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Chapter Text

“Where the hell is he?!” The source of the snarled, furious exclamation into the canteen aboard Rhodes Island was a very angry Archosauria woman. Her amber eyes scoured the room of nervous occupants before settling on a familiar purple-haired Vulpo woman enjoying a very elaborately constructed hot dog. “Dur-nar! Where is he?”

“Not here,” Dur-nar replied, giving an annoyed look in response. “How do you keep losing your patient, Gavial?”

“He keeps getting up and leaving without permission!”

“Have you considered sedating him?”

“Yes, actually!”

“Then do so, but he’s not here,” Dur-nar said with a note of finality, taking a bite of her hot dog.

Gavial let out an irritated noise—more at the fact that she had still not found her target than at Dur-nar’s dismissal of her. The fact that her quarry was the mutual link who had established an actual friendship for her in the Vulpo instructor certainly contributed to her annoyance. She stalked angrily through the corridors of Rhodes Island to continue her search, gaining a wide berth due to her grumbling and snarling.

While she did not find the one she sought, someone else did appear in her field of view as a convenient target. “Hey! Kroos! Where is he?!” she snapped.

Kroos, a sniper of the rabbit-eared Cautus race, tilted her head curiously at Gavial. “Where is… whom, Doctor Gavial?” she asked.

“Striker! Or Ranma! Whatever you want to call him!”

“I’m afraid I don’t know where Instructor Striker is at the moment,” Kroos replied mildly. “I haven’t seen him for at least an hour when he dropped in on our lessons with Instructor Dobermann to see how we were doing and she chased him away with her whip.”

“Dammit, where is he…”

“Hasn’t he gotten a new terminal?” Kroos asked. “Why not ask PRTS to find him for you?”

There was a moment of silence in the hallway as Gavial considered the option. “That’s actually not a bad idea,” she muttered. Kroos was swiftly forgotten—and made a swift retreat—as Gavial pulled out her own terminal. “Hey, PRTS, does Ranma have his terminal?”

“Operator Striker is in possession of his PRTS terminal link,” the feminine voice of the Rhodes Island computer system responded.

“What are his vitals right now?”

“Querying remote link and diagnostic monitor. Heart rate is currently 63 beats per minute. Blood pressure is 107 over 72. Blood-oxygen level registering at 97%. Originium assimilation levels remain at 0%. Blood originium crystal density levels are 0.03 units per liter. Brain activity registering as standard for Operator Striker. He appears to be eating.”

“Eating? But he wasn’t at the canteen…”

“Correct.”

Gavial rolled her eyes. “Where is Operator Striker right now?”

“Operator Striker is outside of brig cell Bravo.”

Gavial put her terminal away, marching rapidly for the brig area. Cell Bravo was a specially reinforced one that had been made for a very special prisoner, though to be honest, Gavial wasn’t sure if that person really was a prisoner except by their own volition. The immensely powerful Draco, Talulah, former leader of the Infected movement known as Reunion, had made no attempts to escape despite the fact that she could likely tear her cell apart with her bare hands and then simply burn a path to freedom over the incinerated corpses of anyone foolish enough to try to stop her.

Gavial’s own patient, Ranma Saotome, who was apparently outside that cell, was one of the few people who might be able to stop Talulah, and even then, he was still recovering from injuries she had inflicted the last time they had fought. Those injuries included a femur that had been snapped in half as well as severe burns on his neck. Gavial wondered just what could compel him to decide to eat right outside of the woman’s very cell.

Her annoyance very nearly doubled as she entered the brig to find him standing rather than even sitting down. In his hands, he held a cardboard bowl of instant noodles that advertised itself as a spicy beef flavor, and his eyes darted over to her as she entered. Apparently, she had caught him right as he was taking a long sip of broth. Next to him, holding a similar cardboard bowl but of spicy chicken, was a black haired woman who was also, technically, Gavial’s patient. She was also, more recently, apparently Ranma’s girlfriend now. Blue eyes blinked in slight puzzlement at Gavial as the slender, pretty Liberi woman was in the middle of slurping up some noodles.

Opposite them and flanking the cell door were two other women. One was a dark-haired Lung woman wearing a black jacket and shorts and apparently enjoying “extra spicy” beef noodles. The other was another patient Gavial had assisted with, though who was not technically hers, a white-haired Cautus woman who was completely ignoring everyone else taking notice of her to continue enjoying her “extra spicy” miso noodles.

Finally, in the cell itself, and looking as though she were unsure of reality in any form or fashion anymore, was a white-haired Draco woman holding a spicy beef noodle bowl not unlike Ranma’s, as well as a pair of chopsticks that she was using to awkwardly hold a bunch of broth-dripping noodles.

“You have to be kidding,” Gavial muttered. “So you get all your girlfriends here, grab some spicy instant noodles, somehow make them, and bring them here to our prisoner, and somehow nobody thought to stop you and send you back to Medical or alert me to what you were doing?”

Cantabile, the Liberi woman, blinked as she chewed her noodles and swallowed them. “I thought you told her, Miss Ch’en,” she said to the Lung woman.

Ch’en shook her head, pointing at the Cautus woman. “Yelena was supposed to tell her.”

“None of her business,” Yelena concluded, draining her cardboard bowl of broth. “More, please,” she asked Ranma.

“You’ll have to go to the canteen for more. Or requisition the bowl packs with the supply team,” Ranma said.

“And you could at least be sitting down right now!” Gavial said, beginning to walk toward Ranma with her hands outstretched. “I’m going to kill you if you keep this up!”

“Seriously, I don’t know why you’re always yelling at me all the time lately,” Ranma muttered. “So I’m up and walking around, what’s the big deal?”

“Big deal? Big deal?!” Gavial stopped her advance to slap her forehead. “The big deal is that you shouldn’t be standing or walking without at least some kind of assistance, like a crutch or even a cane! For pity’s sake, we had to put pins in your leg to set the bone!” In the cell, Talulah flinched back at the reminder of what she had inflicted.

“Oh, that’s what those were,” Ranma mused thoughtfully, before draining the last of the broth in his bowl of noodles.

“Yes, that’s what those were,” Gavial said with a sigh. “So if you could please at least stay in bed until—wait, what do you mean ‘were?’”

Ranma apparently found the ceiling suddenly much more interesting than his conversation with Gavial. “Well, you know what, it was fun having this get together but I should get back to bed now!”

“Saotome,” Gavial growled. “If I take an X-ray of your broken leg, am I going to find out that you removed the pins from it yourself?”

“Look, the bone was basically healed and the pins were really starting to irritate me!” Ranma said, backing away rapidly in search of an exit. “Glk!”

Further protest was silenced with a growl as Gavial bodily lifted Ranma by his throat and began carrying him out that way. “We’ll just see about that,” the medic muttered under her breath.

“I told you so,” Ranma said, smirking as he reclined back in his bed. Cantabile and Yelena were also present, with Cantabile having taken a seat next to Ranma’s bed, while Yelena was happily eating another bowl of extra spicy noodles. Ch’en had apparently chosen to stay behind with Talulah.

The source of Ranma’s smugness was the X-ray photograph of his leg. True to what the martial artist had claimed, the bone was almost completely healed, with only a tiny hairline fracture still remaining. His ribs had also nearly completely mended.

“I don’t get it,” Gavial muttered as she examined the X-rays. “Humans just don’t heal this fast. We weren’t even using Arts because your injuries were too severe to risk accelerated healing.”

“I’ve always been a fast healer,” Ranma said. “Been a while since I got that messed up but usually I’m back on my feet in just a few days. But even Saffron didn’t get that bad.”

“Didn’t that ‘Saffron’ fight result in those puncture wounds on your torso you mentioned?” Gavial asked.

“Still wasn’t busted ribs and a snapped femur.” Ranma scratched at his nose in thought. “I’ve gotten a lot stronger since the last time I got that badly hurt. So stronger ki probably means faster healing.”

“‘Probably,’” Gavial said flatly.

“It’s not an exact science and the all of two grandmasters I know aren’t exactly around for me to confirm with them,” Ranma replied. “This is a good thing anyway. It means I’ll be back on my feet in no time.”

Gavial stared at the medical readout, then back at Ranma. He could see her brow furrowing in thought, before she finally sighed. “Alright. Look. I’ll make a deal with you,” she said. “I will relax our usual medical procedures regarding confinement in a special exception for you. Meaning, if you want, yes, you can get up and go visit Talulah in the cell or peek in on the trainees or whatever.”

“Well you mentioned a deal so I guess this is where I havta do something,” Ranma replied cautiously.

“You have to tell someone. You can’t just get up and leave if we’ve confined you to bed because we’ve usually done that for a reason.”

“And that reason is usually because you want to make sure I’m healing properly, right?”

“Exactly. Now, if you tell one of us, and we do an examination, and find out you’re healing faster than we expected, then maybe we can make those special exceptions I mentioned. But we still want to do so with consideration to your condition. For instance, you still have a hairline fracture in your femur. Until that completely heals, I would really appreciate it if you would at least use a cane or crutch to avoid complications with it.”

“That seems… fair enough,” Ranma conceded.

“Also, if you get this badly beaten up again, I’m finishing you off so that I don’t ever have to worry about you again,” Gavial added in a flat tone.

“I’m not agreeing to that.”

“Neither am I,” Cantabile chimed in.

“Damn, worth a shot,” Gavial grumbled. “Anyway, just please check in with us before you go wandering around the landship, at least before we officially discharge you as fully recovered.”

“Alright, Gavial, I promise I’ll check in with medical staff before I leave,” Ranma swore. “Don’t wanna worry you more than I already have.”

“Look on the bright side, Saotome, at the rate you’re healing, as long as you don’t have another huge fight with Talulah, you’ll be in tip top shape for the Obsidian Festival when we get to Siesta.”

“The what when we get where?”

“Siesta. It’s a small nation, literally just a single city-state, near Columbia. It’s a volcanic peninsula resort destination,” Gavial explained. “The Doctor apparently figured we deserved some vacation time after the incident with Chernobog and Lungmen.”

“Ah, a beach?” Ranma said, slightly annoyed. “I guess it could be worse…”

“Got a problem with beaches?”

“Besides the temperature of the water at ‘em…”

Yelena blinked, setting down her empty noodle bowl. “What about water temperatures?” she asked.

“Oh, huh, you never told her?” Gavial asked. “Well, not my place to spill your secrets.”

Ranma rolled his eyes, addressing Yelena. “Short version, I have a curse. A splash of cold water turns me into a girl, hot water turns me back to normal.”

“You’re joking,” Yelena replied, frowning.

“I’ve seen the transformation myself,” Cantabile said. “It’s a complete change. He even changes hair colors.”

“Absolutely not joking,” Ranma said with a sigh. “A beach trip means I’m stuck as a girl if I want to go to the beach at all because it’s all cold water all the time.”

“What’s wrong with being a girl?” Yelena asked.

“Nothin’ if you’re born to it. I wasn’t. Plus, it means needing a girl’s swimsuit because most places don’t like letting a girl walk around topless.”

“I don’t mind when you’re in a more feminine form,” Cantabile said. “Actually… I find your female form quite attractive.”

Ranma reddened slightly, recalling back to when Cantabile had first encountered his cursed body as well as a rather frank discussion his friend Nearl had had with him about such things. Gavial’s sudden laughter confirmed she remembered his recounting of the incident. “You don’t think I’m a weirdo freak?” he asked.

“I certainly find it novel,” Cantabile said. “Freakish? Not at all.”

“Unmanly?”

“By definition, being a woman would not be manly,” Yelena chimed in. “But by definition, being a man would not be womanly. But who defines what actions are manly and womanly? You and I fought—to the death, I had thought. I expected my name to be added to the rolls posthumously. You, clearly, had other plans—to defeat me and spare my life. Is it a manly action to not fight to the death? To spare your opponent’s life?”

“Well, uh…”

“That would suggest that Buldrokkas’tee is unmanly, as he went to battle Miss Amiya with the clear intent to kill or be killed,” Yelena continued. “Perhaps you have other concerns about being seen as womanly. There are many people who would suggest that women are the weaker sex. Are you in that number?”

Ranma scratched at his cheek nervously. “I… maybe might have used to be?” At the incredulous looks he received from all the women in the room, he held his hands up in a warding fashion. “Look, it would take way too long to explain… mostly goes back to how I was raised. I used to think I couldn’t go all out against a girl because I never met a girl who was as strong as me. The only real exception I knew, I could even make an excuse for—she was a three hundred year old grandmaster. Once I got to three hundred years old, I bet I’d be able to kick her ass.”

“What changed?” Gavial asked, crossing her arms.

“A place called Phoenix Mountain. Someone… real close to me nearly died. All because I let my guard down and took it easy on way too many people there,” Ranma replied. “At first, I went easy on Kiema, the guard captain of the Phoenix King, and she took that for what it was—weakness and giving her an opening. Round two didn’t go so well for her.”

“Good,” Yelena said firmly. “You should never underestimate an opponent based on their sex. My brothers and sisters all have their strengths and weaknesses, and it was working together that made Yeti Squadron so powerful. You certainly didn’t take me lightly.”

“Yeah, well, any half-baked ideas I still had about that went out the window sparring Nearl. That backswing of hers is pretty vicious.” Ranma grinned at Yelena. “That ice song of yours is pretty nasty, too, don’t get me wrong. Taking you lightly would have gotten me killed.”

“The point is that there’s no reason to care about manly vs. unmanly or whatever nonsense is like that,” Gavial said. “You’re a good looking man. You’re also a pretty damn good looking girl, too. Don’t let one or the other get in the way of you enjoying yourself. Besides, we’ve got months before we’ll get to Siesta—we’re taking the long way to stay away from Ursus city-states. Gives Cantabile plenty of time to pick a nice bikini for you.”

Ranma blinked, glancing over to Cantabile, who seemed just as surprised by the statement as he was. “Is that… somethin’ you’d want to do, Canta-chan?”

“Ah, well… maybe,” Cantabile admitted. “I’ve never… gone shopping for pleasure.”

Ranma made a show of heaving a mighty sigh. “Alright, we’ll go bikini shopping,” he said.

“Please, you enjoy looking good. You happily wear just that tactical shirt of yours to the canteen to trick people into letting you cut in line,” Gavial said with a laugh. “Alright, got your promise here. I’ll leave you alone for now. Call me if you want to get up again!”

Ranma “got up” a few more times before he was officially released in just under a week, but he made sure to clear it with someone in Medical first to prevent repeat incidents. It was only then that Amiya, the rabbit-eared leader of Rhodes Island, was able to finally make a real visit, though Ranma suspected the young Cautus had been avoiding him because she felt responsible for his injury. He did, however, notice something odd as she approached as he was leaving the medical room.

“You’re walking a little different, little bunny,” he said as she approached with the Doctor. As usual, the hooded man’s face was unreadable thanks to the face mask that was built into his uniform. Amiya’s expression, however, was an open book as she gave a surprised look at Ranma’s statement.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked. “I’m walking differently?”

“Yeah, it’s like you’ve been taking martial arts lessons while I was out but whoever trained you did it wrong.”

“Perhaps it’s a result of your Arts,” the Doctor suggested. “You’ve been a bit clumsy since the battle at Chernobog.”

“D-Doctor, I’m fine…”

“Your Arts?” Ranma asked.

“I have… special Arts. They allow me to see memories. You might remember I… alluded to them during the rooftop fight against Faust and Mephisto,” Amiya said in a low voice. Ranma nodded, so she continued. “I used those Arts… during the five minutes—”

“Six minutes,” Ranma corrected insistently.

Amiya smiled. “Six minutes… that you held Miss Talulah off, the reason I needed that time was… to draw on Miss Ch’en’s combat experience and the knowledge forged into her sword, Chi Xiao. For that, three minutes would have sufficed… but the extra three minutes allowed me to draw on Miss Talulah’s skill… as well as one other person who was present.”

“Who? W?” Ranma asked, tilting his head.

“No.” Amiya shook hers. “You, Ranma. I drew on your memories, your experience, your skill. Truthfully, it has disrupted my muscle memory a bit…”

“Hold up. You copied Ch’en’s, Talulah’s, and my combat skills and experience?”

“Y-Yes, that’s right… I’m sorry, I know you asked me to stay out of your memories, but it was desperate, and…”

Ranma held his hands up. “I ain’t mad, you did what you had to do. We’d probably be dead if you didn’t. But, Amiya… You need real training.”

“Eh?”

“I’m not just ‘skill,’ I’m also years and years of extreme physical fitness and conditioning to make me capable of moving and acting the way I do,” Ranma explained. “No offense, little bunny, but you’re not just younger than me, you’re weaker. If you’re gonna go around with my memories and skills, I’m gonna train you until you can actually use ‘em properly.”

“Eh?!”

Ch’en Hui-chieh, it turned out, completely agreed with this notion. In fact, she so agreed with the notion that she wanted to spar Ranma to demonstrate to Amiya exactly what he meant. They had to borrow a vehicle as Dr. Kal’tsit, the chief medical officer, had compiled a list of Operators with whom Ranma was explicitly banned from sparring aboard the landship, and Ch’en was apparently one of them.

Still, it wasn’t much longer after telling Ch’en that she, Ranma, and Amiya had found a suitably desolate waste for the exhibition match. To Ranma’s surprise, however, Ch’en was not using a practice sword nor was she carrying her more mundane blade from her time as superintendent of the Lungmen Guard. The only weapon she had was Chi Xiao.

“You’re gonna use that for a spar?” he asked.

“You might have forgotten, but I saw you fight,” Ch’en replied. “I’d like to stand a chance at least.”

Ranma grinned. “Well, alright, fair enough,” he said, beginning to limber up.

Ch’en certainly stood a chance in the spar. While she was not quite as strong nor as fast as Talulah, she had two other advantages to her favor, even discounting that Talulah may have not been fighting at her best. First, she had an uncanny knack for reading Ranma’s maneuvers in a way that Ranma himself would frequently utilize against his opponents. Second, she was good. She was damn good, despite her claim that she only wanted to “stand a chance” against Ranma by using Chi Xiao.

As he weaved and evaded around the blazing strikes of the Arts sword, and she deflected or avoided his counterattacks, he realized she was smiling. Not just smiling, in fact. She was grinning widely as she fought, and Ranma was not in the least surprised to consciously realize that he was grinning back at her. It was something he had sorely missed while laid up—fighting a skilled and powerful opponent just for the thrill of the fight.

Maybe Ch’en had had an ulterior motive in agreeing with Amiya needing training because she wanted a fight against the man who had “defeated” her sister and wanted to know how she would measure up.

The “duel” ended with the pair collapsing back-to-back, greedily drinking from canteens they had brought with them while Amiya fretted over their condition. Once reassured they were much better than alright, Amiya admitted that she had barely been able to follow their movements and gratefully accepted Ranma’s offer of training. Especially, she said, as she had tried to imitate a few of the moves she saw and ended up falling on her butt.

The return to Rhodes Island, however, was less jovial when they arrived. Some “guests” had arrived.

Chapter Text

Five strangers. At least, they were strangers to Ranma. They were accompanied by a few other Operators who Ranma had seen or worked with, but as they moved on to debrief, it was the five who Ranma and Ch’en were left to greet. Amiya, not wanting to miss anything, was with them.

One of them was dismissed as a threat. She had a slight build with brown hair that had feather-like appendages reminding him of an owl. She also wore a coat that reminded him of some of the researchers and doctors he had seen at Rhodes Island. The silver-haired woman next to her reminded him of an otter and was dismissed as a personal threat, though she seemed to carry herself with some experience and had a strange mechanical rigging over her orange coat.

On the other side of the group was a woman who reminded him of a raccoon in a few ways. Her white button-up shirt was nearly as dirty as her brown shorts, and she looked as though she wished to be almost anywhere else. Next to her was an absolute mountain of a tiger-like Feline man in white pants and a black T-shirt. Ranma hardly needed even his first glance to assess the white-furred man—likely brutally strong and he carried himself like a man who knew how to fight. While Ranma was still confident in being able to take him, the right terrain could easily be to the bigger man’s advantage.

It was the one in the middle of the group, who stepped forward as if to take leadership, who truly puzzled him. She moved with the absolute confidence and grace of an extremely skilled fighter, but her body was also concealed under a heavy coat. There was some sigil or device on the coat that was blacked out, leaving Ranma unable to identify it or even remember it to ask about later. He did, however, recognize that she was of the Vouivre race, who were considered to be akin to the Draco or Lung races.

Which meant that if she had the strength to match how she moved…

“My name is Saria. I wish to speak to whoever is in charge and seek asylum with Rhodes Island. Rather, I would like to renew my asylum.” The woman’s voice was on the deeper side and her tone was clipped. “These four are… well, one is a person whom I went to rescue, another is someone who was there to assist in his rescue. This one is a former coworker of mine, and this… well, she was an obstacle who became an ally.”

“Miss Saria?” Amiya said, stepping between Ranma and Ch’en. “I don’t think we’ve ever spoke in person, but Dr. Kal’tsit has told me about you. My name is Amiya, I’m the leader of Rhodes Island. Miss Mayer, it’s good to see you again!”

The silver-haired woman with the strange rigging waved to Amiya. “Hi, Amiya! Nice to see you!” she said. “Per the contract, tada! Safely delivering Anthony back to Rhodes Island!” She motioned bombastically to the huge Feline man.

Amiya smiled at Mayer, and Ranma relaxed just a little bit. If the rescue operation was an official Rhodes Island one, then… “You should probably get to your debriefing then, shouldn’t you?” he asked, his hand going into his pocket.

“Ah, I’m sorry, who are you…? I don’t think we’ve met?” Mayer asked.

“This is Ranma Saotome, but he’s an Elite Operator of Rhodes Island, Striker!” Amiya introduced. “And this is Miss Ch’en, formerly of the Lungmen Guard. She’s also joined us.”

“Whoa, wait, that’s the Striker? The one all the folks were talking about who took on freaking Talulah?” Mayer exclaimed, pointing at Ranma, who felt a bit of pride at being known. “I thought he’d be taller…”

Ranma immediately felt deflated by the statement.

Mayer quickly left, leaving it down to just four. Anthony was also led away to be given food and, apparently, to make decisions. That left Saria, her former coworker, and the obstacle-turned-ally to address.

The coworker, however, stepped up on her own. “I don’t need Saria to speak for me in this matter,” she said bluntly. “I want to work for Rhodes Island. I have approval from Director Wright to do so as part of our business association, but more importantly… before I start, there’s someone else I need to pick up to bring here.”

Saria shot her a look. “Olivia, you don’t mean…”

“Shut your mouth, Saria,” the owl-like woman replied immediately. “Don’t say another word about them until I have them brought here for safekeeping.” She turned back to Amiya. “Miss Amiya, while I have only our business contract with Rhodes Island to draw upon, as a researcher at Rhine Labs, I formally request a vehicle and an escort.”

Amiya tilted her head slightly, and Ranma could practically see the thoughts humming through the Cautus’s head. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll have an equipment request and assignment created within the hour for you, Miss Olivia.”

“Olivia Silence,” Olivia said. “You can simply call me Silence if that makes it easier.”

“We’ll come to a decision in that vein later,” Amiya replied with a slight smile. “Ranma, can you be back on duty within an hour?”

“I’m gonna need, like, a gallon of whatever sports drink we’ve got in the canteen, but sure,” Ranma replied. His jacket, which he had been loosely holding in one hand, was moved to lay over his shoulder. “Shower, snack, hydrate. Let’s say forty-five minutes.”

“Are you sure about him?” Saria asked, eyeing Ranma almost suspiciously. “Without going into any detail about what Olivia is likely referring to… You need someone who can be explicitly trusted.”

“Striker is one of our Elite Operators and closely trusted,” Amiya replied. “I would, and have, trust him with my life and the lives of everyone else aboard Rhodes Island. He is, without a doubt, one hundred percent trustworthy.”

“Very well,” Saria replied, not looking sure of the decision. “Then, I would also like to apply to work for Rhodes Island, though not as a member of Rhine Labs, from whom I have resigned. As you will undoubtedly find out shortly, I had very good reasons for doing so. Just call me Saria—formerly the head of the Rhine Labs Defense research division, also formerly their head of security.”

Ranma gave a low whistle. “So you must be a pretty good fighter, then,” he said. “Thought so. You want to know if you can trust me? I’m askin’ you to take a bit on faith for now, but once I get back… The best way to get to know someone, if you ask me, is with a sparring match. I’d be glad to throw down with you once I’m back.”

Saria’s expression as she looked Ranma over could almost have been called clinical. Her left eyebrow, however, raised very slightly. “Very well. When you return, then,” she said.

“I’ll take care of things from here, Ranma. You should get ready to go with Dr. Silence,” Amiya said.

Within forty-five minutes, as promised, and freshly showered, Ranma walked back into the departure bay, finishing off a bottle of blue sports drink and otherwise equipped for his mission. While the time allotted had only just been enough to grab a quick snack, he still felt refreshed from his spar with Ch’en and ready for the assignment. With a deft flick of his wrist, he sent the empty bottle into a recycling receptacle near the door before quickly pulling his jacket on. His original jacket had been burned to cinders in Chernobog, but the new one sported a patch of the only part that had been saved—the Rhodes Island rook logo, albeit charred and blackened.

“PRTS, clock me in,” Ranma said. “I should have an assignment from Amiya with Dr. Silence.”

“Acknowledged. Operator Striker is now registered as ‘on duty.’ Here is your assignment. Be advised, it is for your eyes only,” PRTS replied as Ranma pulled out his terminal link. A tiny map in the corner directed him to the vehicle where Silence was, apparently, waiting. The assignment was fairly simple—provide escort to Dr. Silence in the retrieval of a “package” from an undisclosed but nearby location. The risk index was extremely low and Ranma wondered why an Elite was being assigned.

Well, the little bunny and the Doctor know better than me, and they probably agreed on this one, he decided. The vehicle in question was a simple four-seater buggy, a slightly larger model than the one Ranma had used with Ch’en to travel to Chernobog’s urban core. Silence waited in the driver’s seat, watching him as he approached. “I guess you’re already ready to go,” he said.

“I am. I’ll explain more about the details once we’re off the landship,” she said. “I don’t mean to sound rude, and if I’m coming across that way, I apologize.”

Ranma shrugged, settling into the passenger seat and buckling up. He tugged at the straps holding his combination mask and respirator around his neck to be certain they were secure, then gave her a thumbs up.

The departure was so textbook that Ranma nearly fell asleep, but he managed to keep himself focused until they were well away from the landship that Silence spoke up again, addressing him. “We’re not retrieving a package, per se,” she said.

“Ok?” Ranma said, turning to her and waiting for more.

“We’re retrieving a person. Once she’s safely with Rhodes Island, that woman… She’ll lose all of her leverage over me.” Silence shook her head. “Well, that’s not as important as making sure the girl is safe.”

“Rescue a damsel in distress and keep her safe from the bad guys,” Ranma mused. “Well, I’m pretty good at that at least. Are you talking about that Saria lady having somethin’ over you though?”

“Saria? No,” Silence replied, looking somewhat surprised. “To be honest, Saria might be one of the few people I can trust. I just… don’t like her. And the feeling is mutual. Let’s just say… there were a lot of mistakes at that place, and as a director, she should have known better.” She gave a sidelong look at Ranma. “Were you serious about wanting to fight her?”

“Yeah, I like fighting strong opponents,” Ranma replied.

“I’ll make sure to arrange a suitable funeral for you, then.”

The surprised look returned as Ranma gave a quick laugh. “Sounds like fun. I haven’t had a good rivalry with someone trying to kill me since I got here,” he said. “The last guy is still back in Lungmen working for Penguin Logistics.”

“You’re a very strange person,” Silence said, just loudly enough to be heard.

“Hey, if it rains before we get back, you’ll get to see just how strange.”

It did not rain, though the clouds overhead rumbled with the threat of it as Silence drove. The destination, as Ranma was finally able to see it, was a mobile city in the distance, albeit one that was currently anchored. A quick check with the PRTS link confirmed it was a Lateran city—in fact, the very city where the Rhodes Island branch office was located that had picked Ranma himself up. Silence simply waved her badge at the border guards, who hurriedly backed away to allow her to drive into the city proper.

It didn’t take long for the hairs to rise on the back of Ranma’s neck. He glanced briefly in the mirror, then ahead again. “We’re bein’ followed,” he said.

“Of course we are. She probably had a watch out for me.”

“They must really want whoever it is we’re going to pick up if they let us in instead of stopping us,” Ranma observed. The pursuing car maintained a respectful distance but still turned when Silence did. He pulled out his PRTS link and began rapidly typing into it.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking in with the little bunny. Don’t want to cause her too many headaches.” Ranma smirked at the reply on the terminal screen. “That’s just what I needed to hear, little bunny.”

Silence raised an eyebrow. “What did she say?”

“That as long as they take the first swing, I’m in the clear for my response.” As long as I keep the property damage down, anyway.

Silence simply shook her head, returning her attention to the road. She pulled off after a few more minutes, parking in an empty lot and killing the engine. The pursuing car simply drove on at that point and Ranma scoffed at it. “Guess they want to draw this out,” he mused, getting out as he saw Silence doing the same.

“Hopefully they draw it out for too long and we can get out of here without a fight,” Silence said. She went to the back of the buggy, where a small cargo trunk was set. “Can you help me with this?” she asked, pulling a harness out.

“Sure,” Ranma replied, looking into the trunk and seeing a compact spherical device that looked like it would fit into the harness Silence was starting to put on. “What is it?” he asked, pulling the device out.

“It’s… my drone.” Silence looked hesitant to continue. “It’s a project I was working on for a while at Rhine Labs. It acts sort of as an extension of my medical Arts.”

“Whoa.” Ranma moved behind Silence, seeing where the drone would slide and lock into place on the harness. He carefully fitted into place, hearing a slight click! as it set. “That’s really cool!”

“It… is?”

“Heck yeah! A remote controlled drone that extends the reach of your healing Arts? That’s awesome! It lets you support someone who might be out of reach normally or keep track of someone on their own! Or… can you double up with it? Like can you use your Arts on someone yourself and through it?”

“Well, y-yes, I—”

“That’s even cooler! You’d be a really flexible asset on any team. Man, we could have used you in Chernobog!” Ranma stepped back, noting that the drone seemed secured on its rest. Silence seemed to take a few extra seconds before turning around, blinking owlishly at him. “Anyway, where to from here?”

“Well, she’s… she’s not far from here. At a safehouse. Just a second.” She pulled out what looked, to Ranma, like a hand scanner from a grocery store. “Rhodes Island equipped everyone with infection monitors, right?”

“Yeah, they monitor our vitals and stuff.”

“Let me scan it to add it to my drone.” Ranma obediently pulled his right arm out of the jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve, revealing the LED-illuminated band around his bicep. Silence ran the scanner over it, eliciting a beep from the hand unit, before putting it away. “There, the drone is tied into your vital readout… If anything happens, I’ll be notified.” She nodded with satisfaction. “Safehouse. This way.”

Safehouse, indeed, Ranma thought with a dubious expression. The thought and expression came largely due to the dilapidated condition of the area. He idly wondered if this was comparable to the slums of Lungmen and if the conditions here were similar. Silence led him inside, holding up a finger for quiet until the door sealed shut behind him.

“She’s probably upstairs,” Silence said in a low voice. “Wait here and I’ll go get her. Don’t let anyone in through that door, no matter what.”

“You got it,” Ranma replied in an equally low voice. He waited quietly by the door as Silence went upstairs, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. He tuned out the world around him, keeping his ears open but focusing on the flows of energy in the area.

A car drove past, and he sensed the four occupants of it, along with another car with three. Hostile energy swirled around them, and Ranma assumed they were searching for the safehouse. Someone did approach the door, but there was no attempt to knock and the person simply left. Left to… the building across the street? There were more people he could sense there, but too far away to get a clear count.

A car parked at one end of the street. Four hostile auras exited it but did not approach, staying behind it. Another car at the other end of the street with the three.

Ranma’s eyes snapped open, and he whirled around and kicked the door off its hinges.

A moment later, the explosive attached to the door detonated violently, the force of it knocking him back from the doorway and into the wall behind him. He shook his head to clear the slight daze the impact caused, growling and moving toward the door. A gunshot caused him to duck out of the view of the doorway, though the bullet missed him. “PRTS, do you have radio contact with Silence?” he said, staying pressed against the wall.

“Negative. Dr. Silence is not responding to radio calls,” PRTS replied. “Enhanced audio pickup from hostile forces: they are confused about your survival and wish to quickly eliminate you.”

“You don’t say,” Ranma replied dryly. “Are they anyone special? Angry Reunion folks, maybe?”

“Their transponder signals suggest a local mercenary brigade. There is no information about who hired them.”

“It’s Rhine Labs,” Silence’s voice said from the top of the stairs. Just behind her was a blonde girl with horns who was actually a little taller than the owlish woman. “Sorry for the lack of radio contact but I think they put a jammer on top of the building. Do you have a plan for extraction?”

“I’ve got a few ideas,” Ranma replied. “This place got a back door?”

“It does not.”

“Pretty sure that’s a fire hazard.”

“Hey, who are you calling a fire hazard?!” the blonde girl yelled.

“He wasn’t talking about you, Ifrit, calm down,” Silence said, putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “He’s a part of Rhodes Island. He’s here to help.”

Ranma gave the girl a thumbs up. “Count on me. Operator Striker is here to see you two ladies home safe,” he said. He leaned slightly into view. “Hey!” he yelled outside. “Hold your fire! I wanna talk!”

Surprisingly, there were no loose shots. “Come outside with your hands up!” a man’s voice yelled in response.

Ranma winked at Silence and Ifrit, moving into the doorway and stepping outside with his hands raised. Silence and Ifrit yelled something behind him, but his focus was on the people outside as he stepped through the doorway. As expected, he was bracketed—two wolf-like Lupo holding rifles on his left, one on his right. The remaining two on the left and the right each held automatic crossbows instead. Directly ahead were five people—one a Liberi man in a collared shirt, holding a baton that had two metal prongs on the end, along with two Vulpos carrying swords and two Felines with heavy pipes.

All in all, Ranma was not very impressed. “Look, just tell me what it is you want and we can probably get this all solved without me having to kick all your asses,” he said.

The Liberi with the stun baton sneered at Ranma. “Yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what would happen. Just hand over the girl. Your name’s not on the contract and we don’t care about the woman you’re with. Our employers just want the girl back, safe and sound. You can just walk away, prick.”

“And what do your employers want with the girl?” Ranma asked. “I gotta ask, because I’m one of the good guys.” He tapped at the blackened symbol on his jacket for emphasis.

“We didn’t ask, we don’t care, and we don’t care about you. Now hand her over.”

Ranma sighed, making a show of slumping his head slightly. “Alright. I guess it’s time to say our goodbyes,” he said. The Lupo on the right smirked, lowering his rifle. “To you losers, that is.” Before the aggressors could react, Ranma had moved to the left, delivering a swift kick to the car door. As the door caved in, the car slid into the four behind it, completely bowling two over its hood with painful thuds. The other two were sent flying when the car stopped. None of them got back up, only letting out feeble, pained groans.

“Kill him!” the Liberi with the stun baton yelled.

The remaining Lupo with the rifle opened fire and Ranma was already moving. Despite being bullets, the incoming fire moved almost comically slow to him compared to the crossbow and Arts bolts he had avoided from the Reunion freedom fighter Faust. Just as he had with the car on the left, Ranma kicked the one on the right in the rear door. The vehicle spun around violently, knocking the trio first over the trunk and then slamming them into the hood, leaving them to fall to the street. By then, the four with the leader had started to charge forward, raising their weapons.

A sword sliced through the air, missing Ranma by millimeters as he stepped into the swing. Ranma’s hands slipped behind his back as he dodged another swing, crouching low to nudge his feet at the ankles of the Feline with the pipe. As the man stumbled, Ranma slipped around the next attacker, kicking the Vulpo in the back and causing him to crash into the Feline, sending both toppling to the ground. Ranma then jumped, curling into a ball to avoid a slash from the other sword and landing on the extended blade.

“Up here,” he said, kicking the Vulpo in the face and knocking him back. The last standing Feline swung a pipe at Ranma’s head from behind, and Ranma swung his fist back without looking, knocking the man to the ground, and leaving only the Liberi standing and glaring at him. “So, is she really worth whatever you’re being paid?”

The Liberi charged, pressing the button for his baton and jabbing at Ranma. Ranma simply slid to the side, kicking up hard enough to double the Liberi over, then lifting his leg to axe-kick the man into the ground. The baton flipped lazily through the air, landing in Ranma’s hands, and he flipped it over, pressing the button and driving the prongs into the Liberi’s back. With a dismissive scoff, Ranma tossed the baton away. “All clear, girls!” he called.

Silence and Ifrit came out of hiding, eyes wide as they looked at the defeated and groaning mercenaries. “Whoa, he beat them all!” Ifrit exclaimed.

“They were a bunch of pushovers,” Ranma said dismissively. “Let’s get outta here before they wake up.”

