiki jingled a handful of coins. "You seem to be pretty good, and I thought I could learn a lot from playing against you."
"Are you going to wager that?" The girl nodded towards Nabiki's coins.
"All right, certainly." Nabiki grinned. "Let's make it interesting. I've got thirty credits here, in addition to the amount I need for a game." She stacked the coins on the console, and the girl set an equal amount next to them. "By the way, my name is Nabiki."
"So?"
Nabiki blinked. "Well, if you're going one-on-one with an opponent, don't you think that you should know their name?"
"I suppose there is a certain logic to that," allowed the girl. "I am called Milia."
"Pleased to meet you, Milia."
Nabiki sat down opposite the girl, and checked out the controls. They'd been salvaged from a Block One Valkyrie, and as a result, reconfiguration was handled with the throttle lever instead of separate controls. That worked better for the game than separate levers would have. She resisted the urge to glance up at the control pit, and simply trusted Miyamoto to work his magic.
With the cheats engaged, I'll have fifty percent better armour, and my weapons will track more accurately.
And it quickly became apparent that she needed that advantage. Milia's handling of the GERWALK was uncertain, but she seemed to have an inherent knowledge of the uses and tactics of vectored thrust aircraft. In head-to-head mode, the game locked reconfiguration to one mode, and Nabiki had chosen GERWALK as it was the easiest to handle, and maximized her advantages.
But even so, it was obvious that the other girl was simply better than her. It took her quite a few minutes to score enough hits to win the battle, and Milia scored more overall on her; only the cheats gave Nabiki the win.
Milia looked up at her, and Nabiki saw that she wasn't fooled. But the younger woman just smiled, and said, "Perhaps you'd like to try again? Double or nothing?"
Try again? That's normally what the winner would say. Nabiki shrugged, and said, "Why not?"
The console flared, its holographic generators activating, and two miniature Battroids rose above it.
Nabiki jammed her throttle forward, and her blue Battroid dove towards the red opponent, spraying gunfire, but whatever disadvantages that Milia had in GERWALK did not apply to Battroid. She flipped her robot over the incoming stream of fire, and directed a single, short burst of fire. It struck Nabiki's ship dead center, reducing her health bar. Nabiki adjusted her flight path, aiming towards her again, and the red Battroid started flying backwards, slipping side to side to avoid Nabiki's attacks and returning pin-point fire in short, controlled bursts.
Where have I seen this style of combat before?
Nabiki tried a complex feint, one she'd heard called the Focker Feint. She doubted she'd have the skill to pull it off, but...she rammed the throttle forward, then tilted the stick, stomped left rudder and pulled the throttle back. In the holographic display, the blue Battroid roared towards the red one, then slipped underneath it, popping up behind it.
The red Battroid countered with a one-eighty turn, tumbling end for end and firing into her while inverted, then righted itself, still flying backwards, and hammered her again.
Now I know I've seen this style before. Let's just test my theory...
She broke off the engagement, scrabbling for separation, but Milia dived after her, hammering her virtual Valkyrie again and again with gunfire, until the computerized model fragmented into pieces. Then the blue Valkyrie paused, hovering in mid-air...as though ensuring the kill.
Nabiki looked up at her opponent, shocked at the cold expression the other woman wore. She nodded, set another stack of coins on the console. "Good game."
"You fought well for one who does not normally fly." Milia smiled tightly. "Even though you were cheating."
"My arcade, my rules." Nabiki smiled back.
"Indeed?" Milia collected her money, and rose. "Then I assume you have come to remove me from this place?"
"Oh, not at all," said Nabiki. "You've become a popular figure here. People come in just to watch you play. So overall, you make us more money than you take away." She paused. "I was just wondering, though, if you'd care to learn a different game."
"So you are at least trying to chase me off today."
"You've made the two hundred, and then some, that you normally would make before leaving," said Nabiki. "The sixty creds I just lost to you puts you a few over. So since you've made your cash for the day, why not join me in a game just for fun?"
Milia considered, then said, "Why not?"
"Do you ever get enough to eat?" laughed Misa.
