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

Thirty-One: Malcontents Rising

April 18th, 2012

The distorted colours faded, and Milia looked up from her console. "Outfold complete, Commander. Total temporal compression two point five to one, relative to galactic average."

"We have visual contact with the Protoculture factory," reported Exedol. He touched a control, and the giant satellite appeared on the screen. Schools of Zentraedi warships patrolled around it, like guppies escorting a whale.

"It's huge," breathed Claudia.

"The Protoculture must have been astoundingly powerful to be able to build something like that," said Misa.

"Recon mission, ready to launch."

Misa turned back to her board. "Copy that, Skull Squadron. You may deploy."

"Please contact Commander Dagao of the garrison fleet," said Vwritlai.

"Yes, My Lord." Exedol tapped controls on his board.

"What did you have in mind?" asked Misa.

"I was considering asking him to surrender," said Vwritlai. "Knowing his thick skull, however, I doubt he'll do so. Additional persuasion must be applied." He glanced over at Claudia. "Can you please call Commander Saotome to the bridge?"

"Yes, Sir." She touched the allcall. "Commander Saotome, please report to flag bridge for psychological warfare duty."

"Excuse me, Commander Vwritlai." Misa's voice had dropped slightly in temperature. "Why do we need Commander Saotome present?"

"If you recall, at the time that you and Commander Ichigyo broke in to rescue Commander Saotome, myself, Exedol and Bodolze were quite incapacitated."

Misa shuddered. "Yes, I do recall."

"I surmised that the physical contact involved—I believe that you Terrans refer to it as a 'kiss'—could be repeated in order to use as a form of psychological warfare against Dagao."

Misa whirled on Claudia. "Was this your idea?" she hissed.

Claudia raised her hands. "Not I."

"Commander Ichigyo had informed me that Colonel Hayase and Commander Saotome were sufficiently intimate to perform this maneuver," said Exedol.

"Oh, he did, did he?"

"Colonel Hayase," said Vwritlai. "Am I to understand that you do not wish to 'kiss' with Commander Saotome?"

"You understand correctly," she said angrily. "To ask someone to do that—as a weapon—"

"I shall do it," said Milia.

All the Humans present fell silent, and gaped at her. Milia stood up from her console, and turned to salute Vwritlai—a U. N. Spacy salute, not a Zentraedi salute.

"For the good of the mission, I shall volunteer for this assignment," she said.

"For the good of the mission—?"

"Hush, Misa," said Claudia. More quietly, she said, "Don't get your panties in a twist. Remember: she's Zentraedi. If Ranma's lucky, she won't throw up on him."

"But she—"

"You had your chance, Misa."

She realized, suddenly, that Claudia was right on more than one level.


"So far, we haven't drawn any fire," said Ichigyo. "I don't think they care that we're here."

"I suspect that you are correct," said Exedol. "The presence of our warship would cause no concern, and your fighter is too small to be any obvious threat."

"I'd still feel happier with some backup," he admitted. "But—hey, I think they've decided to sit up and take notice. I got three bandits headed towards me."

"What sort of units are they?"

"Gimme a second...okay, I got visuals on all of them. All three are Queaddlun-Rau power armour units."

"Station defense drones," said Exedol. "You will find that they are not as dangerous as a true Zentraedi female warrior."

"Sir," said Claudia. "I have Dagao on the comms."

"Commander Saotome, reporting as ordered." Ranma stepped off the slidewalk, a water canteen in his hand.

"Excellent timing, Commander. Lieutenant, please put Dagao on the main screen." Vwritlai turned, and addressed the garrison commander.

"Commander Dagao, this is Vwritlai Kridanik, Commander of the Main Fleet. You are ordered to immediately surrender the Protoculture Factory to my control."

Dagao sneered at him. "We have heard of you, Vwritlai." The translation matrix was running, allowing the Humans to understand his words, but leaving his speech and the motion of his lips jarringly out of sync. "We have heard that you rebelled against Bodolze, and that you have become infected with culture."