“Hell yeah! I’m never going back with these bozos!” Ifrit said. “C’mon, Silence, let’s go!”

Silence nodded, still looking in awe at the two cars that had been moved with a single kick each, along with the groaning thugs scattered around them. “Right…”

The run back to the buggy, however, was not as uneventful as one would have liked. Only about a third of the way there, another car came tearing around the corner, accelerating directly for Ranma. “Move!” he yelled to Silence and Ifrit, who picked up the pace to flee. Ranma, however, charged at the car, a feral grin forming on his face at seeing the surprised look on the driver’s. “Ryuusei Kyaku!” he yelled, lifting his leg and channeling his ki into it. With a single, mighty blow, he caved in the entire engine compartment, causing the car to flip over his head. With a crash and jolt, the car landed on its wheels again, coasting to a slow stop. Nobody exited the vehicle.

Silence’s eyes were again wide as Ranma rejoined her and Ifrit. “I thought I’d need to use the drone for you, but clearly, you don’t need it,” she said.

“For now,” Ranma agreed. “Mind if I pick up the pace?”

“What do you—YEEEEEK!”

“H-Hey! Put me down!” Ifrit yelled as Ranma picked both her and Silence up, leaping up and forward.

“Sorry, this is faster!” Ranma replied. A second leap landed them next to the buggy, and Ranma popped the trunk right as he set the pair down. Without a word, but very red faced for some reason, Silence quickly removed the harness with her drone, tucking it back into the trunk.

“I call front seat!” Ifrit said, running around to hop in the front passenger seat.

“I’ll drive,” Silence said. Ranma shrugged, hopping into the back and grabbing the roll bar.

“Warning, hostiles incoming,” PRTS advised.

“What the hell, who invited everyone to this block party?” Ranma muttered, popping his head up to look back. “Yow!” he yelled, ducking back as a gunshot zipped past. “Oh, hell no!” he growled, popping back up. “No more Mr. Nice Guy! Moko Takabisha!” A ball of blue and gold radiance shot out of his outstretched hand, slamming into the grille of the car with the gunman. The engine compartment detonated spectacularly and the car swerved as the driver lost the view of the road. Behind that car, however, were three others. “Silence!” he yelled.

“Hang on!” the medic yelled, flooring the accelerator. Ifrit yelped, having barely secured her restraints, and clung to the roll bar overhead as the buggy shot forward.

“PRTS, how many coming?!” Ranma yelled.

“Tracking at least four remaining vehicles with radio transponders matching previous pursuit,” PRTS replied mildly. “This does not include the two you currently have visual tracking on. Local law enforcement has also been alerted due to the noise.”

“I’m not stopping for them!” Silence shouted back.

“Didn’t expect it!” Ranma replied, batting aside an Arts bolt aimed at his head. Lowering the intensity of his aura, Ranma concentrated the next energy blast he created into a smaller ball. This one he fired at the tire of the next approaching car, repeating the shot for the second of the two new pursuers. The two cars slammed into each other, grinding to a halt. “Persistent little bastards, aren’t they?”

“I can help!” Ifrit yelled.

“Don’t you dare undo that restraint, Ifrit!” Silence said immediately. “Stay buckled in and keep your head down!”

“Hey! Don’t you worry about a thing!” Ranma added, grinning down at Ifrit and giving her a thumbs up. “Everything’s going to be okay!”

“Warning. One radio transponder ahead has been set to the hostile frequency. It is being operated by the gate guard,” PRTS chimed in.

“You just live to prove me wrong, don’t you,” Ranma muttered.

“Entertaining but not all that I live for,” PRTS replied. “The gate leading to the exit ramp has been closed.”

“Those four pursuing cars, are they close?” Ranma asked, glancing forward.

“They will not be within visual range for three minutes at our current rate of speed. We will reach the gate in one.”

Ranma nodded, flipping up onto the roll bar despite the wind. He slid forward, bracing himself on the forward part. “Keep going and don’t stop!” he yelled to Silence.

“Are you crazy?!” Silence yelled back.

“Trust me!” Ranma turned and locked eyes with Silence. There was a brief moment where it seemed like the owlish woman might still protest, but her expression firmed instead and she nodded. Ranma turned back ahead, grinning slightly and pulling on his mask. “PRTS, give me a countdown to visual contact with the gate,” he ordered.

“T-minus twenty seconds,” PRTS replied. Shortly afterward, the feminine voice chimed in again. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Visual contact established.”

Silence turned the buggy around a curve and there it was. Four people stood in front of the fence-like gate that was the last physical barrier to freedom. On any other day, Ranma would have considered testing them to see if they were any good.

But the scared girl behind him warranted a different response. “Kijin Raishu Dan!” he yelled, slashing his hands toward the gate. One of the more lethal attacks in his arsenal, the core ability of the “Mountain of One Thousand Fists” launched a blade of vacuum—or, in this case, two in a cross pattern—fueled by Ranma’s ki. Driven as they were by his fighting spirit, the blades far outpaced the buggy, blasting past the four mooks at the gate to slice it to ribbons. “Go! Go now!” Ranma yelled, crossing his arms in front of his face as he moved to the middle of the hood. Wide-eyed and realizing the incoming vehicle was not stopping, or even slowing, the four goons scattered out of its way.

The buggy smashed through the ruined gate without slowing. Ranma flinched as he felt the metal pieces cutting into his arms and legs, but nothing vital was hit and, more importantly, the two behind him were shielded from injury. “Striker!” Silence yelled in surprise, seeing the blood pouring out.

“I’m fine, keep going!” Ranma replied, moving to jump to the back of the buggy.

“The vehicles are slowing their pursuit. We are now exiting the city limits,” PRTS chimed. “Law enforcement is not pursuing us.”

“Anyone on that frequency ahead of us?” Ranma asked.

“Negative. We appear to be free and clear of pursuit for now.”

Silence gave a shuddering sigh of relief, easing off of the accelerator and reducing to a safer speed. She met Ranma’s eyes through the rearview mirror, looking him over. “When we get a little further away… we can stop, then I’ll take care of those injuries.”

“Why bother stopping?” Ranma asked. “Could your drone keep up with us?”

“Well, I… I suppose it could, but—”

Ranma leaned around the back of the buggy, popping the trunk and grabbing the drone and harness from it, then hopping back into his seat in the same motion he kicked the trunk closed. “There, we can deploy the drone and you can use your Arts through it on me while we drive.”

Silence gaped at him in the mirror, and even Ifrit seemed at a loss for words, before the Liberi began to laugh. “You do really come up with the most unorthodox ideas, don’t you?” she asked as her mirth subsided. “Very well. As long as the way ahead is clear, I can operate the drone while driving in a straight line, at least.”

“Here’s my report on the mission, little bunny. And a copy of the PRTS logs,” Ranma said, setting a tablet terminal on the table and sliding it over to Amiya before sitting back. Silence, puzzled and slightly agitated at being separated from Ifrit so soon after her recovery, sat in the chair next to his. “Should be a complete report on how everything went down.”

“Let me see…” Amiya’s ears twitched slightly as she picked up the tablet, browsing through it. They twitched again, one drooping slightly as her right eyebrow raised. “Striker… Didn’t I ask you to minimize property damage?”

“They attacked first,” Ranma protested. “I followed the rules! Ok, maybe some of the roads got a little messed up and we wrecked a gate…” At Amiya’s continued stare, he threw his hands up in the air. “The gate wouldn’t have been wrecked if the guy wasn’t on the take with them! It’s his fault for closing it!”

Amiya smiled and Ranma slumped in relief. “I know. I just wanted to make sure you knew,” she said. “After-action report… Oh, my. A drone that can act as an extension of Medical Arts…?”

“We didn’t get to use it in the field but she used it to heal all the cuts I took after we went through the gate,” Ranma explained. “Patched me up no problem.”

“This could be a very useful asset for our field teams,” Amiya murmured, tapping at the keys to her personal desk terminal. “This is something you developed, Dr. Silence?”

“Y-Yes… I… I wanted to make amends for an earlier mistake,” Silence replied. She gave a suspicious look at Ranma, who simply grinned back at her. “Rhine Labs didn’t think it was… worth much.”

“I’m not in the business of caring what Rhine Labs thinks, to be honest,” Amiya replied. “This is something that could be incredibly useful for field and recon teams… or even our disaster response teams. There’s always areas, especially after a Catastrophe, where personnel cannot safely reach but a drone like this could. And with something like this, medical assistance can still be administered even if the medic is unable to reach the person who needs it personally. Something like this could revolutionize triage and first-response treatment.”

“You… you think it’s a good idea?” Silence asked.

“I think it’s a great idea! Would you be willing to share the design specs with our engineering team by tomorrow? I can have Miss Closure ready to work on economizing the design for a rapid reproduction model—with your approval, of course. The prototype model you use is a bit expensive to produce, but we could easily make a smaller version without much loss to its effectiveness.”

“Of…” Olivia Silence was not, despite her name, prone to silence. Still, she was at a temporary loss of speech, able only to jerkily nod for a moment before finishing. “Of course. I can… I can clean up my preliminary sketches and have them ready for your engineering department by tomorrow afternoon.”

Amiya beamed, rapidly typing at her desk terminal. “Miss Closure should contact you within a couple hours to schedule a meeting. I’m looking forward to getting a production model and line set up.” She tapped at the report tablet again. “Now… About the girl you went to retrieve. Rhodes Island did put a valuable asset in the field retrieving her. I need any details you’re willing to share about her.”

Silence covered her face with her hand, letting out a sigh as she contemplated the request. There had not yet been any repercussions, either from Laterano or from Rhine Labs, about the fiasco in the Lateran mobile city. In fact, rather the opposite. She had called back to Rhine Labs, fully intending on tendering her resignation, and instead had been given a counteroffer asking her to stay on the Rhine Labs payroll while working with Rhodes Island.

Olivia did not like playing politics. She was happy to let Saria do that. “It’s complicated. Suffice to say… well, I made… a mistake. It was a project that Rhine Labs thought we could… that we were arrogant enough to believe…” Raw emotion welled up in her chest as flashes of memory darted through her head. The taste of the smoke she inhaled, the screams, the scent of burning flesh… and a little girl, face twisted in anger, pain, and fright. Her teeth grit involuntarily as the intensity of the memories grew stronger.

An object entered her field of view, drawing her out of her memories. A bottle of water. Bright blue eyes gave her a concerned look as she shakily reached out to take it. “You alright there, Silence?” Ranma asked, his now-free hand coming up to her shoulder.

Silence twisted the cap off the water bottle silently, drinking the entire thing in a single pull, then sat back with a gasp, panting. “No. I’m not. But thank you, Striker,” she said. “The mistake… She’s still paying for that mistake.”

“What did Rhine Labs do to her?” Amiya asked in a soft voice. Ranma’s eyes darted over to her, the concern still there.

“What we did to her, what I did to her… is inhuman. I don’t know how she forgives me, because I certainly don’t forgive myself.” Silence took a shuddering breath, shaking her head. “Would you believe me if I told you she’s a Savra?”

Ranma frowned, puzzling that over. “Savra… Like 12F?” he asked Amiya, who nodded. “But her horns are definitely Sarkaz…”

“Her horns are artificial,” Silence spat. “We implanted her body with the shards of an extinct Sarkaz race. Her blood courses with so much Originium that it’s a wonder she’s even alive.”

“Extinct Sarkaz,” Amiya murmured, then her eyes widened. “You don’t mean… Diablo?”

“That’s right. Saria would probably tell you this if you asked, which is the only reason I will… That, and… I…” Silence looked down at the empty water bottle in her hand, wishing she had another. Almost as if intuiting her wants, Ranma took the empty one away and chucked it into a trash bin with ease, retrieving another to replace it with. “Thank you…” The second water bottle was drunk just as quickly as the first. “I trust you. After what you did for her… Ifrit trusts you. She was already asking when she’d get to see you again.”

Ranma sat back down with a slight frown.

“I know. Saying ‘I made a mistake’ undersells it. It doesn’t convey the magnitude of atrocity I’ve committed. That’s why I brought her here. In some small way, I want to make up for what I’ve done.”

Amiya nodded behind her desk, her expression thoughtful. She checked something on her desk terminal, and her face brightened as if an idea had occurred to her. “Striker, I think that will be all. Thank you for the good work as always. Once the mission report is finalized, your pay will come through as usual,” she said. “I’d like a moment with Miss Silence, please.”

Ranma blinked. “Uh, sure thing, little bunny,” he said, standing up. “I’ll get outta your way then.”

“Striker,” Silence said. “I’ll… reach out to you to arrange visits with Ifrit. Would that be alright?”

Ranma grinned. “Sure. Let the little firefly know I’ll come see her anytime I can.”

After he departed, that left Olivia alone with Amiya. The Cautus’s demeanor seemed definitely improved by something as she worked at her desk terminal for a few minutes before she turned back to Silence. “Miss Silence, you said you would like to make amends,” she said.

“Yes, that’s right…”

“Rhodes Island is a place where we like to give second chances. In fact, you might say that Striker, or rather Ranma Saotome, embodies that principle more than almost anyone here. One difficulty we’ve been facing with finally putting him in command of a squad is that there are certain key positions unfilled.”

“Are you suggesting you would like me to join his squad?” Silence asked.

“I would very much like you to join his squad,” Amiya said, smiling. She turned the display for her terminal, allowing Silence to see that it had a list of names, a profile, and several pictures. Currently, it was showing a profile for STRIKER, along with several pictures of him engaged in high-intensity combat. “Aside from the team captain himself, Striker’s team is composed of people who all have some black mark in their history, something they would desperately like to atone for.”

Silence raised an eyebrow, but did not interrupt.

Amiya pressed a button and her terminal highlighted CANTABILE, now showing pictures of a rather pretty Liberi woman. The knives she carried were also pretty… and sharp. “Cantabile, for instance… from what we can tell, she’s a former assassin who was cast aside after contracting Oripathy. She wants to make a new life for herself helping people.”

“And you compare her to me because of my motivations…”

Amiya nodded, pressing the terminal button again. Now, FROSTNOVA was highlighted. “This is Yelena, or FrostNova as she’s also known. Her specialty is extremely powerful ice Arts. In fact, she was recruited after trying to kill Ranma,” Amiya said. “He doesn’t hold it against her. In fact, he vouched for her joining us.”

“And what is she trying to atone for?” Silence asked.

“Like Cantabile, FrostNova has… a lot of blood on her hands. She’s formerly of the Reunion movement, you see,” Amiya said, causing Silence’s eyes to widen. “That Ranma vouches for her and holds no grudges has done her a lot of good. She’s still working on controlling her ice Arts but she’s already made great progress, so she was assigned to be on Ranma’s new team.”

The next button press showed a dark-haired Lung woman with two swords at her hip. “This is Ch’en Hui-chieh, former superintendent of the Lungmen Guard Division. She wishes to atone for the deaths of so many Infected at Lungmen’s hand under her watch, and for not standing up to Chief Wei Yen-Wu sooner,” Amiya explained. “While relatively minor, she considers it important that she atone.”

Silence nodded, waiting for the final name on the list. Amiya hesitated for a moment, then pressed the button. The image changed to a woman with white-blonde hair and an uncertain expression. Silence glanced over to the profile, seeing the name TALULAH. That, however, did not hold her attention for long, because the rest of the profile caught her eye.

Nearly every entry on the board besides the name and some physical data was listed as [REDACTED].

“Talulah Artorius,” Amiya said in a quiet voice and a tone that suggested some personal enmity. Silence’s eyes were wide as they darted back to the Cautus’s face, seeing a simmering anger on her expression. “He forgives her… and so do I. Because none of what happened is her fault. And yet knowing what I know…”

“What happened?” Silence asked.

“You may not want to know the details. Suffice to say, she was not entirely in control of her own actions, but some part of her actions were driven by her,” Amiya said cryptically. “She is the former leader of Reunion. Miss Ch’en, Striker, and myself fought her at Chernobog, and he was… severely injured by her.” Her voice dropped slightly, almost trembling. “He fought her alone to buy us time… If I had been stronger…”

Olivia bit her lower lip in concern, then sat back with a slight sigh. “‘If’... seems to be going around a bit today,” she said. “What is Striker’s opinion on the matter?”

“Eh? Um…” Amiya’s ears twitched and a slight blush formed on her cheeks. “Well, he actually… he doesn’t hold me responsible at all. And I know it’s silly to hold myself to a higher standard than he does. But… he holds himself to the highest standard of anyone I’ve ever met. Even Miss Nearl is better at relaxing than he is. We lost people in Chernobog fleeing from Talulah when we retrieved the Doctor… Ranma felt that he needed to become stronger to ensure that would never happen again.”

“Yes, that matches what I’ve observed of him,” Silence said, now feeling herself on familiar ground. “I suppose you and I, Miss Amiya, are proof of the old saying that we are often our own harshest judges. Though, I’ve heard news about an incident at Chernobog. That was only a few weeks ago, wasn’t it? He can’t have been that injured.”

Amiya retrieved the tablet Ranma had given her, tapping at it for a moment, then slid it across her desk to Silence. Carefully picking it up, Silence adjusted her glasses and began to read aloud. “Operator Striker medical report, post-Chernobog. Severe concussion, second degree burns to the neck, damaged rotator cuff, several broken ribs, severe contusion of chest cavity, major femoral fracture, numerous lacerations leading to extreme blood loss…” Silence trailed off, her eyes widening in horror as she scrolled further, seeing photographs taken of Ranma lying in bed as the medical staff worked.

She swallowed thickly, seeing the final line on the report. “Code Yellow confirmed?” she asked.

“Code Yellow is a special medical code we use. It refers to incoming patients in critical condition, specifically… those with a low chance of recovery or survival.”

Silence continued, seeing the final reports signed by Doctors Gavial and Tana. Ranma’s odds of a full recovery were given a mere 1.7%, while his odds of a partial recovery with some loss of motor function stood at a relatively broader 5.7%. Given what she had seen of the damage, she would have agreed with the assessment. She even agreed with the assessment that waking up at all stood at a mere 12%, while simple survival without awakening stood at a chilling 17%.

Then she shook her head, recalling that she had just done a fairly combat-intensive operation with the man supposedly in the photographs. “It’s a compelling medical report,” she admitted. “But I just finished a combat operation with him this morning. Why the deception, Miss Amiya?”

“It’s no deception, Miss Silence. He made a full and complete recovery, as you can see, in mere weeks when we expected months of therapy for even a partial recovery,” Amiya said. “Perhaps you’d also be interested to know he doesn’t use Originium Arts? The abilities he undoubtedly demonstrated—I would say he likely showed his tremendous physical strength, the wind blade, and the blasts of energy he can produce. They’re all from his training in martial arts.”

Silence squinted at Amiya, trying to see any sign of deceit in the Cautus girl’s face. Finally, she set the tablet back down. “And you’d like me to join his team,” she said, removing her glasses to pinch at the bridge of her nose. “Was this his idea?”

“He doesn’t know. We haven’t even told him about the team itself yet,” Amiya admitted. “We were trying to find medical personnel to fill the team but… Well, you’ve worked directly with him. Would you feel comfortable putting your life in his hands? Could you accept orders on the battlefield given by him?”

Silence closed her eyes. The streets of a Lateran city entered her mind. She remembered Striker ordering her to stay in cover, taking on a dozen hired thugs to protect her, and taking command to get her and Ifrit to safety. “I already did once, didn’t I?” she said. “And he got us safely here. Very well, Miss Amiya… I accept.”

Amiya was interrupted by whatever she was about to say in response as her terminal chimed. “Eh? Dr. Kal’tsit?” she murmured as the terminal chimed again. She tapped something. “Amiya here.”

“Amiya, I want to speak to Striker about his most recent Operation,” a woman’s voice—one Silence recognized belonged to Dr. Kal’tsit—came from the terminal. “Do you know where he is?”

“I’m afraid not—I just dismissed him from his debriefing. PRTS, where is Ranma right now?”

“Operator Striker has reported to training room two. He is being accompanied by Miss Saria,” PRTS’s voice said. “I believe they are preparing to spar.”

“They’re what?!” Kal’tsit almost screeched, causing Amiya and Silence to jump. “Amiya, stop them, I’m on my way!”

“Dr. Kal’tsit! She… she’s gone,” Amiya murmured, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen her respond like that… I suppose Miss Saria is getting added to the banned list…”

“‘Banned list?’” Silence asked.

“Dr. Kal’tsit keeps a rather exhaustive list of personnel Striker is banned from sparring while aboard the landship due to the risk of excessive damage of facilities and structures. I think it’s a little silly, but—”

Amiya went silent at the sound of a distant impact as a tremble went through her desk. Her eyes widened at three more such impacts. Silence’s eyes also widened as the implication hit home. Without another word, both women got up from their seats and ran for the door.

Five minutes earlier…

“I’m not complaining,” Ranma explained, limbering up. “I’m just surprised you were so ready to go.”

“I was informed when Silence returned with you and Ifrit,” Saria replied. “And I must admit, since resigning from my duties at Rhine Labs, I have not had much opportunity to really practice my skills.” The Vouivre scientist reached up to remove her coat and blouse, revealing a clingy sports top and a physique that was impressive… in more ways than one. Her business flats went next along with her trousers to reveal similar sports shorts. “An opponent like you could be interesting.”

“I thought you were just another egghead but you moved like a trained fighter,” Ranma said, moving toward the center of the room. “Bare-knuckle boxing, right? And on top of that, you’re pretty jacked!”

Saria smirked, pulling a roll of tape from her coat. As she began to wrap her fingers and wrists, she spoke. “It’s true, I’m the former Director of Rhine Labs’s Defense research team,” she said. “However, I was also the head of security. In addition to that, I personally trained our entire security team. If they didn’t make my cut, they didn’t make the security team. Should Rhodes Island find itself fighting against members of Rhine Labs’s security, I would keep that in mind. You should also keep in mind that if you don’t take me seriously…” Saria dropped the tape, letting it fall to the floor, and swung a backhand at the adjacent wall, denting it inward like tinfoil. “You’ll die.”

Ranma grinned, rolling his shoulders in anticipation, but his voice was low and serious. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t disrespect an opponent as strong as you by not taking you seriously,” he said.

Saria raised an eyebrow as she moved into position, raising her fists. “Striker, I presume?”

“Since you asked, yeah. You ready?”

“I am.”

“Then let’s go.”

Saria’s right fist blasted in like a cannon shot, and Ranma weaved to his right to evade. Her left came in and he batted it away with his right while his left shot forward for her midriff. Were he anyone else, Ranma might have compared the impact to hitting solid stone, but Ranma could pulverize stone with the punch he threw, yet Saria was unmoved. Her forehead launched forward and he barely moved in time to take the hit on his own brow, the impact staggering him back and leaving him seeing stars.

Instinct saved him and he flipped back, avoiding a straight punch aimed at his face. His ankles linked around her wrist, and he noted her surprised look through the spots dancing in his eyes as he twisted, flipping Saria with the momentum of her own punch into a wall not unlike how he had once done to Nearl.

Unlike Nearl, Saria did not simply impact the wall. Rather, she spun with the throw, punching the wall with enough force to shake the entire landship—and put a dent in the wall that could conceivably have come from firing light artillery at it—and launched herself back off of it at Ranma. Ranma barely had time to brace himself before she hit the floor like a cannon shell. He faded back to avoid a right hook that brushed his nose, leaning out of the way of a left straight that nearly took his head off, and lunged in, bombarding Saria with an absolute barrage of his own punches.

Saria stumbled back under the assault, raising her guard to protect her vital points as the blows rained down on her by the hundreds. She attempted to move to attack through the volley of punches only for her arm to be knocked aside. That was when she did something Ranma did not expect.

She simply charged forward into him and ignored the punches landing. Ranma was doubled over from the impact of her elbow slamming into his gut, launching him back to smash through several pieces of workout equipment and into a far wall. Blackness swam at the edges of his vision as he pulled himself out, rolling past her appearing to throw another punch that impacted the wall and, again, seemingly shook the entire landship. He flexed his arms, throwing himself back at Saria to kick along her back and leap away as she smashed into the wall.

As he landed at the opposite end of the room, he took a moment to catch his breath. “Goddamn, she’s way tougher than Ryoga…” Indeed, as he watched, Saria pulled herself out of the indentation she made into the wall, looking none the worse for wear.

She held up a hand, staring impassively at him. “I have a question for you, Striker,” she said, and Ranma narrowed his eyes at the pause in combat. After a moment, he nodded for her to continue. “What is your read of me so far?”

“My ‘read’ of you?” Ranma parroted, straightening slightly and lowering his arms. “Well, first, you are ridiculously strong and tough. Easily in the top three or four of anyone I’ve fought. But it’s not just strength, you’re also good. You can read your opponent and move with minimal effort for maximum impact, which is a skill most fighters take years to even begin to pick up.” At her continued impassive stare, he raised both eyebrows and added, “Also, you fight dirty.”

That actually earned a slight smirk. “Is that a problem?”

“No. Hell, I’m enjoying myself here. I hope you are, too. But on top of all of that…” He raised a hand, pointing at her. “You haven’t used your Originium Arts yet.”

“It’s only fair. Neither have you.”

Ranma chuckled, grinning at Saria. “That’s the funny thing. I don’t have Originium Arts. Oh, there’s some tricks I haven’t shown you yet, but I can’t even make a basic Arts Unit light up for testing,” he said, shrugging. “Everything I do is martial arts.”

“In that case, shall we raise the bar together? I want to know you, Saotome. And there is only one way warriors speak.”

Ranma’s answering grin turned slightly feral. “Now you’re talking my language,” he said in almost a growl, dropping back into stance. A deep inhale sharpened his focus and he lunged forward, trading off some strength for raw speed. Saria’s eyes widened but he was already inside of her guard. His hands came up, sweeping his arms open to knock hers aside, and his leg shot forward. “Moko Kaimon Ha!” he yelled, his focus shifting again into strength as his foot impacted directly on Saria’s center of mass.

It was like kicking a particularly sturdy cliff. If Ranma did not know better, he would have thought that someone had affected him with some strength-removing ability like the weakness moxibustion point. His eyes darted down for a fraction of a second and he saw some sort of glittering growth anchoring Saria’s feet and legs. He dodged to the right as the growth cracked and her hand shot forward for his chest, wreathed in the same glittering growth and forming a spear-like tip. Her other hand slashed, claw-like at his face, and he shifted back, planting his leg and flipping her over his shoulder.

She landed gracefully, the glittering growth forming and then instantly dissolving as her feet hit the ground, and she immediately moved to attack, only for him to not be there…

Unbeknownst to Saria, Ranma was behind her, hunched over slightly as he concealed his presence completely from her awareness. White Snake Confession Strike! he thought, but did not vocalize, of the technique, the spikes of ki on his fingertips driving painfully into Saria’s back as he attacked, shaking her body with a dozen impacts in far greater force than the physical strikes alone could account for.

Saria stumbled forward, eyes wide with surprise, and she spun around to slash her clawed hand at him but was blocked by his right elbow as he braced his stance. “Geimon Tessen Shi!” he yelled, his left hand driving forward, fingers extended and curled slightly like fangs to smash into her sternum. This time, her feet left the ground before she could root herself and she blew through a weightlifting set. The weights took more damage from the impact than Saria did, as the Vouivre regained her feet.

Ranma blinked, seeing a spot of red on Saria’s lip. She reached up, wiping at it with a thumb. After a moment of looking at the bright red smear on her thumb, Saria smirked slightly, holding a single finger up and pointing at Ranma. The gesture sent an odd phantom pain through his leg and ribs.

Saria launched herself forward. Ranma’s instincts screamed for deflection rather than dodge, and he parried her blow away, spinning her around. His foot failed to move with the pivot and he looked down to see that he was rooted in place by the same odd growths that Saria had been sporting.

Crap, this is her Arts! he realized. He jerked his leg to break free, but Saria was already coming back around after recovering from his counter. He staggered back to parry the next strike, only to be jerked forward as he made contact with his deflection. The glittering growth was connecting her wrist to his! She pulled her arm back, reeling him in, and her other fist blasted forward. His entire body jolted from the impact, made worse by the tether keeping him from doubling over with the punch. She snapped her arm around, breaking the tether of the growth, and her backhand hit him across the face with enough force to ring his ears.

Gracelessly rolling with the impact to get some distance while trying to clear the spots from his vision, Ranma stumbled back again, hopping and weaving away from Saria’s attacks to avoid contact. Not for the first time, he cursed his inability to sense Originium Arts, cupping his hands out at arm’s length as Saria approached for another attack. “Moko Takabisha!” he yelled, firing the ki blast at point-blank and sending her flying back across the room. Now with the distance he wanted, he panted for breath, analyzing his options.

Wetness at his lip got his attention and it was his turn to dab away a bit of blood. Smiling grimly, Saria again held up a single finger before jerking her thumb at herself wordlessly.

Her Arts are pretty damn versatile, he concluded, watching her for any moves toward him. Personal, short range, and medium range. Seems like she can use them on herself to reinforce her limbs. Makes her even crazier stronger and tougher. Then she can use them at short or medium range to slow me down or even completely immobilize me. I know I’ve done some damage, too, but she doesn’t seem hurt anymore. Medical Arts, too?

The look on Saria’s face told a story, too. Her eyes were darting over his form as if cataloging everything she was seeing. They jumped from his face to his chest, his arms and shoulders, his left foot, his left thigh…

A chill ran down his spine. She’s analyzing my style and the damage she’s done to me and realizing how much of it my quick healing has already recovered from, he realized. She’s doing exactly what I’m doing. A twinge of irony caused a ghost of a smile to appear on his face. Seems almost unfair to have to fight someone who’s this strong, this skilled, and this smart.

Ranma inhaled deeply, running down his options. The ki blast had done the trick of getting distance and doing some damage, but it seemed the damage had already been undone. He had a few other options, and began slowly moving to the side. As if mirroring him, Saria began walking in the same direction, with the two walking in a circle. Ranma took nervous note of the fact that the glittering growth began slowly creeping its way up her body.

She’s reinforcing herself. She’s shoring up her vulnerable points to withstand the explosive force of my bigger attacks. It’s like she’s calcifying herself, he thought. And she’s gonna hit even harder with that, too!

In an instant, options he had kept at hand were discarded. If he hoped to keep the fight from massively shifting in Saria’s favor, the time was now. He raised his hand in preparation to strike—and was immediately seized by the wrist with more of the glittering growth. He stumbled and tried to pull himself free, only for his feet to suddenly be caught as well.

“Let me guess: ‘Personal, short range, and medium range,’ right?” Saria said, and Ranma’s eyes snapped back to her. “Your estimation of my effective range would normally be correct. However, given enough time, I can operate at long range as well.” She held up a fist clenched in the strange calcification, the tape hidden under it. “You fought well. I’ll give you a chance to concede.”

Ranma grinned, focusing his ki. “And miss the chance for an awesome come-from-behind victory? Not a chance!” he yelled, his aura shimmering into existence. “I’m taking this all the way to the end!”

“Suit yourself,” Saria said, charging forward.

A burst of his aura cracked the calcification and Ranma wrenched himself free, channeling his ki into his fist as he leapt at Saria with a yell of effort. The effort, however, was completely wasted… though not on the part of either fighter.

An almost-serpentine form of metal slithered between the two charging combatants, its massive arms batting at both Ranma and Saria and knocking them away from each other with tremendous force. “M-Mon3tr…?” Ranma muttered, blinking dazedly at what appeared to be Kal’tsit’s bio-mechanical pet monstrosity. He had never known Mon3tr to be far from said Feline doctor’s side…

Another couple of blinks, however, and there Kal’tsit was, with Amiya and Silence running in just behind her. While Amiya and Silence looked a bit out of breath and wide-eyed at what they were running in on, Kal’tsit looked to be in a rare, towering fury at Ranma and Saria as they peeled themselves out of the wall. “Saria, I can give some way to. She couldn’t possibly know. You, however, know the ‘ban’ list exists for good reason and should have known immediately that she would be on it,” she said.

“Ah, c’mon, Doc, it’s not that bad,” Ranma protested. At a motion from Kal’tsit, Mon3tr picked Ranma up by his shoulders and pointed him at a severely dented wall. “Ok, would you belie—”

“No,” Kal’tsit cut him off. “No matter how many times you ask that ridiculous question, no, I will never believe that it was like this when you got here.”

“Still worth a try,” Ranma muttered.

“I apologize for my part in the damages, Dr. Kal’tsit,” Saria said, the calcification of her Arts receding and crumbling away. She began removing the tape from her fists. “I am the one who escalated the fight from the beginning.” She pointed to one of the circular dents in the wall. “I demonstrated my strength to Operator Striker so that he would fight me seriously from the beginning so that I could make an assessment of him. As the responsible party, I will take full responsibility for damages incurred.”

“Don’t help him weasel out of his responsibility,” Kal’tsit said. “That’s exactly what happened to training room two.”

“Consider the weaseling already done. As I said, it was my fault for escalating the fight to this point.” Saria winced, tenderly touching at her midriff. “He certainly gives as good as he gets.”

“I dunno, I think I busted a few knuckles punching you.”

“If you did, then it may be a fair trade for my damaged ribs and several bruises.” Saria shook her head. “Dr. Kal’tsit, I insist on covering the damages. Please forward an itemized invoice to me and I will pay it in full immediately.” With that, she began walking for the door, pausing at the threshold. “Silence… if my word means anything at all… then I have no objections to Striker’s continued associations with Ifrit. Since I’m certain you would object to my doing so, I believe he would make… an exemplary protector of hers, should she need such.”

With that, she departed. After a moment, Silence scoffed. “I wasn’t planning on weighing your opinion into this anyway,” she muttered. “Stay still, Striker,” she added in a louder voice. “I’ll take care of the worst of those injuries.”

“Consider Saria added to the ban list, Saotome,” Kal’tsit said acidly as Mon3tr dropped him to the floor. Turning on her heel, the Feline left as well.

“You made Dr. Kal’tsit mad again,” Amiya said with a chuckle. Silence took that as her cue to start working her medical Arts on Ranma.

“Eh, any day that ends with Doc K thinking about having Ascalon murder me is a pretty good one, in my opinion,” Ranma said with a grin.

“Believe it or not, I do think she actually likes you.”

“If it was anyone but you saying so, little bunny, I wouldn’t believe it. But coming from you… well, she’s got weird ways of showing it.”

“I never said she was showing it,” Amiya quipped. “Just that she likes you.”

Ranma winced at the results of some of Silence’s medical Arts. “I guess that’s fair… At least I didn’t end up back in a hospital bed this time.”

“This time.”

At Siesta…

“The Obsidian Festival preparations are coming along nicely,” said the young woman in jeans and a light shirt. “Nice to know our money is being spent well, even with the news about the volcano, isn’t it?” she quipped.

“Very,” the young Perro man in his own light clothing replied. “We did get some interesting news. Something… well, something we thought you might find interesting, at least.” He held out a portable terminal to the woman who employed him.

“Let’s see… Rhodes Island? They’re… coming here?”

The Perro man had seen his employer in vulnerable states before, but this definitely took the cake. “They are,” he said. “They published an itinerary with the city officials and have already made arrangements to dock, facilitate shore leave, take on supplies… They’re actually coming here, boss.”

The young woman smiled, tears starting to form in her eyes. “My, my… What wonderful news you’ve brought me…”

Chapter Text

Siesta was, as Ranma understood it, the name of both a city-state and a nation on Terra, one that enjoyed a certain protection thanks to its proximity to Columbia. Among vacation spots, according to his coworkers aboard Rhodes Island, one could only find competition in the Bolivarian city-state of Dossoles, especially if you enjoyed the beach. Having been convinced that nobody would judge him for spending a majority of the beach vacation in female form, Ranma was determined to not let his own personal hang-ups get in the way of enjoying himself.

However, before vacation could begin, there was still some work that needed to be done. Ranma’s, or rather Striker’s, presence was requested at the receiving deck, but not because of the potential for hostilities to erupt. Rather, it was for a reason nobody “back home” would certainly have ever expected: his general knowledge of Oripathy and its symptoms.

While studying was far from his favorite subject, the realization that anyone he fought could be Infected had informed his decision on the matter. On top of that, the fact that a significant percentage of his coworkers were also Infected and the various morbidities and detriments associated with Oripathy pushed him to learn. As a result, Operator Striker was not only allowed to carry a basic Oripathy kit into the field, he was given certain advanced tools that could help with acute Oripathy symptoms in patients found in the field.

All because he had decided he wanted to be sure he would never contract Oripathy himself, having seen the way it ravaged several friends and students of his.

That “expertise” led to now, where he was one of several non-medical operators in Rhodes Island’s employ helping with receiving Infected visitors from Siesta after the landship had docked. What was notable about it was that Ranma was the only such receiver who was not, himself, Infected. His line, as a result, was noticeably shorter—the Infected seemed to prefer talking to their fellow Infected about the problem.

Ranma figured that was up to their discretion.

“Alright, that’s everything,” Ranma said as he finished entering the latest visitor’s information into his portable terminal.

“That’s it?” the young Perro man asked, blinking.

