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A
Ranma ½ Star Wars
Crossover Fanfic
Pathfinder: The Search for Earth
Book One: First Contact
By: Grounders10
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Chapter Three
Life Debts and Lightsabers
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Trandoshans were some of the largest and most aggressive sentient species recognized by the Galactic Republic. Slavers, poachers and worse all with enough physical strength and cunning to prove a danger to some Jedi. There was a reason that Dack had aligned himself with Rukt's band.
A reason he was beginning to question as he watched nearly a hundred of the brutes, the best of the ship in fact, lose to a tiny girl that he could barely sense in the force. She was like a shadow on the wall as she toyed with the Trandoshans. The blip of her life force wove in and out of the crowd, disappearing beneath the tide only to emerge elsewhere as the mighty lizards were cast aside into the grasping claws of Wookiees or crushed beneath a slipper-clad heel.
It wasn't natural. A girl with that little life force should have been dead, not dancing.
A flash of light was accompanied by a loud bang and a half dozen Trandoshans went flying as the feeling of unrestrained life force slapped against Dack's senses along with the feeling of pure confidence that abruptly bled through the force.
Then it was gone.
Missing but for that shadow on the wall.
It was like the girl was in the lee of a large tree and he was the wind. Or perhaps it was the other way around? She was the wind, and he was behind the tree listening to her pass him by.
Certainly, her movements felt wild enough.
He stepped to the side as a Trandoshan passed through where he had been standing. Then sidestepped again and once more after that. He scowled. The girl flipped over the head of a Trandoshan with a handstand then slammed another into the ground with the heel of her foot before hurling a fourth lizard at him.
He carved the reptilian alien in half with his sword before hurling the fifth back at the girl with the Force. Her laugh in reply was high and cheerful and laced with a mocking undertone that made his blood boil. The sixth and final alien was hurled back as well, scattering his companions like pins.
"Kill her! She is one girl!" He shouted at the Trandoshans as more jumped the railings of the third floor to the second before throwing themselves down to the bottom floor. Not that it mattered. One or a hundred, it seemed it mattered not at all to her. If anything the more there were the faster they fell as the girl used them against one another. Claws were redirected into faces, fists into guts, and attempted tackles would carry two or more of the Trandoshans to the ground.
There had been three hundred sent to put the Wookiees in their place. He had lost fifty in the struggle and had sent away twice that to be treated for injuries. A hundred and fifty Trandoshans should have been enough to crush even the local's foothold after they were done.
Nearly two-thirds of them were now lying on the ground, dying or wishing they were.
His hand clenched tightly about his lightsaber.
A Trandoshan was kicked into the bars of a cell hard enough that he could do little but wail as he suffered the same fate as Rukt.
His teeth clenched.
Two Trandoshans were battered into each other before being hurled into the dwindling crowd.
The Wookiee slaves roared and cheered, though what sapient could tell the difference in their yowling Dack couldn't say. Shyriiwook hadn't been on his list of languages to learn even in his days as a Padawan. There were far more useful languages to learn than those belonging to one mid-rim world of questionable importance. Especially one inhabited by those who lacked the development to speak more civilised tongues.
Their roars, however, grated his ears as a Trandoshan was grabbed by the ankle and swept through the air like a flail before being tossed at one of the assailants of the instigator of the uprising. Each Wookiee's roar of defiance was just one more proof that this wasn't working.
"It would seem," Dack growled as his temper peaked, "That the oldest saying is true again. If you want something done right," He reignited his Lightsaber and tossed himself over the railing with a roar, "DO IT YOURSELF!"
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Ranma barely had a heartbeat to process the angry shouting before a blazing sword of blue light carved through where her head had been. The inexplicable battering ram that tossed her down the cellblock was a little more confusing.
She rolled to the side as the swordsman followed her. The blade left a molten trail in the metal of the wall. She hopped to her feet, flipping over another swing and landing on the face of a 'Trandoshan' lying on the floor. The man shouted something and the lizards shied away from her as she slid into a more formal stance.
In the background, the Wookiee she had saved was wrestling with two of the Trandoshans. Ranma would have loved to help the alien again, but there was something odd about the swordsman. Something that tickled her senses as they circled each other.
The sword came in, a sharp thrust for her head that was avoided long before the blade reached her only for the swordsman to shift his weapon to chase her. It shouldn't have been possible as she ducked and weaved out of the way of his attacks. Thrusts, short swipes and parries that forced her to back off lest she lose a hand. It reminded her of that young boy who claimed to see the future.
The one who had humiliated her for an entire day.
Still, this felt different.
A brush of something, a whisper half-heard through a wall of stone, and she leaped to the side as Dack thrust forward an open palm.
The same invisible force that had tossed her into the wall knocked Trandoshans off their feet as it roared through where she had been. It wasn't Ki, that was for certain, but now that she was focused on it she could feel… something. It was like trying to feel the solar wind from a cave, but there was something there…
Possibly her imagination.
She flicked a loose gun up off the floor and absently kicked it toward the Wookiee she had saved. The buttstock clubbed the Trandoshan riding its back over the head hard enough to lay it out entirely.
The action was followed by a slide to the right as Dack lunged again. She ducked under a swipe and lunged forward herself, only to withdraw as the blade was imposed in her path. She tsked and they resumed their circling.
It wasn't that 'Dack Gaian' was fast. Far from it, he was close to Akane's speed, but he was reacting before she acted. He had just enough speed to make it count. Any slower and she'd be able to blast straight through.
He was smirking at her as she scowled at him. He said something and gestured with his sword before sighing. She returned a mocking bow and smirked at the scowl she received in return. This guy felt like he had a thin skin. It was a pity they couldn't understand each other. If they could she'd consider the Hiryu Shoten Ha. Even in cramped quarters such as these there was enough room for the technique.
The sword was twirled, a warbling tone chasing its every motion.
She stepped over an unconscious lizard.
A brush of something crossed her senses.
She jumped, backflipping onto the railing above as Dack thrust both hands forward. Debris and aliens were picked up and hurled at the wall by telekinetic force.
That feeling of something returned and she dashed along the railing of the catwalk. Invisible battering rams shook the catwalk as Dack thrust one hand after the other toward her. Trandoshans on the catwalk took swipes at her, which missed, before being blown off their feet and into the walls.
At the end of the railing, where the catwalk turned around the room, a Trandoshan stood with a large rifle. Ranma jumped as it opened fire down the railing. She kicked off the wall between cells and slammed a flying kick into its jaw. She snagged the falling alien by the collar and leaped back out into the open air.
She could see Dack winding up for a big push as she hurled the alien at him. She smirked as he abandoned the action to catch the alien in his telekinesis. She landed on the far railing and immediately kicked back off with all force.
Dack tossed the alien aside, but the improvised missile had cost him time. Time that meant he could only hurriedly stumble aside to avoid her strike. Time that left him unable to block the kick that caught his wrist.
The sound of snapping bones echoed through the cell block.
The sword went flying, its blade retracting into the hilt with an angry snap-hiss.
She drove a fist into his gut, but scowled as his good palm caught hers and that same force that shoved bodies around instead cushioned the blow. It wasn't enough to keep her from sending him rolling across the room, but he didn't break all the bones in his body like she had hoped to.
He said something unpleasant and held a hand out toward his sword.
Ranma quickly took two steps to the side and caught the hilt as it started flying toward him. It strained in her grip, but after a moment the feeling settled leaving her holding the sword hilt. She smirked at him and resisted the urge to juggle it. He'd probably take the opening to yank it back if she did. Instead, she wiggled the weapon at his enraged face before giving it a glance over. It had several recessed buttons, one of which was perfectly positioned for her thumb in a comfortable grip.
She thumbed the button and the blade reformed with the same snap-hiss of burning atmosphere. An audible hum rose from the weapon. She turned the weapon carefully as she examined the sky-blue blade. She could feel something trying to twist the hilt out of her hand as she did so. A force that fought her not unlike the weight of a more normal sword blade. It seemed that despite being weightless, it was still grounded like a regular sword.