"Not really," admitted Ranma. "An' let's face it, there's no better place to eat in town than the White Dragon."
Misa glanced around the badly damaged city. "They still haven't finished repairing the damage from the raid."
"I know," said Ranma. "The aliens managed to inflict an awful lot of damage."
Misa pointed out a construction crew. "Notice something, though?"
"Eh?" Ranma glanced over. "Well, at least one of that gang is Zentraedi. Or else he thinks purple hair is okay."
"Actually, I think I see two others, besides him," said Misa. "They're really doing their part to rebuild."
"Seems like," said Ranma. She changed course, walked up to the work gang. "Yo. Keepin' busy?"
One of the Zentraedi turned towards her with a big grin. "This is a lot more rewarding than blowing things up!"
Another nodded. "Takes longer, though. Maybe that's why."
Ranma nodded. "Anybody can wreck something in a matter of seconds. Creating something takes longer, requires skills, and you can feel better about it."
"But you are also a soldier," said the first one. "Don't you feel..." He trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.
"I'm a soldier, yeah," said Ranma. "But my job is to stop people from blowin' stuff up."
"I am also a soldier," said Misa. "But the rebuilding of the city falls under my scope of command."
"An' on Earth, there's whole groups of soldiers, called Combat Engineers, whose job often involves buildin' stuff. And other groups, called Guardsmen, who also build stuff. So even for a soldier, we get the chance to build or repair."
"You forgot Technicians."
"Naw, I didn't," she said. "But the Zentraedi have Technicians."
The Zentraedi looked awed, possibly a bit overwhelmed. "Can...can I join one of these groups?"
"Unfortunately," said Misa, "not until the war is over. It wouldn't be fair to put you in a position where you might have to fight your friends."
"Yo, Misa," broke in Ranma. She pointed across the road. "Saochin and Feichung."
"Hm?" Misa glanced towards the couple. "Oh. What are they up to?"
Misa and Ranma headed towards the older Chinese couple. Ranma waved as they approached.
"Yo. What's up?"
"Minmay just told us that Kyle was in hospital," said Feichung. "He was helping with the construction crews, and had an accident."
"Shit," said Ranma. "Sorry to hear that. Is he okay?"
"Not precisely," said Saochin. "He's got some broken ribs. Some more, that is." The glance he gave Ranma was mock-accusatory. "Damn fool was ordered to take it easy, but he was determined to do his share. And he lost his grip on an I-beam, and it landed on his chest."
Misa poked Ranma in the side. "See what you did?"
"Hey!" Ranma protested. "He started it!"
"I know," said Saochin. "Boy's temper was never very good. But now he'll have to rest. They're refusing to release him until his ribs mend."
"So you've shut down the restaurant?"
"Don't sound so glum, Ranma!" laughed Misa.
"Minmay can't run it by herself," said Feichung.
Ranma frowned, then said, "You got an apron in my size?"
"Five years of Academy training, first in my class, and here I am, waiting tables."
"Quiet, you," laughed Ranma. She set two plates on the kitchen window. "Helpin' out friends in need is nothin' to complain about."
"Why can't I cook?"
"Because I'm better at it."
Misa stuck her tongue out at her, and picked up the two plates.
The lunch rush was almost over. That Ranma was a good short-order cook was no surprise; she liked to eat too much not to know how to cook. The word had quickly gotten around that Miss Macross was serving tables at the White Dragon, and customers had poured in. At least a quarter of them tried to get seats that allowed them to watch Ranma in the kitchen, however, as Ranma approached cooking the same way she did anything else: At top speed, with infinite precision, and a lot of flair.
"Just be glad that we ain't doin' this the way they did at the Nekohanten," said Ranma.
"Where?"
"The last restaurant I worked at," she said. "The cook would just throw the dishes, and ya had to be quick to catch them. Once you could do that, she started throwin' more than one. At my peak, I was catchin' up to ten, without spillin' a drop."
"Oh, dear." Misa shook her head. "Your training has helped, but not that much."
"Last one," said Minmay. "We can close up after this."
"Good," said Ranma. "We're nearly out of dishes." She glanced at the dishwashing area. "We really needed one more person."