Milia stood, and walked over to Ranma, falling in beside him.

"Bodolze has fallen," continued Vwritlai, "and we now have the secrets of the Protoculture. I now lead the Zentraedi people. Surrender to me, as is only right."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we will destroy you."

Dagao laughed. "You have one ship! Whereas the garrison that I command numbers five hundred vessels. You cannot hope to defeat me." He paused, noticing Ranma and Milia for the first time. "A woman...You have a woman and a man together there? How can you stand that?"

"One of the many benefits of culture, Dagao. Here is another." Vwritlai turned to his aide. "Exedol."

"Yes, My Lord." The gnomish alien tapped a control on his instrument panel...and music flooded the airwaves.

Ranma rolled his eyes. It had been used only once before, and it was already getting old. But the garrison fleet had never been exposed to music before.

"What is that noise?" Dagao was supporting himself with both hands on his console. "It makes me feel sick."

I keep tellin' people, Minmay ain't that bad...

"If that makes you feel unwell, Dagao, then perhaps we have a spectacle for you that would make you feel better. Milia?"

"Huh?" Ranma blinked. I figured he'd want me to change, to shock them—no, that's right. The Zentraedi have never been bothered by that. He turned to glance at Milia. "What does he—"

Milia threw her arms around him and kissed him. The suddenness of it left him paralyzed, just long enough for his brain to kick in to what was going on.

Psych warfare. Like when Max kissed me—bleah—and they all freaked out. So Vwritlai, or more likely Exedol, cooked this up to fry their brains.

If she hadn't taken him by surprise, he might have tossed her on her ass. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her into the kiss. She gasped in surprise, but didn't let go of him. If anything, she held him more tightly, her body pressed up against his, shivering.

He could feel Misa's eyes burning into his back.

He finally released Milia, allowing her to step back. Her balance was unsteady, and there was no way he could miss the dark blush on her features.

Well, at least I know I still got it.

He turned to Vwritlai. "Anything else?"

"Not at this time, Commander." Vwritlai smiled thinly. "Though I must thank you for accepting this very dangerous mission."

Dangerous is right. Misa's gonna skin me alive...and Milia don't need that kind of encouragement!

"Then if you'll excuse me, Commander, I shall launch and accompany the Jolly Rogers when the attack commences." He unscrewed the canteen and dumped it over his head, shifting to female.

"Why are you changing?" Milia frowned. "I thought that your flight suit did not work in your female form."

"Not my Spacy flight suit," she said. "But Switchblade is gettin' too old for front-line battle, and it can't use the FAST packs. Luckily for me, I got a very good plane captain, who made sure I have a spare ride here."

She saluted Vwritlai, the open-handed Zentraedi salute. "So with your permission, My Lord...I have a battle to attend."


The modified Queaddlun-Rau screamed out of the launch tubes, forming up with the Jolly Rogers. Someone—probably Chief Bell—had repainted the combat robot, in the Skull's black, white and yellow, and the grinning skull and crossbones across the plastron.

Skull One had nearly burned her boosters dry during Hikaru's brief tussle with the base defense drones; he was headed for the barn, to refuel. That left Rossikov, Skull Seven and the Rogers' XO, in temporary command.

"Commander Saotome. Good to have you with us."

"Good to be back, Seven."

"Since our glorious leader ain't here to lead us, I wanna request that you take command."

Ranma shook her head. "Not a good idea, Seven. Skull Leader left you in command of the Rogers; you gotta stay there until he gets back."

"Sir—I mean Ma'am—you should have been Skull Leader."

"Belay that crap, Rossikov," snapped Ranma. "Your commander is Ichigyo Hikaru, and he's a better leader than I am." She grinned. "I just kick ass better."

"Amen to that." Hikaru's face appeared in her left MFD. "All gassed up and ready to go. The Jolly Rogers are at your command."