"You're a strange one," she said to it before jumping back as Dack thrust a hand forward. The same whisper, louder than before, brushed at her senses. It wasn't ki, oh no, but she could feel something of it with her Ki. A resonance perhaps? Like one affected the other somehow.
She twirled the blade and smirked at her opponent. "C'mon, this fancy stick can't be your only toy, can it?" she taunted. Her tone must have made it through since Dack thrust his hands forward. She mirrored him, raising her free hand and releasing a less focused blast of ki. The thin strike dissipated against the wall of telekinetic force, but it bled off enough energy that only her clothes and hair were ruffled by the strike.
Around her, she could see the Trandoshans backing away and pulling out their rayguns.
Dack raised a hand and clenched his fist. With a screech of tortured metal, a section of the walkway above him crumpled as it was ripped from the wall. He gestured and it flew toward her.
She dodged to the side easily. It wasn't exactly a fast projectile. The rayguns shots were faster, as proved when the Trandoshans on the upper two levels of the cell block opened fire. There weren't many left standing at this point. Maybe two dozen at most in the entire cell block. It didn't mean she could just stand still, however.
She dashed down the cell block as bolts of energy slapped the floor and walls. The tip of the sword drew a line of superheated metal in the floor behind her. That feeling came again, alongside a hint of what could only be anger, and she dived backwards in time to avoid the telekinetic strike that rattled the bars of a cage and sent its occupants tumbling.
Then something odd happened. A stray shot struck the blade of the energy sword with a crackle and bounced off to strike the nearby wall.
Three more bolts came from above. She sidestepped two and raised the sword into the path of the third with an upward sweep. With a crackle, the bolt flew back and cracked into the catwalk above.
Then she dived out of the way as Dack hurled a half dozen knives ripped from the bodies around him at her. She rose, her form blurring as she intercepted the bolts of energy the Trandoshans were firing. Six shots came in, six shots flew out.
A Trandoshan yelped and ducked into cover as a bolt slapped into the walls beside its head.
The Wookiees howled and hooted, rattling their bars and barring teeth.
Ranma deflected another shot with a critical eye to the deflection. She could see why, in an age of rayguns, someone would use a sword like this. Volume of fire was something she'd been having issues with in the tight confines of the ship. If it could deflect shots as well as act like a plasma torch? She was going to keep this one if she could manage it.
She batted another shot away and sidestepped another telekinetic shove from Dack. Seeing an opening she charged. A blur of blue light deflected the bolts away from her and in the very rough direction of her opponents. A few went wild, cracking into the floor and walls, but most went roughly back in the direction of her enemies.
Dack drew his hands back and that distant feeling tickled Ranma's ki again.
She met the push with a burst of ki and lunged for the space wizard with a kick. Her feet met nothing but air as he leaped out of the way to the railing above. She pursued him. Slippered feet crumpled railings as he evaded her. He was scrambling with something in the small of his back as he sailed up to the next floor.
Tickle.
Ki met telekinesis and Ranma was forced to grab the railing with her free hand and swing up on the opposite side of the third floor from Dack. She kicked a Trandoshan into the wall and turned to glare at another pair. The only other door into the cell block was on this level and the pair took the chance to run, disappearing from view quickly.
Dack screamed something at them angrily as they left before finally freeing another hilt from the small of his back. With a snap-hiss, a humming ruby-red blade just as long as the one Ranma held came into existence. He raised it in his off-hand and pointed it at her before saying something.
Ranma snorted. "Bring it," she replied, beckoning him with her free hand.
With a truly inhuman shriek, Dack leaped at her moving faster than ever. His ruby blade left afterimages behind. Ranma raised her blade in time to block the wild strike. She took a step back as sky-blue and ruby-red hissed and crackled at each other. The blades refused to slide past each other, some force pulling them together at the point of contact until Dack drew back.
Then he came again, and again, and again, a battle scream like a madman pouring from his lips. He was faster than before, his strikes more powerful and she gave ground. Step, block. Step, block. Not because he was faster than her, nor because his strength was greater. She stepped back as she eyed his movements, his form, his grip, everything about his style.
She watched.
She learned.
Then, as she began to run out of catwalk, she ducked. Her form blurred as she slipped under his guard. He reacted, almost before she moved, but it was too slow to prevent her foot from catching him in the side with enough force to hurl him across the room. It was fortunate for him that it was the shortest path across the room.
Dack Gaian rolled to a stop by the door, having somehow avoided cutting off his own arm with his spare sword. He rose unsteadily to his feet, his wounded hand against his chest where Ranma had felt two ribs snap.
They stared at each other and Ranma raised her pilfered blade. "Hey, robot," she called down to the second level.
"Erm… Yes? May I be of service?" the voice of the protocol robot answered.
"Tell your boss to surrender," she said. There was a long moment before it spoke in a language she didn't understand. Dack scoffed and replied in a bitter tone.
"My master refuses your demands," the robot said.
"Then-" Ranma didn't get another word out Dack levitated a spherical object from an unconscious Trandoshan's belt. It let out a beep before throwing itself at Ranma as the swordsman headed for the door.
Grenade.
Ranma glanced about before lunging to meet it in the open air. Her foot caught the sphere and mercifully it didn't explode on contact. As she dropped to the catwalk below it flew into the stairwell.
There was a shriek and a great flash of light and heat came from the stairwell.
Ranma glanced toward what was, fortunately, one of two staircases. She could see the superheated metal in the corner. She jumped up to the third floor and charged the door. Messing with the buttons it simply beeped at her. She punched the door, then glanced at her new sword. She could probably cut through it, but what would be the point? Dack had probably already made it to an elevator, or at least around the corner.
The ship was a maze and she had other things to worry about.
Giving up on the door, Ranma turned back to the railing and looked down. "Is everyone alright down there?" she yelled while scanning for Trandoshans. The floors were carpeted with the unconscious, the dead, and the dying. She hadn't exactly been holding back against slavers.
The Wookiee she had saved was standing in the center of the bottom floor. It looked a bit rough, with blood matting its upper left arm, but it was standing just fine. Ranma flicked off the sword and used the clip on it to attach it to her belt before jumping down.
Rising to her feet she found the Wookiee standing before her. It looked a bit female now that she had time to really look at it. Certainly, it seemed to have mammaries, though who knew what that meant on an alien. Biology could get really strange on Earth, who knew how strange it would get in space?
The alien held out its, her(?), unblooded hand. Their hand was covered in fur and much larger than Ranma's. Ranma took the hand with her own and would later vehemently deny the squeak she let out as it effortlessly pulled her into a hung while grumbling something she didn't understand.
Well, this was different.
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Communication was quickly established after Dack's robot had tried and failed to sneak out only to be grabbed by the Wookiee she had saved. While it hadn't been cooperative, Ranma was given a front-row seat as the Wookiee demonstrated an intimate knowledge of how these robots worked. With the aid of tools taken from one of the unconscious Trandoshans, she flipped open the panels on the robot and did something that Ranma had a hard time following.
When the robot was turned back on it said something in a series of growls and barks to the Wookiee before turning to Ranma when the Wookiee pointed her way. It said something in another language.
"Hi?" Ranma said hesitantly as the Wookiee stood up and walked over to a wall panel by the nearest cage.
"My apologies," it said politely, "I am D8-3PO, Human Cyborg Relations. I have been informed that you are my new Mistress. May I have your name?"
She was? "Ranma Saotome," she replied, not bothering to correct the robot about her curse. She hadn't expected it to identify her as its owner, or was it just not allowed to acknowledge Wookiees as owners?
"Greetings, Mistress," It said, doing an awkward half-bow. Its joints seemed fairly limited in comparison to normal humans. "How might I assist you?"