"Well, I can do that now." Minmay started to pull off her cheongsam, causing Ranma to panic momentarily until she realized that the younger girl was wearing shorts and a T-shirt underneath. She calmed her breathing, and started the scrub-down on the grill.
"Any idea how long your aunt and uncle will be gone?" Misa was leaning against the kitchen window, a cup of coffee in her hands.
"We got somewhere to be?" asked Ranma. "You ain't due on duty until tomorrow, and I still got three days of this enforced leave crap."
"No, not really. It's just that..." Misa paused, and sipped her coffee. "Well, we've got this place gleaming, there's no customers, nothing really to do. But until Saochin and Feichung return, we're pretty much stuck here."
"Hey," said Minmay. "I'm here."
"You can't run the store by yourself," said Ranma. "And someone else might happen in. And it wouldn't be fair to your aunt and uncle if we locked up after tellin' 'em we'd keep it open."
"And I can only wipe the tables so many times before the finish comes off," said Misa.
Ranma considered, then said, "All right. There's no motor traffic in this area yet. Let's head out into the street, and we'll spar."
Misa stared at him. "Spar?" She indicated her knee-length skirt and knit top. "Dressed like this?"
"What's the second rule of self-defense?"
"'The attacker will not allow you to choose the time or place of the attack.'" They were Ranma's rules, and she'd developed them after years of fending off unprovoked, unwarranted assaults.
"So you think an attacker will give you time to change clothing?" Ranma waggled a finger at her. "And you're a Tactical Officer."
Minmay giggled. Misa flashed the smaller girl a dirty look before turning back to Ranma. "All right, fair point. But do me a favour?"
Ranma tilted her head and grinned.
"Don't force me to use any high kicks, okay? This is a full skirt."
"Red?"
"I am going to kill you." Misa discovered that one could say the entire phrase while one's teeth were gritted. She threw a rapid three-punch combo, and Ranma parried them effortlessly, then rapped her side with her knuckles.
"Ya got it wrong. It's supposed to go, 'Saotome Ranma, prepare to die!'" Ranma chuckled, then dodged a side kick. "Why red? What would the bridge crew think?"
"If anything, they'd think that--" She threw another punch. "That my choice of undergarments when off-duty was irrelevant." Misa grinned evilly. "Or that I was wearing them for someone else's benefit."
As always, a statement of this sort caused Ranma to stop in surprise. Only an instant, but after a half year of training under the harshest taskmaster on the ship, Misa was ready for that instant. She swept Ranma's legs out from under her, knocking her to the ground.
Misa stood up, and chuckled. "We have got to work on that prudish streak of yours."
Ranma rolled to her feet. "All right, let's take five."
Minmay was watching wide-eyed from the sidelines. "She taught you all that in only six months?"
"No," said Misa. "I had already had some training from Basic. Ranma just built on the foundation."
"Remind me to meet with your previous sensei," said Ranma. "I wanna shake his hand. He gave you one hell of a foundation in only one week."
"Can you teach me, Ranma?"
Ranma considered the request, then shook his head. "There's at least three good reasons why not."
"Oh." Minmay looked down. "Will you at least tell me why not?"
"Well, to begin with, martial arts requires a lot of dedication," said Ranma. "Between your job here at the Dragon, plus your schoolwork, plus your part-time career as a singer, plus the time you're puttin' in at ground school...you don't have a lot of time left to yourself."
"I guess..."
"Already, you're stretched to the breakin' point," said Ranma. "Remember how, six weeks ago, you passed out from exhaustion?" She leveled a finger at the singer. "They don't hospitalize people for kicks, ya know."
"Okay," said Minmay. "You've made your point. I'm fragile."
"Compared to me, or even Misa, maybe."
"What's the other reason?"
"Same as the reason I can't train you for flyin'," said Ranma. "Misa got my ticket punched as a military instructor. The only way I can teach you hand to hand is if you sign up."
"Which you can't do until you're eighteen," added Misa. "Plus, I'm not certain that you'd make it as a soldier. No offense," she said, raising a hand. "It takes a different mindset."
"None taken," said Minmay with a smile. "I'm not really sure I could put up with some of the things you guys do."