"I just said—"

"Ma'am, you are the senior officer present," stated Hikaru formally. "As such, I report all of Skull Flight present and ready to begin operations. What are your orders?"

She sighed. "Stand by for primary burn."

"By your command, My Lady."

I am gonna kill Milia.


Unusually, the battle was almost anticlimactic.

The Zentraedi of the garrison fleet were in disarray. Actually, complete chaos might better describe their condition.

The first salvo from Vwritlai's main gun cracked Dagao's flagship in half. Follow-up volleys from the secondary weapons systems wreaked havoc on smaller vessels. Most of the target ships did not maneuver or return fire.

Perhaps four hundred combat robots of various sorts launched from the fleet. Vwritlai's estimate put their total fleet strength for armoured units close to two thousand, but the music, and the...ah, spectacle...had rendered many of their pilots incapacitated.

And of those who had launched, it seemed that none of them wanted to tangle with a Quadrano. Not even an ersatz Quadrano, in Terran colours.

In seemingly no time at all, Vwritlai's one ship, with its ragtag band of combat robots, had rolled up three hundred times its own weight in metal.


April 25th, 2012

The fold back to Earth space was uneventful, and Admiral Global was brought on board to look over the Protoculture factory. Ranma, Exedol and Misa joined him in the walking inspection.

"As you can see," Exedol said, "the factory is completely automated. To the best of our knowledge, it has been in operation for more than ten thousand of your years."

"That's longer than Earth has had proper civilization," mused Misa.

"The combat robot production lines are mostly fully functional," said Exedol. "We suffered a breakdown, unfortunately, about ten minutes after the space fold. But it was in a Regult production line, and I am not certain that we will need to produce many more of those models."

"And why not?" asked Global.

Exedol cleared his throat. "Well, My Lord—"

"Admiral, if you please."

"My apologies. Admiral." He cleared his throat again. "I cannot see that you will be allowing Zentraedi to serve as soldiers. You conquered us, and—"

"Allow me to make something clear, Minister." Global looked up at a newly finished Glaug as it was lifted from the assembly line. "We did not conquer you. We defeated the attack on our home planet by Bodolze, with the assistance of your people." He turned to look at Exedol. "We consider the Zentraedi to be our equals, not our subjects or our slaves."

"Of course, Admiral."

"That means that you will be permitted to serve in our armed forces."

Ranma stepped forward. "Actually, Sir, if I can put in my thoughts?"

"Eh? Of course, Commander."

"We don't want those pieces of crap in our service." Ranma shook his head. "The Regult is junk. It's the Zentraedi equivelant of the AK-47—not much good, but you can make lots of them fast. It's disposable, and it don't protect the trooper inside worth a damn. If we're gonna treat these people as equals," he concluded, "we gotta give 'em robots that we'd let a Human fly."

Global nodded. "Your point is well made. What would you suggest?"

"I think the Glaug is a much more capable unit, but we can still improve it," said Ranma. "Up-armour the main torso, and install a cockpit for a Miclone-scale person."

"That would require that the pilot be recloned," said Exedol.

Ranma nodded. "Yep."

"Correct me if I am wrong, Commander," said Global, "but didn't you argue against forced recloning?"

"I did," said Ranma. "And I still argue against forced recloning. But any person who joins the armed forces has to voluntarily give up something. For the Zentraedi, it'll be their size." He indicated the Glaug again. "It's the only way we can make a robot that will properly protect them."

"Hm." Global nodded. "That is well thought out, Commander, and we should definitely consider your points. However, the Protoculture factory will be invaluable to us for another purpose."

"And that purpose would be?"

"To build a starfleet," said Global. He turned back to stare again at the production lines. "Of the twelve Europa-class missile destroyers we had at the beginning of the war, only Circe remains, and we've seen that the Europa is ineffective against Zentraedi ships. Macross will never fly again. And the Inspection Army is still out there, as well as several Zentraedi fleets that are unaccounted for, and who knows what else."

"You still have Lord Vwritlai's fleet," said Exedol.