There was a clatter as the gate of the first cell slid open and Wookiees within were released. They rushed out and immediately set upon the Trandoshans, stripping weapons and equipment from them. The Wookiee Ranma saved walked back to her as others rushed to the other cells and set to work on the doors. She spoke and D8 translated.
"I am Gralanna, a Wookiee from Kashyyyk."
"I am Ranma Saotome, from Earth," she replied.
The Wookiee growled something and nodded to her.
"She says, 'You saved my life. By the traditions of my people, I owe you a Life Debt.' Oh my, a Wookiee life debt is very important, Mistress," D8 said, "My protocols inform me that such things are considered sacred by Wookiees."
"What do you mean by a 'Life Debt'?" Ranma asked. This had better not be some Amazon-like thing. She really didn't need another Amazon entanglement.
"'Exactly as it says. I owe my life to you and must repay that debt through service. Until I feel my debt is fulfilled I will accompany you'," D8 translated.
"I didn't come here to save you. I'm here because they kidnapped Akane and Kasumi," Ranma said, a small embarrassed blush forming, "After that, I'm heading back down to home, not out into the stars."
"'Who are they to you? Family? Friends?'"
"... It's complicated," Ranma said, not wanting to get into her curse, "Prospective family and old family friends is the easiest way to describe it."
Gralanna grumbled. "'Then I will help you bring them home. We have much to repay these slavers for after all.'"
Ranma glanced around. Nearly all the cells were open, with only a handful damaged by the fighting remaining shut. Wookiees gathered at the railings. There had to be hundreds of them as she could see more peering over their companion's shoulders to look down at her.
"At the moment we're boarding the ship with the help of a handful of seized freighters," she said, "The pirates have fighters and more freighters trying to keep us out. We need to get more people here and we need to get the normal people off the ship. Can any of you fly a ship?"
To her surprise basically every Wookiee raised a hand.
"'Our lives are long. All of us learn eventually,'" Gralanna said, sounding a touch smug in her growls.
"Then I guess we need to introduce you to the soldiers so no one thinks to shoot you," Ranma said, "But first, step back." She unclipped her new sword and started toward the nearest stuck cell door. Wookiees stepped aside as those within stepped back to the wall. She ignited the blue blade and tested it against the bars of the cell. Acrid smoke wafted from the metal as it instantly melted.
With confidence, she slashed the door twice and stepped back as the bars fell away. Wookiees cheered and hooted as she moved from one damaged cell to the next, setting the last of the Wookiees free. As she did so the injured and unconscious Trandoshans were tossed into the still-functioning cells. It became really obvious how overcrowded the cells had been as even with over a hundred of the lizards the cell block still appeared spacious in comparison to how it had with the Wookiees.
Armed Wookiees gathered by the doors as several more approached Gralanna. Whatever was said in the growls and roars of their language went untranslated as D8 waddled over to Ranma's side.
"My apologies, Mistress," D8 said, "But they are speaking very quickly. They seem to be discussing their course of action."
"Which is…?" Ranma prodded her(?) robot.
It hesitated. "I'm not quite certain, Mistress. They are speaking too quickly to easily translate but it appears they are debating between all of them accompanying you and only Gralanna coming with you initially," D8 said.
Ranma nodded. "Tell them our radios are having issues working through the ship. If they stay here and people find them that aren't informed they'll have to convince them they aren't part of the crew. I can't promise they'll listen," she replied. D8 growled, getting the Wookiees attention before going off on a long series of sounds that honestly felt like they'd probably hurt to try for a human.
A short exchange occurred before D8 turned back to her. "Gralanna says that a large group approaching without warning could also be mistaken for hostile. She wishes to avoid such an incident," it said.
"Then we should go ahead and make contact, but they should probably move to the area around the stairs after a few minutes," Ranma said after thinking for a moment, "We just need to give the perimeter a heads up… and Mousse."
D8 conveyed that before turning back. "Mousse?"
"A… friend," Ranma said. For a very loose definition of the word. They were rivals, but somehow she didn't think that would reassure the Wookiees. "He's a lot quicker to be lethal than I am and nearly as skilled." The Wookiees discussed something before nodding. Gralanna spoke.
"They will accompany you as a group," D8 said. Ranma nodded.
"Then get everyone down here and we'll head back," she said. Growls and rumbling noises circled the cell block and the Wookiees sped up their preparations.
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Operating a computer console with its instructions written entirely in a different language, translated by a robot of questionable reliability, was neither easy nor simple. It was, if anything, exceptionally challenging. Thankfully for Lieutenant Mizusawa, he was not one of the more technically minded members of his platoon. Instead, it fell to Private Cho Tominaga.
The brown-haired young woman was mumbling curses as she examined the monitors of one console. She was spinning her sheathed bayonet in her free hand as she did so.
"Everything working out?" the Lieutenant asked.
"I have no idea, LT," she replied, her eyes fixed on one screen in particular, "This stuff is… Are we sure this is an alien ship? I haven't seen screens like this since I visited my grandmother. Hell, hers were in better condition." She slapped the side of a monitor that was spraying static and it snapped back to a clean image. "See? I'd open it up and see if I can fix it, but I'm afraid it'll be full of weird crystals or isolinear chips."
"And then we won't be able to operate the hangar," he said with a sigh. Distantly a shout of 'contact' went up followed by gunfire. He picked up his radio. "Toriyama report."
"Contact made with a group of slavers. Left hall," his second replied, "Two of them dead. We're dealing with the rest now." An explosion echoed from the doorway.
"Understood. Good work," he replied before turning back to Cho, "Any idea what they do?"
"Of course she knows what they do. I've been telling her what they are!" The robot head on the desk said with a huff of indignant anger.
"That doesn't tell me how it works!" she snapped, "Stupid machine. This thing is utterly insufferable, LT."
"How rude. See if I translate more for you now," it replied.
"I'll see if we can get a replacement," Mizusawa said with a sigh.
"More contacts!" a voice shouted. Oddly there was no sound of further gunfire added to the cacophony. His radio crackled after a moment.
"Saotome sighed. She has company, aliens… She's signalling they're friendly. Escaped prisoners," said Corporal Yuichi, "Damn there's a lot."
He scooped up his radio again, along with his rifle, and darted out the door. "Stay here," he ordered Cho as he hurried out the door, taking a moment to check the corners. This was still hostile territory despite the perimeter his men were holding. They didn't know all the little passageways that could be hidden in the ship. There had to be maintenance ways of some kind.
Corporal Yuichi was posted at the furthest right point of his platoon. A crossroad it was also the closest point to reinforcements as the Mousse kid had revealed. That meant it was a rather exposed position, but one they had to keep a hold of. They had moved crates to make cover, but it was still a dangerous post in the Lieutenant's opinion.
Arriving at the crossroad he found a familiar redhead and what looked like a yeti… a lot of yetis actually. As he looked down the hallway he could see dozens, possibly hundreds, of the furry aliens keeping to either side of the hallway. "Now what have you brought me this time, Saotome?" he asked, noting she had a robot by her side.
"Hey Lieutenant, I found the stairs up and then heard a commotion, so I followed it," Ranma said, before gesturing to the aliens, "The Wookiees here were trying to break out. Apparently they've been kept as slaves for a while and figured the commotion was an opportunity. It nearly got them killed when the ship's Captain showed up with a bunch of the lizard guys and superpowers."
"The ship's Captain?" Mizusawa asked, staring a bit. Haru ran a hand through his hair. "Did you get him?"
"No. He had telekinesis or something and used an energy sword," Ranma said, before tapping a strange cylinder on her hip, "I stole this one off him, but he had a spare."
"Gods…" The Lieutenant rubbed his forehead. Corporal Yuichi shook his head.
"Moments like this make me happy I'm not an officer, sir," the other soldier said.
"Keep thinking that way and someday the shit will reach you as well, Corporal," he replied dryly, getting a snort from Ranma and a grumble that might have been a laugh from the alien next to her after the robot translated. "So why are they here?"