“That’s it for the patient onboarding,” Ranma explained. “The medical team now has all of your information, including how to contact you. If you want to stay aboard, we’ve got a lounge area past reception you can wait in and someone should be out here in maybe an hour at most, otherwise we’ll reach out in a couple of hours to call you back for the initial examination.”

“And you don’t think I’m just looking for narcotics?”

Ranma shrugged. “Even at a quick glance, I see the Oripathy lacerations on your arm where your initial Infection started. Most people I know like that look for some kind of pain relief,” he replied. “If all you’re after is pain relief, then that’s what you’ll probably get.”

The Perro nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’ll wait in the lounge,” he said.

Ranma gave him a thumbs up and a smile before turning over his shoulder and pointing. “That door right there,” he said, and the Perro got up and began walking. “Pretty sure there’s a coffee maker and some snacks and things in there. But I also don’t think the coffee has been touched since it was brewed this morning.”

The Perro gave a pained laugh. “Sounds like another day at the office,” he said. “Thanks for the warning.”

Ranma reset his terminal to a fresh entry form. “Next!” he called. The one who sat next was a young woman with brown hair, wearing a fairly nice black dress that accentuated her figure quite well. At a glance, Ranma could not see any of the usual tells of any of the Ancient, Elder, or Teekaz races he was used to, but assumed she was just likely a Liberi or Phidia whose tells were more subtle. Even a quick glance, however, told him where she had likely suffered the initial onset of her Oripathy—her eyes had black-stained sclera, her pupils were hexagonal instead of circular, and even the irises had sharp, jagged lines.

“Not very pretty, are they?” the woman asked. “It’s where I was infected, along with a bit in my mouth, if you were wondering.”

“Hell of a conversation starter, I guess,” Ranma said, quickly noting the relevant information on the form. “I’m gonna go ahead and assume you have a lot of vision and headache related symptoms.”

“Today’s a nine,” she admitted. “As usual, I didn’t want to get out of bed, but I wanted to be in the first group to be here.”

A “nine,” she had said. Ranma assumed that was the pain she was suffering even as she spoke to him, typically out of a scale of ten. One of his trainees, the Cautus sniper Kroos, used such a scale, and Ranma had come to associate her facial expression with pain numbers. The wider her fake smile, the higher the pain number.

He entered the information into the file. “And your vision?”

“Usually not too bad. Today, it’s mostly the pain blurring everything. On good days, I can see well enough to get away with it. Today’s funny, though; I can’t tell what race you are at a glance—you don’t have any of the usual signs of an Elder or Ancient, and you’re definitely not a Teekaz.”

Ranma chuckled. “Yeah, don’t wanna blow your mind or anything, but I’m not from around here. Where I’m from, I’m just a ‘Human,’ because we don’t have Elders and Ancients and Teekaz.”

The brunette froze, eyes widening slightly, and she squinted narrowly at him. “You’re… you’re human?” she asked in a small voice. Ranma’s eyebrows immediately went up. “I thought… I was the only one… You’re from Earth?”

Ranma blinked. “Yeah. Tokyo, actually.”

“I’m from Tokyo! This is amazing, what a strange coincidence… I was in Nerima City before I ended up here in Siesta.”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but I was in Nerima City, too,” Ranma said with a chuckle. “Furinkan ward. I was kind of a local celebrity, but not always in a good way.”

The woman froze again, barely taking a shallow breath. She placed her hands on the table, squinting and leaning a bit closer in order to see. Suddenly, she gasped, recoiling back with wide eyes. “R-Ranma-kun?!”

Ranma blinked again. “You… know me?” he said, narrowing his eyes and looking her over again. Now that he knew she was human, she did look familiar. He was about to ask her name when she practically threw herself over the table at him, hugging him like he was some kind of human life preserver.

“I don’t believe it, it is you, Ranma-kun!” she said, almost with desperate relief. She leaned back, wiping at her eyes. “I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me with my eyes all messed up and like this. It’s me—Nabiki Tendo!”

Ranma’s jaw hung open for a good several minutes after that.

The onboarding took longer than normal for this particular patient. Those waiting didn’t seem to mind—in fact, somehow, Ranma’s line ended up completely empty except for Nabiki as he began entering her information. For her part, in response to every question he asked, she had a question of her own. “And how did you end up with Rhodes Island?” she asked after he confirmed the timeline of her Infection.

“I got picked up by some folks in the Lateran branch office. I was apparently comatose for two days so they sent me to the landship for further treatment. I woke up about two days after that, and after I showed Doc K what I could do, she wanted to sign me on. Have you noticed any complications with your Infection besides the compromised vision and cephalalgia?”

“Big words… Actually, yes,” she said, reaching into her handbag. She set a small box on the desk, removing its lid. “Ever since I was Infected, I actually noticed I have a power to manipulate and stimulate the growth of crystal formations, things like ice or gemstones. I can even move them just with a thought.” From the box, a pair of tiny diamonds floated up, and one ricocheted off of the table for a moment, leaving a sparkling growth in its wake.

Ranma, however, quickly grabbed the two tiny diamonds out of the air with an alarmed expression. “Nabiki, stop!” he said, and he felt the diamonds go inert. He quickly dropped them into the box, seeing her confused expression. “Nobody ever told you, did they? You have Originium Arts.”

“Actually, I do know that,” Nabiki replied.

“Did you know that using them without a purpose-built Arts Unit can worsen your Oripathy?” Ranma said, putting the lid back on. Her eyes widened as she gave a slight shudder. “I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“No… No, I didn’t,” Nabiki replied. “I just knew that I’ve had this power since getting Infected. Ranma-kun, how do you know so much about Oripathy?”

“Besides working for Rhodes Island?” Ranma replied dryly. “Most of our staff are Infected and we work primarily on research for Oripathy. But I’m part of their armed division. I learned about Oripathy because I saw what it was doing to my coworkers and wanted to know more about it. More importantly, knowing how much pain it put ‘em in and what it was doing to their bodies and lifespan, I wanted to know how to minimize the risk of getting it myself.”

Nabiki nodded. “That explains why you, an uninfected, don’t have the same response so many uninfected do.”

“Right, I already know it’s not contagious that way,” Ranma said with a nod of his own. “I learned a lot, Nabiki. Some of it fighting, some of it not. But I’m not the same brainless moron I was in Furinkan.”

“That’s fair,” Nabiki said. “I hope you’ll give me the same consideration, Ranma-kun. I’m not the same greedy, selfish, bloodsucking bitch I was back in Furinkan, either.”

Ranma nodded, a contemplative look on his face as he considered it. Nabiki had been… refreshingly honest. While, obviously, he had had a few months of separation by now for the memory to color, he remembered a woman who was conniving, duplicitous, and focused entirely on acquiring money by any means necessary. She would frequently mock or deride him for her own amusement, even when her life was literally in his hands.

That was not happening here. She had made no attempt to extract money from him—in fact, she would be expected to pay money here for treatment for the Oripathy she had contracted, but had made no attempts at getting special treatment or squeezing a favor out of him. There was no teasing or dismissal of him. In fact, she was practically hanging on his every word as if she were expecting him to rebuff her or send her away. Her eyes, he realized, showed a tension that she had hidden masterfully in the rest of her body.

“Nabiki,” he said, getting her attention back as it had drifted while he thought it over. “Rhodes Island believes in second chances. And even now, so do I. We don’t care about ‘then,’ only about ‘now.’ As far as I’m concerned, everything between us on Earth is back on Earth. Like we said, we’re both pretty different after our time on Terra.”

Nabiki let out a sigh, her shoulders drooping as she slumped slightly. “Thank you, Ranma-kun. I’ve been so worried they’d somehow know the kind of person I used to be… and that they’d turn me away…”

Ranma scoffed, flapping his hand dismissively. “Nah. Heck, there’s like five people aboard who have deliberately tried to kill me and we’re giving a couple of ‘em jobs,” he said. “And the others are getting treatment.”

Nabiki’s lips quirked in a familiar, sardonic smirk. “So, you haven’t changed that much after all.”

Ranma gave a slight grin in response. “Have you changed that much?”

“No… I guess not.”

“Just in the ways that matter.” Ranma finished the submission of Nabiki’s paperwork. The lines had subsided at that point. “Looks like the initial rush is over… You wanna wait in the lounge?”

“Actually, would it be alright to walk around with you, if you’re not staying here?” Nabiki asked. “It’s just… nice to catch up with someone who I actually know. Earth was starting to feel like an Oripathy-induced fever dream.”

“We should be good now that the rush is over, Striker,” one of the other line-holders said. “Thanks for the help.”

Ranma gave her a thumbs up. “You bet! One sec, Nabiki.” He tapped his PRTS link. “Hey, little bunny, you online?”

“Amiya here, Striker. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just finished up with the initial rush. One of our new patients, though, she’s from Earth like me.”

“She—she is?” Amiya was silent for a moment. “Then it’s a good thing you’re so fastidious about our hazardous procedures…”

“Kinda thinking the same thing. Would it be alright if I gave her the 5 LMD tour of Rhodes Island while waiting for a medic to be available for her?”

“Oh, of course! In fact, the Doctor and I were just finishing up our shore leave schedules. Would you be able to bring her by my office? I’d love to meet someone else from Earth!”

Ranma gave Nabiki a questioning look, and the brunette nodded. “Sure thing, little bunny. We’ll swing by in just a few minutes.”

“Looking forward to it. Amiya out!”

Ranma locked the terminal for the desk and stood up, stretching. “You just got an invite to meet both of my bosses, Nabiki. That makes you a VIP guest now,” he said with a grin.

“Then if any of the people who want to kill you show up, you’ll protect me, right?” she replied.

“Well, they don’t want to kill me anymore… I think. Mostly. Pretty sure Dr. Kal’tsit wants me dead but I think Ascalon laughed her out of SWEEP’s office when asked about it.” Ranma beckoned and Nabiki joined him in walking through a nearby hatch into the corridors of the landship. It was a short walk through lines of people eagerly buzzing around and waiting for shore leave, but Ranma still had to give a few smiles and waves in response to being greeted.

“Popular, aren’t you?” Nabiki asked. “And not just with the girls. But I am noticing it’s almost all Infected that seem so happy to see you.”

“Remind me to tell you about the Chernobog and Lungmen incidents after you’ve met the Doc and the little bunny.”

“Lungmen? You’ve been to Lungmen? I’ve always wanted to visit ever since hearing about it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t recommend it now,” Ranma muttered darkly.

“Why not?”

“Lots of reasons, but starting with the fact that when we left, half the city was kind of burning,” Ranma said. “There were some really angry Infected there and all. Then there’s the fact that apparently Lungmen’s leadership decided to burn the slums and everyone in ‘em, mostly because there were Infected there and the whole ‘stirred up Infected angry’ incident.”

“That’s… that’s horrible,” Nabiki said.

“It was the Reunion movement. They started in Ursus and then went to Lungmen and started stirring up trouble in the slums and attacking the city. We showed up a little before the attacks began and Lungmen contracted us to help defend the city.” Ranma shrugged at Nabiki. “But we did it our way.”

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. “You mean, Rhodes Island didn’t kill anyone.”

“I’d call it a ‘last resort’ kinda thing, personally. I just did my job and protected people, that’s all,” Ranma said, then knocked on a hatch before opening it. “Little bunny, we’re here!”

“You could at least call me by name when you’re on the clock and introducing someone to me,” Amiya said with a slight pout from her desk. The Doctor, wrapped in his usual shrouded hood, sat next to the desk, though not quite in front of it. “But come in, Striker.”

“I’m guessing Striker is your codename for missions?” Nabiki asked as she walked through the hatch with Ranma.

“Yep. Elite Operator—and Instructor—Striker, here. And these are my bosses, Amiya,” Ranma motioned meaningfully to the Cautus, who waved, “and the Doctor.” The hooded figure nodded. “Amiya’s in charge of the company, and the Doctor is our armed division’s chief strategic officer. There’s also Doc Kal’tsit, our chief of medical. Dunno where she is.”

“She’s overseeing the influx of patients from Siesta,” the Doctor explained.

“And plotting my death,” Ranma quipped. “Doc, little bunny, this is Nabiki Tendo. She’s actually from Tokyo, on Earth, just like me.”

“Miss Tendo, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Amiya said, smiling warmly as she held her hand out. Nabiki’s eyes settled for a moment on the offered hand before taking it.

“So the president of the company is a fellow Infected,” Nabiki said with a thin smile.

“What’s the old saying? I’m not only the president, I’m a patient,” Amiya said with a chuckle. “Please, have a seat.”

Nabiki sat in one of the chairs, while Ranma leaned against the wall. “Ranma-kun hasn’t been too much of a burden, has he? Back home, he was always getting into fights. He never started them, but he was always in them.”

“Oh, that hasn’t changed,” Amiya said, smiling teasingly at Ranma. “But far from being a burden, he’s been a wonderful asset for Rhodes Island. He’s a real stickler for our hazardous operations procedures and actually one of our field experts in Catastrophe conditions and Oripathy with all the studying he’s done.”

Nabiki gave a whistle, eyebrows rising.

“I just don’t want to contract Oripathy myself,” Ranma admitted. “The debilitating pain and shortened lifespan… I mean, my life’s already gonna be short enough as is with the job I have.”

“And, as I’m sure you expected, he’s one of our more proficient combat operators and an extremely proficient instructor,” the Doctor added.

“Still unsure about the Instructor part, that’s throwing me a bit, but I figured he was pretty capable. And popular, I noticed, especially with the Infected.”

“Striker saved… a lot of Infected lives back in Lungmen and in Chernobog. At the end especially, when the hostilities were at their highest, he managed to convince several groups of Reunion fighters to surrender peacefully and talked the Lungmen Guard out of hostilities,” Amiya explained. “Then he went to Chernobog and…” Amiya trailed off, her ears drooping slightly as she sat back in her chair.

“Amiya,” the Doctor said softly. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” Amiya said. “If I had been stronger…”

“I’m pretty sure Instructor Dobermann and Operator Nearl both had some pretty choice things to say about me having an attitude like that when we first came back from Chernobog, little bunny,” Ranma said in a low tone. “We all did our part when we were fighting Talulah. Your part just needed a little bit longer to get ready.”

“I’m sorry, did something happen?” Nabiki asked, turning to look between Ranma and Amiya.

“We confronted the leader of Reunion, Talulah,” Amiya said. “But I needed time… I needed five minutes.”

“And I made sure she got six,” Ranma said.

“You nearly died in the process,” Amiya shot back. “That’s unacceptable.”

“It happens, little bunny,” Ranma shot back just as fiercely. “I’ll do everything I can to stay alive but I’m also gonna do everything I can to protect the people around me. I’ve known the risks since I was ten years old. I’m not gonna take stupid risks but I accept that it can happen no matter what I do.”

“It’s true,” Nabiki said quietly, causing Amiya and Ranma to glance at her as if they had forgotten about her. “Sometimes things can happen that you have no control of. And it only takes five minutes.”

Amiya smiled sadly at Nabiki. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch at your scars while absentmindedly scratching at mine. I definitely didn’t mean to start bickering with Striker right in front of you.”

“It’s alright, another thing Ranma-kun was very good at was bickering,” Nabiki said, smirking at Ranma. He simply rolled his eyes. “But he was also very good at saving… my little sister. From whatever messes she managed to end up in. And occasionally saving the rest of us, too. Has he told you about his past?”

“Only mostly about some of the fights, he never really went into detail,” Amiya lied. It was partially true, Ranma knew, as Amiya had drawn on his memories of those fights to fuel her Arts in the fight against Talulah, but he had never told her about them.

“Well, my father had decided to engage my sisters and I—rather, in the form of ‘one of you will do it’—to a man named Picolette Chardin,” Nabiki said. “I—well, wait, I should…”

“I told everyone about the curse already, Nabiki, don’t worry.”

“Right, okay, good, didn’t want to spill that on you… Anyway, Ranma-kun’s dad did the same thing, but had no daughter. So the Saotomes were in the clear. Ranma-kun almost walked out of the room when Chardin said he’d just take all three of us instead. He snapped around so fast that I’m surprised he didn’t give himself whiplash, said the Saotome family does have a daughter, and went to get some cold water.”

“Oh! To come back in his female form and pretend to be the daughter of the Saotome clan and take your place?”

Nabiki nodded. “Exactly. Chardin was so immediately smitten with the vision of red-haired beauty that he dropped us like a bad habit and went for Ranma-kun. That turned into a whole fiasco involving the Chardin family’s style of martial arts,” she said, nodding to Ranma. “He can tell you more about that.”

Ranma flapped a hand dismissively in front of his face. “Feh, nothing to tell. Their martial arts style centered around weird contortions and stretching of their body.”

“Which was really gross to watch, I promise,” Nabiki said with a smirk. “But that’s just how Ranma-kun is. You’ll just have to get used to that one, Miss Bunny. He’s not the type who can sit idly by when someone needs help.”

Amiya smiled again, looking over at Ranma who flushed slightly and turned away. “I know, and you’re right. That’s even why we hired him. As soon as he heard about the plight of the Infected, he couldn’t sign up quickly enough.”

“But that also means he’s accepted the risks of his job. He knows he might end up getting badly hurt over the course of a fight to protect someone.” Nabiki leaned forward slightly. “All you have to do, Miss Bunny, is learn to accept that. As long as you don’t take advantage of it…”

“I would never!”

“Then it’s probably fine,” Nabiki said firmly, sitting back. “Because Ranma-kun also has a bad habit of letting cute girls like you take advantage of him,” she added with a grin at Ranma.

“You used to charge for giving away my secrets like that, Nabiki,” Ranma shot back with his own grin. “Besides, I’m getting paid to fight strong guys.”

“A dream come true for you, I’m sure,” Nabiki said with a roll of her eyes.

A small chime from Ranma’s terminal interrupted further banter. “Striker, do you read?” Kal’tsit’s voice came from the speakers now.

“Striker here, Doc. Go ahead.”

“About the last patient you submitted the file for, Nabiki Tendo. Is she with you?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Please escort her to Medical. We have an opening for her.”

Ranma raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure, you got it. Be there in a few minutes,” he said. “Striker out.”

“Everything alright, Ranma-kun?” Nabiki asked.

“Just… weird that a spot opened up so fast,” Ranma said. “I expected it to be at least a couple hours since there were lots of people coming on.”

“It’s probably fine,” the Doctor said, standing up. “I’d appreciate it if you could escort me down there as well, Striker.”

Ranma crossed his arms behind his head. “Do I get double pay for double duty?”

“Denied,” Amiya said with a smile. “Please do it anyway.”

“Fine, but only because you said ‘please,’” Ranma said, standing up.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Tendo,” Amiya said as the trio left. She murmured something just as the hatch began to close, but Ranma was only barely able to hear it. It almost sounded like, “I’m sure we’ll be speaking again soon.”

Nabiki did not intimidate easily. This was something that she had held onto tightly back in her old life, enabling her to stare down martial artists who could break her like a twig without flinching. There was an important balance she had found between not being intimidated and attempting to intimidate in return, of course. It was a line she made sure to never cross. She got plenty of practice at the skill thanks to Ranma.

Which meant that even sitting naked on an examination bed while a purple-haired woman with a Sarkaz’s horns examined her was not intimidating in the slightest. Nor was the Feline woman, who Nabiki noted bore the crystalline growths of Oripathy on her skin, particularly intimidating as she stood and watched.

On the other hand, the white-haired, wyvern-like Vouivre woman who was also present and watching was very intimidating. Nabiki had to admit, she wasn’t even sure why the “Dr. Kal’tsit” or “Dr. Saria” were present, since the woman examining her, “Hibiscus,” seemed to have things well in hand. A blood sample had been taken and sent for analysis of her Infection level, along with various tissue samples to see how her body would respond to different medications. Eventually, Hibiscus had apparently run out of tests.

“That’s everything,” the purple-haired woman said. “Once we get results back from the lab about drug response, we’ll have an appropriate prescription for you.” She turned and handed her terminal to Kal’tsit, who took it without breaking her gaze. “Will there be anything else, Doctor?”

“No, thank you, Hibiscus. Good work,” the Feline woman said. With that, Hibiscus took her leave. “Would you like to get dressed?”

“I think I would,” Nabiki replied. It took almost no time at all to do so, and Nabiki felt a little more of her dignity return. “Now, what can I do for you, Doctors?”

“You have Originium Arts,” Kal’tsit said, looking at the terminal. “But according to what you told Striker, you didn’t have them before. Of course, this makes sense—your world doesn’t have Originium, does it?”

“I don’t think of that world as ‘my world’ anymore,” Nabiki replied coolly. “I couldn’t go back even if I wanted to, thanks to my Infection. Which, as far as I can tell, is also the catalyst for my Originium Arts Assimilation.”

“Would you be willing to indulge us in a test of how far your Arts can go?” Saria asked. “We can provide an Arts Unit for you.”

“Will it be worth my time?”

“We will offer you a rate equal to our standard contractor fees for a minimum of one hour. More, if you stay for longer tests,” Kal’tsit replied. “Which should rather nicely pay for your medical bills if our idea doesn’t play out how I think it will.”

“And if it does?”

“Then you won’t have to worry about the medical bills at all.”

It was a short trip to Training Room One after that ominous statement. Nabiki made a small-talk-level observation about the equipment looking brand new. For some reason, Kal’tsit seemed annoyed by the remark while Saria had a very slight smirk. The Vouivre woman retrieved what looked like a little wand with a glimmering crystal on the end, handing it to Nabiki. “This will allow you to safely focus your Arts,” she said. “Concentrate the same will you use to activate them into the crystal instead of into yourself.”

Nabiki concentrated on the small crystal, seeing a light glowing within it as she did. Her free hand retrieved her box from her bag, removing its lid and allowing her little seed diamonds to levitate out of the velvet interior. “It usually hurts a little just to do this much,” she noted. “It doesn’t this time…”

“As Striker undoubtedly informed you,” Kal’tsit began. “Use of your Arts without an Arts Unit activates the Originium inside of your body, accelerating the progress of your Oripathy.”

“He did mention that… He really is well-educated now,” Nabiki mused, concentrating on moving her seed diamonds through the air. On a whim, she ricocheted one off the table in front of her, causing vine-like growths of diamond to begin to form on the table top.

“Is this the manifestation of your Arts?” Saria asked. “Manipulation and growth of crystal frameworks?”

“As far as I can tell, yes,” Nabiki said. “I’ve only used them a few times to defend myself, and a couple of times to make lab-grade diamonds that I was able to sell.”

“Can you affect other gemstones, or only diamonds?” Kal’tsit asked.

“I can affect just about anything that forms a crystalline molecular matrix. The first time my Arts manifested, I did it with a couple ice cubes in someone’s drink. Why?”

Kal’tsit nodded to Saria and the Vouivre woman produced a heavy trunk from under the table, though she lifted it as if it weighed nothing. As she opened it, Nabiki’s eyes widened. Inside were a variety of different kinds of crystal, ranging from what she recognized as ordinary “lead crystal” to a sample of quartz, several different gemstones, and even a few sealed glass tubes holding what looked like salt crystals.

“How did you get all this prepared so quickly?” she asked.

“Before we came to Siesta, we investigated the city,” Kal’tsit said. “There were rumors that we were able to confirm about a woman called ‘the Diamond Broker,’ who dealt in information but got her name from her Arts, which seemed tied to a pair of seed diamonds she always kept on her person.” She motioned to the trunk. “Additional information we were able to confirm included that the Diamond Broker was Infected. In fact, all of her factors in Siesta were also Infected.”

Nabiki went silent, her seed diamonds landing back in their box as she lowered the Arts Unit, staring at Kal’tsit.

“But what we found most impressive… was that her workers were happy with her. You run a tight ship according to some of them, but they truly appreciate you as their employer,” Kal’tsit said. “You treat them well and pay them well. Of course, only a fellow Infected could understand how much that means to us.”

“Well, given my own situation…”

“That was why we wanted to meet you in person,” Kal’tsit said. “There is information we would like to purchase from you about the state of affairs in Siesta. We would also like to continue this demonstration of your Arts.” She pointed to a far wall, where Saria had just finished setting up several armored dummies. “Depending on how much you impress us with that… we might have a job offer for you.”

Nabiki raised an eyebrow… and the Arts Unit.

“She scored a what?” Amiya squeaked.

“Out of a possible 100 points that could have been earned on the assessment of her Arts assimilation, she scored 96,” Saria replied. “Her physical condition is… well, by my standards, it’s pathetic, but it can be improved and I acknowledge that my standards may be considered unreasonable.”

“I doubt Striker would,” Kal’tsit muttered.

“Her personal combat skill is also fairly lacking. Again, this is likely something we can work on, and I’m sure Striker will insist,” Saria continued as if the Feline hadn’t said anything. “At least, given their apparent friendly exchange at the patient intake. You could undoubtedly shed further light on that, Miss Amiya.”

“Yes, they… they bantered like old friends,” Amiya admitted. “Likely he would insist on ensuring she… that you, Miss Nabiki… are capable of defending yourself.”

The subject of the conversation, Nabiki Tendo, sat in a chair in front of Amiya’s desk. The Doctor was also present as before, though Nabiki had a hard time reading him through the cloaked hood. Still, she had a distinct sense that he was pleased about something. She shrugged slightly at Amiya’s regard. “I admit, I’m not the martial artist Ranma-kun is, obviously. I’m not even the martial artist my sister is… or was. I could probably use a brush up.”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Amiya said. “Depending on the position you take at Rhodes Island, your pay can be a bit… variable. Ranma, for instance, is on a scaled pay due to his position as an instructor, but also receives mission bonuses. When he was originally hired on, it was only as a mission Operator so he only received payment from missions. Can you think of a position that would be valuable to us outside of acting as a mission Operator?”

“Contract negotiator and information broker,” Nabiki replied immediately. “You’ve already admitted to me you’d like to purchase some information about Siesta from me. I’ve also noticed you have some very attractive people on board. I have contacts in Marthe who can cut you an excellent deal for professional photo modeling of some of their outfits. I also have some contacts with other companies who might offer similar deals, and I’m a very skilled negotiator, if I do say so myself.”

“We could always use more sources of funding,” Amiya admitted. “So that would help, but—”

“I can also broker on your behalf for information about other areas we, meaning Rhodes Island, need to deploy into, as well as help with negotiating material contracts, sales, and purchases at port with merchants and suppliers.”

Saria and Kal’tsit shared a look. “That could be useful,” the Feline admitted.

“Very.”

“Doctor, what do you think?” Amiya asked, turning to her left to consult the hooded figure.

“I think Miss Tendo will more than earn her wage,” the Doctor said. “I even know exactly the team to put her on. And I would very much like to hear news about current events here in Siesta.”

Nabiki did not intimidate easily. The silver-haired Vouivre, Saria, was an exception to that rule.

It looked like the hooded Doctor was as well.

Ranma hated shopping. Ranma especially hated shopping for clothes. The old Chinese tunics could probably only be found in Lungmen, and Ranma was not planning to go back there for some time, and the Rhodes Island uniform was actually quite comfortable and looked good. So clothes shopping was rarely needed.

Because Ranma hated it. Especially as a girl.

The gorgeous redhead, however, did not hate the company she was in, her arm linked with Cantabile’s as the two wandered through Siesta’s shopping district. Accompanying Ranma and her girlfriend—something Ranma was admittedly still coming to terms with—were Nearl, Gavial, Ch’en, and Yelena, though the white-haired Cautus was sporting a parasol. While she had a hard time maintaining a warm body temperature—even now, months later and with her control better than it had ever been, the Operator also known as “FrostNova” still emitted a cold chill wherever she went—she also apparently had skin that was very sensitive to bright sunlight.

The very first stop was the stop Ranma dreaded the most. At least it meant it would be over fast. Shopping for bathing suits.

Gavial insisted on getting hers first. In her words, and the other three besides Cantabile had agreed, she wanted to get Ranma’s opinion on if a particular suit looked good on her before Ranma’s brain fried because of Cantabile in a swimsuit. And that was when Ranma discovered a key difference about shopping on Terra compared to shopping, especially for bathing suits with attractive girls, on Earth.

When Gavial stepped out of the changing room in her new dark green two-piece bikini that nicely accentuated her shape and figure, Cantabile did not jealously attack Ranma for looking. The other girls did not angrily bicker to pull Ranma’s attention away, or attempt to drag Gavial down to get her out of Ranma’s sight. In fact, Cantabile seemed mildly interested in the sight as well, leaning into Ranma as the Archosauria medic turned hither and fro to show off.

And, more importantly, when Gavial finally asked Ranma what she thought, there was no angry explosion when Ranma could only say, “You look good but the suit really doesn’t.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so, either,” Gavial admitted. “I think it’s the color. I’ve got a few others, though!” And back into the changing room she ducked.

“Definitely the color,” Nearl agreed. “Well, while she goes through what she picked, I should grab a few. Might as well relax since we’re at the beach.”

Gavial’s next attempt was a blazing red one-piece. The color aside, the cut was not very flattering and as Ranma said so a bit more confidently, Gavial nodded as if it were expected and ducked back into the changing room. Ch’en and Yelena chose that moment to browse for something themselves.

“I’ll wait until everyone else has made their selections,” Cantabile said in response to Ranma’s questioning look. “I want your attention entirely on me for that moment. Besides… I’ve never shopped for a bathing suit myself. I… I’d like to let the others go first so I have some ideas on what to get.”

“You wanna go before or after me?”

Cantabile contemplated her redheaded girlfriend. “Before,” she concluded with a nod. “That way, since you’ve spent all this time suffering through shopping and having to judge ours, we can help you in return.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m really suffering, getting to see a bunch of cute girls in swimsuits and bikinis,” Ranma quipped with a grin. Almost on reflex, her grin faded as she looked around as if expecting a blow. Cantabile gave Ranma a curious tilt of her head as no hammer manifested to smite Ranma for her indiscretions. “Ne-Never mind,” she said in response to Cantabile’s look. Idly, the redhead made note to book another session with her therapist, Dr. Saunders, later.

Gavial’s last suit was a bright blue two-piece, the cut of which was very flattering to her figure. It also came with a sailor-style cap and jacket that she sported with it, and she had apparently found some nice sandals to match it. Ranma’s approval was echoed by Cantabile and the returning Nearl, and Gavial swiftly went to purchase it. She returned just in time to see Nearl step out in a sleek black one-piece.

“It looks good on you, Margaret, but are you sure you wanna give everyone on the beach the wrong idea by wearing a thong?” Gavial asked.

The Kuranta woman turned slightly, unconsciously rolling her hip out while trying to look over her shoulder and past her tail. “That’s odd, it wasn’t advertised as a thong,” she murmured.

Cantabile, for her part, made a sound as if she had found religion, eyes wide and hands coming up to cover her mouth. Ranma simply turned around so as not to say anything, her face flushing bright red.

“I think that’s a one and done, then,” Gavial said with a cheeky grin. “Guess even seeing her in the nude doesn’t make you immune to seeing all the junk in that trunk again, huh, Ranma?”

“It was once!” Ranma protested without turning around. “And an accident! I didn’t mean to! Also like six months ago!”

“Ranma, I’m not upset about then and I don’t mind you looking now. The point, in fact, is to look, since I’m very deliberately seeking out your opinion on if it looks good on me,” Nearl said in an almost gentle tone. As Ranma slowly turned as if to peek, the redhead saw that Nearl had her hands on her hips, almost expectantly. “So?”

Ranma managed a shaky thumbs up. “You, uh, look real good, Nearl.”

“She could make a burlap sack look good,” Cantabile mumbled, looking down at herself uncertainly.

“Ah, don’t worry just because Nearl has more junk in the trunk than you. That just means more padding if you talk her into joining you and Ranma sometime,” Gavial said. “And just for the record, we’re off the clock so that’s not an HR violation.”

“Barely,” Nearl said with a chuckle. “Alright, I’ll take this one.” With that, she began walking toward the front of the store. Ranma made a choked sound and Cantabile made another sound as if she had found religion at the sight of Nearl walking away.

“But I get being kind of jealous of how good she looks,” Gavial admitted in a lower tone. “She’s got a body that is absolutely rocking.”

“I need a cold shower after this,” Ranma admitted as she ran a hand down her face. “Erk! I mean, uh…”

“I understand what you mean,” Cantabile said. She leaned into her girlfriend slightly. “I might need one, too,” she admitted in a whisper to Ranma. The admission did make Ranma feel a little better.

Ch’en’s selection was a racy black two-piece that was, in fact, a thong. Though after showing it off initially, she mitigated the impact slightly with a pair of white ultra-short shorts that still left a flush on Ranma’s face as the Lung woman left to make her purchase. There was something oddly satisfied and strutting about the way she walked away that made Ranma nervous.

Yelena’s outfit was a bit more modest. It was, habitually for her, a white top that matched her hair and ears and which nicely flattered her upper body while also exposing the black crystalline growths and veins on her skin. She did also have a sailor shirt open and thrown over her shoulders, and wore white shorts as well. All in all, with her hair half-covering her face, Ranma’s response was quite simple.

“That’s a pretty cute look, Frostbunny,” she said with a smirk.

“My codename is not Frostbunny,” Yelena replied with vehemence. “I’m still FrostNova. I’m just… FrostNova of Rhodes Island.”

“It’s still a cute look for you!” Gavial said as she approached, still wearing her swimsuit. “I say go with it.”

“Fine… but I don’t have any money,” Yelena said, looking pointedly at Ranma. “I haven’t yet been cleared for missions.”

“I’ll spot you, my instructor salary and the bonus I got for Chernobog was pretty nice,” Ranma said.

“I believe it’s Cantabile’s turn now,” Nearl said, crossing her arms. “Then Ranma after that.”

Cantabile took only a few minutes to grab some choices, quickly slipping into the changing room and leaving Ranma alone with the others. “Hey, let’s leave the lovebirds alone for a bit,” Gavial suggested. “Let Saotome get some alone time with Cantabile while we pick some suits out for him.”

“Is saying ‘lovebirds’ about a romantic partnership involving a Liberi racist?” Yelena wondered aloud as she and Ch’en wandered off together into the store. Nearl and Gavial went their own separate ways, leaving Ranma alone with the changing room curtain.

Relax, the redhead told herself. This isn’t Furinkan. Nobody’s gonna show up and hit you and scream at you for looking at girls in bikinis. A slightly dopey smile formed on her face as she considered that she was, in fact, being expected to look at girls in bikinis. Especially one girl in a bikini who was about to show off to her.

Her smile died as a distinctly masculine arm went around her shoulders. “Well, hey there, beautiful,” a Rebbah man said as he tried to pull Ranma closer into his impromptu embrace. His hyena-like muzzle turned up in an almost grinning rictus, and his furry face smelled freshly shampooed. “You lookin’ for company?”

“Because we can be real good company,” a Phidia man said from her other side. His yellow eyes, their pupils slitted like a snake’s, roamed over Ranma’s body, and his grin exposed the snake-like fangs. He wore a beach shirt that was left loosely open to expose a physique that Ranma honestly found pathetic, along with swim trunks, with a hole cut for his snake tail, and sandals. His Rebbah friend was dressed similarly, though he had gone with dark coloring that matched his fur while the Phidia went with lighter colors. The Rebbah was at least in somewhat decent shape, though Ranma was still distinctly unimpressed.

“Already got plenty good company and not lookin’ for more,” Ranma replied in a deadpan tone.

“Hey, if your company’s as gorgeous as you, they can come along. You wouldn’t have a very good stay in Siesta if you turned us down,” the Phidia replied.

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“Does it have to be?” the Rebbah asked.

“No, see, I had to ask because that was the most pitiful threat I’ve heard in a while,” Ranma said, easily breaking the Rebbah’s hold and turning to face the two men. She crossed her arms to help emphasize her point, but by the dumb expressions they suddenly sported, figured she only ended up emphasizing her chest to them in the tight shirt she wore. “Look, I’m feelin’ nice, so I’ll show you how to really threaten someone, and then you can go away. Deal?”

The Rebbah’s laughter was short and barking as was typical of the hyena-like people. “Yeah, right! A tiny thing like you is gonna threaten—”

Ranma’s hands lashed out, grabbing the Phidia and Rebbah by their throats and pulling them down to her level, once again smiling. “You’re going to go away because I’m going to let you go away instead of breaking every bone in your stupid bodies, starting with the heads you should be thinking with and ending with the heads you are thinking with. This is how you threaten somebody.” Her grip tightened and the two captives began struggling against it. “Now, you’re leaving, right?” she asked as she released her grip.

The two men fled without a word, practically shrieking in terror.

“That was angrier than I expected,” Cantabile’s voice said from behind Ranma.

“It’s not your fault,” Ranma said. “I’m still holdin’ on to other anger… And yes, I’m gonna talk to Doc Saunders about it.”

“As long as you promise to talk to her about it. What do you think of my first choice?”

Ranma turned around.

“What was that?” Kal’tsit asked as the landship shook suddenly.

“Earthquake? Catastrophe?” Ascalon suggested. “Instruments aren’t reporting anything… just a sudden impact.”

“Weird,” Projekt Red muttered.