"It is not the Human way to rely on anyone for our own defense," said Global. "And while we thank you for assisting us, we will feel better once we can assist ourselves."

Exedol nodded. "I can certainly understand that, and it grieves me therefore to give you some grave news. The factory's shipyards are the worst damaged portion—they have been repeatedly attacked by Inspection Army raids."

"We can fix them."

Exedol blinked. "Humans are very skilled at repairing things, but surely this task is beyond even you. The technology is—"

"We can fix them," repeated Global. "We fixed Macross, and we can fix this factory." He glanced over to Exedol. "Humans never give up."


May 2nd, 2012

Ranma's comm chimed, pulling him out of a light sleep. He sat up, rubbed his eyes blearily, and slapped at the Accept button.

"Commander Saotome."

"Commander, this is Colonel Hayase."

Business. He sat up a little straighter, despite the fact that his comm was currently on audio only. "Colonel. What's up?"

"We've had an armed uprising at Trad."

"Damn." Now he was fully awake. "Trad is over half Zentraedi."

"Twelve Zentraedi, three of them full sized, broke into the storage facility there and stole the city's recloning chamber. The Rogers stopped them, but they're calling for backup for civil defense."

"Civil defense, eh?" Ranma frowned. "What are you sending?"

"We can't move Destroids there fast enough to make a difference," said Misa. "I want to send the Diamondbacks, loaded for CD. And I want you to go there as well."

"Why me?" asked Ranma. "I'm not part of the Diamondbacks, nor part of the Rogers anymore. Heck, I'm not even on the combat duty roster."

"We're sending a civilian police force there as well," said Misa. "Your mother has started up the old family firm, and it's her people that are going into harm's way. She requested I send you as military liason."

"Oh, for the love of—" He stood up, and reached for his tunic. "Misa, I can't tell ya how many regs this breaks—"

"Like you care about regs."

"Ha ha. On top of that, there's ethical things, like conflict of interest."

"You're well known among both the Jolly Rogers and the Diamondbacks, and good friends with their COs," countered Misa. "On top of that, I'm sending a diplomatic team, headed up by Milia and backed by Colonel Tendo for intel support. For the military liason, you make the most sense."

He groaned. "Fine. I just got back home last night, but..."

"I've ordered Commander Jenius to pick you up and transport you to the airport," said Misa.


"Can you believe this shit?" Max looked remarkably angry. "I mean, we promised them they'd have unlimited access to the recloning chamber, and they try to swipe it! I mean, they can use it any time they want. Why do something like this?"

"Don't know, Max." Ranma tossed his duffel in the back of the jeep. "And there's no way to know until we get out there."

"It's gotta be some band of Zentraedi," continued Max. He hadn't seemed to hear Ranma at all. "An organized outfit, not just independants. Probably one of the old Officer caste. Or maybe Exedol's right, and war's all they're good for—"

"I don't believe that." Ranma fastened his seat belt. "Milia's doin' real well in the Diplomatic Corps, and Exedol's hardly a warrior."

"And they're both Officer caste," pointed out Max. "What about the rank and file?" He stomped the accelerator, and the jeep peeled out at about two gees. "What if there's some Officer out there who decided to keep on fighting? All he's got to do is give the orders, and the Soldier caste will snap to and obey."

"You're starting to repeat yourself." He sighed. "Wish I was flying combat on this mission, instead of being a REMF."

"Well, Global mustered out the rest of the Jolly Rogers, in addition to us Snakes," said Max. "So we'll have thirty-six Valks on station, plus civilian police, CDU Destroids and a few full-size Zentraedi."

"That's good news, at least," allowed Ranma.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Max asked, "How's your sister?"

"Nabiki is doin' just dandy," said Ranma dryly.

Max chuckled.


It was to be the first time that Ranma had ridden in an airplane without being the driver in seven years, and he abruptly realized that he was not looking forward to it. The flight attendant showed him to his seat, and he dropped into it, and glanced upward. The VC-40 was well appointed, with several comfortable chairs, but it didn't feel right to not see the yellow and black ejector handles above his head.