"But the lack of time is the biggest reason," said Ranma. "You know how much time I spend practicin'?"
"Uh...no idea."
"I put in six hours each and every day," said Ranma. "Misa's not going for world-class, so she devotes only one hour per day."
Minmay's eyes widened. "I thought that a couple of hours per week--"
"For self-defense purposes, that's more than enough," said Ranma. "An' anyone can train you to that level, though I seriously doubt there's even that much time in your schedule."
Minmay's eyes fell. "Probably not."
"You're stretchin' in too many directions at once," Ranma said. "You might have to give up somethin'. I just hope it ain't your singin'."
"He's got all your albums," said Misa.
"Really?"
"Well..." Ranma looked abashed. "All my music was dirtside, ya know? I wanted some tunes, and only yours were available. But they're good. You've got some talent, kid."
"Not exactly a ringing endorsement," said Misa drily.
"But why do all these pieces have different movement rules?"
Nabiki grinned. "Chess is stylized warfare, remember. A Valkyrie has a different rate and mode of movement from a Tomahawk, and both differ from, say...a Queaddlun-Rau."
Milia looked up, startled, and Nabiki forced herself not to react.
"All right, I can understand that." She indicated the board. "So why does White always move first?"
"Someone has to."
"Very well. And the reason you chose to play White was...?"
"Moving first is a disadvantage," said Nabiki. "Despite the fact that it forces Black to react, rather than act, the choice of White's tactics sets the flavour for the entire match. An experienced player can take advantage of that, read the entire course of the game from White's initial move."
"I am not an experienced player."
"Really?" Nabiki advanced her King's Pawn, a standard opening gambit. "I hadn't noticed."
"That is sarcasm." Milia deployed one of her Knights. "I am unaccustomed to such."
Nabiki brought out her Bishop to counter Milia's Knight, and Milia immediately deployed her second Knight. Nabiki developed her Queen, and Milia brought the first Knight around in a fork.
"Nice work." Nabiki considered the board, then shifted her Queen out of the line of attack. Milia immediately took the Bishop.
"First blood."
Nabiki took the Knight, and Milia took Nabiki's advanced Pawn with her other Knight. Nabiki advanced a Pawn to threaten her Knight, and Milia did the same, to threaten the White Queen.
"Aggressive, aren't you?" Nabiki grinned.
"Of course."
Nabiki bent her attention to the game. Milia's play remained aggressive, developing her pieces quickly. Nabiki took advantage of this, launching a series of attacks on her Queen, forcing her back on the defensive.
The midgame was a bloodbath, pieces captured on both sides in a rapid series of attacks and counterattacks. Somehow, both Queens made it out of the midgame, but Nabiki quickly found hers hemmed in by Milia's surviving pieces.
"I have a minor advantage in terms of material," said Milia. "And both Kings are locked behind their defenses." She slid her Queen diagonally, taking a Pawn. "If this game is to advance, I shall have to erode your defenses."
Nabiki scowled. She could take Milia's Queen with her own, but a Rook was guarding it; she'd be trading Queen for Queen. She slid the Queen diagonally. "Queen takes Queen."
"Rook takes Queen." Milia smiled. "You are running out of options."
It was true, and Nabiki knew it. She ground her teeth, staring at the board. Her only remaining pieces were a Bishop and a Knight, in a defensive position. They commanded little of the board. She had two Pawns left as well. Milia still had her Rook and a Knight, plus a stronger Pawn defense.
"You are also running out of time." Milia indicated the clocks.
"Hush."
"I might just win by default."
Nabiki ground her teeth, and moved her King to attack the Rook. Milia slid the Rook out of harm's way.
"Purely defensive move, Milia." Nabiki smiled, and brought her pieces back into play. "Bad move."
The next ten moves were almost comical, Nabiki's remaining pieces, including the King, chasing the Rook across the board. It cost her her Knight and two remaining Pawns, but she killed the Rook.
Milia looked up and smiled. "Ever heard of target fixation?"
Nabiki paused, and looked at the board. "Oh, hell."