Ranma took a moment to reel in her jaw. It wasn’t that there was anything especially risque or racy about Cantabile’s first try, just that the pretty Liberi wore it very well. Cantabile turned around slowly, allowing Ranma to appreciate the sleek black one-piece as it clung to her curves, and a flush rose in Ranma’s cheeks as she realized that she was expected to appreciate those curves now, and would not get in trouble for doing so.

It occurred to Ranma that she was expected to offer some form of feedback. Nodding jerkily, she raised her left hand to offer a thumbs up. “L-Looks good! Great! Real greatly!” she stammered out.

Cantabile’s smile turned almost incandescent. “I’ll try the next one, but this is a keep,” she said, slipping back into the changing room. After either an eternity, no time at all, or about eight or nine minutes, she stepped back out into view. The new swimsuit was a sky blue color and a two-piece and the Liberi seemed quite happy to guide Ranma’s eyes over her body as she turned to and fro.

“I think that one’s a keep,” Gavial said as she came back up, holding a hangar with a one-piece bikini the same blue as Ranma’s eyes. She grinned at Ranma’s stupefied expression. “You alright there, Saotome?”

“Guh.” Ranma shook her head suddenly, smacking the heel of her hand into her forehead. “I’m ok! I’m fine! Totally fine!”

“He seems fine,” Nearl noted with a smirk, walking up with a hangar holding a green two-piece. “He even says so. Ranma, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about two young men who ran out of here screaming, would you?”

“It’s a mystery,” Ranma replied immediately.

“They probably annoyed him into scaring them off,” Yelena suggested, walking up with Ch’en. While Yelena was empty-handed, Ch’en held a hanger with a white one-piece bikini on it. “Are you done trying suits, Cantabile?”

“Yes, they’re both keeps, I don’t need to try any more,” Cantabile said, stepping out of the changing room. “I’ll go pick one for him from me, too.” The Liberi woman disappeared among the shelves.

“Guess I’ll try one while we wait,” Ranma murmured, taking the green two-piece from Nearl and entering the changing room. It didn’t take long to change, and she stepped back out just as Cantabile was coming back.

“Well, you look nice,” Gavial noted, frowning slightly.

Nearl gave a slight sigh. “It’s the color, isn’t it?” she said. “The cut is flattering but the color is all wrong for her.”

Ch’en and Yelena nodded in silent agreement. “Maybe if you could find something like it in red or blue, or even a light orange,” Cantabile suggested. She held up a hangar to Ranma.

Ranma took one look at the black strip of fabric that would barely cover anything at all and immediately held her hands up in an “X” over her chest. “Nope. Not happening,” she said.

Cantabile pouted slightly, then took on a thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’ll get it anyway… for a private vacation,” she mused.

Ears and cheeks burning at the implications, Ranma snatched the blue suit from Gavial and retreated to the changing room. Changing into the blue suit and putting the green one back on the hanger, she stepped out, handing the green suit back to Nearl.

“Oh, that’s much better,” Nearl said as she took the suit. “The cut isn’t quite as risque but the color is much more suited for her.” She walked away with the suit in her hand to return it. Ranma hoped she didn’t bring another with her.

Cantabile paced a slow circle around Ranma, nodding approvingly. “It’s very nice, very flattering,” she concluded. “I think this is a keep.”

Ch’en held out the white one. “Yelena and I both agreed on this one for you, so we hope Cantabile likes it,” she said. “It might have some hard competition with that blue one.”

Ranma snorted, heading back into the changing room. One last change took place, and this time she paused to examine herself in the mirror. Unlike the blue suit, which was fairly tame, the lower part of this white suit was cut high on her legs, revealing a great deal of her hip, while the top dipped very low and offered a view of her chest to the world at large.

“Is this some kinda twisted joke?” she muttered, heading to the changing room and stepping out just as Nearl returned. Yelena’s and Cantabile’s responses were nearly immediate, both women blushing bright red at the sight, while Gavial let out a low whistle. Nearl and Ch’en, while the most subdued, both raised their eyebrows.

Cantabile again walked a slow circle around Ranma, hands coming up to her mouth as she did. Finally, she stopped in front of the redhead, nodding silently.

“Definitely a keeper,” Gavial said, grinning. “I don’t blame her in the least.”

“Great,” Ranma said wearily. “That’s it, two’s my limit. Let’s pay and get outta here.”

With their new suits paid for and being worn out of the store—along with freshly bought sandals—Ranma asked the obvious next question. “Where to next?”

“The beach, duh,” Gavial said. “Maybe we can get some ice cream!”

“I hope there are some hot and spicy foods at the beach,” Yelena murmured.

“Enjoy the ice cream while you’re on the beach, we can get something spicy later!” Gavial suggested.

Yelena considered that. “I don’t usually like things that… lower my temperature,” she admitted. “But I suppose it’s worth a try. Do you think… maybe we’d be able to get something for Sasha and Eno?”

“Maybe they can do delivery, or we can requisition some when we go back,” Ranma suggested. “We’re here on vacation, the landship’s gonna be here a while, so we might as well take advantage of that.”

“That’s a good idea,” Yelena said, brightening.

“Go on ahead without me,” Ch’en said. “I’ll meet you out on the sand.” With that, the Lung woman departed with her bag.

Ranma’s group continued on, finding a stall to buy some ice cream at. Or, rather, they found a stall where ice cream could be purchased. A fragment of Ranma’s old self surfaced as she mercilessly teased and flirted with the young man behind the counter, who agreed to cover the group’s entire order out of his own pocket. While Yelena and Cantabile seemed entirely unbothered by the display, Nearl covered her face with the palm of one hand and Gavial seemed on the verge of exploding with laughter.

“You have absolutely no shame, do you?” Nearl asked as the group walked away from the ice cream stall. Despite her protest, she held an ice cream bar in her hand.

“Hey, if you want, we can return that,” Ranma said with two double-scoop ice cream cones that she was eagerly working at. Despite this, she nodded to the ice cream bar in Nearl’s hand. “But free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“What Ranma said!” Gavial replied, working on a banana split that had been served in a bowl made of sugar wafer. “If we can get ice cream for five people for the low, low price of ‘free’ just because Ranma waved her rack at someone, I say, ‘thanks for the free ice cream, Red.’”

Yelena made a quiet sound of agreement, apparently content with her single-scoop chocolate ice cream cone.

“It was very skillfully done,” Cantabile said, otherwise focused on her vanilla single-scoop cone. “I believe he would have done nearly anything Ranma asked.”

Nearl let out a little sigh, but made no attempt to go back to the stall, whether to return the cold treat or to pay for it. Further discussion was interrupted by the city’s public announcements system suddenly starting, “Dear tourists, welcome to Siesta, home of the annual Obsidian Festival!” a cheerful voice began. “Here, scorching heat instead turns into sizzling passion! Free yourself from the stress and exhaustion of your daily life and immerse yourself in the charms Siesta City has to offer!”

Ranma blinked as Cantabile turned slightly toward her, eyes dipping low. “Canta-chan?”

“‘Charms,’ indeed,” Nearl murmured from Ranma’s other side.

“Over the next two weeks there will be delicious food, round-the-clock fun, and the greatest music festival ever!” the announcement continued. “We’ve invited the hottest names of the musical world as our special guests to bring you a musical festival you won’t forget! On top of that, various facilities around the city are open to our guests, free of charge!”

“Siestans sure know how to show hospitality,” Gavial said, seeming somewhat impressed.

“If you want to liven it up, we recommend Civic Square’s rock party and unlimited beer as the stars of the show!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely stopping by there later.”

“If you’re looking for something more leisurely, Herman Hotel on Second Ave is a smooth jazz paradise! As long as you want to be here, we want you here!”

Cantabile leaned into Ranma again. “A quiet meal with soft jazz music sounds nice,” she suggested. Ranma nodded in agreement, continuing to demolish her ice cream.

“And the Garrison Amusement Park will be open 24/7 during the festival with the biggest stage in the entire city! Besides the regularly scheduled shows, we also have some guest appearances—if you’re a fan of rap, you won’t want to miss out! Please ask any staff or guard members for a map and schedule programme for the city! And remember to pay attention to the weather: it’s a balmy 36 degrees out today, the hottest on record, so make sure you don’t catch heatstroke or sunburn by playing in the sun too long! We hope you enjoy our hospitality!”

“Sounds like a good time,” Ranma said as she finished off the first of her cones.

“Hey, there’s Ch’en,” Gavial said. “Looks like she’s with a couple others…”

Ranma blinked, spotting Ch’en in her swimsuit by a changing booth on the beach. The Lung woman was standing in a shaded area, holding two ice cream bars, with a familiar figure while someone else stepped out of the changing room. As the group got closer, Ranma recognized Silence wearing a fairly simple dark blue one-piece swimsuit that she had to admit looked good on the Liberi. Ranma’s gaze slid over to the other person exiting the changing room and her eyes went wide.

Talulah, wearing a very well-fitting black bikini, looked down at Ranma with her own wide eyes. After a moment of awkward uncertainty, the Draco woman ducked back into the changing booth and pulled the door shut. Ranma slowly turned her wide eyes over to Ch’en, who shrugged. “Miss Amiya agreed to let her out, just for the day at least, at my request,” she said. “In fact, the Doctor was there, too, and he seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“Bit of forewarning would’ve been nice, I started having flashbacks there,” Ranma muttered. She shrugged, knocking on the door. “Oi, Tal-chan, c’mon out.”

The door opened, and Talulah squinted slightly at Ranma. “I haven’t been called ‘Tal-chan’ since I was a child, and only by Miss Fumizuki,” she said in a quiet voice.

“It might be overdue then,” Yelena noted mildly. “There’s no reason to be shy, Miss Talulah.”

“I nearly crippled one person here and nearly incinerated another,” Talulah replied in a deadpan tone. “And I nearly led you to your death.”

“I’ve already forgiven our encounter in Chernobog,” Nearl replied. “And Ranma has forgiven both such encounters. We’ve also been given the explanation that you weren’t in your right mind.”

“That’s definitely one way to put it,” Ranma said, pushing the door open. “C’mon, Tal-chan!” she added, grabbing the Draco’s arm and pulling her forward. Once more, Talulah was exposed to the beachfront as the shorter woman dragged her out. The bikini she wore was actually quite flattering to her figure, and Ranma felt the tiniest stab of jealousy as she caught Cantabile checking the Draco out.

“I think I might like taller women,” Cantabile finally admitted to Ranma in a small voice. Ranma’s jealousy instantly deflated at the candid admission and the redhead could only laugh.

“Fair enough, Canta-chan, I’m not exactly winning that contest,” she said.

“You could scale her like a mountain and plant a flag on her,” Gavial suggested with a grin.

“Gavial, I will kick your ass.”

“Any time, anywhe—” Gavial began. She was cut off by another voice suddenly yelling.

“Hell yeah! Beach and ocean, here I come!” The sudden outcry, which Ranma swore she recognized the voice of, was followed by a fairly tremendous splash out in the water.

“Ifrit?” Silence finally spoke up, glancing toward the splash in surprise. She quickly made her way toward the water with Ranma, and the rest of the group, right behind her. As they arrived, they realized Ifrit was flailing in the water with a panicked look—an expression soon mirrored by Silence as the panicking Savra girl was being slowly dragged away from the beach and increasingly failing to tread water. “She can’t swim!”

“Hold this,” Ranma said, handing her ice cream cone to Silence and immediately running for the water’s edge. Without slowing or stopping, Ranma glided through the water before diving forward, smoothly transitioning into a swimming posture and zipping through the water toward Ifrit. Breaking the surface, Ranma wrapped her arms around the smaller blonde, pulling her easily above the waterline. “Easy there, Ifrit, I gotcha.”

“H-Hey! Let go! I don’t know you!” Ifrit protested despite coughing up some water that had gotten in her mouth.

“It’s Ranma, saving you again just like I did in that Lateran city,” Ranma explained, beginning to swim toward the shore.

“Don’t try to pull one on me! Ranma’s a man!” Ifrit snarled, sparks starting to pop in the area around her.

“You try and light me up and I’ll dunk your head to cool you off, Ifrit,” Ranma warned. “I’ll prove I’m Ranma as soon as I get you back to shore, ok? I didn’t kick like three cars for you just to let you drown.”

Ifrit shot a surprised look at the redhead, but didn’t struggle any more as she continued to swim for shore. As soon as Ifrit’s feet touched the sands, Ranma relaxed her grip to allow her to walk the rest of the way onto the beach, while Silence and the others came running up.

“Ifrit, are you alright?!” Silence practically screamed. Ranma swiped her ice cream cone back and took a step back to allow Silence to fret over the smaller Savra girl.

“I’m fine, Silence, I’m ok!” Ifrit grumbled, trying to step away from the fretting.

“Thank you for saving her,” Silence said, looking at Ranma. “It’s Striker, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” Ranma asked.

“The way you moved going into the water. It’s the same fluidity and grace you moved with in Lateran,” Silence said, then nodded to the others. “And there’s the company you keep.”

Ranma blinked, glancing over to the others. While most of them were keeping a respectful distance, Gavial had approached to also check on Ifrit, and Talulah was staring with wide eyes at the smaller blonde girl. “Yeah… Well, they’re my friends,” Ranma said after a moment.

“One of them left you in critical condition,” Silence pointed out.

“Yeah, but that was once.” Ranma shrugged. “Anyway, I fell in a cursed spring about a year or two ago. It turned me into this. Splash of cold water, girl. Splash of hot water, boy.”

Silence nodded slowly as she processed that. “That must be… distressing,” she finally said. “I can see why you would come to the beach as a woman, though. Most any liquid here is going to be cold.”

“You might say I’m used to the idea,” Ranma said with a tired smile. “Especially now that I’m here. The only cure I know of is jumping into the cursed spring of drowned man, and unfortunately, that doesn’t exist here.” She shrugged and finished off the rest of her ice cream cone in a single bite. “Besides, it doesn’t bother them any,” she said, motioning toward the group. “Oi, Ifrit, stop causin’ trouble and let the medics make sure you didn’t inhale any seawater!” she yelled.

“Why should I?!”

“I’ll teach you how to swim!” Ranma called back.

“Really?! I mean—ok, fine, I’ll do it!” Ifrit said. She tried to affect a pouting expression but Ranma could almost literally see the eagerness in the girl’s eyes as she settled down for Gavial to check.

“Doctor,” Talulah said as she approached Ranma and Silence. Her voice was kept lower, barely above the level of a whisper. “That child… She can’t possibly be…”

Silence glanced warily at Talulah, then turned a questioning gaze on Ranma. Ranma simply shrugged, at first reaching up and around, stretching to try to reach Talulah’s opposite shoulder… then gave up and simply reached up, clapping a friendly hand on the closer shoulder. “Tal-chan, this is Olivia Silence, formerly of Rhine Labs,” she said, ignoring the incredulous look given to her not just by Talulah but the group behind her. “Livs, this is Talulah, former leader of the Reunion movement and the woman who absolutely creamed me a few months back. You ask me, she’s pretty trustworthy.”

“L-Livs?” Silence asked with a twitching eyebrow. “Re-Regardless… I suppose if you trust her…”

“I don’t deserve that trust,” Talulah said immediately, her face twisting as if in pain.

“Too bad, you get it anyway.”

“Then, yes, it’s exactly what you think,” Silence continued. “That girl, Ifrit… She was born a Savra, but we at Rhine Labs… we did horrible things to her. Among everything else, we… implanted the shards of a fallen Sarkaz into her. She’s mentioned she sometimes hears… a voice.”

“The voice of a fallen Diablo,” Talulah said, almost accusingly. “You’ve resurrected a dead race. Congratulations, Doctor Silence. Are you proud of what you’ve done?”

“No prouder than you are of crushing Striker,” Silence replied, causing Talulah to flinch back. “Which, I suspect, is why we are both here at Rhodes Island.”

Talulah stood silent for a moment before speaking again. “Fair point,” she finally conceded. “Her Arts. They’re fire based?”

“Yes.”

“Then I would like to offer to teach her,” Talulah said. “I have flame Arts as well, and being a Draco, I can withstand her flames better than others might be able to.”

And you’re used to having a voice in your head, Ranma thought but did not say. “That might not work if you’re stuck in the brig. I’ll talk to the little bunny though, see what we can arrange.”

“I don’t know,” Silence said. “Are you really trustworthy?”

“She is Sarkaz, even if artificially. And she is Infected,” Talulah said, almost regretfully. “I owe a debt to the true heir to the Sarkaz throne. One I can never repay. Helping that child is the least I can do.”

“You can trust her, Livs, really. I—eh?” Ranma looked down at the feeling of someone poking her. Ifrit’s orange eyes stared intently up at her.

“She says I’m fine so I wanna learn how to swim now!” Ifrit insisted hotly.

Ranma blinked, then started laughing. “Alright, alright, let’s go,” she said, walking off toward the water with Ifrit in tow. “But we’re gonna do this an hour at a time, don’t want you getting sunburned.”

“Whatever!”

Ifrit proved to be an enthusiastic student, if nothing else. With Ranma’s guidance, she quickly got the hang of floating buoyantly before moving on to basic leg kicks. Silence watched for a short while before finding a place to lay out a towel and lie down. Cantabile joined Ranma and Ifrit as Ranma was teaching the girl how to use her arms to swim, providing an impromptu second tutor as she demonstrated her own swimming form.

Occasionally, Ranma glanced toward the shore, seeing her friends in various states of lounging, clearly content to enjoy the day. She did find some amusement in seeing Yelena had procured a parasol that she was using to shade herself and, rather than lie back elegantly, she was flopped under the umbrella as if exhausted.

“I guess 36 degrees is a bit hot for her,” Ranma said with a chuckle. “Maybe she should come get in the water.”

“She might find the sun too much in that case,” Cantabile said as she swam circles around Ranma, who was still carefully guiding Ifrit’s own swimming. “How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Holding her up with one finger.”

“Maybe I’m just that good at swimming!” Ifrit interjected.

“Not yet, you’re not,” Ranma said. “Getting there though. It’s a martial arts trick—basically an extension of my ‘balance and force redirection’ I’m teaching you.”

Cantabile stopped, treading water with a nod. “I see. Could you do that without the water?”

“Probably.”

“You’re holding me up with one finger using a martial arts trick? That’s so cool!” Ifrit gushed. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

“You need more practice controlling your Arts first,” Ranma said, continuing to guide Ifrit along. “But maybe some martial arts can help with that. Behave for Tal-chan’s lessons and I’ll teach you some cool martial arts tricks.”

“I’ll behave! I promise!”

Ranma grinned slightly. “Alright, I’ve been keeping you up. Let’s head back to the beach for now and cool off for a bit so we don’t get sunburn, then we’ll do the last lessons before I let you swim on your own.”

“Can I get ice cream?!”

“I’ll think about it.”

Ifrit did, in fact, get her ice cream, though it was more in the nature of a fruit popsicle that she happily devoured. After her hasty consumption of the sugary treat, the girl found herself a spot on a towel under Yelena’s parasol and promptly fell fast asleep. Ranma chose to plant her own parasol a little further down the beach to let the girl get some rest. Cantabile accompanied her, content to cuddle in the shade.

From Ranma’s bag, the redhead’s PRTS link began to chime. “Incoming communication. Low priority,” the terminal said. Curious, and without dislodging Cantabile’s hold, Ranma pulled out the link and looked at the screen. Seeing it was the Doctor, she answered the call.

“Ranma, sorry to interrupt your beach visit,” the hooded figure said on the video call.

“No problem, Doc. What’s up?” Ranma asked.

“I just wanted to let you know that we’re investigating some reports about the volcano near the city. In case you hear anything about it, you can call it in to us, but I want to explicitly state: do not investigate the volcano on your own accord, and definitely do not go to the volcano unless Dr. Kal’tsit or I call you,” the Doctor said. “You’ve more than earned a break, so please take it. Amiya and Dr. Kal’tsit have also agreed with this, so don’t consider it just from me.”

“Well, if there’s any jerks you need kicked in the head, just give me a call, I guess,” Ranma said, her eyes drifting over to Cantabile. “But other than that, sure, I’ll stay on the beach and out of trouble.”

“I’m not trying to keep you out of trouble, Ranma,” the Doctor said. “Otherwise, I’d be using your codename. I just want to make sure you relax for a change. You might have recovered from the injuries fairly quickly, but your body still responds to stress normally and requires periods of rest and recovery.”

“You got it, Doc. Anything else?”

“That’s all. I’ll be in touch if we need you, but I don’t anticipate needing your level of response to this situation at this time. Signing off.”

Ranma glanced over to Cantabile again as the link darkened. “I guess that’s that, then,” she said. “I’m officially super off-duty.”

“Good,” Cantabile said, wrapping her arms around Ranma and pressing against the redhead. “That means, then, until Ifrit wakes up, I have you all to myself.”

Ranma slipped the PRTS link back into her bag just in time for Cantabile to move closer, kissing the redhead quite heatedly. She swiftly lost track of the next several seconds, coming back to something like normal mental function and being aware of being very flushed and breathing heavily as Cantabile’s lips brushed her neck and the Liberi’s small hands roamed over Ranma’s back. Keenly and powerfully aware of the sensations flooding her body, Ranma let out a sound like a tense whimper.

Cantabile leaned back slightly, her own face flushed as she breathed a bit more heavily. “We can… continue that later,” she said in a low, husky voice that sent a thrill down Ranma’s spine. “I don’t mind which body you’re in when we do. But public decency laws…”

“R-Right, y-yeah,” Ranma panted, eyes wide as she was suddenly, painfully cognizant of how close Cantabile was to her, with the two women almost pressed against each other. “La-Later.”

“I just wanted to express… some affection for you here and now,” Cantabile said. “And I want to enjoy the day with you for as long as we can.”

“I-I’m cool,” Ranma said. “With enjoying the day,” she clarified.

“Good,” Cantabile replied, wrapping her arms around Ranma again and resting her head on the redhead’s shoulder.

“My, my, Ranma-kun, getting a bit cozy there?” Nabiki’s voice suddenly chimed in. Ranma looked up to see the brown-haired girl approaching across the sands. As one would expect of both the beach and Nabiki, she was wearing a very flattering teal two-piece that showed off her trim figure. Accompanying her, however, was a young blonde girl who appeared to be a wolf-like Lupo. The blonde was wearing her own white swimsuit, with the bottoms seeming to be slightly skirted, and had what could almost be called a deathgrip on the hand of…

“Ryoga?” Ranma asked, gaping slightly at the sight of the Lost Boy in swimming trunks.

“Ranma?” Ryoga said. “What are you doing here in Dossoles?”

Ranma’s and Nabiki’s expressions went blank, while the blonde girl looked slightly amused, and Cantabile simply looked puzzled. “Ryoga-kun,” Nabiki finally said. “This is Siesta.”

“Oh…”

“It’s alright, Ryoga, the ‘where’ isn’t important, right?” the blonde said, smiling at him.

“No, I guess not… What are you doing in Siesta, Ranma?”

“According to my boss, taking a break,” Ranma replied, lying back down. “Canta-chan, that guy is Ryoga Hibiki. He’s got—” Ranma paused, thinking about how to word what she was about to say. “A pretty bad sense of direction. But he’s one of my rivals from my old life and the only one who could ever really keep up.”

Cantabile’s eyes went very wide at the implication. “You must be very strong, then,” she said to Ryoga.

“Well, I guess so,” Ryoga admitted humbly.

“Ryoga is super strong!” the blonde insisted. “The boss has been able to take heavier and longer delivery requests because he can pick up a whole cargo container and walk off with it, even full to the brim!”

“How does he keep the container from tipping or collapsing?” Cantabile asked.

“Balance practice,” Ranma and Ryoga replied simultaneously. “Who’s that with you, Ryoga?” Ranma asked.

“Oh, uh, this is Sora-san. Sora-san, this is Ranma Saotome, a, uh… a friend from before I joined PL.”

“Ryoga is taking me out for a nice night on the town, since the boss said we deserve a break after all the craziness that happened in Lungmen,” Sora said. “We hitched a ride with Rhodes Island but stayed in the guest area.”

“I’m Cantabile,” the Liberi woman introduced herself, staying snuggled against Ranma.

“I see Ranma-kun has moved on,” Nabiki said blandly, then sighed. “I guess I can’t blame him. Who knows where any of them might be…”

“I think more of ‘em might be around than we would normally think,” Ranma said. “If the three of us made it here… who knows who else might have. But… yeah, I’ve moved on. It’s not like Akane and I were a great match before anyway.”

“I’m not here to point fingers,” Nabiki said. “As it so happens, I kind of agree with you. You and Akane were a pretty terrible match.” With a flourish, she pulled a towel out of the satchel she had slung over her shoulder and laid it on the sand. “But I figured it was better her than me. You didn’t have much to offer besides martial arts back then.”

“You say that like something changed,” Ryoga said, crouching down as Sora pulled out a large towel.

“Well, besides the obvious that we’re all on another world now,” Nabiki pointed out, earning a shrug of acknowledgment from Ranma and Ryoga. “There’s also the fact that Ranma-kun has a rather well-paying job with Rhodes Island now. On top of that, it turns out I might have underestimated his intelligence by a fairly large margin.”

“Really? Ranma’s intelligence?” Ryoga said with a slight scoff, earning a sharp look from Cantabile and from Sora.

“Ranma-kun, what are the principle onset symptoms of, say, being impaled by a piece of raw originium here?” Nabiki asked, gesturing to her midriff.

“You mean of Oripathy?” Ranma asked. When Nabiki nodded, Ranma continued, “Well, initial symptoms wouldn’t show up for about five or six days and would look like the skin around the initial wound was drying out or cracking. Depending on the concentration of originium in the initial exposure, you might start to see crystalline lesions forming that might be mistaken for moles or blemishes at first.”

Ryoga stared at Ranma, his jaw hanging agape, but the redhead continued on.

“Within about two weeks you’d start to see more obvious signs of Oripathy Infection, with visible lesions or even lacerations forming in the skin as the crystals grow. Depending on how concentrated the initial piece was, you could be looking at anywhere from a three percent assimilation to seven percent by about the start of the third week, and you’d also see a spike of blood concentration levels to around point-one-five units per liter, minimum, until things settled down.”

Cantabile beamed at Ranma. “You’ve been doing quite a bit of studying,” she said.

“Ranma? Study?” Ryoga asked, as if being told that “up” were, in fact, “down.”

“Oripathy is a serious disease. I should know,” Nabiki said. “And Ranma is apparently a field expert in first aid treatment and anti-infection measures due to his academic knowledge of it. He acquired this knowledge because he very much doesn’t want to contract the disease himself. On top of that, it gives him greater insight into what his colleagues at Rhodes Island are capable of and, more importantly to him lately, what they endure as a result of their Infection.”

“Oh, so she’s not a doctor, she’s one of Rhodes Island’s field operators?” Sora asked, lying down on the towel she had laid out. “That’s really cool!” She glanced up at Ryoga and patted the open part of the blanket invitingly, and the lost boy joined her with a blush.

“I see I’m not the only one who ‘moved on,’” Ranma remarked dryly.

“I-It’s not like that! Exia-san and Sora-san are just very friendly, that’s all!”

Sora and Cantabile shared a look and a smile. Ranma and Nabiki shared a look and a roll of the eyes. “Yahari Ryoga-kun,” Nabiki said with a laugh. Ranma simply nodded with a chuckle.

As expected of Ryoga indeed, she thought. Her eyes drifted over to a distant mountain. Supposedly the volcano under that mountain was responsible for the obsidian for which the festival was named, and Rhodes Island was even now investigating unusual activity…

She shrugged and put it out of her mind. She was on leave, officially, and enjoying time with her girlfriend and several of her close friends. “You know, it’s nice getting to go somewhere and not be attacked,” she mused with a chuckle. “Nice but so weird.”

“I could attack you for old times’ sake,” Ryoga suggested.

“I dunno, Ryoga, I might be outta your league now. My latest rivals make blizzards and firestorms or they can shrug off and heal when I punch ‘em harder than I ever hit you,” Ranma said with a grin. “You might need to catch back up.”

“Just what the hell have you been up to since you got here?” Ryoga asked, aghast.

“Oh, you know, just getting into some scraps here and there as usual.”

“Championing the cause of the Infected,” Cantabile said. “Learning about Oripathy to better understand what we go through, saving so many of us from a horrible fate, essentially becoming a messianic figure to Infected to the point of almost being a legend. He calls them his rivals, but Miss Talulah and Yelena practically worship the ground he walks on when he isn’t looking.”

“Surrounded by beautiful women who love and adore you. That’s a familiar song and dance, isn’t it, Ranma-kun?” Nabiki teased.

“There was a lot of fighting back in Lungmen, Nabiki-san,” Ryoga said suddenly. “Rhodes Island was in the thick of it, trying to keep the casualty numbers down.”

Nabiki’s expression sobered as well. “So I’ve already heard. I can’t begin to imagine how bad it was.”

“There’s no need to imagine,” another voice cut in suddenly. Talulah stood there, one hand on her hip and the other holding her towel. “If I may join you…”

“Go ahead, Tal-chan,” Ranma said.

Talulah nodded, laying out her towel and sitting on it. Despite personally knowing what the Draco woman was capable of, Ranma couldn’t help but think how vulnerable her posture—curled up slightly with her arms around her legs—made her look. “What have you been told about who I am?” Talulah asked Ryoga, Sora, and Nabiki.

“You’re Talulah, the leader of Reunion,” Nabiki said, causing Ryoga and Sora to flinch.

“Former leader,” Talulah corrected. “I believe it’s being led by a former L.G.D. agent who goes by ‘Nine.’ I… wish her well.”

“No regrets at being ousted?”

Talulah shook her head, glancing in Ranma’s direction while answering Nabiki’s question. “None. I have no right to lead the Infected in a cause to improve their lives when I marched so many of them to their deaths.” She stretched her legs out, straightening her posture. “What I’m about to tell you is the absolute truth. I only ask that you don’t tell anyone else without my consent. Whether you believe me or not is entirely up to you.”

Nabiki raised an eyebrow, but nodded in agreement, as did Ryoga and Sora.

“Reunion started in Ursus,” Talulah began. “And I led them then. But we had a very different objective, one not unlike Rhodes Island: the protection and care of the Infected. We only fought when necessary to protect the Infected. But still…”

Ranma stayed silent. She had been unconscious but Amiya had told her about a vision the young Cautus had seen in Talulah’s mind. The “Deathless Black Snake” who had taken on Talulah’s form, and the burning village.

“A friend of mine… Alina…” Talulah took a deep breath as she spoke. “She was… grievously wounded by an Ursus Infected Patrol… she died in my arms. They killed her… and that… I could no longer see light in my life… only darkness. I fell into volatile rage and hatred… but the true tipping point… There was a village that had taken in Infected, dozens of them… and locked them into an empty grain silo to slowly starve. I found the village and the withered, haggard corpses left in the silo.”

There was no opportunity to ask what she did, as she immediately continued in a lower voice. “I burned them all. Every one of them. The entire village. I burned it to the ground. I showed no mercy to any of them.”

“Rage and depression,” Ryoga said sadly.

“It exposed me to the black seed implanted in my mind by my ‘father,’ Duke Kashchey of the Ursus Empire,” Talulah said. “Famed for his psychic Originium Arts… he used them to enter my mind and take my body from me. But everything he did as me… it was something that I wanted. I wanted revenge… to burn down everything that had hurt me… to burn even myself to ash for failing… failing to save…”

“Failing to save Alina,” Ranma said. “Yeah… been there.”

“Yes… your friend, Ace,” Talulah said as if realizing. “I saw… he fought to his dying breath to save you.”

Ranma gave a thin smile. “I bet he did, but that’s not who I meant,” she said. “I’ll tell you about it sometime… but not today. We’re supposed to be here to enjoy the beach!”

Despite all intents, one cannot spend an entire day on the beach without needing to seek some relief or sustenance elsewhere. Once Ifrit finally woke up and completed her final assisted swimming lesson, both her stomach and Ranma’s announced a desire for more than just ice cream to satiate them. After a quick stop to dress in street clothing, rather than simply some swimsuits, the whole party began walking through the city in search of something to eat.

Cool drinks were easily found near the beach and shade became more abundant as they went further into the city itself. The festivities drew them toward what the map dubbed “Cross Civic Square.” Along the way, thankfully, numerous food stalls were found offering a variety of free food and, to Gavial’s keen interest, free beer. While Ifrit also wanted to try the beer, she relented with a pout when Silence and Ranma both put their feet down on a firm “no.”

“What’s up, everyone?!” a sudden announcement began over the square’s P.A. “Thank you all for coming out here! This is D—D—D!”

The crowd in the square erupted in cheers, and Ranma was able to pick out the stage where someone stood behind a mess of electronic equipment. She could hardly tell anything identifiable about the person besides having a hood and mask not unlike the Doctor’s, though their mask was illustrated with a wicked, backlit grin rather than featureless, and the white T-shirt was unlike the Doctor’s more shrouded appearance. Regardless, they were certainly the center of attention.

“We’re all gathered here on this scorching summer’s day for just one reason!” the person, likely the “D.D.D.” mentioned, said into their microphone as they began walking the stage. “And that reason is…!”

“MUSIC!” the crowd shouted back.

“I can’t hear you!” D.D.D. shouted back. “Louder, let the whole city know what it is you want!”

“MUSIC!” the crowd roared, and even Ifrit joined in, tugging at Silence’s hold on her shoulders to join into the crowd. Ranma reached over to ruffle the blonde girl’s head, distracting her from her escape attempts.

“In that case, put your hands up!” D.D.D. said, touching some things at their electronic equipment and causing a pulsing beat to come from the speakers. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t think this is my kind of music!” Cantabile yelled to be heard over the crowd and beat. “But it’s not bad!”

“I think I know what you mean!” Ranma yelled back. She motioned to the others indicating a desire to move elsewhere and was met by mostly nods. Only Ifrit seemed to want to stay and enjoy the electronic beats, but she agreed to follow the others as they moved to a far quieter location.

“EDM really isn’t my thing either,” Sora admitted with a laugh once the distant music had quieted to something of a dull roar. “But D.D.D. is famous for her rap and electronica.”

“I think I’d prefer something a little more traditional and a little less damaging to my ears,” Ryoga muttered, wiggling a pinky in his ear.

“There’s something about how it rolls over you that I liked, but maybe if it wasn’t blasting so loudly,” Ranma said.

“I liked it drowning everything out,” Talulah murmured quietly. “To close out everything but the sound of the music and the feeling of my heart beating with it. It was nice. Though I do agree with not liking it so loud that it damages my ears.”

“I suppose we’re all in agreement on that point,” Silence chimed in with a slight grimace. “Personally, I prefer jazz.”

“There’s a nice jazz club downtown!” Sora suggested. “Maybe we can go there!”

Ranma was about to agree out of curiosity for jazz when something tickled her senses. She looked around, eyes narrowing before finally settling on a rather official-looking building. Two figures were fleeing from the front door and being pursued by men in suits. One of the figures, with pink hair wrapped in buns at the side of her head, was being pulled along by the other, wearing a black shrouded hood and mask—

Ranma moved without thinking. In less than a second, she had broken away from the crowd of her friends. After only two seconds, she had made eye contact with the Doctor, barely able to see the recognition past the panic in his eyes through the hood. A brief part of her was aware of Ryoga just behind her. Three seconds. Four seconds. The first suited individual was shoved back and off balance. Ryoga was already making contact with the second, his shoulder forcing them back into the third and fourth. The fifth took a swing at Ranma.

Ranma grabbed their wrist with all the time in the world, flipping them over her shoulder. All targets down. “Doc, the hell’s going on?!” she yelled.

“Ran—” the Doctor began, but paused at the look in Ranma’s eyes. “Striker. Do you remember the call about the volcano?”

“Yeah, seems like you could use some head kicking for some jerks,” Ranma replied.

“This shouldn’t have happened!” the pink-haired woman protested. “Cronin, I don’t know if he’s just buying into the propaganda or has something to gain from it, but…!”

“We should get away from this building and blend into the crowd,” Cantabile suggested, suddenly standing at Ranma’s side.

“Good idea,” the Doctor said, putting an arm around the pink-haired woman to start to guide her down the street. “Let’s head to the beach, Ceylon.”

“Stop right there!” a voice yelled from inside as more suited individuals began pouring out of the building.

Ranma was about to go for round two when a line of fire erupted on the ground, causing the suited men to stumble back with cries of alarm as they were cut off from their quarries. Ryoga also stumbled back with his own yelp, turning with Ranma toward the others. Talulah stood there, an impassive look on her face as she held a hand out.

“Talulah, your Arts—!” Ranma began.

“This is not Originium Arts, Striker,” Talulah said, interrupting her. “This is the power of a Draco to control fire—quite independent from the power of my Arts. Yelena, do you have your Arts unit? I’m sure Rhodes Island has issued you one by now.”

“I brought it, just in case,” FrostNova said, reaching into a small handbag she had been carrying and pulling out a white leather choker that she swiftly slipped around her neck. At her throat, three refined crystals of Originium gleamed.