"Most of them can pilot," Ranma replied, "Plus they seem to know their way around the alien's tech quite well, and they want to get back at the slavers."
He paused, then did a brief recount. There had to be three times as many of them as there were ships in the hangar, possibly more. "That's… One moment," he turned away and flicked his radio over to the command net. "Lieutenant Mizusawa to Major Sando, we've got a situation."
There was a moment of silence then a voice that was quite staticy. "Repeat… ast." He walked further down the hallway back toward the control room.
"Lieutenant Mizusawa to Major Sando, do you read?" he asked.
There was another moment. "I read you," came the voice of his commanding officer, "What's the situation?"
"Saotome just came back. She found the way up, but she's also brought a bunch of alien slaves back with her. 'Wookiees' she called them. There're a few hundred of 'em," he said.
"We don't have the room or manpower to look after non-humans," the Major replied.
"Yeah well, they're claiming they can pilot and know their way around the alien's tech," he added. He waited. They needed more pilots. They were barely holding their current perimeter with the rate of reinforcement. If they wanted to expand their hold they needed more ships in the air and technical support on the line.
"She's sure on them?" his superior asked finally.
"Do we really have a choice, Major?" he asked. He waited again.
"No. No we don't. Have Saotome bring them down here. We'll get them squared away and maybe we can start making some progress soon," the Major said with a groan, "We're barely over company strength here and I'm pretty sure there's an entire city of pirates and slavers just ready to come down on us. I suppose its better than just being flattened from orbit without any recourse."
"That it is, Sir," he replied, "Stepping out of range again."
"As you need, Lieutenant," she replied. He hurried back to the crossroads. The sound of raygun fire came from somewhere up the hall where the 'Wookiees' were.
"Saotome," he said as he stepped up, "Take them down to the Major. Path is that way, down the steps on the fifth door on the left." He pointed down the corridor.
"I can do that," Ranma said with a sigh, then waved for the aliens to follow her and started down the hallway.
The robot growled and grumbled something to the alien next to Ranma. It, or maybe she, growled something in reply and the robot turned to him.
"Gralanna says, 'Thank you'," it said in clear Japanese before waddling after Ranma.
"Get these boxes moved out of the way," Yuichi shouted at his men. They hurried to open a path through the defences for the aliens. "We come all this way to rescue our people from alien slavers, and the first ones we save are a bunch of aliens. How ironic is that?"
Haru laughed. "Very. But hopefully, this'll get us moving again," he said, patting the NCO on the shoulder before walking back toward the console room.
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"Unfortunately we don't have an accurate list of which ships have been captured," his second Johanna Mortkip said as she scrolled through a data slate. She had been quick to acknowledge him as Captain after he'd removed old Boccot's head. With a heavy build and a face that never stopped frowning she was no looker in his eyes, but her administrative skills had kept her around through four Captains of the Darkness Falls. Including him. "Furthermore, the IFFs haven't been changed. Between that and their pilots speaking our language?"
Dack hissed as the medical droid prodded his ribs. "Then seal the hangars," he said. If they couldn't tell which ships were theirs, they'd simply have to ward the rest away.
"We've already done that for the top level, but the forces already landed have taken over a series of maintenance bays. They found a half dozen E-Webs we had in storage there," she replied.
He scowled. "Then I'll have to deal with them," he said.
"With respect sir, they're using slugthrowers. As I understand it, Lightsabers are significantly less effective against those," she noted.
It was true. Lightsabers couldn't deflect bullets and if the rounds were large or heavy enough they'd continue straight through as molten spray. If they were explosive they'd simply go off the moment the blade touched the internal charge. That said.
"There are methods," he said, "Find a slab of metal the men can move. A hull panel of a Hawk would be ideal."
"I'll do that. Now, on the topic of hangars, the aft ventral hangar has reopened."
"They took the control room."
"Correct."
Dack growled, his temper flaring. "Shoot down any ships headed for the ventral hangar. Any word from the engineers?" Chief Engineer Kyle Hunter, an old bastard from when the ship was new, had shut down the main engines as part of a maintenance cycle once they hit orbit.
"Chief Engineer Hunter says the port engine is still halfway disassembled internally. It'll be nearly a day before he can turn it on. He also asks how we managed to get boarded by people without spaceships," she said with a dry delivery by the end.
"And the starboard engine?"
"Ready to start, but it's linked to the Port Engine. If it starts before they've finished reassembling the Port Engine we'll lose the Port Engine and possibly fry the Starboard engine as well."
Dack closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His hands twitched, ready to murder something, anything, as his temper flared. "Status of the gun batteries?" he finally asked.
"Four guns are down at present. Not due to damage, but due to lack of staff. That yellow jedi type took out the crews."
"Prioritise the laser batteries. We need to keep ships from docking and get our fighters back up here," he said, "They have to keep the HWKs from landing."
"We've lost nearly a quarter of our fighter complement already," Johanna said, "And the rest are either damaged, already low on munitions, or stuck in the hangars. We can't launch with six E-Webs covering the launch way for the port hangar."
He sighed. "I'm going to regret asking, but Wookiees?" he asked.
"Missing. Last seen moving toward the stairs down," she replied, "Boarder activity has increased along the perimeter."
He grumbled. Curse Rukt for dying. The Trandoshan had doubled as his ground forces commander. The Trandoshans themselves made great enforcers. Without them his crew was acting skittish. Yes, there were still quite a few of the aliens around, but there had to be less than fifty left across the entire ship in a condition to fight.
"Reinforce the slave pens. Once the boarders on the Hangar deck are dead we'll throw everything at them," he said.
-0-0-0-0-0-
"... death toll continues to climb as emergency responders continue their search across Europe. Meanwhile the alien assault has stalled out in east Asia as sources claim a counterattack is ongoing," the voice of a woman said in German, her voice fading in and out of audibility.
Garrit Jager listened with one ear as he stood on the back of a truck - whose tarp cover had been on the wrong end of several alien rayguns - watching the comings and goings of Niederstetten Air Base around them in the harsh floodlights of the early morning. Home of the 30th Transport Helicopter Regiment, it had become the de facto rally point for forces intended to support the boarding operations of the alien craft. Not just for Germanics, but everyone in the area after multiple major bases, including the American's Ramstein Air Base, had been wiped off the map in the earlier bombardments.
No one had gotten away unscathed as the alien's opening shots had slammed military bases from the Urals to Portugal. Along with everyone who lived even remotely nearby. Berlin had received little orbital fire, but had itself been subjected to raids along with many other major cities.
The truck rocked as someone climbed into the back. "Any word from command on when we're joining the assault?" the familiar voice of Sergeant Engel Kraus asked. He glanced back at his friend. The older man had his helmet under one arm as he nodded to him.
"Not yet," Garrit replied, "Only so much lift capacity at the moment."
"You mean stolen ships," Engel returned.
"I've heard rumours its more pilots they're short on than ships," Garrit said as he turned away from the overflowing air base. "The Japanese managed to get a good foothold by the sounds of it. Better than the American attempt anyways." That drew a small wince and a nod from the Sergeant. Rumours were already going around that a company of rangers had been dropped in a different hangar from the Japanese and promptly been cut off when the aliens shut the doors on them. What happened next was mostly speculation but the betting pools ran from horrible experiments to a running battle through the ship.
"Any word from your family?" his friend asked, changing the subject.
"They're fine. Amelia's school was near one of the raids, but she never so much as saw one of them," he said, before stifling a yawn. "Did you get that sleep I ordered?"
"All fifty minutes of it," Engel replied, "Helicopters are too damned loud."
He nodded and privately added 'unending' to that. No sooner did one land than another took off as the 30th ferried men and supplies to the base from all around the Fatherland. "I got some sleep myself, but they are very noisy," he agreed as he scanned the cluster of trucks making up the mostly intact 3rd company of the 26th Fallschirmjager's 2nd battalion.