Her remaining Bishop was badly out of position, and Milia's Pawns advanced like an invading army. The Black Knight kept her Bishop harried and out of the fight, and Nabiki found her King pushed back by the interlocking wall of Pawns. Until first one Pawn, then a second, reached the back row, and became Queens.
Nabiki looked down at the board. "Pretty much scripted from here. Queen takes Bishop, check. I would have one move from there, and then your second Queen takes the game."
Milia nodded. "You did well, for one who is not a warrior."
"And you did exceptionally well for someone who only just learned the game," said Nabiki. "I don't suppose the Zentraedi play chess, do they?"
The colour drained from Milia's face. "You--"
"You play like a machine. One who has studied tactics all of her life, right from the moment she was decanted." Nabiki indicated the board. "You use horde tactics, just as your people use up the lower-caste warriors. You're a Zentraedi."
Milia jumped her feet, drawing a dagger from her sleeve. "I--"
"Oh, sit down. I'm not going to rat you out." Nabiki waved a hand. "To begin with, your people have been given asylum."
"You are more than you appear," said Milia. "What are you?"
"Major Tendo, Chief of Intelligence," said Nabiki.
"You are a spy."
"Not exactly," said Nabiki. "I'm an analyst. I figure things out. Now will you please sit down and put away the knife?"
Milia sat down again slowly, but kept the knife in her hand. "So this game was some sort of elaborate trap to determine if I was one of your enemies?"
"No." Nabiki shook her head. "I figured that out while we were playing the video game. This was to tell me what sort of enemy you were. You're a warrior, and a high-ranking one, not a spy. You think like a Squadron Leader." Nabiki leaned forward a bit. "I think that you were the one who shot down Major Focker."
"I have shot down many of your pilots," admitted Milia. "I knew none of them by name."
"Well, just the same, I think that it would be better if no-one knew your history," said Nabiki. "But I might just have a use for you. Consider it payment for my silence."
"Your silence could be more easily bought," said Milia. She raised the knife.
"You really want to reconsider that," said Nabiki. "After all, at least three other people know we're here. It's a big ship, but you can't hide forever. And killing a high-ranking officer of the U. N. Spacy won't be good for you. I won't be able to protect you if I'm dead."
Milia paused, then returned the dagger to her sleeve. "You make a good point. Then what would you have of me?"
Nabiki grinned. "Simple. We've learned a lot about the males of your people. But nothing of the females, save that they are different." She leaned forward, rested her chin on her folded hands. "What can you tell me of your culture?"
"You said there were three reasons," said Misa.
"Mm?" Ranma looked up from his coffee. "What d'ya mean?"
"When you told Minmay that you couldn't train her in martial arts, you told her there were three reasons. But you only explained two of them."
"Oh." Ranma chuckled. "Well, to begin with, those two were more than good enough. Right?"
"Yes, but I want to hear the third."
Ranma sighed, and set down the coffee cup. "Well, you know that Minmay still has that fixation on me, right? Or on my girl side, at least. The last thing I need is for her to have an excuse to spend more time with me."
Misa shook her head. "That's not the entire reason, is it?"
"Not entirely, no, but that's the core of it. You've heard some of the stories about my Mom, right? She thought Minmay was all that and a bag of potato chips, and also figured that she an' I were datin'. Even after she learned about you, she kept sorta pushin' Minmay to chase me. She figures that anyone as manly as me ought to have three or four girls on the go at once."
"Oh."
"So I also want to avoid any further possibility that she might decide to chase me or somethin'. You know how teenage girls are."
"Yes, I do." Misa chuckled. "Much better than you do."
"Granted, but..." He shrugged. "It took me two years to work out the mess of women chasin' me back before Akane an' I finally got married. I don't wanna risk that sort of mess again." He looked down at his coffee. "Shampoo and Ukyo got hurt the worst out of that, but nobody came away from it unscarred. The Kunos were sectioned, Nabiki built her Ice Queen persona, Ukyo was renounced by her family, and Shampoo..." He sighed. "She spent some time in a Japanese jail, but when she was released, Cologne locked her curse. She's been trapped as a c-c-" He shuddered. "A cat, for the rest of her life. All because of me."