"Hey, Ranma!"

He glanced up, to see Minmay standing over him. "Hi, Minmay. I think you're on the wrong—" He broke off as he realized that she was wearing a dark blue uniform. "Waitaminute. You're a cop?"

"In training," said Minmay. "But so is everyone else in Tennasaono. Mom's sending us out with the two old hands we have for practice. She thinks it's going to be a nice, safe mission...but if it was, why would they be sending you?"

"Well, I—wait, again. 'Mom?'"

"Saotome-san. Your mother. But she told me to call her Mom."

"She did?"

"Yes, silly. Remember? Back when I first met her."

Now he saw the twinkle in her eyes, and realized that he'd been had. She giggled, and sat down next to him.

"Nabiki's coming out with us as well, but she gets the really nice chairs up front, along with Milia."

"So I've heard," he said. "How long have you worked for Mom?"

"Just a bit under two months," said Minmay. "Like I said, we're still in training, but Nabiki told us that for this mission, we're to comport ourselves as proper police officers, because we'll be doing the job."

Ranma nodded. "And Nabs is in charge of your deployment?"

"Oh, no." Minmay shook her head. "Nabiki officially left the company, because she'd be in conflict of interest, because Spacy Intel has retained Tennasaono. So Captain Peters is in charge, and we answer to you."

"An' it never occurred to whoever put this circus together that I might be in conflict of interest?" Ranma sighed. "At least I don't work for Tennasaono."

"We could use you," said Minmay. "If ever you get bored of flying, and decide to work for a living."

Ranma stuck his tongue out at her.

"Or we might try recruiting Milia. Your mother seems quite taken with her, by the way."

"This I need."

"What's the matter?" Minmay frowned. "Don't you like her?"

"It ain't that I don't like her," said Ranma. "But I highly doubt that Mom wants to recruit her for the company, and I don't want her tryin' ta marry me off again."

"Oh."

He sighed. Probably just as well that Milia's up front, if Mom's been talkin' with her. The last thing she needs is yet more encouragement. As it is, I got stuck sittin' next to Minmay. Though at least she ain't actively hittin' on me...

"Oh, and look what they gave me, Ranma. Handcuffs!"

...Why me?

The airplane hadn't even started to taxi yet, and Ranma was already looking forward to the landing.


The flight attendant stepped towards Nabiki and raised his hands. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, but the seatbelt light—"

Nabiki fixed him with a cold stare. "I am quite aware of the seatbelt light, Corporal." She waited until the flight attendant wilted out of her way, then walked down to Ranma and Minmay. The nose-down attitude of the airplane forced her to hang on to seat backs as she made her way down the center aisle.

"Bad news, Ranma," she said. "They didn't wait for us to get there before starting the party."

"Damn," said Ranma. He frowned. "How bad is it?"

"Just civil disobedience at this point," said Nabiki. "We don't have any hard facts, but I want to deploy the Diamondbacks straight into the city."

Ranma nodded. "You got a VHF sender on you?"

"No. You'll have to come forward to the cockpit."

He nodded again, and stood. "Okay, let's go."

The rear section of the airplane was filled with Tennasaono's neo-cops, and the VIP section had only six seats, all but one of which were filled. The one empty was Nabiki's, of course, and he also saw Captain Arnleifdottir, of Intelligence, Milia, and three other diplomatic types, one of them probably Zentraedi. He moved past them, and into the crew area, then through that into the cockpit.

The VC-40 had five seats in the cockpit, with a usual crew of four—the fifth seat was for an observer, and was located next to the communications technician. He seated himself there, and the commo tech handed him a headset. He settled it on his head with a nod of thanks, then quickly scanned the clipboard on the console, until he found the Snakes' command channel.

"Commander Saotome to Snake Flight."

"Snake One, Saotome. Go ahead."