The men and women were in the process of eating breakfast and checking over their equipment. Many of them looked as exhausted as he felt. They had clashed three times with raids before the aliens had moved on, only to get the order to assemble at Niederstetten. They'd driven for hours and now they waited for the orders.
"Captain Jager!" He glanced to the side as someone called his name. He spotted Lieutenant Weber as she jogged from the truck that was doubling as their communications tent.
He shared a look with Engel. "I'll get the men ready to move," the Sergeant said, stepping off the vehicle.
"Lieutenant," Garrit greeted as she climbed into the back of the truck.
"Captain, message for you, from command," she said, passing him a tablet.
He took the device and looked it over. He noted that she fidgeted as he read. "At ease, Lieutenant," he said, "It seems Command has remembered us. Get your section prepped for transport."
"Yes, sir," she said, saluting before leaving at a rapid pace.
Garrit stepped up to the back of the truck and raised a pair of fingers to his mouth. The sharp whistle cut through the low thrum of conversation. "Company, attention!" he shouted, sending more than one man to his feet in a hurry, "New orders! We're heading to space! Pass the word and get everything packed back up. We are to be on the tarmac in thirty minutes and waiting for thirty minutes. Lieutenants, I'll brief you in twenty. Move it!"
Twenty minutes later Garrit found himself standing on the bed of the same truck, the collection of Lieutenants and Sergeants looking up at him like a gaggle of hungry ducklings. "Our orders are fairly simple," he said, "We are being deployed to join the counterattack via stolen enemy dropships. Once in orbit we'll be taking further orders from a Major Sando of the JGSDF. Furthermore, we will be going up at the same time as 2nd Company and a collection of non-Bundeswehr personnel. Lieutenant Vogel, your men are going to be helping a…"
He glanced at the tablet. "Lieutenant Viginia Merriweather, of the Royal Navy. Her team from the HMS Prince of Wales will be setting up proper Air Traffic Control and she needs extra hands to help her move the equipment," he said, "Everyone else will be focused on our equipment. That includes second platoons. I don't want a single bullet left behind when we lift off. Am I clear?"
"Yes sir," was chorused.
"Any questions?" he asked. Hands went up. He pointed to Lieutenant Hartmann.
"What's the situation upstairs?" his second in command asked.
"Chaotic. Our news is coming secondhand via dropship, but Major Sando's forces have secured several levels and already identified where the hostages are," he said, "Enemy forces are superior in number, but like we saw yesterday present a very mixed threat. Discipline is poor, but they've got familiarity with the terrain, so don't let it go to your heads." The men nodded as most of the hands went down. He pointed to Vogel.
"I thought lift capacity was a major problem, where are we getting the ships for this?" Vogel asked.
"By luck, it seems our enemies keep taking capable aliens as slaves. The Japanese broke a group of what I'm told are quote 'basically a bunch of yetis' end quote, out of jail. They were quite eager to fly and provide their technical knowledge to the fight," Gerrit replied. A few hands still remained up. "I'm sure you'll think of further questions on the way. I'll answer on the radio while I can. Now," he glanced at his watch, "We've got six minutes until our flight is here. Get to your trucks, convoy is to move out immediately. Let's go, people."
With that his men scattered to their platoons and he joined Sergeant Engel in the truck cab. "Ready to be part of history, Captain?" his friend asked with a grin.
He chuckled. "We already were," he replied, "But let's try to leave the crazy 'history making' to the Americans. I'd rather we all come home alive."
"Yeah, so would I."
-0-0-0-0-0-
The room had once been a storage room for parts, robots and other tech pulled from the many ships the hangar dealt with. Now, it was being turned into a command center. A large table with a glowing top filled the center of the room as a trio of Wookiees worked on it. Their growls joined several others as they fiddled with other pieces of alien technology. Beside them military technicians were setting up the basics of a field command center.
Major Kasumi Sando dearly wished that it included proper radio communication, but there was little point in setting up something that couldn't be used. Radios worked in the ship but only for a short distance. The metal that made up most of the ship reduced most radio signals to nothing but noise after only a few rooms. Useful for squad level work, but increasingly less helpful the larger a group became.
"They say 'We should be done in a moment'," the robot at her side said. She nodded absently. Her mind was focused on the situation at large.
News had reached her of another boarding attempt in the ship's main hangars. An American assault team had been dropped off, only to promptly be rendered impossible to reinforce as the doors had shut. Like her group, they could still be alive, but it was just as likely they were dead. Still investigating their fate was another task on the long list of tasks before her.
Around the room the senior officers of her recent reinforcements were gathered. Captains Jager and Keller of the German 26th Fallschirmjäger were to the right, watching the aliens and technicians work with curious expressions. To her left was the tall, broad-shouldered Hispanic Captain Garcia of the US Army's 39th Infantry. Rounding out the group was her reinforcements from home, Captains Hada and Ohashi.
Well, rounded it out if she ignored the redhead sitting with the Wookiee in the corner, watching everything going on.
The Wookiee under the table pulled itself out and signalled another one. It pressed a button with a claw and the table sprang to life. A massive image of the vessel they were on appeared in shades of blue. It was transparent and she could see corridors and rooms inside. They were tiny compared to the ship itself.
"So this is what we're dealing with," Captain Gracia said as the large man stepped up to the holotable, "Thank you," he added to the Wookiee who growled some thanks as the robot translated. The Wookiee busied itself sealing up the table.
"And it's our job to take it," the Major said as she stepped forward, "Can we get a view of the lower levels?"
The Wookiee operating the table pressed several buttons and the image of the ship lost the outer hull before zooming in on the aft section of the ship. A single room beside what looked to be their hangar flashed repeatedly.
"Gentlemen, welcome to space," she said in English as the other officers and their subordinates crowded the table. She suspected that her mastery of the language was half the reason she had been selected for the job. "We've a lot to do and a lot of people to save, so let's get to work. We are here," she lifted a rod she'd taken off one of the shelves - it looked vaguely like a tension bar - and pointed to the hangar.
"Our control is mostly in the area around the hangar, up this staircase here and the elevator lobby on this floor," she continued.
"Not much to work with," Captain Keller said, his German accent heavy enough that she struggled to understand him.
"There are side passages, crawlspaces, and maintenance holes. Just sweeping the area is time consuming and we've lacked the people to hold a perimeter while others sweep," she said, "But that changes now. Captain Garcia, your people will take this staircase," she pointed to a group of steps leading down, "Clear out the storage rooms below us and make sure nothing is lurking down there."
"Shouldn't take long," he said, "You sure you want my entire company doing that?"
"More hands will make it go more quickly. Captains Hada and Ohashi, take your companies and finish sweeping this floor, and the next two floors up," she swept her makeshift pointer up through the hologram, "Captain Gracia's men will join you once they've finished their sweep. Leave guards at every maintenance passage we have yet to clear out fully. Anything that heads up into the rest of the ship needs to be locked down."
"Including the elevators, I assume," Hada said.
"I want large garrisons on any elevator found. The main one appears to run all the way to the top floor," she said.
"Hang on. If it runs to the top, then why can't we launch an assault on the bridge? Or the Hangars?" Garcia asked, crossing his arms.
"You mean beyond taking a lift straight into a trap?" Jager asked in turn. His accent was thankfully thinner than Kellers.
"Point, but we could build some sort of cover for the men. A bunker in the elevator as it were," Garcia said as he pantomimed a box in front of him.
"I have considered it, but an assault on the bridge would be throwing men straight into the heart of the enemies defences blind," Sando said, "That is coupled with several other priorities. Thanks to Ms. Saotome here," she nodded at the redhead in the corner who waved, "We know where the detention level is. Here." She highlighted a section of the ship that almost appeared to be a series of vehicle bays. "Though this doesn't seem to match your description, Saotome."