"I seriously doubt that it was entirely your fault," said Misa. "Or even remotely. As I understand it, she chose to pursue you, due to some obscure law of a barbaric tribe at the edge of the known world. She failed to win you, and endangered the woman you loved by her actions. I'm amazed that even you let her live."
"I shoulda found a way," he muttered. "Some way to resolve it without taintin' her honour. Nobody deserves what she got done to her."
"What happened to Ukyo?"
"Mm?" He looked up. "Last I heard, she'd changed her last name - she was as mad at her dad for that entire fiasco as she was at me an' my Pop - and she's still runnin' her restaurant in Nerima. Nabiki might know more, but she ain't been in Nerima for a long time. She left shortly after I did."
"But at least she would still have visited her family," said Misa. "She might have touched base with Ukyo."
"Ukyo and Ryouga were the closest things I had to friends in Nerima, aside from Akane." He grinned mirthlessly. "A lot of people figured those two would get together or somethin', but Ryouga married that pig-farmer, Akari, shortly after Akane an' I got married. We got an invite to the weddin', but..." He looked down at his coffee. "It was for three days after the bombing." He shook his head. "Damn, I ain't really thought of Ryouga since my days in the Army."
"Oh?"
Ranma chuckled. "He was cursed, too. Turned into a little black pig. It crossed my mind once, years ago, since I was a Heavy Weapons specialist, that I was a pig-man, too."
Misa stared at him. "He turned into...a little black pig."
"Yeah."
"And you told me that Akane had a pet pig, that you never liked." Misa shook her head. "You never explained that completely to me, but...I'm guessing that Akane's P-Chan was Ryouga?"
"Give the girl a cigar," said Ranma. "Akane was nice, an' all, but not too swift on the up-take. She never figured that one out."
"But she took that pig into her room at night, undressed in front of him..." Misa shook her head again. "She must have been livid when she figured it out."
"She never did. An' because I'd promised Ryouga never to tell anyone about his curse, I couldn't tell her."
"So you had Ryouga pretending to be Akane's pet pig, and you still considered him a friend?"
Ranma shrugged. "Closest thing I had, really."
"And half the girls in the district wanting to marry you, those crazy Kunos wanting to marry or kill you, depending on your gender, wandering martial artists trying to take a round out of you just for fun, that Kumon individual, Saffron--I still don't quite believe that story--Herb locking you as a girl..." Misa sat down. "And all in the space of only two years. How the hell did you stay sane?"
Ranma shrugged again. "After Pops' training methods, it was all kinda tame."
Global considered the report sitting in front of him. "And your source refuses to be revealed?"
"That is regrettable, Sir, but unavoidable." Nabiki stood at attention in front of his desk. "I think it's good enough that we have a female defector at all."
"I would agree with that," said Global. "Any idea why she refuses to identify herself?"
"None, Sir. But to hazard a guess, I think that she might fear reprisals from the Zentraedi; she indicated that there are still espionage agents aboard."
"Among the defectors?"
"She didn't state so. Further, she stated that they were females, and all the defectors, with the exception of herself, are male."
"So I can expect that your next report will cover the females' culture?"
"Or lack thereof," she said. "However, it seems that their upbringing is little different from the men's, and I don't think that it warrants a separate report."
"So why are they superior?" Global leaned forward. "Why is it that the Zentraedi hold them in such great respect?"
"Sir, I'm not sure," admitted Nabiki. "They definitely are superior - my source exhibited reflexes and tactical thinking greatly above that of most of the males I tested - but as to why, I have no idea."
Global considered, then asked, "How can you find out?"
"Genetic testing. Save that we don't have the materials for that."
"See if you can determine another means, Nabiki." Global leaned back and pulled his pipe from his pocket. "We need that data."
"Sure thing...Bruno."
Global's pipe fell from his hand. "You--"
"If you're going to first-name us, you can expect the same," she said sweetly. She gathered her papers and walked from his office.
Global scowled, then grabbed his pipe from his desktop and started packing it. Twice he opened his mouth, even though Nabiki was long gone, then stuck his pipe between his teeth and sparked a match.