“Obstructions only,” Ranma ordered. “Leave any fighting to Bastion and me. Fall back toward the beach!”

Yelena nodded and the group began moving away from the government building. As Talulah let the flames die out, FrostNova sang a sharp verse and walls of ice rose up to block the street behind them. The effective disruption of pursuit made the party’s flight much quicker—though they had to listen to Ifrit’s protest that she could “totally have taken those guys.”

“I’m sure you could’ve, Ifrit,” Ranma said, her expression all business. “But we’re supposed to be here for a vacation. Can’t do that if we burn a bunch of people.”

Ifrit squinted at Ranma, then blinked, eyes wide. “You really are Striker, you have the same expression he did while fighting!”

“Told ya,” Ranma quipped back with a slight smirk before resuming her serious expression. Her eyes widened and she moved in front of the Doctor, catching a crossbow bolt out of the air. “Alright, show yourself before I throw this back at you!”

“Wait, could it be—Schwarz?” Ceylon called out. “Schwarz, why did you attack him?”

“Because,” a woman’s voice said, as a Feline woman stepped out of concealment between two empty stalls. While she had a nearly see-through white shirt thrown over her shoulders, the bulk of her outfit was black leather—consisting of an athletic top that showed off her trim midriff as well as clingy shorts. “Master Doykos is out of town, Milady Ceylon. Per his orders, and Cronin’s, I am here to protect you. You ought to listen to him.”

“Oh, like hell,” Ranma replied. “Look, lady, you and your buddies back there attacking the Doctor are getting in the way of my vacation. You back off now and I’ll just call this an accident. Keep pushing your luck and I’ll realize you’re stupid.”

Schwarz spared a glance at Ranma before looking back at Ceylon. “I do not wish to resort to violence, Miss Ceylon. Convince your friends to stand down and that can be that.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Nabiki suddenly spoke up, stepping out of the party and into view. “Miss Schwarz, I’m surprised. I didn’t take you for being suicidal.”

Schwarz took a step in retreat, eyes wide. “Miss Tendo. I’m surprised to see you in the company of kidnappers.”

“‘Kidnappers?’ Is that what they told you?” Nabiki said. “You’re looking at employees and an executive of Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals who specialize in Oripathy treatments, Miss Schwarz. We’re not in the business of kidnapping.”

“Ceylon approached me after being rescued from a group of Originium slugs at the base of the volcano by a pair of Rhodes Island operators,” the Doctor said. “She presented the idea to me that the volcano was likely to erupt. My team includes a Catastrophe Messenger and an expert volcanologist, both of whom agree with her assessment. Cronin attacked us, unprovoked, claiming that we had lied to Ceylon and put the idea in her head.”

“As you can see, you’ve been deceived, Miss Schwarz,” Nabiki interjected smoothly. “Now, have you ever known me to lie?” Despite the uneasy look on her face, Schwarz shook her head in the negative. “Then you know you should listen to me and can trust me. Lower your weapon, or this young man here…” Nabiki tilted her head meaningfully at Ranma, causing Ceylon and Schwarz to blink in confusion. “Will quite soundly thrash you, and that’s not even considering his friends.”

“Young… man?” Ceylon asked.

“It’s a long story,” Ranma said.

“Are you trying to transition?”

“I’ll explain later.”

“If you need any help, we can—”

“Later!”

Schwarz slightly lowered her crossbow. “You vouch for their trustworthiness, Miss Tendo?” She glanced at Ceylon. “Milady Ceylon?”

“I was already independently investigating the volcano, Schwarz,” Ceylon said, putting a hand over her heart almost imploringly. “I simply took my findings to Rhodes Island after they saved me. They simply took the data and provided a clear conclusion.”

“I trust Ranma-kun,” Nabiki said, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “I also know that if you threaten his boss again, you’ll likely spend the next few weeks in the hospital.”

“Oh, it won’t come down to a hospital stay,” Ranma said, crossing her arms over her chest. “But, seriously, you should put that crossbow down.”

“What do you—” Schwarz began, before freezing. A silver glint at her neck was the likely cause, as Cantabile stood behind her with a knife at the ready.

“Put it down,” the Liberi woman said in a low, menacing tone. “You’ve gone astray. Don’t go any further down the wrong path.”

“Whoa, when did she get behind her so fast?” Gavial hissed, wide-eyed.

“She’s been moving since that Schwarz lady fired her one and only shot,” Ryoga replied. “I blinked and nearly lost track of her, honestly,” he admittedly somewhat sheepishly.

“What can I say?” Ranma said in a boasting tone. “She insisted that she wanted to learn everything so that she would never be left behind again. She’s been a very eager student. So, what’s it gonna be?”

Slowly, Schwarz lowered the crossbow, holding it out to the side and holding her other hand out with fingers spread open to show it was empty. Cantabile took the weapon with a nod, lowering her knife. “You’ve met with some very capable company, Milady Ceylon,” Schwarz said warily, still holding her hands up. “Are you absolutely certain you’re not being deceived?”

“I am,” Ceylon said firmly. “The question you need to ask yourself, Schwarz, is how loyal you want to be to a man who has chosen to take advantage of my father’s absence to seize power.”

“Were it only as simple as a matter of ‘want,’” Schwarz said in a low voice, causing Ranma’s eyebrow to go up and for the redhead to glance over at Nabiki. “But, I surrender. I will fight no longer.”

“I am glad to hear that,” a deep voice said, the accent deeply Ursusian. Ranma turned to the source, seeing a very tall Liberi man in a black and yellow overcoat approaching “I had thought to intervene on the Doctor’s behalf if things continued to escalate, but it seems you found capable enough allies already.”

Nabiki gave a low whistle. “Big fellow,” she said. “And you are…?”

“You may call me Hellagur. Like the Doctor, I am from Rhodes Island. Doctor, do you have a minute? I need to speak with you in private.”

“You might not get that minute, Hellagur,” Ranma said, tilting her head to the side.

“Hm? … Ah, I see,” Hellagur said, listening for a moment as well. “As perceptive as I’ve heard you to be, Striker. They’re coming in force, aren’t they?”

“They’re not even bothering to hide,” Ranma muttered, unimpressed. “They must think they’re bringing enough numbers to make up for lack of quality, but frankly, you could clear ‘em out by yourself. Doc, how do you want to do this?”

“I’m not interested in prolonged fighting,” the Doctor replied. “Do you think perhaps you could simply frighten them off with a terrifying show of force? Preferably something that won’t annoy Dr. Kal’tsit too much.”

“Man, you don’t ask for much, do ya?” Ranma replied with a chuckle. “Alright. Canta-chan, you and Hellagur escort the Doc and Ceylon to safety. Nabiki, Ifrit, you two go with ‘em. Ifrit, countin’ on you to keep Nabiki safe!”

“Understood. Doctor, please direct us.”

Ifrit looked ready to protest before Ranma’s “orders” sunk in with her. The blonde’s eyes went wide and she nodded, moving next to Nabiki. “Hey, you, stick with me and you’ll be ok!” Nabiki shot Ranma a pleading look but only got a grin and wave in reply

“Bastion, you should get Sora to safety,” Ranma said, looking at Ryoga. “They might be wimps, but you don’t want your new girlfriend getting hurt, do ya?” she added with a smirk, causing Ryoga to splutter a protest—but, notably, the lost boy still picked Sora up and began to leave following her directions, which just happened to be following the Doctor’s party.

“Livs, you got your Arts unit with you?” Ranma asked.

Silence motioned up to the sky, and Ranma grinned on seeing Silence’s drone airborne above them. “I came prepared in case of sunburn,” she said with a slight smirk.

“And where do you want us, Striker?” Gavial asked, cracking her knuckles.

“Gavial on the left, Nearl in the middle, Ch’en on the right. Tal-chan, think you can get a lot of fire up using just your Draco powers so you don’t have to use your Arts?”

“I believe I can manage what I think you have in mind,” Talulah replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Nice. FrostBunny, you slow down anyone coming up on the front. Livs, you and your drone are on support. Tal-chan, hit me!”

It was almost textbook. The suited mercenaries charged headlong into the street where Rhodes Island had stopped, only to break like a wave on the shore. Ice formed underfoot as FrostNova sang, sending people sliding uncontrollably or off their feet entirely, and those who stayed upright met the immovable wall made up of Gavial, Nearl, and Ch’en. Fists flew in a reasonable facsimile of Anything-Goes Martial Arts, and most of the attackers did not get back up for a second try after even a single blow.

Talulah, meanwhile, burned. Flames licked around her form, chasing after Ranma who ran in a spiral around the Draco. “When I get to the center, grab me and hold on!” Ranma yelled to Talulah. “FrostBunny, make sure to anchor everyone over there when you hear the signal!”

“What’s the signal?” FrostNova replied. “And my codename is FrostNova, you ass!”

“The signal is ‘Hiryuu Shoten Ha!’” Talulah replied. “I suppose you must have not used it on her.”

“I’m usually the cold one when I do it!” Ranma replied with a laugh, continuing to tighten the spiral as the second wave of attackers charged in. “Now! Hiryuu Shoten Ha!” she yelled as she stepped within reach of Talulah, punching upward. Even as the winds began to howl, ice erupted from FrostNova’s position, freezing Nearl, Gavial, Ch’en, Silence, and FrostNova herself up to their knees. As directed, Talulah grabbed Ranma, the redhead returning the squeezing grip by grabbing onto Talulah almost as if embracing her.

And then Ranma planted her feet.

Shouts of surprise could be heard from the attackers as the winds, forming a powerful but contained cyclone, whipped at them, throwing them around like loose toys. The five who had been buying time were unmoved, anchored by FrostNova’s ice, while Ranma used her own ki as an anchor, holding tightly onto Talulah and keeping her footing against the power of her own technique.

As the yells of surprise died down to groans of pain, so too did the howling winds of the Flying Dragon Ascending to Heaven Strike soon die out. Ranma pulled away from Talulah, looking around then up at the taller woman with a triumphant expression. “Ha! It worked!”

“What worked?” Talulah asked. “The plan seemed certain enough.”

“Oh, sure, but I meant my anchoring technique!”

Talulah’s grip tightened. “You weren’t certain about that?” she asked. “What if it hadn’t?”

“I’d have thought of something else!” Ranma said confidently.

Talulah’s grip went slack and she gaped down at Ranma as the redhead pulled away from her. To Ranma’s amazement, the Draco woman actually turned slightly red and looked away as if embarrassed by something, shaking her head. “Re-Regardless, we should catch up to the Doctor now, I think,” she said.

“H-hey, c-can we g-get th-thawed out?” Gavial said, her teeth chattering. “S-Sometime t-today p-please!”

Luxury hotel rooms were, Ranma decided, something else. While the fifteen people currently packed in would certainly not be able to live in the space, there was enough room for everyone to find somewhere comfortable to sit or stand. Ranma wondered if Rhodes Island was paying the bill or if the Doctor was paying for it out of his own personal funds. There was a full bathroom complete with a tub for soaking in and even a small kitchen!

“Hey, Doc, I’m gonna get some hot water,” Ranma said.

“Fair enough,” the Doctor said, looking up from his terminal where he was, in his words, “preparing some things.” “At least this will get Ceylon and Schwarz off your back, right?”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Nabiki.”

“You’ve always insisted that you’re one hundred percent a guy, no matter what, Ranma-kun,” Nabiki replied innocently. “Why, your last swimsuit even had ‘BOY’ stitched on it.”

Ranma simply rolled her eyes, refusing to further engage with Nabiki, at least for now. Instead, she walked over to the kitchen area, retrieving a glass and filling it with hot water from the sink. As an afterthought, she also grabbed a nearby towel. “Alright, just so you know, magic is real, and no, it has nothing to do with Originium Arts,” she said, walking back to the divider between the kitchen and living area. “This is a curse I picked up about… man, it’s been nearly two years now,” she muttered in realization. “Anyway, cold water triggers the curse and turns me into this. Hot water triggers it and turns me back.”

As the hot water poured onto her head, triggering the change back into her male body and causing the clothes to sit much more snugly on his larger frame, Ceylon gave an eep and flinched back, slightly red-faced. Schwarz, sitting next to the mayor’s daughter, gaped openly at the sight. Hellagur, the only one possibly not in the know, simply raised an eyebrow and muttered something in the Ursus language.

Ranma set the glass on a nearby counter and wiped at his wet hair with the towel he had grabbed. “PRTS, can you clock me in?” he said.

“Negative, Operator Striker. Your status is still officially on leave unless rescinded by a member of Rhodes Island leadership,” PRTS replied.

“Doc?”

“It’s alright, PRTS. Please issue a one-time override to put Operator Striker back on duty, just for today,” the Doctor said.

“Confirmed. Operator Striker is now on duty. I have also sent a message to Miss Amiya and Doctor Kal’tsit advising them.”

The Doctor winced and Ranma wasn’t sure if it was out of fear of Amiya’s reaction or Kal’tsit’s. Either way, Ranma smirked slightly at it. “Alright, so, those guys were just average mooks. Good for handling street thugs, not so great against anyone with actual training,” he said. “She’s a cut above that, though, even if she’s not at my level yet.”

“‘Actual training’ meaning day two of a kids’ karate class,” Ryoga muttered disdainfully. “I had to hold back so I didn’t hurt anyone too badly.”

“They deserved it anyway,” Ranma replied.

Hellagur cleared his throat, looking meaningfully at Schwarz. “This Feline is certainly no cut-rate bodyguard,” he said. “Her henchmen were mediocre at best, but I believe I have an idea as to her true identity.”

“W-Wait, please, don’t!” Schwarz said in a panic, eyes wide but not moving from her seat.

“Oh ho, some dark, mysterious past, how interesting!” Gavial said, grinning. “Plenty of those going around Rhodes Island, huh, Nearl?”

“Do you think you’re cute?” Nearl asked tiredly.

“I’m adorable, thanks,” Gavial replied with a grin. “So, you think you know who she is, General?”

“Columbian, Feline, female, silver hair, amber eyes, and a black crossbow,” Hellagur listed off the details, eyeing the crossbow that Cantabile was standing guard over—well out of Schwarz’s reach. “If she’s who I think she is, she’s a rather infamous mercenary and assassin. Of course, being a famous hitman has its own drawbacks, but it’s largely because the truth of what she’s done is too astonishing to be kept under wraps.”

“Schwarz?” Ceylon asked, turning to her bodyguard.

“Please…!”

“Suffice to say, she is singularly responsible for the eradication of an entire Columbia clan, as well as a patrol group who were, themselves, rather notorious for indiscriminate slaughter at Columbia’s borders,” Hellagur continued. “The only survivor of that last group, all of whom were eliminated one by one after fleeing into the mountains, is who I have heard tales of this assassin from. She has, supposedly, been missing for some time, but I believe her to be this woman sitting among us.”

Ranma gave a low whistle. “Things just got a lot more complicated than just an erupting volcano, Doc,” he said.

“The mayor may not be blind to this, as well,” Hellagur added. “In fact, I believe him to be the one who hired this mercenary in the first place.”

Schwarz’s head drooped down, hands resting on her thighs, as Ceylon gasped. “You can’t mean to think… my father would never… How are you sure they can be the same person? When did this mercenary supposedly disappear? When did she begin her career?”

Hellagur gave a very slight shrug. “She had already made a name for herself even before I was discharged,” he said. “But as for her disappearing, I believe that would be about one year ago, after annihilating that clan I mentioned.”

Ceylon flinched back at that, looking in surprise at Schwarz, who continued staring down at her feet. “She’s taken care of me most of my life… until about six years ago, when she said my father needed her for something important. Since then, I’ve only seen her when she comes around at Christmas…”

Ranma, Nabiki, and Ryoga shared a look. They have Christmas on this world? Ranma thought, certain it was shared by the other two.

“B-But I’m sure she was just in a bad mood!” Ceylon continued. “And just following orders besides! There’s no way she’s some cold-blooded killer! And are you somehow implying my father is behind Cronin’s actions? I—I can’t believe that!”

“I won’t jump to conclusions about your father, at least,” Hellagur said in a softer tone. “But I must remind you that even those who watch out for you cannot solely look out for your interests. The relationship of trust between you is none of my concern, but I cannot mistake the scars she bears—inflicted by Ursusian weapons. The squad that did that to her is now buried deep beneath the snow.”

Ceylon bowed her head, trembling.

Hellagur turned to the Doctor. “Doctor, the situation should be clear. If the city council has a hand in circulating false information about the volcano…”

“You believe we should simply stay out of it,” the Doctor concluded. Hellagur simply nodded in reply.

“I… I need some air,” Ceylon said, standing up and stumbling to the door. As she passed him, Ranma shared a look with Cantabile, who nodded to him. So, before the door shut behind Ceylon, Ranma had already slipped through it with her.

He kept a respectful distance behind her as she left the hotel and walked to the beach, but just before reaching the sand, she stopped, looking over her shoulder. “It’s Striker, isn’t it? Since you’re on the clock now?” she asked.

“Yeah, but if you’d rather talk to Ranma, Striker can go on break,” Ranma said with a half smile.

“Is there a difference?”

“Not much of one,” Ranma admitted. “I guess you could say it’s just a different face to wear. One’s a little more serious, one’s a little less.”

“Like your body. You simply change when it’s convenient… or when circumstances force your hand.”

“Exactly.”

Ceylon made a beckoning motion at Ranma, turning back to the crowded beach as he approached. “It wasn’t always so busy. In fact, I used to love coming to this beach by myself to make sand castles,” she said. “It’s gotten better… The city, I mean, has gotten better, thanks to my father’s efforts. I hardly even know him. We don’t really talk a lot. It’s left me to wonder what’s more important to him: the city and the wealth it brings him, or his own daughter?”

“I’ve got a pretty strained relationship with my old man, too, but in a different way,” Ranma said.

Ceylon gave him a sad smile. “My mother died giving birth to me,” she continued. “I sometimes wonder if perhaps that’s why he doesn’t care for me. He certainly doesn’t seem to care if I like him or not. As long as I can remember, he’s always been distant, away on business trips here or there. Rather than father and daughter, we’re more like two complete strangers who happen to share a roof.”

She began walking forward, sand crunching under her feet, and Ranma followed her. “Having Schwarz by my side was like a fact of life.”

“Seems like you care a lot about her,” Ranma said. “Maybe the things she did for your father shouldn’t be so important when you think about it like that.”

She paused, giving him a queer look. “Is it really that easy? To forget about it?” she asked him.

“I dunno about forgetting, but if it’s not important to you, why worry about it?” he said with a shrug. “The Cautus and Draco back there? Both of ‘em tried to kill me, but that’s water under the bridge. I care more about ‘now’ than ‘then.’”

“It certainly seemed like they have other things they’d rather do with you now,” Ceylon mused with a laugh. “She’s Infected, you know… She tells me to keep my distance because she doesn’t want to hurt me.”

Ranma scoffed. “Oripathy infection doesn’t spread that way,” he said.

“I know that now,” Ceylon said, smiling. “When she told me, I made my decision to become an Oripathy researcher. Even went to schooling in Victoria for it. All to one day cure her. But Originium research is… difficult. I couldn’t even grasp the basics at first and felt like giving up. On top of that, Victoria is so far away and nothing like Siesta. But I persevered in both, and now here I am. But for all that, now, I feel more like a Victorian than a Siestan. Is… is it possible that everything I have is just an illusion?”

“If you ask me, life’s an illusion,” Ranma said, putting his hands in his pockets and stepping up next to Ceylon. “We make as much of it as we can ‘real,’ but that reality gets broken as soon as something or someone else comes along. Like a mercenary who’s struggling with her own past.”

“Regardless of me, she’d still be struggling just with the weight of her own sins,” Ceylon said in a low voice, looking down at the sand. “I just wish she could tell me everything else that burdens her. Ranma… or Striker, whichever of you can answer this… do you think I should give up?”

“No,” Ranma said, realizing he was using the lower, almost clipped tones of Striker’s voice. “Maybe there’s no cure to Oripathy. Maybe we can’t save the Infected. Maybe all of this is for nothing. So what? At least if we can find that out, we can say we tried, that we did everything we could instead of just sitting back and letting horrible things happen. Can we just give up? Sure, we can. But we shouldn’t, and even if someone comes along and says we should because they tried everything, I don’t care. I don’t want to give up, so I won’t. Life’s too short to regret the choices you’ve made. If you screw up, fix it. If you can’t, do better next time.”

Ceylon blinked rapidly, her expression slightly awed as she faced Ranma, before her expression firmed into unwavering determination. “You’re right. I see now why those women all follow you without hesitation,” she said. “I guess I still have a lot to learn. Well, first, I need to stop being so sentimental and get proof even they can’t deny. If they’re really putting the citizens of Siesta in danger on purpose, we need to stop them! I’ll stand with my decisions and fight to save this city, even if no one else will!”

“Well said,” Hellagur’s voice came from behind Ranma, who turned around. With the former Ursusian general stood the Doctor as well as the rest of the Rhodes Island contingent. Even Ryoga and Sora stood there, with Ryoga’s expression matching the grim determination.

“Mister Hellagur!”

“It seems you’ve found your answer.”

Ceylon nodded firmly. “Yes. Mister Hellagur, Doctor, please hear me out. No matter what, I don’t want the people here in Siesta to get hurt. That’s my number one priority. The largest broadcast tower here is the one by the Garrison Amusement Park. It controls the city’s entire broadcast system.”

Hellagur put a hand on his chin in contemplation. “The broadcasting tower…”

“Could reach the whole city if we went there. Let ‘em know about the volcano about to erupt,” Ranma said.

“But it’s controlled by Cronin’s henchmen,” Ceylon warned. “He often appears there to speak to the city. But when the concert happens tonight, everyone will be by the stage so Cronin’s lackeys will have their hands full with the crowd! We can easily take the broadcasting tower and spread the news about the volcano to the whole city! Rhodes Island… Doctor, Mister Hellagur, Striker, will you please lend me your aid?”

“Silent though we may be when conflict is avoidable,” the Doctor began quietly.

“We will fight tooth and claw if necessary,” Ranma finished, grinning at the Doctor. “We are Rhodes Island.”

“Of course we will help you, Ceylon. Miss Schwarz, I believe you have something you would like to say?”

At the Doctor’s prompting, Schwarz stepped out from amidst the group, her head still hanging. “Milady Ceylon—”

“That is enough of that already!” Ceylon said firmly. “No more of this ‘milady’ nonsense. Schwarz, we’re friends! Just call me Ceylon! Talk to me like a friend, like we used to!”

“You may not wish to be my friend anymore when you learn—”

“Learn what? That you killed someone? That you killed a lot of people?” Ceylon said. “I’m not some sheltered waif, Schwarz. My studies in Victoria weren’t just for show! I know how the world works! I know that things like that can happen! But that doesn’t change that you’re still my oldest, closest friend…”

“But you weren’t supposed to know! I didn’t want you to know!” Schwarz protested.

“But I do know, even if it’s just a little.” Ceylon glanced over at Ranma for a moment, then faced Schwarz again. “It’s too late for regrets. Whatever mistakes you’ve made, we can correct. Whatever we can’t correct, we can amend our ways so that they don’t happen again.” She stepped closer to Schwarz, reaching out to take the mercenary’s hand. “You can protect me if you want, Schwarz… but you can’t stop me from being who I am and living my life. You have a dark past, and maybe I’ll be scared of it and cry, but if you ever said, ‘Ceylon, I need your help,’ I would drop everything and come to help you. Do you understand?”

Schwarz bowed her head again, tears forming in her eyes. “Milady… I’m so sorry,” she said in a trembling voice. “I’m so sorry for the things I’ve done and said that have driven this wedge of misunderstanding between us. It should never have happened.”

Ceylon reached up, gently touching Schwarz’s face. “It’s alright, Schwarz. It’s in the past. The past isn’t as important as the now. Will you help me fulfill the duty we all have to protect Siesta and its people?”

Schwarz took Ceylon’s hand again, nodding. “You are my friend, and you always have been. I would do anything you ask.”

“That’s not how this works,” Ceylon said with a shake of her head. “You can’t just keep giving and giving. Once in a while, you’ll have to let me give as well, while you take. Alright? And enough with the ‘milady.’ Just call me Ceylon! We’re friends, after all. There’s no need for such distant, overbearing formality.”

“Ceylon… As you… I mean… alright.”

“Great. With that sorted out, we need to address the whole exploding volcano thing,” Ranma said. “Doc, whatcha got?”

The Doctor’s entire demeanor exuded a wicked grin even through the hood. “I think I have an idea…”

“For the record,” a now-female Ranma said, her hands held up as she walked into the entrance area of the communications tower. “I thought it was a really stupid plan.”

“Sure you did, Ranma-kun,” Nabiki replied, her hands also held up as she walked with the redhead. “That’s why you were the first one to endorse it.”

“Both of you be quiet,” Schwarz ordered, her crossbow pointed at their back. “Milady, this way,” she said sharply over her shoulder, a despondent Ceylon walking in with her just behind Ranma and Nabiki. “You, where is Cronin?” she called to one of the men in the suit in the reception area.

“He doesn’t exactly give us his itinerary,” the mercenary replied. “So you got the girl back and caught two of the troublemakers? Nice job, Schwarz. I’ll call it in.”

“Quickly, their co-conspirators got away and might still try to come here to complete their broadcast,” Schwarz said, motioning Ranma and Nabiki forward and following them with Ceylon. “Or they may try to hijack the stage instead. We need to prepare.”

“I bet we can find out from these two little bitches where their friends are,” another mercenary said, walking up and leering openly at the pair. By the way his eyes roamed, he definitely seemed to appreciate the tight short-shorts and open tank tops both girls were wearing, and the view he got as he stood nearly thirty centimeters taller than both. “And we can make them pay for all our guys their friends messed up earlier!”

“Cronin’s at the town hall,” the first mercenary said. “Says he’s dealing with some last minute paperwork but he’ll come here shortly.”

“Then let’s get some an—huh?” the second mercenary began, only to stop as Ranma began… laughing. Not simply chuckling but a mad, maniacal, triumphant cackle.

Nabiki sighed almost in disappointment.

“After all this time, all the stupid pictures, all the bets, finally, I beat you in a wager!” Ranma said, pointing at the other girl. “Nabiki Tendo, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Nabiki admitted morosely. “I was so sure he’d be here to gloat at Ceylon being captured.”

“Wait, what?” a third mercenary asked, looking around.

“Schwarz, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on,” Schwarz repeated back. “Isn’t it obvious? The jig is up. My friend Ceylon’s father is the mayor, and from the beginning, I’ve followed his orders: investigate the corruption perpetrated by Cronin, including his illegal harvesting of obsidian and his manipulation of V3 Industries. I had hoped to take him into custody myself, but I suppose that will be done by Rhodes Island.”

The other mercenaries tensed up. “G-Get them! Quickly! Now!” one yelled, and the mass of suit-wearing troops charged at the quartet.

“Shine on, my little diamonds!” Nabiki called out as she raised a wand with an Originium crystal on the end. Her seed diamonds flashed into view, ricocheting among the bodyguards and knocking them around with tremendous force. Those who avoided the gleaming projectiles from that direction instead found a redhead moving faster than they could track turning into a chaotic whirlwind of fists and feet.

As for Schwarz, Ranma decided she wasn’t unimpressive with getting Ceylon into cover, shooting crossbow bolts out of the air, destroying enemy crossbows with well-placed shots of her own, and even showcasing her agility by running up along the wall to reach a particularly persistent target. Smashing his face with the butt of her weapon was an artistic touch that Ranma appreciated. Almost too soon for the redhead’s taste, the fight was over, with the few “bodyguards” who were still conscious groaning in pain on the ground.

“That—that was amazing!” Ceylon gushed. “The way you two moved, it was like an action film from Wrankwood! Just whoosh! Whack! Bam! Pow! And Miss Tendo, your Arts with the diamonds, that was beautiful! Elegant and powerful like the boss of a crime syndicate!”

“Heh, I guess you got pretty awesome since we landed here, huh, Nabiki?” Ranma said, crossing her arms behind her head.

“It’s nice having an actual Arts unit to do that with, I have to admit,” Nabiki replied. “I never really appreciated being on the front line like this before. It’s a little bit thrilling, isn’t it?”

“Striker, you should check in with the city hall team,” Schwarz suggested.

“Yep,” Ranma replied, pulling out her PRTS terminal. “Doc, this is Striker. How’s it going over there?”

Earlier…

“If we just rush into the broadcast tower, we’ll just run into Cronin’s ambush,” Ceylon said. “Even if we seize the tower by force, without the support of the government, all my words would do is cause panic and confusion. We also need to find some kind of proof as to what Cronin is doing.”

“Then we split into two teams,” the Doctor said. “We’ll need the tower under our control, especially once we’ve removed Cronin’s legitimacy. I hesitate to put you into any kind of danger…”

“Don’t worry about me, Doctor. I’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

“If you’re sending her to the tower, I’ll go with her,” Schwarz said. “My presence will help set the forces there at ease at first, and then I can protect her.”

“Striker should go there as well,” the Doctor said. “You might want to change again, Striker. They’ll more easily underestimate your female form.”

“If you want a pretty face they’ll underestimate, I’ll go along as well,” Nabiki said. “Especially since I’ve signed on with Rhodes Island—even if the paperwork hasn’t been filed yet.” She smirked at Ranma’s surprised look. “Can’t let you have all the fun anymore, Ranma-kun. My Arts should be of some help, too.”

“Of course, maybe Cronin really is innocent,” Ceylon also suggested, though her expression showed no support for the idea.

“We can simply force him to announce the news of the volcano in that case,” Hellagur said.

“Right. If necessary, we may have to use force for that.”

“That borders on the reckless, Miss Ceylon,” Hellagur advised.

“Rhodes Island has already proven my conclusion with your lab tests. Countless lives are at stake. There’s no time to hesitate.” Ceylon smiled at Ranma, who flashed her a thumbs up sign. “If I make the wrong decision here, then I’ll simply have to do whatever it takes to make amends.”

“I merely wanted you to be aware of the consequences,” Hellagur said. “It isn’t my decision to make, after all.”

“Allowing so many lives to be lost is a violation of our credo,” the Doctor said. “Ceylon, you have our full support.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to help, too,” Ryoga said.

“We’ll be glad to have you with us, Bastion.”

Schwarz, Ceylon, Ranma, and Nabiki swiftly departed for the broadcast tower. Given the situation, it was also agreed that a team would need to return to Rhodes Island’s landship to prepare more Rhodes Island operators for deployment if necessary. Silence agreed to take Ifrit back as an escort for Sora, ostensibly to keep both out of the fray, while Nearl and Gavial would “escort” Talulah back to her cell and then make the necessary arrangements with Kal’tsit.

Ryoga accompanied the Doctor and Cantabile to city hall. As before, they approached the entrance boldly. At his prompting, Ryoga tapped on the door. “Delivery from PL!” he called.

There were confused noises from inside before a man’s voice replied, “You have the wrong address!”

“Huh? But I thought—can you guys give me directions to city hall? That’s where this shipment is supposed to go!” Ryoga called back.

“Get lost! Keep bothering us and we’ll teach you a lesson!” the man replied through the door.

“Friendly sort, aren’t they?” Cantabile remarked in a dry tone.

“I’m feeling pretty friendly, too,” Ryoga growled. “Plan B it is.” The lost boy lifted his leg and kicked at the door.

As the door exploded out of its frame as if it had been hit by a cannon shell, the bodyguards inside all let out shouts of surprise and alarm. “Th-The main door?! How?! What kind of monster are—” one of the men started to say.

“Tsk, tsk,” the Doctor said, interrupting him. “You shouldn’t be so rude to the courier.”

Ryoga began to walk forward, rolling his shoulders slightly. He stopped inside the main area, beckoning. “Come at me,” he said to the suit-wearing mercenaries.

They obliged, charging en masse with battlecries and raising clubs, nightsticks, batons, and other at-hand blunt weapons. As if he were a rock at sea, Ryoga simply stood there, and the first blow struck the back of his head…

The bat simply rebounded off as if the man had struck a concrete wall, spinning the mercenary back and causing him to trip and fall to the floor. Another one attempted to strike at Ryoga’s temple with his nightstick only for the plastic club to crack and splinter, a horrified expression coming onto the man’s face. As the Doctor and Cantabile simply walked in, allowing Ryoga to draw the attention of the mercenaries, the scene continued to play out, with Ryoga being almost comically unaffected by the assault and looking as though he were enduring a light breeze.

“Is this all you’ve got?” Ryoga asked, sighing. “How depressing. It means I have to hold back to not seriously hurt any of you.”

“You little—hoorgh!” The mercenary who was about to respond to Ryoga’s statement was cut off as he was bent nearly double over Ryoga’s fist hitting his midsection.

Ryoga clicked his tongue. “A fifth is still too much. Maybe I should use a tenth?” he wondered, turning and punching through a hastily raised baseball bat to strike another of the mercenaries in the jaw, sending him to the floor in a shower of splintered wood.

“He seems to be having fun,” the Doctor noted as he stepped into the room labeled for the mayoral assistant.

“It seems to be the opposite,” Cantabile disagreed. While the Doctor began searching through the door, she continued to watch Ryoga deconstruct the mercenary group. Largely her role was to protect the Doctor in case anyone tried to go for the easier target.

Such as one who decided that attacking a human tank would get him nowhere and was charging the office now, for instance. She stepped into his swing, her elbow deflecting his wrist, and jabbed him in the throat, causing him to stumble back with a choked sound, and her next swing went for his jaw. The man stumbled back, tottering back and forth for a moment, before dropping like a puppet whose strings were cut.

“Did Striker teach you that one?” the Doctor asked conversationally, pulling out a notebook and flipping through it.

“He did,” Cantabile admitted. “And this one.” The next one to come in tried to tackle Cantabile, who simply crouched under him in a display of her flexibility, then stood up to toss him over her shoulders and onto his back while keeping hold of his wrist. She quickly twisted his arm painfully, then delivered a swift kick to the chin, rendering the man unconscious.

“I suppose we can say you’re almost ready for active duty, then.” The Doctor picked up a few spiral-bound notebooks as well as several slips of paper. “I’ve found the logbooks and bonds. I believe we’re done here. Besides, the guest of honor has finally arrived,” he said, pointing to the main area where Cronin stared in horror at Ryoga utterly decimating his hired goons. The white-haired Liberi turned to the Doctor stepping out of his office, amber eyes glaring.

“Hey, you’re that Cronin jerk, right?” Ryoga asked, turning away from the last of the now very unconscious mercenaries. “Doctor, did you get everything for dealing with him?”

“Just about everything, yes,” the Doctor said, stepping next to Ryoga with Cantabile.

“I guess that just leaves you,” Ryoga said to Cronin, cracking his knuckles.

“Damn it all!” Cronin growled. “Whatever—it’s no trouble making up a registration if I get away from here!” Without waiting for Rhodes Island to respond, he turned and ran for the plate glass window to the front.

The Doctor raised a hand as Cantabile readied a knife, and Cronin leapt through the window. “Let him go. He won’t get far,” the Doctor said.

“You’re right… He has no idea what’s waiting for him.”

Cronin gasped for breath as he pushed himself to his feet, carefully avoiding the shards of glass in the street. “Damn them,” he growled raggedly, stumbling slightly as he started to walk. “I’ve got… to call the others back, right now…!”

A voice laced with a deep Ursusian accent spoke up, “The last time I came by here, it was Miss Ceylon and the Doctor of Rhodes Island who were fleeing from this building.” The speaker, a tall Liberi man in a heavy coat, stood in the street to block Cronin’s path. While Cronin recognized the man known as “Hellagur” according to the reports he had been given, the white-haired Cautus woman to Hellagur’s left and the dark-haired Lung woman to his right were total unknowns to him. “This time, it’s you. Karma is rather poetic like that, isn’t it?”

“You! What did you do to the others out here?” Cronin snarled.

“They would have been an eyesore to the beautiful view out here. Besides, there are two young ladies who you have kept waiting long enough,” Hellagur said. He and the two with him stepped aside, revealing Schwarz and Ceylon approaching. Behind them were two other women Cronin did not recognize.

“Schwarz…! And the two of you standing together… that must mean…!”

“It means ‘you’re toast,’” the Doctor of Rhodes Island said as he and his two allies exited the town hall by the front door.

“Please be careful, Doctor,” Hellagur advised. “He may make one more desperate attempt.”

“Damn you… Damn all of you…!”

Ceylon pointed accusingly. “Your plot has been exposed, Cronin!”

In the distance, the roar of the evening’s concert began to rise up. “So, Schwarz… You knew all along, did you?” Cronin said, trying to look for a way out.

“I was informed about the volcano by Ceylon,” Schwarz said. “What we then found out was that you tampered with the monitoring station’s data before accusing her of spreading false rumors.”

“That’s because we both know what Herman did!” Cronin shot back.

His blood ran cold as a familiar voice replied, “Then say it. If you already know, Cronin, then tell them.” None other than Herman Doykos, mayor of Siesta, walked into view, joining the group confronting Cronin. “But be sure to tell them what you did whenever I was ‘out on business.’ Tell them everything.”