The redhead walked through the crowd of officers, who stepped back to let her forward with curious looks. They had to be wondering why a teenage girl was hanging about such a place. "Not even slightly. The entire area is cell blocks. Twelve cells long, three floors tall. At least in the doors I checked," she said, her English more heavily accented than Sandos, but still fairly understandable.
"They must have made changes post-construction," Garcia noted, "Not unusual for a pirate ship." Officers nodded. "Though, why do we know this from a young girl? What are you doing here?"
"Ms. Saotome," the Major interjected, "Is the sole reason any of us are here. She and her friends captured the first dropship and are largely responsible for our progress thus far. Without them we would likely still be fighting for the hangar." Or dead. She noted the many incredulous looks she received.
"I find that difficult to swallow, but we're fighting aliens, so sure. I'll bite," Garcia said, "Anything else, Major?"
"Yes. She's also how we know the Captain is a telekinetic and we have the assistance of the Wookiees here. She freed them earlier," she continued, "But our plans will not hinge on her assistance. Captain Keller and Captain Jager shall sweep and clear the cell blocks. Gralanna here," she gestured to the Wookiee beside Saotome, "has offered her people's aid with the alien security. I hope that won't be an issue?" The two men shook their heads.
"It'll be nice to have aliens on our side for once," Captain Jager said, "We'll need translation help, however."
"Each Wookiee is being paired with a protocol robot," she replied, "It seems they kept a storage room of them one floor up. The Wookiees have been resetting their command ID records." She ignored the 'oh my' from the Protocol Robot to her right. "For now focus on securing the area. We don't have the room to keep them down here nor the ability to guarantee their safety. Once the detention levels are secure we can see about giving them more freedom, but make sure they understand our orders are to hold off on sending people home until we've disabled the guns. If anyone is in medical distress release them and see them brought to the aid station here." She pointed to another room not far from the hangar.
"Any questions?" She looked around.
"What about the other assault team? Or the engine room? Securing the detention center won't matter much if the ship flies away," Garcia asked.
"Or the guns. Every second they're not working for us, they present a danger to our reinforcements," Captain Jager said, "Not to mention I'm suspicious as to why they haven't sealed our hangar yet."
Gralanna growled something as the robot translated. "She says, 'Hangar, blast door and airlock controls are localised only to prevent droids from venting the atmosphere on most vessels after getting access to the main system."
"Smart," Hada muttered in Japanese.
"That contextualises a few things. Are the guns the same?" Ohashi asked. They apparently were.
"According to the Wookiees," Sando said, "the port engine is partially disassembled at present. It seems that our hosts were confident enough we couldn't get up here, they started a maintenance cycle on one of their most important systems. Lucky us." A few chuckled. "Simply put though, we have time. We don't need to rush the engines quite yet. In fact, I imagine that the powers that be would like them to be as close to intact as they can be before we take them over."
"So we have time before they can run. In that light securing the hostages does become the highest priority, but again, what about the assault team?" Garcia asked.
"They're on the other end of the ship, both vertically and in length," Hada said, "Show the full ship please?" The Wookiee took a moment but a moment later the full hologram appeared again. "According to the eggheads, this ship is nearly nine hundred meters long. It is over a hundred tall and closer to two hundred wide than not. It's an arcology in all but name. If we want to go from here we're going to have to find our way down the length of a ship we don't control. Up through floors of manned defences in terrain that we don't know well at all. Any force that's large enough to help is too big to do so quietly. Anything small enough to take advantage of being quiet is too small to help. It's hard to hear, but those men are dead. Even if they haven't died yet."
"Assuming they're that far out," Garcia said, "We don't know where they are up there."
"Which is another issue. Anyone going up there would have to search. It would be a blind hunt in hostile terrain," Ohashi said. The other Japanese nodded. The two Germans looked resigned as they nodded in agreement.
"I could find out," Ranma said abruptly as she eyed the ship. Sando shot her a look.
"That's far away from where the people you're here to save are," she noted.
"They're not saved until we're off the ship," the redhead replied, "Besides, letting a bunch of guys die when they tried to help doesn't sit right with me."
"Excuse me? You can't be seriously considering this," Garcia said, looking at them.
"Like you can stop me from going if I want to, beside, who else is willing to stick their neck out?" Ranma asked the room of suddenly uncomfortable looking soldiers, "Gralanna, can you get a map ready? We're probably going to need it." The Wookiee in question made a positive sounding rumble.
"I'd like to make on objection to this course of action for the record," Garcia said, "This should be our men doing this, not a teenage girl."
"Noted. Saotome, take one of the communicators the Wookiees dug out of this mess. They claim they'll work through the ship just fine," she told the redhead. The girl nodded and glanced at Gralanna who also nodded once Sando's words were translated. "Good. Now, if we're done with the objections and questions, you're all dismissed."
Garcia nodded to her with a scowl before the American turned and left. She shook her head. They didn't have the forces to spare yet. Maybe once a couple thousand more troops arrived, but until then it was going to be tight. The rest of the officers filed out, each Captain taking a communicator from the Wookiees along with a page of handwritten instructions on its use, in english.
Soon, it was her and her staff along with the Wookiees and Saotome.
One of the Wookiees operating the holotable growled something. Several more of them glanced over as the robot translated, "There is something odd here."
"What do you mean?" Sando asked as Ranma glanced up as well.
"Here." The Wookiee pointed to several large open spaces beneath the main hangar.
"Yess?" Sando asked, not seeing that point.
"Oh," Ranma said as her mind jumped to some sort of conclusion.
"What is it?" she asked with a touch of irritation.
"They're vehicle bays, aren't they?" Ranma asked. The Wookiee nodded.
"'At least on this' he says," the Robot said.
"... which means there could be more cell blocks. Damn it. Saotome, I hate to ask but could you make a detour and check for more cell blocks?" the Major asked while worrying her lip. To her relief the boy turned girl nodded and shrugged.
"I can do that," she said, "Not that much of a detour."
"Gods help us. If those are also full then we could be dealing with tens of thousands more hostages," Sando said. Getting them off the ship was going to be a nightmare. Hells, protecting them would be a nightmare.
Ranma looked slightly pale at the thought, but she decided to leave her at that. Giving her thanks to the Wookiee, Sando stepped out into the hangar.
The air was warm from the heat of ships coming and going. Their engines scorching the air. More men were unloading from transports on the left hand side of the room. Dozens more. Possibly hundreds. Soon she'd have to brief another Captain or maybe a Major. With a bit of luck a Colonel could arrive and take over the operation.
Maybe they'd send a general.
She snorted. As if she was that lucky.
"Major Sando?" A female voice addressed her in English.
She glanced up as a young woman greeted her. The Major glanced at her collar and uniform. She looked to be from the UK's Navy which meant those two bars with a loop meant… Ah. "Lieutenant Merriweather, is everything going well?" she asked the brown-haired woman.
"We've established air traffic control," the young Lieutenant of the Royal Navy said, "And we've set up the satellite link that was sent with us." She gestured down the hangar toward the massive doors. Sando peered toward the door…
"Is that a satellite dish on a pole?" she asked as she spied the ripple in the hangar shield where the hastily welded-together contraption passed through into space.
"Erm, yes," Lieutenant Merriweather said sheepishly, "But it works and we have a live connection. At least for now. They wish to speak with you, Major."
She sighed. "Who wants to speak with me?" she asked with a feeling of dread.
"Everyone, ma'am," the Lieutenant said.
She stared at Merriweather. "What do you mean, everyone?" She asked, gesturing for her to lead the way.
"It's a conference call, ma'am. A very, very large conference call," Merriweather said.
"With…?"
"Everyone. It's probably shorter to list who isn't waiting for you, ma'am."
She wasn't getting a general to come up here, was she?
-0-0-0-0-0-
There were times when Dr. Dylan Arbuckle questioned his career choice. Usually, it occurred after an experiment went particularly awry. Hanging onto the handles behind the seat where a large furry alien was piloting an equally alien craft into the upper atmosphere on the way to a war zone just so he could get a look at even more alien technology in person…
He wasn't sure if this was the best decision of his career or the worst.
