The metal oozed out between his fingers.

The captain of the starship USS Insensitive looked at his hand idly, in it laid a deformed ball of crude iron. Running it over his fingers it was soon in the shape of a near perfect sphere again when a memory assaulted him. The iron oozed between the mans fingers and out the side of his clenched fist as his anger showed itself as much as he would ever allow it to.

"Admiral Bezoar politely requests a battle plan if you could create one." The captain looked at his communication officer and nodded silently. He wasn't in the mood to speak as of yet. Standing up from the chair he glided silently across the deck and softly tapped the screen in front of the seated woman a few times. "Thankyou Captain." He smiled slightly at her as the file finished transferring and she smiled warmly back, most of the crew would give a lot to have their captain happy and she was no exception to the rule. The did not care for his beyond genius tactics or his uncanny ability to always win with some new and totally away from the book methodology, it was because he went that extra step for his crew.

The captain seemed to be anywhere and everywhere at any time, often newer crewmembers –as they all had once- found it aggravating and annoying. But once they had settled in there was not a man or woman onboard who would trade his unique knack for any price. He always was where he needed to be, always at the spot where their was a problem and handing out a few sparse words that would allow his listener to save the day. He once claimed it was his method for not solving the problem himself, but to ask any officer of his, and they'd tell you, he did solve those problems... in the best way.

And at least for the women, it didn't hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous.

Blushing the woman realized she had been staring at him as she thought. Looking away she missed the small widening of his smile. As the captain turned to leave he reached out and patted her shoulder softly and spoke. "I've done the same thing more than a few times."

The iron again oozed between his fingers.

He had physical strength beyond the norm, his mind had until recently been almost entirely devoted to a single thing. Yet here he was a commander of a starship, a commander of seven hundred and thirty-three people. The federation needed fighters to defend it-self, although at best those fighters comprised a miniscule portion of the fleet (much to the rest of the galaxies relief). He was a fighter, so he fit the bill... Technically, but why was he here instead of looking for a way to go elsewhere...

Maybe it was because this was a fight and he needed to fight, for his love was the fight itself and how the fight could manipulated so that he would win. Besides, what would the crew do without him?

Ranma looked at the crushed iron in his hand and rolled it together into a ball. Dropping it into a small storage space he smiled cheerfully as the borg cube they had been chasing appeared on the view screen. Around the Insensitive, two dozen other starships fell into a formation he had created mere hours before as admiral Bezoar's voice came across the inter-ship communications network. "Captain Saotome has been so kind as to supply us with a nice plan to play with today gentlemen, do him and myself proud."

And with that, the first starship's, right at the outer edge of the formation, fired.

Ranma 1/2 belongs to takahashi, star trek belongs to someone else, I make no profit.