"Saotome, Snake. We have had a request for Snake to deploy straight into the city to support Skull. I am so ordering. Remember that this is a CD action; ROE level five."

"Snake One, Saotome. Acknowledged." Rules of Engagement level five allowed Max to take offensive action only if under sustained and deadly attack.

"Buster, Snake." He closed the channel, and handed the headset back to the commo tech. He stood, and worked his way back through the airplane.

Nabiki had displaced one of the minor diplomats, and waved him towards the seat. He sat down, buckled his seatbelt, and scowled.

"What do you know about the unrest, Nabs?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped. "I think Skull Leader overstepped his bounds, trying to remove the recloning chamber from Trad. On the other hand, he's the senior officer on station, and he was acting in what he probably felt was the best interest of the people of Trad."

"Overstepped or not, I think we have to back him," said Ranma. "It'll be up to Milia and her gang of silk merchants to smooth it over."

"'Silk merchants?'" Milia looked confused.

"Sorry, Milia. Slang for diplomat." He turned back to Nabiki. "How fast can we reach the site after touchdown?"

"We've got a bus and two jeeps standing by at the airstrip," said Nabiki. "We can be rolling five minutes after this bird touches down, and on site ten minutes after that."

"Fifteen minutes is too long," mused Ranma. "Things can get very ugly very quickly, and Max might be forced to fight back." He shook his head. "We need a diplomat on site as soon as possible."

"Fifteen minutes is as fast as possible," objected Nabiki.

"No, it ain't," he said. He turned to the VIP section's flight attendant. "I want the forward door cracked once this bird gets under fifty klicks."

"That's against regulations—"

"Sergeant," said Ranma slowly. "Do you know who I am? Never mind my rank; do you recognize me?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then you know that I don't give a damn about regulations." He sighed. "Tell the pilot I pulled rank on you."

"Yes, Sir." The sergeant looked notably relieved. Ranma turned to Milia.

"Time to put your martial arts training to good use, Student."

"Yes, Master."


The hatch opened, and Ranma and Milia jumped down from the still rolling plane. They ran across the dirt taxiway, past the waiting jeeps, and into the city.

Ranma noted that the buildings in Trad were typically three to five stories tall; there were very few private residences, and most of those were for the full-sized Zentraedi population. And like most post-Holocaust towns, it was rather poorly laid out, denying them a straight run to where the Valkyries were standing.

"How high can you jump, Milia?"

"One, perhaps one and a half meters, Master."

"Not good enough." He slowed just enough to get behind her, and scooped her up. And then gathered his ki and leaped.

The first building was a two-storey apartment building; he alighted on the roof, and leaped from there to the roof of a four-storey-tall Zentraedi house. From there, the buildings varied up or down by as much as fifteen feet, but for Ranma, it might as well have been a flat, paved road.

Like almost every other person he'd carried across the rooftops, Milia was frozen between exhilaration and panic. Her panic soon faded, however; Milia's threshold for fear was considerably higher than any mere Human's.

From the moment they leapt from the airplane to the point they stopped, overlooking the chaos below, was six minutes.

Ranma quickly noted the locations of all full-size Zentraedi present. There were ten of them, mostly looking on with varying levels of interest and confusion. Only one seemed actively hostile towards the Valkyrie forces, and he was confining himself to jeers and taunts. Thus far.

The humans were harder to read from ten meters above the crowd, but Ranma's heart fell as he heard them start to chant.

"Go home...go home...go home..."

"This could get real ugly, real fast." He knelt at the edge of the building, straining his eyes to try to pick out the ringleader—there had to be one.

"I don't think it needs to," said Milia softly. Then more loudly, to one of the Zentraedi: "You! Recognize me."

The Zentraedi turned to face her, and blinked. "You're Milia Parino, Assault Leader. What are you doing up there?"

"Attempting to salvage something from this debacle. Assist me down to the street."

The Zentraedi reacted instantly. He placed his hand to the edge of the building, and Ranma and Milia stepped onto it. He then lowered them to street level, and they hopped to the pavement.