“Father!” Ceylon gasped.

“What are you doing here?!” Cronin practically shrieked, recoiling back.

“Surprised to see me, Cronin?” Herman said, scowling. “Despite my ban on obsidian mining, I knew there was still a steady supply of fresh obsidian making its way to market. Time and time again, the mining team was seen at the entrance to the old mines, but no reports ever crossed my desk. Whatever they took would make its way through numerous logistics housings before eventually ending up at the City Hall’s abandoned warehouse.”

The mayor took a step forward, standing next to Schwarz and Ceylon now. “And despite the fact that I had set aside funding to provide support for our various Oripathy clinics throughout the city, I come to find that the Infected who have come here face en masse discrimination from city officials. Are you surprised to hear that, Cronin?”

Cronin hissed, backing up again, but said nothing.

Herman’s scowl turned into a furious glare as his voice raised. “Nothing to say? Well, it made my blood boil!” he shouted. “That's why I asked Schwarz to investigate on my behalf while I pretended to leave the city.”

“It seems just investigating the records on the relevant personnel was more than enough,” Hellagur mused.

“I would have shared all of this with you, Cronin. But you were just… too impatient.”

“Impatient?! Everything I’ve done has been for the sake of this city! And I learned that from you!” Cronin spat. “The Baru family ten years ago! The television station eight years ago! The way you persuaded, no, annexed the Tarak Tribe?! All of the things you’ve done taught me what I should do! Exploit, abandon, succeed by any means necessary! The ends justify the means!”

“It’s true that I’ve done many regrettable things in the past,” Herman admitted with a grim expression. “But I’ve never wagered the life of Siesta herself on it. What about the lives of the miners and researchers? The people of the city? Every one of our guests?” Herman shook his head. “You’ve lost your mind. I almost hate to say this, but Cronin, you’re fired!”

Cronin’s looked around desperately, before a manic grin formed on his face. He lifted his head and began cackling maniacally. “You senile fool! You can’t fire me! Thanks to your witless prattling, my men have all assembled together!” he exclaimed, then pointed accusingly at Herman as more of his mercenaries began to step into view on the streets. “As it stands, you have nothing left, Herman! I’ve spent years training these people! They understand the value of a life of hard work! And today, the climax of the festival, I’ll take what is truly mine and make my exit! But you… you still have no idea what’s going on, do you?!”

“The volcano’s going to erupt,” the redheaded woman from Rhodes Island said in a low, clipped tone. “Based on the data we got from Eyjafjalla, let me guess, there’s Originium under it? You’re counting on the eruption spreading Originium that you can come back and claim overtop our corpses and then sell the mining rights to.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Herman said, turning first from the redhead and then back to Herman.

“Of course I would dare! I’m the Catastrophe Messenger of this city! All you can do is witness your defeat and then join in Siesta’s destruction! But don’t worry—you’ll have the honor of dying to the eruption of the Siesta Volcano. After all, I can’t allow anyone but myself to know the secrets of this city.”

“Don’t underestimate Rhodes Island,” the Doctor said in a voice that sent a grave chill down Cronin’s spine.

“I’m disappointed in you, Cronin,” Herman said, stepping closer to Schwarz.

“You’re disappointed?! I’m disappointed in you, old man! I’ll never forget those nights living in a dumpster, scrounging for scraps to eat! Wealth is the key to a new life, something I’ve come to understand, while you would waste all the money we’ve worked so hard to earn on subhuman, Infected filth! You would bury the infinite potential of this city under your foolish hypocrisy!”

“Take a long look at yourself, Cronin,” Herman said. “Take all the time in the world to reflect on what you see from inside of a prison cell!”

“Or a grave,” the white-haired Cautus said ominously, her voice as cold as ice.

Mustering his flagging courage, Cronin gave his order. “Kill them!” He shrieked.

It was a slaughter. It just wasn’t the slaughter that Cronin wanted. The Lung woman moved too quickly for Cronin to see, striking with the hilt of her sword and sending his men to unconsciousness like she was scything wheat. The Cautus woman seemed to sing ice into existence, adding her own contribution to his men being knocked out. Schwarz seemed to alternate between blunted crossbow bolts or striking with the butt of her weapon. The Doctor of Rhodes Island seemed to be content issuing commands, but he did so under the protection of the man in yellow who seemed to be an invincible juggernaut, shrugging off whatever Cronin’s men threw at him. The tall Liberi man and the smaller Liberi woman were a terrifying pair, with the man striking with the back of his swords to break any lines that charged at him while the woman cut his men’s crossbow lines with knives, leaving them unarmed. Even the brunette woman in the tanktop was absolutely decimating his men with what appeared to be two gleaming points of light dancing through the fray.

But the worst of all had to be the redhead.

Wherever she appeared, his men fell en masse. She was visible only for a second or two at a time before striking again elsewhere, and to Cronin’s horror, she never looked at the men she was defeating. Those ice-blue eyes remained fixed on one thing: him. Control of certain parts of his anatomy began threatening to fail as more and more of his mercenaries fell at her hand, and her gaze remained unwaveringly fixed upon him, and the promise in those beautiful eyes was his certain, inevitable end.

All too soon, he had no one left. Staggering back in shock, eyes wide in horror, he fell back onto the street, raising his hand to ward off the others. He was again surrounded by the unstoppable forces of Rhodes Island. Somehow even more unnerving than the cold blue eyes was the featureless hood worn by the Doctor as he stood, almost in judgment, over Cronin, who cowered on the ground. At his side was Herman, who glared at him like a piece of refuse.

“By my side for fifteen years and all you’ve learned is some very unsavory tactics and even more unsavory thinking,” Herman said in disgust. “What a dullard you turned out to be.”

“‘Dullard?’” Cronin repeated back. Suddenly, his fear for his life lifted away. “Me, a dullard?” he repeated, beginning to laugh and laugh. Tears poured from his face as his laughter descended into absolute hysteria. “You think that I’m out of moves already, old man?!”

The ground began to shake ominously, and the Rhodes Island contingent began to look around in alarm. “What’s going on?” the Liberi man said.

“It couldn’t be… It’s the earthquake preceding the volcanic eruption!” Ceylon realized out loud.

More hysterical laughter burbled out of Cronin’s throat. “That’s right! It’s finally here! I don’t have to worry about seeing the inside of a jail cell! I might die, but so will all of you! We’ll all turn to ash together along with this miserable city! So what if you have all that ‘data,’ what does it matter? You’ll all burn with the city! I control all the escape passages—there’s no way out for you!”

Cronin was suddenly hauled up by his collar by the redheaded woman, who had a fist cocked back. “Shut up already,” she said, and her fist flew forward. Blackness swiftly fell over Cronin’s vision as consciousness left him.

Cronin would not regain consciousness for some time.

“Sorry about that, old man,” Ranma said, holding Cronin’s unconscious form out at arm’s length. “He was startin’ to get really annoying.”

“Young lady, you merely, albeit quite literally, beat me to the punch,” Herman said, glaring balefully at Cronin. “But he is right about the threat of the erupting volcano. You’re the Doctor of Rhodes Island? I must ask for your assistance in this matter.”

“Rhodes Island will be more than happy to assist,” the Doctor replied. “Provence and Skyfire have already been dispatched to the volcano, along with another ally. We’re also dispatching our squadrons to assist with the evacuation of the city. Of course, the cooperation of local law enforcement, as ordered by the Mayor, will certainly help to make that a smoother process.”

To say the mayor was cooperative was an understatement. Areas of the city were split between Rhodes Island crews and the local police to begin an orderly evacuation of the city. With the tremors that had already hit, Herman’s message of an impending eruption got people moving. The panic was, however, offset by a subsequent message received from Eyjafjalla, Provence, and Skyfire—the impending eruption, it seemed, was due to a very agitated volcanic Originium slug that had made her nest in the mountain.

With the mother slug, who had been nicknamed “Pompeii” by a Rhodes Island Operator of quick enough wit, subdued by the trio present, the eruption was postponed. The evacuations, however, continued, albeit at a less frantic pace. With Eyjafjalla confirming the volcano was still a real threat, there was no other choice—to save Siesta, they would have to convert to a mobile city, and they would need a more reliable economy than the tourism they had relied on.

But that, the Doctor said, was none of Ranma’s concern. Ranma’s job was done and it was time to finish enjoying his vacation, which he was more than happy to do.

Chapter Text

Falling from the sky was, Ranma decided, possibly the closest thing man could get to flight without managing to be truly exceptional. Of course, he planned to figure out how to fly, since he considered himself quite exceptional, and he knew it was possible in theory after seeing someone else do it.

“Hey! Stop spacing out!” a man’s voice interrupted his thoughts. The Rhodes Island pilot, Dylan, was held in Ranma’s right arm.

“Calm down,” another voice cut in. The Doctor of Rhodes Island, held in Ranma’s left arm. “If you don’t distract him, the landing will be feather soft, I promise.”

“From this high up?!”

“Trust me, even carrying you two dead weights, you’ll think you just took a step down off the curb!” Ranma said with a laugh. “Terminal velocity is just what someone like me calls ‘minimum safe speed!’”

“I really hope you’re right!” Dylan said, the grimace evident in his voice.

Ranma looked around, not addressing Dylan. The landing would be fine, he’d done it all the time. Ranma was more concerned about the others from Rhodes Island who had been on the plane as it was going down. While he was sure Gavial would be fine, and the ground would take more damage than Blaze would landing on it, he didn’t know Ceobe, Croissant, or Utage well enough to be sure.

Nothing I can really do about it now, he thought grimly. Focus on landing safely with the Doc and Dylan first.

“We’re headed right for the trees!” Dylan yelled in alarm.

“Striker?” the Doctor asked, still calm.

“No problem,” Ranma replied. The jungle canopy below approached quickly, and Ranma’s foot touched the first leaf, which promptly disintegrated, but Ranma felt his descent slow. The second leaf similarly discombobulated as Ranma’s foot hit it, followed by a third and a fourth, then the limb of the tree they had been attached to.

Then they reached the ground, which withstood the force of the descent far better than the tree had. Ranma took two steps to bleed off excess momentum, then gently set Dylan and the Doctor down on their feet. “Ground floor,” Ranma quipped. “How was the landing, Dylan?”

“F-Feather soft,” the pilot said, sounding amazed. “Just as promised.” He stared at the Doctor. “You knew he could do that?”

“I’ve jumped with Striker before,” the Doctor explained. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Dylan turned back to Ranma. “In that case… sorry for doubting you, Striker. Thanks for grabbing me before you and the Doctor jumped.” Ranma grinned and flashed a thumbs up to the pilot. “We should try to find where the Good Boy crashed. It can’t be too far from here, right?”

“I’d like to find the others but I also don’t wanna walk all the way home from here,” Ranma admitted. “So having the plane as a base to work out of is probably a good idea.” He hopped up to the tree canopy, looking around. “Aha! Smoke’s rising from over that way!” he said, pointing, before he hopped back down. “It’s about a kilometer, tops.”

“Let’s hurry, then, because smoke means fire,” Dylan said nervously.

“Running a kilometer in this heat,” the Doctor almost whimpered.

“You’re overdue for getting into shape anyway, Doc, get jogging!” Ranma quipped. “Unless you two want me to carry you again!”

“Change to your girl form and I’d consider it!” Dylan said, already jogging.

“You’re gonna want to run faster than that, Dylan!” Ranma yelled after him, but did not actually take off in pursuit. “Well, Doc? Get moving!”

The Doctor sighed miserably but began to jog after Dylan, and it was the Doctor’s pace that Ranma matched. Fortunately, the smoke plume they were approaching was definitely the crashed “Good Boy” aircraft operated by Rhodes Island. Even better, in Ranma’s opinion, was the sight of Gavial and the Perro Caster, Ceobe, hauling some emergency supplies out of the plane.

“Hey! It’s Ranma!” Gavial said, spotting the approaching trio. “And you brought the Doc and Dylan back! Nice!”

“So much heat. So much running,” the Doctor whimpered, doubled over with his hands on his knees.

“It was a light jog, less than a kilometer,” Ranma said. “You really need to get into shape, Doc. I’ll whip up a fitness regimen and have Hibiscus put together a meal plan for you.”

“That might be the slightest bit cruel, Ranma,” Gavial said with a laugh.

“Glad you guys are ok,” Ceobe chimed in, smiling at Ranma. While he had never worked with the dog-eared blonde, she had shown up to some of his training classes, so he was at least somewhat familiar with her.

“Don’t suppose you’ve heard from anyone else?” Ranma asked. Gavial shook her head in response.

“Nobody friendly, anyway. Did have an encounter with the locals, though,” she said. “Apparently they were here to salvage the plane, so I had to beat ‘em up! Of course, while I was beating them up, a couple of ‘em did steal the engine…”

“What?!” the Doctor exclaimed in a shrill voice, quickly running around to the front of the plane.

“See, he can move when properly motivated,” Ranma said with a grin as he followed. “And… yep, that’s definitely a hole where the engine used to be.

The Doctor clutched his hood in horror. “Kal’tsit is gonna kill me!” he shouted.

“And I’m gonna laugh!” Ranma teased. He couldn’t really blame the Doctor, though, given what Kal’tsit had said before they took off. The manipulative Feline had been explicitly clear about her expectations.

Earlier, aboard Rhodes Island…

“A letter?” Kal’tsit asked.

Gavial nodded. “Yeah, from someone back in my homeland. They’re holding the Mahuizzotia soon.”

“That means ‘strength and honor,’ doesn’t it?”

“Hey, you know it?” Gavial asked, grinning. “Yeah, that’s what they call the ceremony for choosing the next Great Chief.”

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard anyone use that language,” Kal’tsit admitted. “Still, as I recall, you left your homeland behind to come to Rhodes Island. In fact, I believe you were ostracized for some reason. So the ceremony of choosing the Great Chief shouldn’t matter to you at all.”

“It really doesn’t,” Gavial said bluntly. “I’ve got no interest at all in being the Great Chief. But the lil’ brat who sent me the letter seems like she wants me to come back for a bit. And I haven’t been back in a while, so…”

“So you’re feeling homesick.”

“Maybe a little.”

“And why ask to bring the Doctor? Biologically speaking, he could never pass for one of you.”

“Well, he’s been working so hard. On top of that, his vacation got interrupted. So I figured it’d be nice to take him to a jungle paradise for a little bit.”

Kal’tsit stared blankly at Gavial for a moment, then turned to the person with her. “And the purpose of the aircraft requisition form, Blaze?”

“Well, Gavial’s old place is way out in the middle of nowhere!” Blaze said. “And who wants to walk that far?”

“Someone taking a low-altitude flight through Sargon, assuming you survived being shot down.”

“Now hold on, we checked the maps and it’s one of the least densely populated areas of Sargon—they don’t even station any forces there! We double and even triple checked our intel on the region!”

“True, the region is only nominally Sargon’s. Why, then, involve me in your plans?”

Blaze looked sheepish as she poked her fingertips together. “A-Any and all paperwork passes through you.”

Kal’tsit again lapsed into silent, almost baleful, staring.

“Look, are we good or not, Kal’tsit?” Gavial interjected. “If we are, we’ve got a lot of prep to do. If we’re not, then just tell us and we’ll call it off.”

Blaze began to whisper to the hooded Doctor. “Doctor, let’s just call it off, there’s no way she approves—”

“Fine. Request approved, with a few caveats,” Kal’tsit said, signing the form before her and ignoring Blaze’s surprised outburst. “You’ve never introduced us to your homeland, so this is a good opportunity. We can even treat it as a field investigation, so you may select any off-duty operators you like.”

“Sweet!” Gavial cheered.

“And considering your core standing in Rhodes Island, we can also afford to give the Doctor this leave, considering the accompaniment of an Elite Operator.”

“Score!” Blaze cheered this time.

“However.” Kal’tsit’s sharp voice cut in, quelling the celebratory mood. “There are three restrictions: first, Amiya is very busy as of late, and so she is not permitted to go. Doctor, you will tell her this yourself. Second: you will technically be entering Sargon territory, and we have very few branches there, so do not make any trouble with the local government for yourselves or Rhodes Island. Third: bring Striker with you, and make sure he’s conversationally fluent in Sargonian before you get there.”

“Wait, Ranma? Not that I’m opposed, but why?” Gavial asked.

“His vacation was interrupted, too. He can also serve as an informal bodyguard to the Doctor.” Kal’tsit sipped her tea, making a face as it had gone cold. Setting it aside, she continued. “Rhodes Island’s low-altitude aircraft are tremendously important to us and Sargon is a very rough environment. I expect you to bring that vehicle back safe and sound.”

At the crash site of the Good Boy…

“Oooh yeah, she did say something about that, didn’t she?” Gavial said. “Hey, no worries, though!” She marched up to the hatch. “Hey, Lancet-2! So the engine’s missing—if we can get it back, you can repair it, right?”

“Yes, Miss Gavial,” the synthesized voice of the spherical medical robot, Lancet-2, replied from inside the aircraft. “They were very careful about its removal. Hardly anything else was damaged. They certainly seemed to have some understanding of technology. If you will excuse me, however, there are some emergency repairs I must complete before something explodes…”

“There, see? I know this place like the back of my hand, so we’ll go fetch the engine and get it back in place,” Gavial said. “Then Kal’tsit will only maim you slightly.”

“How does one maim ‘slightly?’” Ranma asked.

“Very carefully, I imagine,” Gavial replied with a grin, but the grin slowly faded to a frown. “More importantly, they had an understanding of technology? That means they must have been from her tribe, she was the only one more interested in anything more advanced than ‘sharp stick poke enemy or prey.’”

“Hey! I’m hungry!” Ceobe suddenly called out.

“Well, then grab something. All the food reserves are fine, right?” Gavial asked.

“They should be fine,” Lancet-2’s voice called. “But… oh, dear. The storage system was damaged by the crash-landing, and the storage compartment is sealed. I’ll need some time to unlock it again.”

“No problem,” Ranma said as he climbed in the hatch. The damage was extensive, he noted, but the spherical Lancet-2 was already hard at work on repairs. “I can probably get in real easily. But it might make a mess for you, Lancet-chan. What’s easier to clean up—breaching the wall or smashing the lock?”

“Lancet-chan?” the medical robot repeated back. The feminine voice took on an almost bashful tone as she responded. “M-My, my, Striker, how forward. How much debris would your breaching create?”

“Not much. I could make a clean circular cut right through the storage wall.”

“Oh, then if you can limit it to about a meter in diameter, that should allow you to get inside to retrieve our emergency supplies,” Lancet replied. “That would be much easier to repair as well, since it would be a simple weld.”

“No problem,” Ranma said, walking up to the storage wall. “Haa!” he cried out, focusing his energy as he put his fingertips to the wall, moving his hands in semicircles. With a careful push, he turned the cut out piece, plucking it from the wall. “There we go.”

“Marvelous!” Lancet-2 cheered. “Yes, that’s a perfect cut, Striker. I’ll be able to repair that without any additional difficulties.”

Ranma tossed off a snappy salute, ducking into the hole. Only a few moments later, he slipped back out, retrieving the cut out piece and sliding it back into place. “Let us know if you need anything else, alright, Lancet-chan?”

“My! Thank you, Striker, I will,” the robot chirped as Ranma departed through the hatch.

“Yo, got the food reserves!” he said, tossing a ration bar to Gavial, then another to the Doctor and one to Dylan. As he was pulling out two more—one for himself and one for Ceobe—he was suddenly struck from the side with tremendous force and both ration bars were snatched right out of his hand. As he shakily kipped up to his feet, he looked around for the attacker… only to see Ceobe ravenously tearing into both ration bars he had pulled out.

“Mm! Shank joo, Shriker!” Ceobe said around a mouthful of the last of the food bars. She swallowed it down, looking expectantly at him with her tail wagging in excitement. “More?!” she almost begged, eyes wide.

Ranma felt a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck as he pulled out two more bars to hand to the ravenous Perro. She just as quickly began tearing into them. Is that what it looks like when I go on a feeding frenzy? he wondered as he pulled one out to finally get to eat as well.

“Hey, Striker, can I get a couple more of those?” Dylan asked. “Or maybe more like three or four. I won’t be much good for trying to fight Gavial’s countrymen to get our stuff back, but I can stay here and help Lancet out with repairs.

“I took about half the reserves so maybe once you guys are done with the critical repairs, you and she can get the storage working again before you eat all of these,” Ranma said, handing three more bars over to Dylan.

“Our potable water supplies are in there as well, so that’s a good idea,” Dylan said, slipping the three bars into a pouch on his hip. He quickly backed away from Ceobe as she stepped close, eyeing the pouch hungrily.

“Alright, Ceobe, leave the guy alone, Ranma’s got all the food,” Gavial said. “C’mon, we should get moving—”

“Gaaaviiiaaalll!” a girl’s voice called from the treeline.

“Ah, crud, I know that voice,” Gavial muttered, slumping over slightly. All Ranma caught was a blur as a pale-skinned girl in loose-fitting black clothing slammed into his friend, driving her back a few feet.

“Gavial, you’re here, you’re here!” the girl squealed, clinging to Gavial’s waist and only reaching about shoulder high on the green-haired woman. Unlike Gavial’s slender crocodile tail, the new girl’s tail was quite thick and a slightly gray-black color. “Your hair’s so long! And your clothes are so nice! Hey, you have a weapon now? How come? That doesn’t look like it’d be good for hitting people.”

“Gah! Let go, Tomimi! Yes, I’m here, now leggo!”

“Alright, alright,” the pale-skinned Archosauria girl said, backing off. “Have you been eating okay? Are you really a doctor now?”

Gavial sighed, not answering the pestering questions. “What are you doing here, Tomimi?”

“I saw a thing fall out of the sky and came to investigate,” Tomimi explained. “That’s when I found you! Oh! Um, is your disease thing better yet? I read that people outside can get Stone Disease really bad!”

“I’m fine, Tomimi,” Gavial replied, ruffling the pale girl’s hair. “Never better, in fact!”

“Gavial!” called out another Archosauria, this one looking a bit more crocodile-like, as he and several others stepped out of the treeline. “It’s true! You are back! Good to see you alive and well! Well, no doubt now, you’re definitely the one to be the next Great Chief!”

“Dream on,” Gavial shot back. “I’m just here on leave. Like a little vacation! I’m not here to be Chief again—great or otherwise.”

“Gavial, didn’t you say you were ostracized from your tribe?” the Doctor suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah. Why?”

“W-Wait, Gavial,” Tomimi said, eyes wide as she looked over at the others, pointing to the Doctor. “Who’s this?”

“This is the Doctor of Rhodes Island. Think of him as kind of my boss. Hey, your Sargonian’s gotten pretty good, huh?”

“I learned it so I could speak with you! … And who are these others?”

“These are some friends from work,” Gavial explained.

“Gavial’s boss… you must be pretty strong! Are you even stronger than her?”

The Doctor gave a brief chuckle. “No, nothing like that.”

“Really? Then how are you her boss?”

“Because he’s smart,” Ranma said, putting a hand on the Doctor’s shoulder.

“Yeah, if you want someone who’s as strong as me, that’s him right there,” Gavial said, pointing at Ranma. “His name’s Ranma, and he’s one of the best warriors at Rhodes Island. We fight all the time, and he can actually beat me!”

Tomimi turned huge, wide eyed filled with awe on Ranma. “Whoooaaa…”

“But, anyway, we have bigger problems,” Gavial said. “Zumama’s people stole our aircraft engine. Since when does she have minions?”

“What’s an aircraft engine? Is that like… a motory thingy?” Tomimi asked. “Oh, wait! Zumama! She’s a tribe Chieftain now, yeah. In fact, some people say they want her to be the next Great Chief.”

“So that’s how it is… Makes sense, she was always interested in weird machinery and advanced weaponry,” Gavial muttered.

“Could be she’s the one who shot us down, then,” Ranma suggested.

“If you want to see Zumama, she’ll be at the ceremony tomorrow!” Tomimi chimed in enthusiastically. “Every aspiring Chief will be at the Temple so Zumama will definitely be there!”

“Sounds like we wanna be there, too, then,” Ranma said with a grin to Gavial. “I’ll fight ya for who gets to fight her to get our engine back.”

“Keep dreaming, Saotome,” Gavial replied, also grinning. “I call dibs. Hey, Tomimi, didn’t you have it in your little noggin to be chief, too? Why don’t you show me how far you’ve come?”

Tomimi lowered her head, muttering just quietly enough that Ranma barely heard, “I still want you to be Chief, Gavial.”

“Huh? Whazzat?”

“Nothing!”

Ranma glanced over to the Doctor, sharing a look with the hooded figure through the mesh face covering, but there was a slight shake of the Rhodes Island officer’s head that kept Ranma’s tongue from going off. Luckily, they were interrupted by Lancet-2 rolling back out. “Doctor, emergency maintenance is complete. Are we setting off?”

“Hey, nice work, Lancet! Yeah, we’re heading to the Temple next,” Gavial said.

“Whoa! The machine talks!” Tomimi said in amazement.

“I like to think I would be prepared for that response, but it still hurts my heart to hear,” Lancet lamented. “Though technically I don’t have a heart, I suppose.”

“Don’t fret, Lancet-chan. She couldn’t know.”

“Thank you, Striker,” Lancet replied bashfully.

“Anyway, the plane won’t explode anymore, right?” Gavial cut back in.

“It won’t,” Lancet-2 agreed. “But it’s far from ideal to simply leave it there…”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be maimed slightly by Kal’tsit either…”

“I-I can send some of my people to haul it home,” Tomimi said. “Would that help?”

“Your tribe, huh?” Gavial grinned. “Didn’t realize you were a clan chief now, Tomimi. Nice work!”

“Well, it’s actually your tribe…”

“So that’s why I recognized a few faces!”

“And, actually, we’re not ‘Wilderness’s Will’ anymore, we’re ‘Gavial’s Will!’ Because we all think you’re the greatest!”

Gavial let out a surprised cough, eyes wide. “Oh, uh, okay, well, I’ll leave that to you then…”

As Tomimi turned to issue orders to the Archosauria who had accompanied her, Lancet-2 chimed in again. “If that’s the case, I believe Mr. Dylan and I should remain with the aircraft to assist. I would only cause problems if I went, and the aircraft should remain under guard.”

“No way you’d cause any problems, Lancet-chan. But you’d miss this ceremony thing.”

“My, is that an invitation of accompaniment?” As Ranma watched, he would almost have sworn that Lancet-2’s normal running lights shifted to a slightly red hue. “I appreciate the offer of your company, Striker, but you needn’t worry. I prefer the quieter side of things.”

“Guess it’s just you, me, the Doc, and Kay, then,” Gavial said.

“Where is Kay?” the Doctor suddenly asked.

A chill ran down Ranma’s spine as he searched the immediate area, seeing no sign of the Perro in the vicinity. “How the hell did she…”

“Ah, do you mean the one over there babbling like she’s half-possessed?”

In the distance, Ranma could faintly see Kay swinging her massive axe around as if engaged in combat with an invisible foe. “I won’t let you hurt the Doctor, Reunion!” she yelled. “Ah! No! Wait! Don’t take my honey biscuits! Stop! Get back here!”

“So, that looks like she’s hallucinating. Are there poison mushrooms around here?” he asked almost conversationally.

Gavial sighed. “Shit. Yeah, there are. I didn’t think about it or I would have warned you guys. There’s some bad fruits, too. And I forgot the kid is even more wild than me. She must have snuck off while we were busy to get more ‘snacks.’ Ranma, I know it’s a big ask, but can you grab her and tie her up so Lancet-2 can keep an eye on her? She should be fine after a bit, but still.”

“Sure thing,” Ranma replied, He walked over to where Ceobe was still wildly swinging her axe and going on about getting her honey biscuits back. “Alright, Kay, time for you to take it down a few notches before you hurt yourself.”

“Aha! Instructor Striker! I knew all your running around with those former Reunion meant you were up to no good!” Ceobe said as she turned to face him, brandishing her axe. As he took a close look, he saw there was not even the slightest hint of rationality in her eyes. “Well, I won’t let you hurt the Doctor or take my hard-won honey biscuits!”

As Ceobe continued delivering a speech worthy of a magical girl main heroine character, Ranma took a moment to consider the situation. In every instructional spar with Ceobe, she had learned fairly quickly but had only been slightly above average on strength. On the other hand, she was incredibly fast and, by his estimates, nearly as tough as Ryoga. Bringing her down would be simple enough. Bringing her down without seriously hurting her would be another matter entirely, even with the length of rope he had hidden up his sleeve.

“Now, prepare to receive divine punishment for your offenses!” Ceobe said, swinging the axe. He felt the chill wafting off of it as he dodged, realizing she was likely using her elemental Arts. He ducked under a horizontal swing, stepping to the side and feinting a punch at her.

To her credit and despite her inebriated state, Ceobe saw through the feint and swung her axe down at Striker. He stepped forward with a grin, swinging the edge of his palm at her wrist. As the leverage of her swing went completely awry, so too did the axe, which tumbled wildly out of her grasp and clattered along the ground. She swung a wild left at his face and he slid back, rolling to retrieve the axe and tossing it even further away.

“Heehee,” Ceobe giggled. “I’m not done yet, Striker!” She reached behind her back and suddenly called out “Dadadadada!”

Ranma’s eyes went wide as the first knives flew at him at, quite literally, blazing speeds. Narrowly flipping and spinning out of the path of the fiery knives, he tried to move closer, only for her to switch to the really big spear on her back and swing it at him like a mallet dropping on him from above. The ground actually cracked under the impact, but fortunately the heavy weapon was much slower than the axe or knives had been. Ranma drew his hand back as he stepped in, taking a breath to focus his energies.

“Geimon Tessen Shi!” he yelled out, thrusting his palm forward with his fingers splayed out. The heel of his hand impacted Ceobe’s sternum with enough force to shatter a heavy gate’s lock, driving her back with a gasp and causing her arms to come up to defend herself. Unfortunately, it was exactly what Ranma expected and intended. “Moko Kaimon Ha!” he yelled, stepping forward and sweeping his hands up as if barging through a now-broken gate, shoving her arms away as he lifted his foot, delivering a harsh kick to her midsection.

Ceobe doubled over with an explosive cough, clutching at her stomach as she wheezed for breath, and Ranma moved in at that moment. He flipped over Ceobe’s head, reaching around her to grab her wrists and pulling her arms behind her back. Before she could jerk free, he already had a length of rope out, deftly tying Ceobe’s wrists together. “Gotcha!” he said triumphantly.

He did not expect her to suddenly press back against him, wriggling almost excitedly. “You sure did,” she said breathily, a flush rising to her face and causing him to flinch back slightly. Luckily, at that moment, Gavial reached in, grabbing a handful of Ceobe’s hair and dragging her, protesting in confusion, away from Ranma and back toward Lancet. The medic operator promptly tied Ceobe’s ankles together before turning back toward a still reddening Ranma.

“Guess you got her a little excited being all badass like that, and I see the feeling’s mutual,” Gavial quipped. “Too bad none of your girlfriends came along on this trip or they might take care of that for you. Think a cold shower would help?”

“Oh, shut up, Gavial,” Ranma grumbled, taking a deep breath to steady himself. It was hard to deny that Ceobe was very attractive in a wild, even almost feral way… and in the traditional way as well. He had definitely not expected her to respond like that after supposedly being captured by “the enemy.” “Let’s get going.”

“I will monitor Miss Kay’s condition,” Lancet chimed in. “However, bear in mind that while it’s quite hot right now, this environment is prone to drastic nighttime swings in temperature. Please bring the appropriate supplies.”

“Ooh, nice catch. Doc, Tomimi, you two grab what we need from the aircraft,” Gavial said. “It’s a pretty long way to the Temple from here and there’s not really any good places to sleep in the rainforest. Get ready to sleep out in the open.”

“Just like old times,” Ranma mumbled.

“So, how’d you sleep, Doc?” Ranma asked. While he found the beds aboard Rhodes Island comfortable, he had to admit that there was something he had missed about sleeping under an open sky.

“I’ve never felt more alive,” the Doctor replied in an annoyed tone, massaging his temples through his hood.

“Somehow, I have my doubts,” Gavial said with her own grin. “I’m gonna warn you now, Doctor. It’s not going to get any easier. But hey, c’mon. Ranma and I went scrounging and found some good stuff to make soup with. Eat up, you’ll feel better.”

“I—I didn’t sleep very well, either!” Tomimi interjected as she emerged from her tent.

“Huh? And you call yourself an Archosauria?”

“A-Archo…” Tomimi sniffled, tears welling up. “Weh… Gavial doesn’t even remember what we call ourselves…!”

“Ah, crap, I forgot, didn’t I…? Right, listen up, you guys,” Gavial said, turning to her fellow Rhodes Islanders. “The tribes here don’t divvy themselves up by race. The big three you get here are Archosauria, Phidia, and Liberi. So Tomimi and I are Archosauria, Zumama’s a Phidia, and so on. But we all count ourselves as Tiacauh—‘one valiant in war,’ in our language. Also, not that it’s likely to come up as important, but this land is called Acahualla—or, ‘land where the sun overgrows.’” She turned to stare at Tomimi. “Alright, enough bawling your eyes out. Let’s get moving before we run out of daylight.”

Tomimi sniffled again. “Rhodes Island… Doctor…”

“Oh, right, so a company is—”

“Oh, I know that! I’ve done a lot of reading into the outside world! Like my new outfit, which is really fashionable on the outside!”

Gavial eyed Tomimi doubtfully, glancing over to the Doctor. “Is that so, Doctor?”

“I’ve seen it in a few magazines,” the hooded figure said evasively. “I’m not much of a fashion judge either.”

“Well, we’ll just agree it looks good on you,” Gavial said, causing Tomimi to light up from the praise. “Let’s keep walking and you can tell my friends all about this area.”

Eager to fulfill Gavial’s request, Tomimi pulled out a map and began explaining the nuances of Acahualla and tribal life. Highlighted by Tomimi were three especially powerful tribes—the Eunectes tribe that had settled near a collection of ore veins and was led by the “Zumama” Gavial had mentioned, the Flint tribe led by Kemar, and the more mercantile “Inam Committee” headed by a woman named Inam. Gavial seemed entirely unsurprised by Zumama setting up shop near a source of raw material.

“Are you really not gonna be our next Great Chief, Gavial?” Tomimi asked.

“There’s stuff on the outside I gotta do,” Gavial said. “Maybe one day I’ll come back here, but not today, at least. And what about you? You said you were gonna go for it in your letter, even trained a lot for it.” Tomimi nodded eagerly at that. “Then I look forward to the show!”

As the party continued along, Ranma turned to the side, catching what looked like a distant argument between two Archosauria. In addition to the shouting, the two were also making a point of pummeling each other with every argumentative point.

Gavial looked where Ranma was watching and laughed at the sight. “Ah, you see that all the time around here. Let’s keep moving,” she said, beginning to walk along.

“You’re done for, Thin-Tails!” one of the Archosauria said. “I’m gonna make you admit that Thick-Tails is where it’s at!” Gavial suddenly froze in place, and Ranma stifled a chuckle, recalling back to a certain table getting embedded in a wall.

“I’ll never admit to something like that!” the other protested. “Except maybe in your dreams!”

“Hey! You!” Gavial suddenly said, pointing at “Thick-Tails” and standing at “Thin-Tails”’s side. “Say that again! I wanna know if I need to kick your ass!”

“Who are you?” Thick-Tails said, flinching back. “Don’t tell me you’re a Thin-Tails, too!”

“Like hell I am, but lemme get this straight: you think thick tails are better?”

“Well, obviously! Look at mine! It’s sturdy, strong, plump and plush! What’s better than a nice, thick tail like this, huh?”

“Well, I can’t pretend I didn’t hear stupid shit like that!” Gavial said, turning to present her tail. “Look at my tail here! Slim, thin, elegant! Clean and distinct contours! Why, I can even use it to grab things! This is a tail!”

“Thin-tails for life!” Thin-Tails said, cheering.

“You have to be kidding! You can’t even see a tail like that behind your ass!” Thick-Tails shot back.

“Well, shout out to yours, because I bet your ass loves that you can’t sit down because of how fat your tail is!” Gavial retorted.

“So it’s not just Gavial who gets worked up about tails,” Ranma said to Tomimi, smirking.

“You might say a tail is an Archosauria’s greatest pride, actually,” Tomimi replied. “It’s a very common topic of debate. In fact, entire tribes have sprung up advocating for thick tails and thin tails.”

“Xolopitlipol!” Thick-Tails spat. “Brothers! Come on out! Today’s the day that we make it known: thick tails reign supreme!”

Ranma’s eyes widened at the sight of a small army of Archosauria pouring out of the woodwork. “That’s a lot of ‘em,” he observed somewhat mildly.

“Um, yes, I’m going to go help Gavial, excuse me,” Tomimi said, hurrying over to Gavial’s side.

“Are you going to fight?” the Doctor asked Ranma.