"Flight Alpha-2 to Orbital ATC, do you read?" the co-pilot, a very ordinary US Air Force pilot, asked into the bulky radio that had been mounted to the side of his station.
The big alien grumped something and the oddly human robot beside it said, "'You'll need another minute.'"
"Yeah, I figured," the pilot grumbled, which was passed onto the alien by the robot, "You hanging in there alright Doc? Sure you don't want to go back with the rest of your DARPA pals?"
"I'd rather have the view," Dylan replied, as he stared up through the skylight that doubled as a viewport for the raised pilot seats. He could see little flashes of light in the far distance if he leaned back a little.
"Then hold on. We're likely to get a little bumpy."
Dylan wrapped his arm tighter around the bar. He could feel the ship accelerating as the lights above got brighter. Flashes of light flew from the largest shape he could see, the enemy vessel. Only a few flashes of light struck back. Instead, they seemed to be firing at darting vessels that swarmed in the space around the alien mothership.
"Flight Alpha-2 to Orbital ATC, do you read?" The co-pilot tried again.
After a moment he received a reply, "This is Orbital ATC, Flight Alpha-2 acknowledged. What do you need?"
"A landing spot. We're carrying DARPA and Red Cross personnel and supplies and request a priority landing spot, over," he said.
"Request noted, Alpha-2. Flight Alpha-3 is currently launching. Please keep your distance until they're clear," the ATC replied.
"Understood ATC," the co-pilot said before flipping a switch, "Flight lead to all pilots, Alpha-3's fat ass is blocking the hangar. Keep your distance until they waddle out of the way." A flurry of acknowledgements came from the rest of the five dropship Flight.
The 'Wookiee' let out a chuffing noise as the robot translated that colourful bit of imagery. The view soon turned away from the battle and soon the Earth appeared. Dylan's breath caught for a second as the blue orb passed their view. He never thought he'd have a chance to see this view.
"Ain't that a sight," the co-pilot said with a grin, "Guess one good thing came out of all this."
Dylan nodded, then grabbed tighter to the handlebar as the ship abruptly rolled and accelerated. He heard a few curses from behind as some speaker in the cockpit started emitting a staccato of electric barks from somewhere above and behind them.
Then he saw the green energy bolts fly over their cockpit.
The alien growled and roared.
"He says 'five Reliable-Class fighters from the ship'. We seem to be under attack," the Robot said.
"Shit," the Co-pilot grabbed his radio, "Flight Alpha-2 to Orbital ATC, we are taking fire from enemy fighters. Count five, that is zero-five, enemy Reliable-class fighters." Something down and forward let out a 'kwark kwark kwark'. A moment later Dylan spotted one of the curved whale-like fighters trailing flames and smoke into the void as it broke off from the fight.
"Orbital ATC to Flight Alpha-2, understood. Alpha-3 has cleared the bay. You are cleared for approach. Please land on the right side of the hangar. Flight Delta-1 is vectoring to assist," was the calm reply from the ATC.
"Understood," the co-pilot said as the ship shook. The Wookiee grumbled something.
"'Shields holding at seventy percent'," the Robot said. Then an alarm started screaming and the acceleration slammed on hard enough to slam Dylan against the wall. "'Hold tight. Going evasive'," it continued as the Wookiee roared.
The co-pilot grabbed at his console as the view above corkscrewed and spun. One of the speakers let out an explosion sound as the ship shook and the alarms fell silent. The Wookiee tapped its own mike and rumbled something that sounded vaguely pleased.
"'Thank you Alpha-2-2' he says," the Robot translated, ignoring the look the Wookiee gave it before snorting.
"Alpha-2 Flight Lead to all Alpha-2 birds, we are clear to land. Keep right as we land and pick a good spot," the co-pilot said, "Keep your eyes peeled. Flight Delta-1 is coming."
The laser cannons let out further 'kwarks' as the freighter danced. Dylan clung to the handlebar as best he could, but the experience was one of banging, crashing, and general bruising as he was battered against the hard metal. An explosion echoed distantly in the speakers.
"'Second down'," the robot translated.
The next few minutes were a blur as Dylan hung on for dear life. Flashes of those strange alien weapons - they couldn't be lasers - darted in and out of view. Missile lock alarms blarred twice more, but amounted to little more than a shaken ship. Finally, a voice came over the radio.
"Flight Lead Delta-1 to Alpha-2 Lead heads up." Several explosions rang out immediately thereafter and then the sounds of fighting stopped.
"Alpha-2 Lead to Delta-1 Lead, thanks for the hand," the Co-pilot said, "Mind running escort while we fly in?"
"That's what we're here for," came the reply.
"Thanks. Flight Lead to all Pilots, make for the hangar. Alpha-2 to Orbital ATC, we have two birds hit…" Dylan let go of the handlebar and walked out the door of the cockpit into the back.
"Everyone good?" he asked as he stepped into the cargo hold.
"Alejandro's got a few cuts, but he should be fine," Dr. Trista Ward said as the old veterinarian tied off a bandage she was applying to Dr. Alejandro Rodriguez. The thirty-five-year-old high-energy physicist and robotics expert winced.
"Do you need to tie it so tight?" he grumbled as the older woman gave him a sharp look.
"You're lucky I'm even bothering to do this," she replied, "I'm a veterinarian, not a people doctor."
Dylan chuckled and glanced about the rest of his team. The other members of the twelve man team seemed fine enough. A few of them were examining a stack of fallen boxes. "Anything broken?"
"Hopefully not. One of our spectroscopes is in here," Dr. Henry Chang said. The third generation Chinese Canadian - and more importantly expert metallurgist and geologist - glanced up from where he was cracking open one of the boxes. "Looks good so far. But the real test will be plugging it into one of the generators."
"I really hope we can syphon power off the ship," Dr. Rodgriguez said, "Otherwise we're going to be really limited."
"We'll just have to see how it goes. They might not even use electricity like we do," Dylan said as he found a seat. "If you're wondering what happened, we got jumped. Everything seems fine now." He certainly wasn't going to forget the experience of having a front row seat to a dogfight in space.
Honestly, who had dogfights in this day and age? They had spacecraft and the best they could do was a few energy canons and some sort of poorly manoeuvrable missile. Where were the thousand-mile stand-off weapons? The railguns? Micro-missiles? It was disappointing, though he'd admit he'd take it as it was if it meant he'd live. Don't correct your enemy when they're making a mistake and all that.
He helped his team get settled even as the ship rattled and soon enough the sound of deploying landing gear echoed through the ship. A few moments later the rattling thunk of the ship's landing gear echoed as they touched down. He was out of his seat instantly.
"Grab crates and bags. No one leaves the ship without at least two items," He ordered, putting action to words as he lifted a toolbox from the stack and tossed his own bag over his shoulder.
The door to the crew cabin slid open and the co-pilot stepped out. "Everyone alive back here?" he asked.
"We're good. Thanks for the ride," Dr. Rodriguez said as he stood up carefully, "Just try not to get hit next time, will ya?"
The co-pilot chuckled. "Great to hear, now get off the ship. I'm sure there's a group of marines or something somewhere you'd love to have come up and join you lot," he said as he walked across the room and hit the button for the ramp.
"Give us a few minutes and we'll be out of your hair," Dylan said as he climbed down the ramp.
His first impressions of the alien ship were… Well, it smelled. Like smoke, oil, mold and worse mixed into an oddly pungent but not quite stomach-roiling bouquet. The lighting wasn't the greatest either with some sections of the unusually large room cast into a dim gloom.
Several men wearing US Army uniforms ran up, one of them pushing a large cart. "You're the DARPA team?" one of them, a man with a corporal's tags on his collar, asked.
"Doctor Dylan Arbuckle, nice to meet you," he said, offering a hand to the Corporal who took it.