Ranma waved to the man. "Thank you!"

Milia, on the other hand, ignored him thereafter. Instead, she strode forward, towards the recloning chamber.

Ichigyo Hikaru was present, dismounted from Skull One and trying to keep the protest from escalating into violence. He turned as they approached.

"Milia! And Ranma. Man, am I glad to see you two."

"Commander Ichigyo." Milia nodded, then turned to face the crowd.

"Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong," she said. "The grievance that you have is that the recloning chamber is being removed from this city. Is that correct?"

"That's exactly the problem."

The person who had spoken stepped forward, and Ranma gritted his teeth. Just when I thought I'd seen the last of that rat bastard...

Ling Kaifunn gestured towards the Valkyries. "Note that they bring in combat machines in job lots to enforce their will against the people of this city."

"Now that's a dirty lie," yelled Hikaru. "Our only concern is the safety of the people. And that means protecting the recloning chamber from the malcontents."

"The right to choose their size is inherent for every Zentraedi," said Kaifunn. "And for you to—"

"Shut up."

Milia's voice brooked no argument, and Kaifunn's mouth dropped open. Milia turned to face the crowd again.

"You have my promise: the recloning chamber will be returned here the very instant that I am satisfied with arrangements for its security. Arrangements that the city of Trad will choose and implement."

The word of a female Zentraedi officer was still holy writ to the rank and file Zentraedi; most of them nodded, looking pleased. The crowd started to break up.

Of course, the Humans in the crowd were definitely looking a bit more willing to disbelieve. Especially one.

"You're just a soldier yourself," sneered Kaifunn. "Why should we trust you to keep your word?"

Milia seemed suddenly taken aback by that. The very thought that her word might be disbelieved was alien to her. Ranma stepped forward.

"Milia's not a soldier; she's a diplomat. Say what you mean, Ling. You don't trust her because she's Zentraedi."

Kaifunn darkened. "You are seriously starting to get on my nerves, soldier boy."

"So?" Ranma shrugged. "Ain't much you can do about it. Unless you want another beat-down like the last one I gave you?"

Kaifunn roared, and charged forward, leading with a strong right cross. Ranma dodged it, but did not counterattack. Instead, he merely stepped a meter or so away, his stance unchanged.

Kaifunn attacked again, and again, Ranma dodged. He continued to lead Kaifunn, always avoiding his attacks, drawing him away from the crowd.

The first jeep pulled up, and Nabiki hopped out and ran over to Milia. "Oh, great. He's started a fight."

"Kaifunn threw the first punch," said Milia. "How did you get here so fast?"

"Seems jeeps get as much a boost out of invective as they would from nitrous oxide," quipped Nabiki. "What is Ranma doing? It looks like he's just playing with—Oh, my God."

Milia frowned. "What?"

"You've never seen him do this, have you? It makes what he hit you with in the park look like a love tap." She grinned. "Grab ahold of something."

Milia's frown deepened. "What is he doing?"

"He's leading Kaifunn down the spiral step, and when they reach the center..."

"Hiryuu Shouten Ha!"

A sudden blast of wind engulfed them. Debris pelted their faces, and Milia saw a car, too close to the center of the blast, flipped over by the wind. From the center, where Ranma and Kaifunn had been locked in combat, she saw a whirlwind forming, sucking dust and debris up and throwing it skyward.

A few seconds later, the whirlwind dissipated, and only Ranma remained in the center.

Nabiki clicked her tongue. "I do hope that Kaifunn is as good as Minmay told me. Otherwise, the landing might be fatal."

"Where did he go?"

"Sucked up in the whirlwind, and tossed halfway to the horizon, I imagine."

Milia remembered something she'd heard Nabiki say, more than two years ago. "I have personally seen him perform even more stunning feats, including the creation of tornadoes and the ability to turn invisible."

It seems that Master Saotome is even more powerful than I thought.