Ranma winced as Gavial picked up one of the thick-tail Archosauria and used him as a bludgeon on another. “Nah, I think I’ll stay out of this one unless she really needs the help,” he said. “After all, I’m supposedly here as your bodyguard anyway, and only because our actual vacation got interrupted with that whole volcano thing.”

“Normally, you jump at the opportunity to get involved in things like that.”

“Normally, I jump at the chance to kick jackasses in the head,” Ranma replied in a deadpan tone, shaking his head. As the two watched, Gavial now had someone in a submission hold that allowed her to move his arm to force him to rain blows down upon his own face. “Considering how this whole thing started, I’d be kicking Gavial in the head, too.”

“That’s fair enough…”

Gavial spun around, her tail smacking away several Thick-Tail supporters, and threw the one she was still holding into the middle of the group, bowling them over. “Ha! Sparring with Saotome so much has really helped me improve! You guys are pathetic!” she crowed.

“Happy to be of service,” Ranma quipped with a sardonic smirk.

“Guh! That reaper’s whirlwind… and that hair-clip… It can’t be Gavial?!” one of the pummeled Archosauria spat.

“The one and only!”

“Dammit, that’s just our luck, running into you like this!” The Archosauria forced himself up to his feet with a wince, clutching his side. “D-Don’t get ahead of yourself, though, Gavial! Not even you can shake our faith in thick tails!” He raised his hand in a fist, then lowered the arm as if pulling something down. Apparently taking it as some sort of signal, the other Thick-Tailed supporters fell back into the foliage—though many of them had to limp back in order to do so.

“Yeah, yeah, you think you’re hot shit, just keep on running,” Gavial called after them, laughing. “Alright, let’s keep moving. I can chase them down and sort them out later.”

“For what? Because they like thick tails?” Ranma asked, frowning. “If that’s the sort of thing you’re gonna use all of our practice matches for, I’m gonna have to kick you out of my classes and off my sparring list.”

“Huh? Wait, what for?” Gavial whined, turning back to face Ranma, who crossed his arms in response.

“The first duty of a martial artist is to protect the weak and defenseless,” Ranma asserted. “That means if you’re gonna use what I’ve taught you to bully people weaker than you because you guys have a difference of opinion, then I’m gonna have to go after you myself, Gavial—coworker or not, friend or not. And I won’t play nice, either.”

Gavial’s body tensed up at the implied threat, and her eyes narrowed at Ranma for a moment. Her tail lashed aggressively in the air behind her… and then lowered as she slumped slightly. “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she admitted. “Time was I would have chased them all down and beaten them senseless. I must be getting soft with Rhodes Island.”

“You’re letting him cow you like that, Gavial?” Tomimi gasped.

“I’m not ‘letting’ anything like that happen,” Gavial replied with a grumble. “I just… It’s not worth fighting Ranma just to go knock a bunch of heads in. It’s different if they’re causing trouble, right?”

Ranma shrugged easily, his posture relaxing. “Sure. If they come out of the jungle swinging, I’ll help knock some sense into them,” he said with a cool-neutral expression. “But we stop at the knocking of sense. We don’t go chasing them down for no reason.”

“I think she gets the message, Striker,” the Doctor said.

“You really have changed, Gavial,” Tomimi said. “If someone had challenged you like that in the old days, you’d have fought him!”

“Oh, I will. I’m gonna fight Ranma a lot, in fact,” Gavial said. “Just not about this. He’s right. I should know better—we’re Rhodes Island, we’re not a bunch of bullies. Which is why I won’t make fun of you about how fat your tail has gotten.”

“Weh?!” Tomimi flinched, pointedly not looking over her shoulder as her tail—which was notably thicker than Gavial’s—flicked in surprise. “I-It’s not like I wanted a thick tail, I wanted a nice, slim one like yours…”

“Poor kid,” Gavial said, patting Tomimi on the head and clicking her tongue. “Though, hey, your Arts are pretty strong now, huh? Been practicing with the shamans while I was gone?”

“Uh-huh!” Tomimi nodded excitedly, her fists coming up under her chin. “I’ve been practicing for the day you returned!”

“The day I…?”

“So I could help, I mean!” Tomimi added hastily.

“Heh, well, you sure were a big help. Hey, you should come work for Rhodes Island with me! I bet we could make a hell of an Operator out of you!”

Tomimi blushed slightly, smiling. “I love when you praise me… but, oh! The temple’s just ahead, we should keep going!”

“Right! Let’s go!” Gavial said.

As the jungle began to thin out in favor of the outskirts of a village, Ranma began to look around. Several people with crocodile-like features were clustered around just off the trail, chatting animatedly about the coming trials for the Great Chief. One thing he took note of was the collective reaction to Gavial: as people saw her, they inevitably turned to cheer for her and greet her. Despite her earlier protests, Gavial seemed all too happy to soak in the cheers and praise, waving her arms to greet everyone who called out to her.

“Didn’t she say she was kicked out of her tribe?” he muttered to the Doctor. The hooded figure simply shrugged, giving a shake of his head that was barely visible under the shrouded clothing.

“Heh, this bunch is getting pretty rowdy,” Gavial said as the crowd started moving toward the road and cheering her name. “Maybe we should pick up the pace a bit.”

“It’s only natural,” Tomimi said, “because everyone loves the ceremony and everyone loves Gavial! Oh, look!”

“Huh?” Gavial squinted at a sign propped up against a low stone wall. “Oh, hey, Mahuizzotia. We’re here!”

Ranma cocked his head to the side. “Anyone else hear music?” he asked.

Gavial blinked, coming to a stop. “Hey, I do. I kinda recognize it, too. Is that AUS?” The distant sound of music playing was briefly drowned out by a loud cheer.

“Alive Until Sunset, for certain,” the Doctor replied. “Your people have good taste.”

“Never heard of ‘em,” Ranma admitted with a shrug. “Music sounds good though. Almost as good as that pounding beat D.D.D. had back in Siesta.”

“AUS is very popular here in Acahuallah!” Tomimi chimed in. “They showed up around this time last year and held a concert at Inam’s tribe. Ever since then, people have kind of been treating them as heralds of the Mahuizzotia.”

Gavial gave a little whistle. “I’ve never gotten to see them play in person,” she said. “I’ve heard they use Arts during their concerts to hype up the experience.”

“They gave a performance at the temple recently,” Tomimi said, looking dreamy. “It was wonderful! You could feel their Arts, and ever since then, lots of Tiacauh have fallen in love with their music. They disappeared one day… Everyone thought they returned to their ancestors’ embrace, but I knew they just left like Gavial had. Ever since then, you mostly hear their music coming through the speakers and records they left behind.”

“Speakers?” Gavial asked, incredulous.

“Uh-huh! They do need Arts to work, though, so mostly only shamans can do that, and most of them are in Inam’s tribe.”

“Well, I can’t deny their songs really get the blood pumping.” Gavial grinned as her tail wriggled behind her. “C’mon, guys, let’s go in and see! I’m getting excited now!”

Ranma snorted as Gavial ran ahead and through the gate at the wall. He chose to fall in beside the Doctor instead, slipping his hands into the pockets of his uniform jacket. “She’s like an excited little kid. Trying to hide it, but she’s all giddy about getting to come home,” he said with a grin of his own.

“Would you be any different if we could get you back to Earth?” the Doctor asked.

Ranma’s expression sobered immediately. “I… don’t know,” he admitted. “I like it here. Lots of strong opponents. I have friends here. Canta-chan’s here. Maybe, maybe not.” He shook his head. “At least… I don’t think I could leave Canta-chan.”

“That’s fair,” the Doctor said. “I can accept that answer for now.”

The two passed under the gate, trailed by Tomimi, and Ranma looked around. If the village outside had been excitable, the assemblage inside the wall’s perimeter was a roaring crowd. An elevated platform had two Archosaurian—or would that be Tiacauh?—warriors duking it out viciously, and people in various tribal clothings were cheering or jeering as the fight went on.

A shade of skin that was decidedly not the mottled gray of the locals caught his eye, along with a familiar hue of lavender. Ranma’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of a young woman in tight, very revealing leather tribal clothing that showed off long legs and a curvaceous body. She was pumping her fist in the air along with several Tiacauh spectators and cheering loudly—even jumping slightly in the air which had certain effects on her figure.

“I need to get out of this jungle,” Ranma declared quietly and firmly. “Which way is it back to Rhodes Island? I’ll walk.”

The Doctor glanced over at Ranma, then pointed vaguely in a direction. “Should be somewhere that way if they’re sticking to the itinerary,” he noted. “But that takes you through some very hostile environments and unfriendly territory. And it’s a long way besides—that’s why we flew.”

“I think I’ll risk it,” Ranma said, starting to back away slowly from the ringside crowd.

“Hey! Ranma!” Gavial yelled, and Ranma winced, wishing that she hadn’t. “Doctor! I took a quick stroll around.” The tribeswoman-turned-medic walked up to the pair even as the lavender-haired girl standing ringside began to turn around. While Gavial continued to speak, dark pink eyes wide with surprise roamed the crowd in search. “Doesn’t seem like anyone else landed here, so we’ll need to head back into the rainforest to find them.”

“Ranma?” a woman’s voice whispered. The lavender-haired beauty in her skimpy tribal clothing walked over, eyes still wide as she approached, taking in the sight of Ranma in his Rhodes Island gear.

“Hey, she’s a cutie, someone you know?” Gavial asked with a grin, slapping Ranma on the back.

“He-Hey, Shampoo,” Ranma replied, holding up a hand and waving weakly.

“Ranma!” Shampoo cried out, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around him. Just as strong as he remembered, if not moreso, Ranma found the squeezing and pressure to be akin to a great snake. “I missed you!” she cried in Japanese—or Higan, if using the name for the Terran country. “I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!”

“So, you do know her,” Gavial said in Sargonian.

“Very observant,” Ranma replied sarcastically in the same language, earning a mischievous grin from the medic operator. “Shampoo, you ended up here in Sargon?”

“She’s wearing Tiacauh clothes,” Gavial concluded. “That means she’s earned a place in the tribe.”

“She’s with Gavial’s Will!” Tomimi said. “She actually arrived about a year ago… Did I forget to mention it in my letter?”

“You kinda did, you brat.”

“Wo ai ni, airen,” Shampoo said with a giggle, her hands coming up to caress Ranma’s face. Before he could think to stop her, she was already pressing her lips against his, one hand sliding around to the back of his head while the other slid down to his chest.

Gavial gave a low whistle. “Alright, Saotome, something you wanna tell us about this gorgeous young woman?” she said, crossing her arms.

Shampoo blinked, pulling away from the spluttering and stammering Ranma and raising an eyebrow at Gavial. “Who are you?” she asked in Sargonian.

“This is Gavial, the person who the tribe is named for,” Tomimi said insistently. “You should listen to her like you would to me!”

“Hey, you’re the chieftain, not me,” Gavial retorted to Tomimi, before facing Shampoo. “I’m Gavial, medical operator at Rhodes Island. I’m one of Ranma’s coworkers.”

“Not fiancee? Girlfriend? Lover?” Shampoo asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I like him but not that way.” Gavial paused to consider it. “Well, actually, I wouldn’t mind a fling or two with him, but I’m not interested in settling down. Who are you?”

“My name is Shampoo.” Shampoo released Ranma just long enough to bow. “I am a warrior of Nyuchiezu… and now of Tiacauh. I am also Ranma’s wife.”

The Doctor slipped his hands into his pockets, turning slightly to face Ranma directly. “You never mentioned you were married.”

“Didn’t honestly think it would come up,” Ranma replied in a dry tone. “Um, Shampoo, can you let go…?”

Shampoo pouted but slipped away from Ranma. She moved her arms behind her back, pressing her chest out slightly and began slowly twisting her upper body back and forth. “You’re too busy to talk to me?” she said in Higan, almost accusingly.

“It ain’t that,” Ranma replied tiredly, a hand covering his face. “Shampoo, look, I’m gonna be honest—because, frankly, I need to be. I was never interested in you.”

“I don’t understand a word they’re saying,” Gavial said aside to the Doctor. “But his tone sounds like he’s breaking up with her.”

“More or less,” the Doctor said quietly.

“Never? Not once?” Shampoo asked, eyes widening. “I know better. You think I’m beautiful. Some days you couldn’t take your eyes off me. I know you think I’m sexy, too. Saw that more than a few times. You know I’m strong, skilled, a good warrior wife for you. Not interested? You lie.”

“I’m not lying,” Ranma replied. “You’re beautiful and sexy and a strong warrior, yeah, all of that. But that’s not what I’m interested in. I never saw a future with you.”

“Then who?!” Shampoo snarled. “Akane? Ukyo? Not Kodachi, you treated her like a snake holding poisoned daggers.”

“None of you, alright?” Ranma flinched back at the heat in his own voice, before turning slightly away. “I never saw a future with any of you. The closest was maybe with Akane, taking over the dojo. But that’s obviously not gonna happen now.”

“Then there’s no obstacles! You could be with me,” Shampoo said. Her expression shifted in a familiar, cold smile as she ran her hands slowly over the presented curves of her body. “I would make you very happy.”

“I don’t want you!” Ranma yelled back.

“Challenge him.” Ranma and Shampoo both turned to the Doctor, who had suddenly spoken up. “You’re a warrior in a warrior culture. He’s a warrior. If you want something, challenge him. That’s how it works, right?” he asked, turning to directly face Ranma.

Ranma blinked, taken aback, and glanced back and forth between the Doctor and Shampoo, and nodded. “Technically. The School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts isn’t allowed to refuse a challenge,” he admitted.

“Then, you challenge him,” the Doctor said to Shampoo. “Set fair and reasonable terms or as his employer, I will not permit him to answer the challenge.”

“I want him to accept our marriage! I want him to acknowledge me as his wife!” Shampoo declared.

“Do you accept those terms?” the Doctor asked Ranma.

“Fine,” Ranma spat. “But if I win this, Shampoo, you need to back off. Got it?”

“Understood.” Shampoo turned to Tomimi, beginning to speak in Sargonian again. “I challenge him to a match,” she said, pointing at Ranma. “If I win, he acknowledges me as his wife.”

Tomimi’s eyes widened. “You didn’t say you were married!” she said.

“Never expected it to come up,” Shampoo grumbled as Tomimi hurried away.

“Striker,” the Doctor said in a low voice. “Tactical assessment.”

Ranma dropped in next to the Doctor, speaking in an equally low voice. “Fast. Strong. She’s improved since I last saw her. Not enough,” he said, his tone clipped and short. “I’ll win.”

“Pretty clever, Doctor, taking advantage of her pride to manipulate her into a losing prospect,” Gavial muttered. A trumpeting noise sounded as the latest brawl was cleared away, and a crocodile-like Archosauria stepped onto the combat ring, wearing a gleaming golden headdress. As he began announcing a special exhibition match, Gavial glanced over as Shampoo angrily stalked away. “She won’t thank you for this.”

“That’s alright,” the Doctor said. “It’s important to clear the air anyway.” He reached up, patting Ranma’s shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Ranma muttered sarcastically. “What do I do, Gavial?”

“Just wait. Tomimi probably announced you as from Rhodes Island.”

“In the red corner, Shampoo of Gavial’s Will!” the man with the golden headdress called. Shampoo hopped up into the corner, which had a red tile square demarking it. In her hands, she held a familiar looking pair of steel-headed maces. “And in the blue corner, her long-lost and beloved husband, Ranma Saotome of Rhodes Island!”

“Well, I should have seen that one coming,” the Doctor murmured as Ranma groaned. Despite his misgivings, Ranma walked forward, leaping over the crowd to land on the blue tile opposite Shampoo.

“The contest is simple: should Shampoo prove triumphant, Ranma Saotome will acknowledge Shampoo’s marriage!” the announcer declared. “Should the unthinkable happen and Saotome prove victorious, Shampoo will release him from the obligations of her marriage! But you’ve seen Shampoo in action! I think we can safely say that’s unlikely!”

Bristling at the implied insult, Ranma glared at the announcer. “Just call the start of the match,” he said. “Let’s get this farce over with.”

The announcer blinked, looking suddenly nervous, and backed out from between the two combatants. “Begin!” he called, before jumping off the platform.

Shampoo had always been fast. Apparently, a year in the Sargonian rainforests among the Tiacauh had only improved on that. She lunged forward as a blur, letting out a yell and swinging one of her maces in an overhead blow. The steel head smashed into the tile, sending shards flying everywhere, but missing Ranma as he simply backed away.

“I’m not the weakling you beat so easily in Nyuchiezu, husband!” Shampoo yelled in Sargonian, raising her maces. “I’m a warrior of the Tiacauh tribes!”

“You were the village champion of Nyuchiezu,” Ranma said coldly, slipping his hands out of his pockets. “And I was a stupid kid you underestimated. Now, you’re a warrior of Tiacauh, and I’m an Operator of Rhodes Island.” Shampoo thrust her mace forward at his head, and he leaned aside, catching the handle. “And you’re still underestimating me.”

Shampoo tried to pull her mace back, and her eyes widened as Ranma’s grip refused to budge. Instead, he yanked his hand back, tearing the mace out of her grip. With a casual twirl of his fingers, he held it in its proper grip and thrust forward, slamming it into Shampoo’s stomach and doubling her over with a cough. A swift kick sent the lavender-haired warrior sliding back, and Ranma pitched the mace like a softball, smashing the other weapon out of Shampoo’s hand.

Shampoo gaped over her shoulder in shock as both of her maces went tumbling off the platform, taking a second to look back at Ranma. “You used to hold back,” she said to him as she dropped into a defensive stance.

“Not anymore,” he replied. “Holding back like that here? Got me a hospital stay and pissed off all of my friends.” Suddenly, he snorted, shaking his head. “Is that it? Were you countin’ on me underestimating you and holding back, not catching on to how much you improved before now?”

“A little,” Shampoo admitted.

“Well, not sorry, Shampoo. But maybe this finally gets the message across,” he said. He took a breath and dashed forward. Shampoo’s arms moved in almost slow motion to try to deflect his attacks, but he still felt most of them land—striking several vital points. As she stopped moving, eyes wide, he lowered his hands and stepped back, exhaling.

To his surprise, she smiled at him. “You see? That’s why I love you, airen,” she said. She took an unsteady step, then the light faded from her eyes and she began to topple over backwards. She was unconscious long before she hit the tile.

The spectators were silent, and Ranma let out a breath, lowering his arms. He glared over at the person who had announced the fight, causing the crocodile-man to hurry over to check on Shampoo. “A-Amazing!” the Tiacauh man said. “She’s completely unconscious! Ranma Saotome has emerged victorious over Shampoo!”

Some of the spectators cheered in excitement for the bout. Some jeered at how quickly it had ended—a few of them also jeered at Ranma for defeating Shampoo. Ranma brushed it all off, turning to walk toward the edge of the ring. He would be lying to say he felt good about that fight, but he was also no longer the same person who had first arrived at Rhodes Island.

A grimace made it onto his face as he imagined a tall, broad-shouldered Phidian man with dark wrap-around shades and a thick brown beard. The image of the man, wearing a Rhodes Island elite operator jacket, frowned in Ranma’s mind, and caused Ranma to turn over his shoulder. “Hey!” he yelled to two crocodile-men who were retrieving Shampoo.

“What is it, warrior?” one of them asked.

“When she wakes up, tell her to come see me,” Ranma said, rubbing at the back of his head and letting out a sigh. “I need to talk to her about some things.”

The two attendants nodded, so Ranma turned away. In his mind, the frown turned into a slight, knowing smile as the image of the man nodded. “Dammit, why are you still in my head,” Ranma muttered. “I barely even knew you. We were barely friends.” Crouching slightly and letting his legs flex, Ranma jumped off the ring, landing next to the Doctor and Gavial.

“Hey, nice job,” Gavial said.

The Doctor nodded. “Well done.”

“Do me a favor, Doc. Next time you want to get involved in my personal life, just don’t, please,” Ranma grumbled.

“I think you’ll thank me later,” the Doctor replied. “And so will she.”

“I doubt that.”

“Well, while you were discussing things with your hot wife,” Gavial said, causing Ranma to groan in frustration. “Tomimi and I explained a few things to the Doc.”

“Summarize it in ten words or less,” Ranma replied shortly.

“Gavial’s an orphan, and beat everyone up as a kid,” the Doctor said.

Ranma blinked. “Exactly ten words. Impressive.”

“There’s a lot more to it, but yeah,” Gavial admitted with a shrug. “The point is that—”

“Aha! There you are, traitor!” Ceobe’s voice called from the archway at the wall. Ranma turned to find the dog-eared woman pointing directly at him, ears perked up and tail wagging vigorously. As before, there was still no sign of sanity or reason in her eyes. “You may have escaped me once, former Instructor Saotome, but I won’t be fooled again!”

“Didn’t we tie her up and leave her for your tribe to bring in?” Ranma asked Tomimi.

“Um… Yup, pretty sure that’s what happened, uh-huh.”

“The kid’s pretty strong,” Gavial reasoned, “so she must have broken out and beat everyone up. I guess the mushrooms haven’t worn off yet, either.”

“Now, I will defeat you, and prove myself worthy of your hand in marriage!” Ceobe said.

“Wait, weren’t you just calling me a traitor?” Ranma asked, dropping back into a defensive stance.

“Once I’ve defeated you, you’ll see the error of your ways and come back to the side of righteousness!”

“Give me a break!” Ranma protested. “I just got rid of one, I don’t need another one!”

Ceobe’s answer was to whip out her axe, already glittering with the frost of her Arts. Ranma was given no time to wonder when she could have retrieved it as the Perro girl charged directly at him to swing the weapon. He stepped aside, swinging a cross punch at Ceobe’s face and knocking her back.

Rubbing at her stinging jaw with one hand, Ceobe gave a feral, excited growl and slashed at Ranma with her axe again. Stepping into the arc, Ranma arrested the axe’s movement—barely—by catching the shaft in both hands, lifting his leg to kick at Ceobe’s midsection. The force of the blow slightly doubled Ceobe over, and Ranma kicked again, then again, then again.

Finally, Ceobe released the axe, her eyes practically flashing as she lunged forward. “Moko Kaimon Ha!” she yelled.

“What?!” Ranma responded as the Perro knocked his arms aside with a burst of sudden, brute strength right before her foot slammed into his midsection, sending him careening back from the force. Coughing violently as he halted himself, he wiped at a trickle of blood that he felt from where he’d bitten his lip after the kick. “When the hell did she—?”

“Geimon Tessen Shi!” Ceobe lunged in, her right hand thrusting toward his chest with her fingers splayed like claws. He narrowly turned aside, and her palm struck the wall just behind him instead, obliterating it in a cloud of dust and stone chips. As he tried to fade back from her, she grabbed his shoulder with her free hand, pulling him forward.

“Mmph!” he exclaimed in confusion, eyes wide, as she kissed him on the lips. The kiss only lasted for a moment before she shoved him back with a slightly unhinged giggle.

“Couldn’t help myself but I still have to win to prove myself!” she said. She pulled him forward again, but this time she swung her forehead at him. Stars and blackness danced in Ranma’s vision as her forehead impacted with his; while she didn’t seem to know how to headbutt properly, the pain of the impact still rang in his head as he stumbled back.

“Admit defeat, Traitor Instructor Ranma! Then we’ll ride off into the sunset and eat honey biscuits forever!”

“Like hell!” Ranma snarled as he shook his head clear. “I never lose!” Leaning forward into an aggressive stance, his fists flew at Ceobe at blinding speeds—fast enough to pluck a roasting chestnut from a fire without being burned.

“Dadadada!” Ceobe yelled in reply, her own fists flying at blazing speeds to clash with his. She grinned at him with no hint of rationality in her expression, and he grit his teeth.

Normally, he enjoyed a good fight, but his was getting a bit ridiculous! It was time to change tactics. He broke away from the attack rush and pointed over Ceobe’s shoulder. “Hey, is that Crownslayer swiping all forty honey biscuits?!” he yelled.

“No, that’s all four tens and that’s terrible!” Ceobe said, spinning around in shock.

Ranma whipped out a set of manacles and chains, grabbing Ceobe’s wrist to pull it behind her back and clapping one of the steel manacles over it. He drove himself forward and swept his foot at her ankles, toppling her over with a surprised cry. Not waiting for her to regain what passed for her faculties in the moment, he grabbed her other wrist to clap the other manacle onto.

“He-Hey, how are you, wha-what are you…!” Ceobe cried out, struggling.

Using his hold on her wrists, he pulled her back to bend her like a bow while he unfolded the full length of the chain. Two more manacles were revealed, and he swiftly moved to lock Ceobe’s ankles in the cuffs. “Alright, Kay, time to take you for a spin!” he yelled, grabbing the chain and pulling it taut… while he begin to whirl around in a tight rotation.

To his frustration, instead of any dismay or comfort, she started giggling and whooping. “Wheeee!” she cheered. “This is fun! Faster, faster, Striker!”

For once, I wish that Miracle Sexoffender jackass with the skates were here, Ranma grumbled mentally. He leaned back against the centripedal force he was creating, pulling harder on the chains and beginning to spin faster.

“Yaaay!” Ceobe cheered, oblivious.

“Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts!” he yelled, narrowing his focus to the next step. “Kirenai Kusari!” He suddenly twisted himself around, changing his momentum in an impossible way, and pulled on the chain. Ceobe’s eyes widened as the chain begin wrapping around her torso, leaving her arms firmly bound to her sides.

“Wha?” she protested, straining against the bindings but unable to get any leverage.

Ranma panted lightly as he held the remaining length of chain in his hand. “That’s it, Kay. You’re not goin’ anywhere now,” he said, managing a triumphant smirk.

Ceobe bunny-hopped toward him, eyes wide and face flushed. Ranma’s own triumphant smirk vanished as he tried to back away. “H-Hey, what are you—?”

“You really are amazing, Instructor Striker! No wonder all the girls love you! Well, I won’t give up!” she said, wriggling despite the chains holding her. “I’ll prove I’m the only one worthy of you! You’ll see!”

“Or you’ll wake up from the mushrooms and think this is all just a really bad dream,” Ranma muttered hopefully. “Gavial, can you do something about her?”

“Yeah, we should be able to find something that will knock even her out and let her sleep off the rest of the mushrooms while we’re here,” Gavial muttered, rubbing at the back of her head. “Hey!” she yelled to one of the “Gavial’s Will” bystanders. “Go get one of the shamans and ask for some medicine for the mushrooms!”

“Right away, Gavial!” the crocodile-like man said, hurrying away.

“Guess I’ll just hold onto this for now to make sure she doesn’t get away,” Ranma muttered.

“Yeah, good idea.” Gavial nodded in agreement. “Oh, hey, the guy who was fighting before is back up there.”

“Who else will challenge me?” the Archosauria man yelled, waving his hands.

“I will,” a low, contralto voice called over the din. Hopping into the ring was a woman with black hair and… welding goggles? Ranma blinked again, giving the woman another once over, noting her pointed ears poking out of her hair and a tail that reminded him of an anaconda with its glittering scales. She covered her very feminine form with a yellow worker’s jacket, but the holes in the jacket showed the otherwise skimpy tribal outfit underneath it.

“Zumama,” Gavial murmured. “Guess she decided to show up after all.”

“Your girlfriend?” Ranma hazarded a guess. The back of Gavial’s fist struck his face at the same time Tomimi’s foot came down on top of his. “Ow ow ow ow!” he yelled, clutching his face with his free hand—he dared not let Ceobe go—while hopping around in pain on his good foot. “You know you can answer me with words, right?”

“You wish, Saotome,” Gavial replied. “No, she’s my rival. Has been ever since we were kids. She’s basically the only person back here who could ever keep up with me in a fight.”

“She and Gavial fought to a complete standstill the first time they both entered the competition,” Tomimi explained. “But then Zumama moved away. Supposedly she caught some weird disease and started talking to herself. She’s also started focusing more on the things she builds.”

“Either way, that poor goon up there is probably done for,” Gavial laughed. Sure enough, Zumama showed almost no effort in pulverizing the Tiacauh warrior in the ring despite fighting with her bare hands. “Yep, thought so. Man, she’s as strong as ever! I wanna fight her!”

“You sure she’s not your girlfriend?” Ranma said. This time, he avoided Tomimi’s foot but not Gavial’s medical arts staff as it came crashing down on the top of his head. “Ow!”

“Not everyone gets off on violence like you,” Gavial said airily.

Ranma rubbed at the top of his head, glaring at Gavial. “You do.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Eunectes!” a new voice called from the arena. Two Archosaurian men stood opposite Zumama, brandishing axes. “We challenge you!”

“Oh? Together?” Zumama murmured, looking bored. “Who are you again?”

“Uda, leader of the Raging Flames!”

“Aruna, leader of the Scars!”

“Now, get her!” Uda yelled, pointing with his axe. Instantly, more warriors began pouring into the arena, some wearing red colors not unlike what Uda had, while others had scarred gear like Aruna. They swiftly surrounded Zumama, leaving her trapped in a circle.

“Well, I didn’t expect this to be a walk in the park,” Zumama mused, “but I wasn’t expecting you to have a pact, either.”

“Well, I’m not keen on a Great Chief who spends all her time with tinker toys!” Aruna yelled.

“Wait, is this allowed?” Ranma asked Gavial. “That’s a lotta guys.”

“Oh, yeah, there’s not really any formal rules or structure to the whole thing,” Gavial explained. “You just do whatever it takes to win. Whoever’s left standing at the end of it all is the new Great Chief.”

Ranma began stroking his chin, a sly grin forming on his face. “So, what you’re saying is… anything goes.”

“Denied,” the Doctor said immediately. “If I don’t get to be Great Chief, neither do you.”

“Aw, c’mon, Doc…”

“Ha! You don’t have what it takes, Doctor,” Gavial said. “Hell, most of these folks are pretty simple anyway. Even Striker wouldn’t really fit in that well. The most they can think of is working hard to get stronger or bringing a bunch of guys. They don’t go for dirty tricks or clever strategies.”

“You think I’m that weak?” the Doctor asked in a hurt voice.

“You complained about running for a few kilometers,” Ranma pointed out, “so I’d say, yeah.”

Ignoring the sight of her boss sulking, Gavial put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, at the end of the day, there’s really only one rule. You just have to be strong enough to put up a good fight. You’d just get beat up!” Gavial let out a laugh as the Doctor slumped over with a gloomy aura. “It’s weird, though, I didn’t tag those two as being friends.”

“I don’t think they are,” Tomimi noted. “I think they’re just teaming up because they want to beat Zumama… but it’s not going to work.”

“Hey, weren’t you going to fight, too, Tomimi?” Gavial asked.

“Y-Yes, but I’m going to wait for her to exhaust herself on the Scars and the Flames.” Tomimi rubbed at the back of her head. “I’m in no rush.”

“That’s smart. And didn’t you say Zumama is the leader of the Eunectes tribe? Where’s the rest of her tribe?”

“Oh! You’re right, I don’t see a lot of her tribe here today.” Tomimi looked around, then pointed at a group of Archosauria wearing yellow coats and holding spears and axes that looked to be of a higher quality than the others. “I think those guys over there, the ones who are dressed different, are from her tribe.”

“Not a whole lot of ‘em,” Gavial muttered. “Weird.”

Ranma gave a low whistle as he looked up at the arena. Despite fighting bare-handed against weapon users, Zumama had already reduced the numbers against her by a tenth. “She’s pretty good. Are you sure I’m not allowed to fight her?” Ranma said.

“Positive,” the Doctor replied. “In fact, if she ever finds herself aboard Rhodes Island, consider her to be on Kal’tsit’s banned list.”

“Banned list?” Tomimi asked. Gavial burst out laughing before she could answer.

“There are a list of personnel who Ranma is banned from sparring while aboard Rhodes Island,” the Doctor explained. “At special insistence, they must find transport to a remote location nearby, lest they severely damage the landship. He has a terrible habit of forgetting to restrain himself when fighting strong opponents… and a terrible proclivity for drawing a similar attitude from those same opponents.”

“Did you have to put it in the worst possible light?” Ranma asked with a sigh. “I just like a good fight. What’s wrong with that?”

“I think it’s pretty cool!” Tomimi said, patting Ranma’s arm. “You’re just like Gavial! Isn’t that right?”

There was no answer, and everyone—including the still-bound Ceobe—turned to where Gavial had been standing. The space was so completely empty that there almost appeared to be a blinking outline with an arrow pointing at it to indicate, “Gavial was here.”

“Hey! Look there!” a voice called from the crowd.

“I saw her coming in! It can’t be—!” a second voice exclaimed.

“She’s back!”

Zumama, standing over the mostly defeated masses of the tribe who had attacked her, turned in surprise, hearing the commotion. “You!” she exclaimed in surprise.

Gavial simply grinned at her rival as the crowd cheered her name. “That’s right. After seeing how strong you got, I just couldn’t help myself,” she said, cracking her knuckles as her tail whipped around behind her. “Watching you really got my blood pumping, Zumama! Or should I call you ‘leader of Eunectes’ now?”

“Call her your girlfriend,” Ranma yelled over the heads of the crowd. Without missing a beat, Gavial retrieved a chunk of the arena’s tile floor to throw at him, which he deflected with a cheeky grin.

Ignoring Ranma, Zumama addressed Gavial directly, speaking in Sargonian. “You’re actually back, Gavial…”

“The little brat running my old tribe sent me a letter asking. So, you speak Sargonian now?”

“You’re speaking it, too,” Zumama replied. “It must be what everyone speaks on the outside.”

“It’s not the only language out there, but it’s pretty common,” Gavial replied, beginning to roll her shoulders and stretch out.

“I didn’t think you planned to come back.”

“I’m not really back, I still have too many things to finish on the outside,” Gavial explained. “Someday, I’ll come back for real, though. This is my home, after all.”

“So, you have no intention of becoming the Great Chief,” Zumama replied with a sigh.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but, no. I actually need you for something else completely,” Gavial said, straightening out and grinning. “But after seeing how badass you are now, how was I supposed to hold back from fighting you?”

Zumama turned to completely face Gavial, who charged at her. Completely forgotten and ignored were Uda, Aruna, and their tribes—but those who could still move hastily began dragging their unconscious comrades out of the way with outcries of fear.

Gavial’s fist slammed into Zumama’s open palm and the arena floor cracked underneath them. Zumama’s fist blazed into Gavial’s unprotected stomach, and Gavial threw her forehead forward, striking the bridge of Zumama’s nose. With a snarl of pain and irritation, Zumama retaliated with a headbutt of her own, smashing her forehead into Gavial’s face just under her nose.

Gavial stumbled back with her own yell, and Zumama leapt forward, driving both feet at Gavial’s face. Gavial only just managed to block the lunging dropkick, which still toppled her off her feet and to the tile floor. The Phidian Zumama then leapt up into the air with a yell, flying down at Gavial with another kick. Gavial narrowly rolled away as Zumama’s foot crashed into the arena.

“Wait a second,” Ranma muttered, narrowing his eyes.

“What is it?” Tomimi asked.

Gavial jumped to her feet in a reasonable imitation of a kip up, moving forward to engage Zumama in close range again. The pair exchanged a quick but furious flurry of jabs and feints, only scoring a few, glancing hits before Gavial threw herself forward, slamming her shoulder into Zumama. Instead of stumbling from the force, Zumama wrapped her arms around Gavial with crushing strength and bent backwards with a yell, slamming Gavial’s upper body into the arena.

“Those moves…!” Ranma muttered.

“What about them?” the Doctor asked.

“Where the hell did she learn—” Ranma began.

Gavial popped out of the tile with a snarl, shaking dust free from her hair. She was still largely unhurt but looked incredibly annoyed. “Hey, Saotome!” she yelled to Ranma. “Where did she learn your moves from, huh?!”

“They’re not my moves!” Ranma yelled back. “Those are Nyuchiezu wu shu, I just happened to learn and use ‘em! A hundred LMD says she learned ‘em from Shampoo!”

Gavial’s tail lashed at the tile under her, further cracking it as she glared at Zumama. The Phidian woman, however, seemed unfazed, speaking up. “You’re really a doctor now?” she asked.

“Huh? Yeah, actually, kinda famous one, too,” Gavial said, anger fading away to confusion. A sudden laugh completely broke her expression and she pointed to Ranma. “In fact, you see that idiot with the braided rat-tail hairdo over there? Believe it or not, I’m his personal physician.”

“Amazing,” Zumama murmured.

“Yeah, what about you? You missed the last of these ceremonies, I heard. Something you’re working on?”

“Yeah… in fact, it’s just about done,” Zumama replied. “You’ll get to see it very soon.”

As the two lunged forward to resume the exchange of blows, Tomimi stomped her foot, pouting. “D-Didn’t she say she wasn’t going to fight Eunectes?” the small girl grumbled.

“It’s Gavial,” Ranma replied dryly. “Showing her a strong opponent she could be exchanging blows with is like dangling meat in front of her.”

“You can’t be surprised,” the Doctor added.

“I… I guess,” Tomimi admitted.

In the ring, Gavial was pressing a swift attack on Zumama, weaving and dodging between blows rather than soaking them up and delivering punishing counterattacks. Between the two, while neither were showing and serious injury, Zumama was definitely starting to breathe more heavily as she retreated from Gavial’s attacks. Sensing the tide of the fight, the crowds began to cheer for Gavial.