"Corporal William McDonald, US Army," he replied, "Drop your stuff on the cart. We need to clear the pad as fast as possible."
"Maybe something a little more delicate than drop? Some of this stuff is actually fragile and we've already taken fire on the way in," Dylan cautioned.
The Corporal snorted. "You and everyone else," he said as he waved his guys forward.
Dylan put the toolbox down on the cart with his bag and went back to grab more. As they worked quickly he caught glimpses of other ships doing the same thing with all the hurry of men fighting time itself. Finally the co-pilot stepped down the ramp.
"That's everything," he told the army guys.
"Hey!" Dylan called, "I never got your name." The co-pilot looked over.
"Major Brandon Shepard, US Air Force. Stay safe Doc," he said.
"Same to you," Dylan replied before the younger man retreated into his ship and the ramp closed. Dylan hurried off the pad to his team and the waiting soldiers. "Alright, is there a place already set aside for us, or are we being shuffled to a central spot for now?" he asked the Corporal.
"The Major ordered a maintenance bay set aside for you. This way, Doctor," Corporal McDonald said, gesturing down the side of the room.
"Lead the way," Dylan said, waving for him to take the lead. "Come along everyone. "Trista, keep an eye on Alejandro."
"Just so long as you don't expect me to hold him up," she replied with a smirk, "I've put my hands on him more than I like."
The injured doctor placed a hand to his chest with a hurt expression. "And here I thought we had something, Trista," he said with a very exaggerated accent, "Instead you once again stab me in the heart." Dylan snorted.
They exchanged a few more jabs as he turned his attention to their surroundings. The hangar was quite dirty with blood stains and haphazardly stacked boxes filling some of the landing pads. What struck him, however, was how industrial things looked. Peering at many items he could easily see equivalents in their own technology. If anything, most of what he saw seemed almost outdated. He was sure that when they had a chance to peel it apart they would be anything but, and yet something felt a bit odd about the alien technology.
It was probably just the contrast to Hollywood's portrayal of the future constantly having smooth and shiny designs.
"Here we are, Doctors," Corporal McDonald said as they reached a large bay big enough to fit two of the dropships they had seen. Inside he could see several more of the large Wookiees directing a group of soldiers as they prepared the space.
"Thank you, Corporal. We'll get set up right away," he said.
"Bit of a dump isn't it?" a familiar voice asked and he glanced over to see the second DARPA team approaching from the opposite way. At their head was a woman with dark blonde hair pulled up in a bun and an amused glint in her eyes as she examined the maintenance bay.
"Natalie," he greeted her. It wasn't the first time he and the Doctor of Theoretical Astrophysics, and one of the world's leading theorists on faster-than-light travel, had worked together.
Hopefully, they wouldn't drive each other crazy this time as well.
"Dylan," she replied with a nod, "What do you say, your team takes the right, my team takes the left? We figure out who tears apart what after we've got the gear stored away?"
He examined the space with a careful eye and nodded. "Sounds good. Let's go introduce ourselves."
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The attack had ended a while ago. Soun had left to attend to his responsibilities as a City Councilor which left Genma with the responsibility of cleaning up the backyard. With a broom.
Slowly.
It wasn't like he was in a hurry to have nothing to do and sweeping debris out of the grass with a broom was a challenging enough activity to keep him halfway invested. It gave him time to wonder about the boy. His eyes turned toward the sky, making sure not to stare at the sun, and he wondered if he should have gone with him. He was his son after all.
Then he'd shake his head and get back to work. Ranma would be fine.
"... More commandeered alien vessels have been seen landing at military bases across the globe."
Nabiki had been listening obsessively to the news broadcast with what he could only call uncharacteristic worry. The middle sister was normally fairly unflappable. Under better circumstances he would have found her behaviour amusing.
If he wasn't also looking up to the sky with worry.
Genma shook his head and went back to sweeping. He didn't need to worry. Ranma would be fine. He had confidence in Ranma. He was sure letting the boy go by himself was fine.
He pulled his gaze from the sky again and returned to sweeping.
He failed to realise he'd been sweeping the same spot for the last half an hour.
-0-0-0-0-0-
Mizusawa had no issues handing over control of the hangar to the ATC crew when the British woman and her team arrived. They were infantry, not air force. It had given him and his men a chance to fall back to the hangar, rearm and get some food. Then the Major had dispatched them to the front again working alongside a Captain Keller as her personal eyes and ears.
Now if only his German accent wasn't so thick.
Mizusawa's English was passable enough, but the Captain's accent made understanding him difficult. He got the impression it was the same in the other direction.
Clearing their way through the cell blocks was horrible. Their orders were to secure the three levels of the detention facility, but not to release the civilians quite yet. That wasn't going to happen until they had all ingress and egress points secured, and likely the next two levels above the detention facility.
The prisoners they were finding were quite the mixed groups. Sometimes there would be only a single person in a cell block. Other times there would be five, or ten, or as many as twenty. It gave him the impression that the slavers had just shoved people into their cells at random. People from Brazil, or Spain, or South Africa jammed together with Americans and Germans and Frenchmen and Japanese and Koreans and- Well, everyone.
It made him thankful for the Protocol Robot that had been assigned to his platoon.
"... We understand that you're scared and want to go home, but until we've secured more of the ship the safest place for you is in here. If anyone has any medical issues or is hungry please let someone know," he said for the tenth time to a crowded room of kidnap victims. He waited as the robot repeated his words in nearly a dozen different languages. Gods, they needed a better system than this, but unfortunately a lot of people didn't speak English or Japanese.
"Lieutenant!" He peered over the railing of the second level to see Corporal Yuichi run into the room. "Sir, we've got something you need to listen to."
"Be there in a moment," he said before turning to Sergeant Toriyama, "Finish up here, I'll be back soon."
"Yes sir," Toriyama replied as he hurried down the steps and followed the Corporal out of the cell block. The Corporal's fire team had been sweeping a storage room between cell blocks, but now they were gathered in the hall with their weapons trained on a Protocol Robot.
"Mind explaining why you're holding a robot at gunpoint?" he asked.
"Greetings, I am-" the robot started only to stop as he held a hand up in its face. Mizusawa stared at Corporal Yuichi.
"He came out of a hidden passageway sir," the Corporal replied, pointing to a section of blank wall. The Lieutenant peered at the wall.
"Please if you just let me speak," the Robot said. Mizusawa finally turned to the robot.
"You mean give you a chance to explain that you work for our enemies?" he asked.
"To explain that I am here with a message from my master, Chief Engineer Jallo Javand," the robot said, "He wishes to open discreet communications with the commander of your forces."
Lieutenant Mizusawa's eyebrows rose. The Chief Engineer wanted to talk? "Fractures in the ranks already," he muttered before fishing out the communicator the Wookiees had handed out. After a moment of fiddling with it let out a series of beeps. That repeated several times before a blue see through hologram. It was heavy with visible lines that made the image poorer, but he could recognize the Major.
"Lieutenant, what's the situation?" she asked, her voice grainy through the alien tech.
"Major, we've got an opportunity here. My men have come across a Protocol Robot that is claiming to have been sent by this ship's Chief Engineer with a message of 'discreet communications'," he said. The image made it hard to tell if she was as surprised as he was.
"That's… Lieutenant, have one of your squads escort the robot down here," she said after a moment.
"Understood." He looked up at Corporal Yuichi. "You heard her, get it downstairs." If this was an honest offer, then it was going to change everything.
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A/N: Heyo everyone~ No skit this time. Gekkou is feeling a little… tired… I believe she described it as "i have the energy levels of a 5 year old in need of a nap in a heat wave." So sadly my dear editor is trying to fight off the sandman, but! That doesn't mean you don't get words~ Had words. Technically, since I doubt you didn't read this before hitting the A/N.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter~ Finally got back to this story after far too long ;-;
A thanks to my patrons for their support and remember you can find my discord server in my signature (at least if you're on space battles or sufficient velocity).