“You’re even stronger than I remember,” the Phidian woman said between gasps for air. “Since when are you so quick and skilled?”

“It comes from fighting Saotome all the time,” Gavial said, grinning. “He’s probably the most skilled fighter we have at Rhodes Island, and he’s an instructor now between missions. You can’t use just brute strength when you fight him or you’ll lose—that’s a free tip, by the way. I bet he’s itching to fight you after seeing you in action here.”

“That makes sense… Shampoo, that girl who joined your tribe, she’s taught me a few things, too, just like he suspected,” Zumama admitted. “However, we can’t rely on our fists forever. You can do so many things with them, you don’t even think of using anything else.”

“Huh? What are you saying, Zumama?”

“I’m saying,” Zumama said, taking a deep breath and straightening, “that it’s time for change, Gavial.”

In the distant jungle, yet close and loud enough to drown out the cheers of the crowd, a thunderous yet uniform roar rang out. The ground shook under a powerful impact, as if something colossal were approaching the temple grounds. Onlookers began looking around and yelling in alarm as the ground continued to shake, and Ranma saw even the massive trees in the distance shaking as something enormous passed through them.

When some trees started toppling, he began to get worried.

“You’re very strong, Gavial,” Zumama said, tilting her head back and looking down her nose at her opponent. “I can’t deny that. You’ve forced my hand—I didn’t want to use this until after I took the throne, but now I have to play my trump card now again you.” She let out a short laugh, lowering her head. “It doesn’t matter. In the end, it’s the same—this will bring about the change I seek.”

“I have no idea what you’re on about,” Gavial said suspiciously, “but I won’t go down that easy!”

“Yes, you will,” Zumama said. She raised a hand to cover her ear. “High Priest. Aim… and fire!”

A massive machine, almost bipedal but walking on huge vehicular treads, lumbered into view at the edge of the rainforest. It had two arms, one ending in a gathering of spiked piles and the other resembling an enormous sawblade, but jutting out the mouth of its dragon-like head was a massive cannon. Machinery whirred and squealed as the cannon adjusted its aim and fired, blasting a huge chunk out of the temple building.

“What the hell is that?!” Gavial yelled in alarm, flinching back from the attack. The other spectators were yelling in alarm or fear, and even Ranma’s jaw hung open in shock at the sight.

“Just like I told you,” Zumama said. “We have no future relying just on our fists. I never really intended to use it on you, but now you can see… starting now, it’s the age of machines.” She covered her ear again. “Correct your aim, High Priest. You get one more shot. Fire!”

The next shot struck Gavial directly, knocking her completely off the platform. “Gavial!” Ranma yelled, shoving Ceobe’s chain into the Doctor’s hands and running through the crowd to where the medic landed. Gavial’s shirt was torn open where the cannon had hit, and she was starting to bleed, though the injuries miraculously did not seem serious. She was, however, unconscious.

“I win,” Zumama declared from the ring, and Ranma glared up at her. “Do you wish to be next, Saotome?”

“Striker, stand down,” the Doctor’s voice sounded from the radio earpiece Ranma still habitually wore. “Provide medical attention to Gavial. This is purely a tribal matter and does not need our involvement.”

Ranma grit his teeth, his instincts to flatten the person who had the gall to challenge him clashing with the loyalty and obedience the Doctor had earned. Finally, he simply pointed at Zumama, then jerked his fist toward his throat, thumb extended, before turning away. He slipped a hand up his sleeve to retrieve a medical kit, then knelt next to Gavial to administer first aid.

Gavial regained consciousness partway through the treatment, being held upright by Tomimi for him to bandage her wounds. She hissed in pain as he pulled the first bandage tight. “Ow ow ow, that stings!” she worked out through grit teeth.

“Hold still. I’m still administering treatment,” Ranma said. He retrieved another wad of gauze from the kit and another bandage. “Sit up.”

“You’re like a crabby mother hen, you know that? I’m fine,” Gavial muttered, but did sit up so Ranma could bandage her injuries. “That giant machine, is that the thing Zumama’s been working on all this time?”

“Yes,” Tomimi said from behind Ranma. “I’ve heard some people call it the ‘Big, Ugly Thing.’ It’s so gross.”

“I think it’s pretty cool!” Gavial said. She winced as Ranma pulled one of her bandages tight. “Hey, hey, not so tight, Striker, you know better!”

“Just reminding you that ‘pretty cool’ thing kicked your ass,” he replied.

“Oh, Ranma, you’re back, cool,” Gavial said, looking down. “Not bad work, I guess. Maybe you should join our field corps, get some real medical training in.”

“You just want an excuse to hit me some more,” Ranma said with a snort, closing his treatment kit and slipping it back up his sleeve. “I thought it through—obviously Eunectes up there would know how tough you are and that you could take a shot from a cannon like that without being seriously wounded.”

“Yeah, she’s kind of a genius like that. Imagine her working together with Closure!”

“Closure would take one look at that ugly thing and go into apoplexy,” Ranma said. He stood up, offering a hand to Gavial and pulling her to her feet.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Gavial rolled her neck back and forth. “Hey, what happened to the temple?”

“Zumama destroyed it with her big ugly thing,” Tomimi explained. “Striker didn’t care, he was too busy patching you up, but she also gave a speech about how you can only do so much with your fists and stuff.”

“So I guess she’s the Great Chief now, huh? Guess that’s a loss for me,” Gavial muttered with a chuckle.

“You’re oddly accepting of it,” the Doctor noted.

“A loss is a loss,” Gavial said, shrugging. “No point getting worked up over it. Maybe next time I’ll win. Sorry, Tomimi, guess I cost you your chance to fight her.”

“No, it’s alright,” Tomimi insisted. “If you lost to that thing, there’s no way I would have stood a chance. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Fair enough.” Gavial turned to the Doctor. “So, what now, Doctor?”

“We need to get the engine back,” the Doctor replied. “I don’t want to be maimed by Kal’tsit.”

“Ah, right, and we also need to find the others. Alright.” Gavial nodded. She turned at the sound of some commotion. “Hey, what’s going on over there?”

Ranma cocked his head to the side, following Gavial. Two Archosaurian men were talking, and one appeared unsteady on his feet. “Yota, you okay?” one of the men asked.

“I’m fine… kinda… urgh…” Yota began to wobble even more. Ranma crossed the distance in a flash, catching Yota before he could fall over.

“Easy there,” Ranma said. “Hey, Gavial!”

“Coming now! Tomimi, get my medic bag!” Gavial yelled, running over. “Lay him down on the ground, let’s take a look.”

Ranma began to lower Yota to the ground. He held a hand out to keep the other Archosauria back as Gavial leaned in to examine Yota. “Is he gonna be alright?” the first man asked.

“He’s not dead, but it doesn’t look good either,” Gavial said, frowning. She glanced up at Ranma. “Symptoms.”

“Shortness of breath,” Ranma said and Gavial nodded for him to continue. He glanced at the flecks of red foam at Yota’s mouth. “Foaming, bloody spittle.” His hands brushed over the fallen Yota’s frame. “Originium crystals. Oripathy attack.”

“Good call. Heart failure due to an onset of Oripathy,” Gavial said. She turned to the other Archosauria. “He’s your brother?” At the man’s nod, she motioned Ranma back. “Stand him up. It’s Stone Disease. We need to get him on his feet and I’ll give him some oxygen. Striker, start administering the emergency medication.”

Ranma reached into his Rhodes Island jacket, pulling out a small, rectangular box. The container was steel and about twice as wide and long as a deck of playing cards, though not much taller. Deftly, he popped open the clamshell hinge on the box, setting it down, then pulled out a vial and syringe.

“Hey, what are you gonna stick him with?” Yota’s brother asked, holding Yota upright.

“It’s alright, Striker’s one of our field experts in Oripathy—Stone Disease,” Gavial said as Tomimi approached with her medic bag. As Ranma began drawing a light blue liquid from the vial with the syringe, Gavial began pulling things from her bag. “The medicine will help by halting the growth of the crystals in his body and stimulating his heart.”

“It’s could be a little ugly. It can sometimes cause muscle spasms,” Ranma said, returning the vial to his field kit. “Hold him tightly.” As Yota’s brother tightened his grip, Ranma stood, carefully inserting the needle into Yota’s arm and depressing the plunger. “Where’s that oxygen, Gavial?”

“Got it here!” Gavial said, pulling a metal canister and a length of plastic tubing from her bag. “Had to get one to fit his face,” she added to Ranma, inserting some of the tubing into Yota’s nostrils before twisting open the valve on the canister. “What’s your name?” she asked Yota’s brother.

“Yogi.”

“And what tribe are you in?”

“Eunectes.”

Ranma, who had been dropping the needle from his syringe into a biohazard container on his field kit, looked up at that. He set the needleless syringe back into the case and closed it, slipping it back into his jacket. “That’s a scary face, Gavial,” he noted quietly.

Gavial took a deep breath, smoothing out the furious expression that had formed on her face. “Did Zumama send you into the mines for ore for that big mechanical monster of hers?” she asked in a level voice.

“Yes, why?” Yogi asked, still holding his brother.

Gavial let out an explosive sigh—as well as a few Yanese curses. She handed the oxygen bottle to Yogi in lieu of an answer. “Tomimi, take him back to your tribe,” she said over her shoulder. “Lancet-2 will need to give him a look over. Yogi, if he wakes up and starts expressing trouble breathing, turn this nozzle.” She demonstrated how to open or close the nozzle on the bottle. “Lancet can get more medical supplies from the plane if needed. Doctor, I need to talk to Zumama, for real this time.”

“About the Stone Disease in the mines,” the Doctor replied.

“Nothing gets past you, huh,” Gavial muttered. “I know, we’re just some primitive backwater compared to the rest of the world. But there’s one good thing about this place—we don’t discriminate about Oripathy, or Stone Disease as we call it. People die from all sorts of things all the time here, so nobody thinks anything of it. All they really know is that you can catch it in the mines.”

Ranma snapped his fingers. “Then, you must’ve…” Gavial nodded.

“She got it saving me,” Tomimi said sadly, moving over to Yogi’s and Yota’s side. “I went into the mines… deep in. She went in to rescue me. I didn’t get sick… but she did. If only I had…”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Gavial exclaimed. “Oripathy is awful, even an uninfected like Saotome knows it. None of us would wish it even on our worst enemy. It was just my bad luck.”

“Yet, you were ostracized,” the Doctor noted.

“Yeah, well, it’s not what you think. They just wouldn’t let me do anything. They coddled me and treated me like an invalid,” Gavial said. “They wouldn’t even let me join the ceremony, like I had turned weak and helpless. Can you imagine?”

“Surprised you were able to tolerate it for more than a day,” Ranma muttered.

“Well, I was so ticked off that I went anyway.” Gavial’s tail lashed out behind her. “And I beat the tar out of everyone who got in my way.”

“I suppose it’s a matter of perspective,” the Doctor said, crossing his arms. “It’s awful for a person like you, Gavial. But on the outside, the Infected have no such leniency. Rhodes Island is the exception… and very far from the rule.”

“I figured you’d get it.” Gavial nodded. “Anyway, we got off topic. Zumama’s giant metal monster—if they’re getting the ore from the mines, and she’s sending her people down in there, we gotta put a stop to it. It would be one thing if they were digging around the surface, but going down where there’s raw Originium without protection? Not on my watch.”

“You have our full support,” the Doctor said.

“Dibs,” Ranma said bluntly.

“In your dreams, Saotome.” Gavial grinned at him. “Thanks, Doctor. If she’s throwing away her people’s lives, she deserves a clobbering, regardless of this ‘age of machines’ crap.”

“Hey, Gavial, I don’t care about your hopes and dreams on this,” Yogi said. “What’s going on with my brother?”

“Your brother should be fine once Tomimi gets him to her tribe,” Gavial said. “We have another medic there who can stabilize him and administer further treatment. I need a favor from you, though.”

Yogi straightened his back, standing proudly. “For Gavial, and for the people who are saving my brother, anything.”

“Take a message to Zumama. Tell her we need to have a talk.”

Tomimi moved over to help prop up Yota. “You go, I’ll make sure he gets to my tribe,” she said to Yogi.

“Not coming with us?” Gavial asked.

“I… have a few things I need to do,” Tomimi replied. “I’ll catch up! We can meet at the great waterfall!”

“Alright, at the waterfall then,” Gavial said, turning away from Yota and Tomimi. “Let’s get going.”

Ranma took Ceobe’s chain from the Doctor, idly noting that the mushroom-influenced girl had half fallen asleep. “Think we can treat her when we get there?” he asked, slinging Ceobe onto his shoulder.

“Good idea. Let’s move out!”

Walking through the rainforest was just as unentertaining as Ranma remembered it. “It is really humid,” he grumbled, wiping at his brow but knowing it was a futile effort. His forehead was damp with sweat as soon as he cleared it.

“Yeah, and the footing’s getting a lot worse,” Gavial admitted. “Doctor, careful not to trip.”

“I’m fine,” the Doctor said raggedly.

“There’s a tribe up ahead,” Gavial said. “We’ll take a break there.”

“Hooray,” Ceobe said from her chain prison, panting and tongue lolling out of her mouth. Her ears laid almost flat on her head, the fur on them and her tail poofing slightly. “Need water.”

“Are you coherent yet?” Gavial asked conversationally. Ranma simply picked up the Perro by her chains.

“How should I know?”

“Do you still want to marry Saotome there?”

“Uh-uh! He was mean to me and tried to steal all my honey biscuits!”

“That’s a no then,” Gavial said. “Hey! Inam!”

The party came to a stop at the edge of what looked like a pop-up market. The Doctor gratefully took a seat as a dark-skinned Liberi woman, her white hair and feather-like appendages on her head serving as a stark contrast, looked up. She seemed to be in decent shape, though she wore some fairly ragged clothing.

“Gavial? You recover fast,” she said, and Ranma presumed her to be Inam. “Last I heard, you fought Zumama at the ceremony and she kicked your ass.”

“News travels fast. I guess Tomimi wasn’t pulling my leg about you being a tribal leader, huh?”

Inam rolled her pale blue eyes. “Not my choice. What am I supposed to do if they want to follow me, though?”

“Sure. Hey, Doctor, this is the other tribal leader Tomimi mentioned, Inam.”

The Doctor raised a hand in a half-wave. “Wassup?”

“Yo!” Inam replied cheerfully, waving a hand. “You have a pretty cheerful friend, Gavial. Just like you.”

“So, since when do you know Sargonian?” Gavial asked, crossing her arms.

“A while now,” Inam replied. “I’m the Messenger around these parts.”

“Really? Since when?”

“Since always.” It was Inam’s turn to cross her arms as she raised an eyebrow at Gavial. “You know this area is still, technically, Sargon territory. You don’t think they’re ignorant to all the goings-on?”

Gavial blinked. “Aren’t they, though?”

“Of course not!” Inam scoffed. She turned to the Doctor and Ranma for a moment. “A couple hundred years ago, this used to be a mining colony. Of course, they left it all behind after the Catastrophe. Everyone who was left behind or came back were the ancestors of the people who live here now.”

“A rather rich history,” the Doctor noted in an interested tone.

“Well, the higher-ups in Sargon are thinking about coming back with their mobile cities. It’s been about ten years that they’ve been thinking about it, but they want the mine back, I hear.”

“Ten years ago,” Gavial murmured. “That tracks. Zumama and I saw one of their mobile cities then; that’s about when she started acting weird, too.”

“Yeah. I guess, since then, they’ve figured out that the mine isn’t really worth much,” Inam continued. “And if they did park a city out here, it would be pretty far from the rest of their territories. Anyway, they sent me out here when I became a Messenger, and that was… I don’t even know how long ago. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Oh,” Gavial mused.

“This is why I don’t want to talk about it.” Inam rolled her eyes. “Can’t you even pretend to be interested?”

“Nope,” Gavial replied immediately.

“Bureaucracy is boring,” Ranma said.

“I’m still thirsty,” Ceobe said. Ranma promptly uncapped a bottle of water to help her drink.

“I was interested, but we do have fairly pressing business,” the Doctor admitted.

“Anyway, I have a pretty boring job as a messenger. We’re so cut off here that it’s ridiculous. Nobody ever has any mail to send out. You’re the only one who’s even tried staying in contact since leaving, Gavial. I turned to trade and marketing just to have something to do.”

“Well, you certainly fit right in,” Gavial said. “And as everyone’s favorite merchant, you might help us solve that pressing business. First question: What was AUS doing here? Did you bring them?”

“No, they just showed up one day,” Inam said. “I don’t have that kind of pull to begin with. I was probably more surprised than anyone to see them, and just acted as their interpreter while they were here. But, hey, perfect timing!” Inam held up a square package with the four members of Alive Until Sunset on the front. Named were signed on the package as well: Aya over the woman with long pink hair, Frost over the black haired guitarist, Alty over the other guitarist with short blonde hair, and Dan over the short-haired blonde drummer in the back.

“Whoa, signed album,” Ranma mused.

“As a new customer, I’ll sell it to you for 1500 dinar,” Inam said immediately.

“That won’t work, Saotome never even heard of—”

“Sold!” Ranma replied, fishing out his wallet. “What’s that in LMD?”

As Inam and Ranma made the exchange of currency, Gavial rolled her eyes. “Hey, Saotome, I thought you never heard of AUS before?”

“I haven’t, but their music is pretty good and they look cool on this album cover,” Ranma said. “Maybe Canta-chan will like ‘em, too.”

Gavial sighed. “Fair enough,” she said. “Anyway, Inam, we’re on our way to Zumama’s, so that’s the second thing—we wanted to stop in and resupply here too.”

“The market is always open to you, Gavial. We can barter or just exchange cold, hard cash.” Inam snapped her fingers as if suddenly realizing something. “Oh, yeah. I was hoping to run into you, too. Do you know someone named Croissant?”

“Huh? Yeah, she’s with us,” Gavial said. “Is she here?”

Silently, Inam simply pointed further in toward the market. Ranma blinked, turning as he slipped the AUS record up his sleeve. At the far end of the market, near a corner stall, a familiar figure stood. Around Ranma’s height, she had a shield and a massive warhammer strapped to her back, and curled bull-like horns peeked out her short, bright orange hair.

“That’s Croissant, alright,” Ranma said as he started walking Ceobe over. Gavial, the Doctor, and Inam walked with him. As he approached, he saw the Minos woman apparently engaged in a spate of hard bargaining—she motioned to a lump of metallic ore in the market stall, then pointed to a seashell she was holding. The Archosaurian merchant shook his head.

Croissant frowned, reaching into the pocket of her shorts to pull out a shiny rock, pointing to it and the seashell together and again motioning at the ore. After a moment of contemplation, this time, the merchant nodded, holding out the ore and exchanging it for the seashell and rock. Croissant’s expression lit up like the sun as she took the ore, turning around with a triumphant whoop.

“Now that’s some primo ore awright!” she exulted, then looked up. “Oh, hey! Baws! And ya brought the others! I was startin’ to wonder if I’d ever see ya’ll again!”

“Good to see you’re alright, Croissant. You can talk with the people here?” the Doctor asked.

“Sure ‘nuff can’t!” Croissant replied with a grin. “But who needs to talk t’ bargain? Trade and barter is a universal language!”

“I came across her a couple days ago,” Inam noted. “Obviously, she’s not from around here, but she certainly knows how to do business!”

“So I see,” Gavial replied dryly. “Croissant, have you run into anyone else?”

“Nuh-uh. And Inam ain’t heard anything neither.”

“Well, we’re still doing better than we were an hour ago,” Ranma said with a shrug. “All we’re missing now is Blaze and Utage, right? Blaze is probably fine—I bet she did more damage to the ground with her landing than she took. But I dunno about Utage.”

“Inam! Trouble!” a green-mottled Archosaurian man said as he came running up. “There’s a tribe heading this way at a full run! The Great Woods!”

“Are they out of their minds?” Inam said, drawing up with a grimace.

“I dunno, but they’re being led by some freak with a sword!”

“‘Freak with a sword,’” Ranma parroted.

“Oh, dagnabbit, it’s gotta be Utage!” Croissant exclaimed.

“Is she with you? Tch, either way, we have to deal with this. All of you, with me!” Inam said, running back with the lookout toward the village wall. Naturally, the Rhodes Island contingent followed, with Ranma carrying Ceobe on one shoulder. Sure enough, when they arrived at the wall, they saw a small army of Archosaurian warriors armed with a variety of weapons.

At the head of it and waving her sword like a banner was Utage, just as expected. The purple-eyed blonde with almost tiger-like ears was cheering loudly. “C’mon guys, let’s go!” she hollered. “Well, it’s not like any of you understand me anyway, but this is fun, so show ‘em what we’ve got!”

“Utage, are you out of your mind?” Gavial yelled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh! Hey, you guys!” Utage said, waving cheerfully. “Heya!”

“Nobody’s saying ‘heya’ here, Utage!” Ranma yelled. “You’re attacking this village! And where did you get an army?”

“Oh, wait, is this Gavial’s hometown? Shoot, I’m sorry, I’ll knock it off.”

The Archiosaurian army, bearing shields that had forests painted on them, advanced despite Utage’s words. Croissant whipped her shield and warhammer off her back, brandishing them in response. “Hey, can ya call off these fellers, too?”

“Well,” Utage replied nervously, scratching at her cheek, “unfortunately, they don’t understand a word I say…”

“Forget it, let’s just knock these idiots down,” Ranma replied. “Any objections, Doc?”

“None. Just try not to injure them too badly.”

“That’s up to them,” Gavial said. “Alright, let’s go!”

The Rhodes Island crew charged forward into the Great Woods tribe, crashing together like thunder. Ranma evaded a dozen spears all trying to make a home in his belly, his fists flashing back lightning-quick to knock their wielders unconscious. Croissant’s warhammer smashed shield and body alike, sending waves of the Tiacauh warriors flying. Gavial wielded her Arts staff like a club when she wasn’t beating her opponents down with her bare hands.

All throughout the carnage, Utage alternated between cheering on the tribal warriors who had accompanied her and cheering for her companions at Rhodes Island. She made a sad sound as Ranma delivered a snapkick into the jaw of the last of the Great Woods, sending him into unconsciousness. “Too bad, guess they weren’t any match for you guys,” she said. “Still, that was pretty fun to watch!”

Gavial’s fingers flexed as she reached toward Utage, but Ranma’s hand on her shoulder stopped her. “No, Gavial,” he said. “It wouldn’t be right. Besides,” he added, as Utage sighed with relief, “I get dibs.”

Utage swiftly ducked behind the Doctor. “H-Hey, no harm, no foul, right? Besides, you guys like fighting, so it’s fine!”

“It’s alright, we’ll just dock her paid time,” the Doctor said to Ranma and Gavial. Ranma crossed his arms to consider it, then shared a nod with Gavial.

“W-Wait, that’s not fair,” Utage protested.

“Would you prefer I let them extract their pound of flesh directly?”

Utage sighed miserably. “No…”

“How’d ya even get that lot t’ follow ya if’n ya don’t even speak the same language?” Croissant asked.

“Oh, I… I dunno, actually,” Utage admitted. “I was kinda pissed because my nails were ruined, and I lost my nail kit, and they kept jumping me. Eventually, I beat up so many of them and they just started worshipping the ground I walked on.”

“And so you decided to go attack a village for the heck of it,” Gavial said with a sigh. “Yeah, that sounds like you. You’re almost a wild animal.”

“They must have mistaken you for a wild animal,” Inam suggested. “An exotic one. Nobody here looks like you.”

“How can you mistake a cutie like me for an animal?” Utage asked, crossing her arms with a glare.

“I didn’t say it was a reasonable conclusion,” Inam replied. “That said, they follow you because you defeated their chief. So you’re the new chief of their tribe.” She pointed to one of the battered warriors with a red headdress. “See, I asked him. That’s what happens when you’re strong enough around here.”

“H-Huh? Wait, no, I thought they were just following me around for fun,” Utage said with a whimper, her fists bunching up under her chin. “Doctor, what should I do?”

“This is a good opportunity to learn,” the Doctor replied. “You should stick around and lead them.”

“N-Nooo,” Utage whined. “Life without TV and air conditioning? Kill me now…”

“Guess we just need to find Blaze now,” Ranma muttered. “She’s probably fine, though. Can’t imagine much of anything, even that ugly mecha thing, slowing her down.”

“Sure ‘nuff,” Croissant replied, grinning. “So, hey, Baws, what’s the plan, anyhow? We gonna head fer the Temple and that ceremony Gavial was talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Oh, right, you guys haven’t heard yet,” Gavial said, blinking. “Well, Doctor, why don’t you get them up to speed?”

Ranma took the opportunity of the Doctor explaining things to start to untie Ceobe. The Perro girl was still a bit frisky, in his opinion, but she no longer looked like she was seeing sounds and hearing scents. She wriggled slightly as he freed her, but eagerly accepted a ration bar and another bottle of water.

“The ceremony’s already over?” Utage moaned. “What did I even come here for, then? Well, whatever, not like I even care. But Gavial, I thought you said this place was a primo vacation spot!”

“What, you don’t like it here?” Gavial asked.

“I do, but it doesn’t exactly scream vacation! You know, beaches, oceans, swimsuits, parasols, ice cream! I’ve been wearing my swimsuit under my outfit since we got here!”

“Well, there’s a huge waterfall on the way to where we’re headed,” Gavial said, “so you can play in the water there. Hell, I brought my swimsuit, too. I just haven’t pulled it out yet.”

“Well, I was only taggin’ along on accountin’ of not havin’ anything better t’ do,” Croissant said. “But it sounds like we’re headed to this Zumama’s place to get the engine back, yeah?”

“Darn tootin’,” Ranma quipped. “Hey, Inam, do you have anything to counter the hallucinogenic mushrooms out there?”

“500 dinar,” Inam replied immediately.

Ranma rolled his eyes, pulling out another wad of cash to hand over. “Drink this, Kay,” he said as Inam handed him a small bottle. “It’s like dealin’ with Nabiki…”

“Really? Nabiki seemed pretty nice,” Gavial said.

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her on Earth,” Ranma said as he made sure Ceobe drank every last drop.

“Yuck!” Ceobe said of the substance. “That was gross! I’m already starting to feel better but gross!”

“By the way, Gavial, where’s Tomimi? Wasn’t she with you?” Inam asked.

Gavial shrugged, her tail writhing behind her. “She had something to do, she said. We’ll group up with her later.”

“In that case, can you bring these books to her when you see her?” Inam said, holding out a small stack of books.

“City Beauty, How to Master Corporate Management in 100 Days, Becoming a Fashion Expert,” Gavial read the titles aloud. “What the heck kinda stuff is she into?”

“She’s been trying to learn Sargonian to be more like you,” Inam said pointedly. “And to also learn what the outside world is like. Ever since I taught her the basics, she’s been learning Sargonian one letter and one word at a time.”

“I know, but she needs to find her own way, not just follow mine,” Gavial said, crossing her arms. “Hey, what about Zumama? Did you teach her, too?”

“No, that’s the curious thing,” Inam said. “I’m not sure where she picked up the language, and she’s been teaching her tribe to speak it, too. But she’s been buying a lot of books on machinery and technology from me.”

“Weird… Doctor, what do you think?”

The Doctor picked up a glittering, iridescent rock from Inam’s counter. “How much for this rock?” he asked.

“300 dinar, because you’re a new customer,” Inam responded immediately.

As the Doctor handed over the funds, Gavial sighed. “Well, that’s the face of a Doctor who just doesn’t care.”

“Ain’t like there’s somethin’ wrong with ‘er teachin’ folks Sargonian,” Croissant said, putting her hands on her hips. “If’n folks could talk to people here, I bet they’d live a lot better.”

“Maybe, but I think compared to your supposedly ‘better lives,’ life here is pretty satisfying,” Inam noted.

“I get it,” Utage said. “I used to live in the countryside back in Higashi. I just like trendy stuff.”

“Pops and I lived on the road for about twelve years,” Ranma said. “It was pretty nice not bein’ tied down anywhere.”

Inam yawned. “Well, glad to see people get it,” she said, smacking her lips tiredly. “I’m gonna take a nap. If you see anything out in the open, it’s probably up for trade, so feel free to have Gavial translate for you.”

“One moment,” the Doctor said, moving over to Inam again. “I have one more favor to ask,” he said in a low voice.

“How’s it look, High Priest?” Zumama asked.

A bird that barely reached Zumama’s knees saluted with a bright blue wing. Under his huge eyes and beak, his blue plumage had a fringe of yellow. “Yes, ma’am, reporting that I was nearly blown out of the thing when I fired the main cannon!” he said. “It’s astoundingly loud!”

“I’m talking about the Big, Ugly Thing,” Zumama said in a slightly irritated voice.

“Well, I was reporting my personal situation,” the bird replied, “but it’s essentially what we expected. Firing the cannon in rapid succession like that to destroy the temple caused it to overheat. It was very effective to be sure! But we’ll need to fix it up when we get back.”

“I would have preferred to wait on unveiling it,” Zumama admitted, “but the other tribes wanted to hurry ahead with the ceremony.”

The High Priest crowed with raucous laughter. “Well, luckily, it all worked out! Everyone was in awe or fear of your power! The age of machines has truly begun! Though, what do we think of workshopping the name? Such as ‘the Age of the Big Ugly?’ Or maybe ‘the Age of the High Priest?’ I rather like that one myself.”

“We’ll stick with ‘the age of machines,’” Zumama said in a short tone.

“Bah, you’re still so far behind the times,” the High Priest said, ruffling his feathers. “Now that you’ve had a peek of the outside world, you should try to expand your horizons! Like my outfit.” In one wing, the blue bird held up a tiny gold-and-white robe. “What do you think?”

“You’re too short, I can barely see it,” Zumama replied bluntly. “And I don’t even know what ‘trendy’ means.”

The High Priest sighed, shaking his head. “Forget I said anything. I’ll pick out clothes worthy of our new Great Chief.”

Zumama glanced down at her outfit. The yellow workman’s coat barely covered anything, leaving a great deal of skin exposed except for her loincloth and breastband. “What’s wrong with my outfit?” she asked. “Besides, we have more important things to worry about. A messenger from the others who stayed here came by and told me about stealing an engine.”

“An engine? Really?” the High Priest asked, perking up.

“They apparently took it from the transport Gavial used to get here.”

“Why, I should go take a look at that!” the High Priest chirped, tapping the tips of his wings together as if they were fingertips. “We might we able to install it into the Big Ugly and get it up and running again! I’ll go look at that now!”

Zumama shrugged with a rueful chuckle. “He’s the same as ever,” she noted in an almost fond tone. She cocked her head slightly at a distant conversation—two of her tribesmen were discussing her conversation with the High Priest, mistaking the bird for a Liberi. She scoffed at the thought, as if an ordinary Liberi could handle the power of the Big, Ugly Thing.

She perked up and began walking over as a third person arrived. She recognized him largely due to his brother, Yota, who had seemed unwell that morning. After a moment, she even recalled his name. “Yogi,” she said, noticing he looked agitated, “what’s the matter?”

“Great Chief,” he began in the local tribal dialect. “My brother has caught the Stone Disease.”

Zumama frowned. “Speak Sargonian,” she reminded him absently. “How did he catch the disease?”

Yogi nodded in response to the admonition, but continued in somewhat halting Sargonian. “He went deeper into the mines than he was supposed to,” he said. “Even when I told him not to.”

“Idiot!” she hissed. “I told all of you to stay away from the deeper shafts! Where is he now?”

“He’s with Tomimi’s tribe,” Yogi said. “Gavial and that dark-haired outsider gave him some treatment.”

“Gavial… So, she really is a doctor now.” Zumama closed her eyes in a brief reflection.

“There’s something else, Great Chief.” Zumama opened her eyes to Yogi’s serious expression. “She asked me to tell you: she’s coming here, and she looked very angry.”

“Gavial’s probably mad that she lost to our leader!” one of the other two Archosaurian men said.

“You idiot, she’s the Great Chief now!” the second one replied.

“She’s still our leader!”

“Great Chief! Great Chief!”

One punched the other in the mouth and received a fist to the eye in response. Zumama and Yogi stepped away as the two began rolling and brawling in the dirt. “Gavial isn’t like that,” Zumama murmured, almost sadly.

“Great Chief, I trust Gavial, and that outsider,” Yogi said.

“I trust Gavial as well.” Zumama put a hand on Yogi’s shoulder. “Where is Yota now?”

“With Tomimi’s tribe.”

“I see… You should go see him. With Gavial’s people watching over him, he’ll be fine, but I’m sure he misses his brother.”

“I will, Great Chief. Thank you.”

As Yogi ran off, the High Priest returned. “Gavial is almost certainly coming here to reclaim her engine,” the bird noted.

“Maybe,” Zumama said. “But she’ll have to go through me to get it. I’ll admit, she’s strong, but foolish.” Zumama looked down at her hand, clenching it into a fist and gritting her teeth. “She thinks her fists can solve every problem she runs into, and she’s wrong. If she wants to take away the future of our tribe, we’ll give her another taste of what the Big Ugly can do.”

“Is Gavial coming here?” a husky woman’s voice asked. Zumama glanced to her side, seeing a short, stocky woman with dusky skin and bright blue eyes approaching. Her dark hair, which was as straight as pin-feathers, was covered by a hood, but she moved with absolute confidence.

“You overheard, Flint?” Zumama asked. At that moment, the two brawling men nearly rolled into the short Liberi woman. With two swift, vicious blows, Flint left both men curled up and whimpering in pain.

“Knock it off, you two,” she spat. She looked up, her intense gaze fixing on Zumama. “You don’t want her to come here, right?”

“If she comes here, I’ll defeat her,” Zumama said with an easy shrug, careful to not betray her real feelings.

“Then I’ll go stop her,” Flint replied. Without waiting to be dismissed, Flint turned on her heel and began marching away. She suddenly stopped, then turned about face and walked back up.

“Back so soon?” Zumama asked, blinking.

“Which way is she coming from?” Flint asked, her expression carefully neutral.

Blaze was not a happy Feline. Her black hair clung to her skin in waves and she was drenched in sweat and the humidity of the rainforest. “This sucks!” she snarled. “I’m beating the crap out of those two when I see them… Just half a day hiking and it’s so humid that I’m drenched!” She punched a nearby tree, shaking it and causing several birds to scatter from its limbs.

“On top of that, I haven’t seen anyone in nearly two days,” she muttered. “Even when I climb the trees, I just see more trees! Thank goodness I had my swimsuit on under my uniform, getting my money’s worth out of that, but still… Where the hell is everyone?”

Cupping her hands around her mouth, Blaze began to yell, “Hey, Ranma! You hit like a girl, you weenie! Gavial, your tail’s as thick as a redwood! Doc, it’s time for you to change hoods!” Despite her bellowing, nobody appeared, and she sighed in frustration. “Guess they’re not in earshot or that would’ve brought ‘em running… Ranma’s probably got the Doc, Gavial’s probably fine, I guess I don’t really need to worry about them.”

She began walking again, grumbling. “Maybe I should knock down some trees to make some more noise…”

A few hundred feet ahead, the undergrowth began to rustle, and Blaze halted. However, instead of a wild animal, a feral-looking Liberi girl with dusky skin emerged. While Blaze judged her as being on the shorter side, she had a solid build, and her blue eyes showed a determined willingness to fight. She mumbled something, but Blaze was too far away to make out the words.

She also didn’t particularly care. “Oh, thank God, another person!” she said, walking toward the Liberi. “Hey! Hi!”

The Liberi blinked at Blaze, looking her over, then said something in a language Blaze didn’t understand.

Despair began to again fill the Elite Operator’s heart. “Oh, no, you and I don’t speak the same language?” she moaned. “Dammit, Gavial, why didn’t you tell me people spoke different languages here?”

“Would you have even cared?” she could almost hear Ranma’s snide aside to her. Unlike her, he had been tutoring with Gavial in Sargonian all the way up to their arrival.

“Gavial?” the Liberi said, narrowing her eyes.

“Hey! You know Gavial? C’mon, do you know where she is?” Blaze asked, motioning with her hands at herself, then at the Liberi woman, then at the path.

The Liberi responded in the same language as before, then punched at Blaze, who hastily brought up her hand to block it.

“Whoa, hey, watch it!” Blaze growled. “Is this how you treat visitors around here?”

To her annoyance, the Liberi simply smirked at her. It was that familiar smirk that she often saw on Ranma’s face right before a sparring match. She said something again, but the only word Blaze caught was “Gavial.”

Blaze growled, narrowing her eyes. “You know what? I was in a pretty bad mood already, so you’re gonna be really good stress relief!” she yelled, shoving forward.

“Where are the others?” the cloaked figure asked.

An Archosaurian man with a blue-feathered headdress bowed his head. “The Great Wood have been defeated by an outsider,” he said.

Another adorned Archosaurian, this one with yellow and white feathers, also bowed his head. “Thick-Tails and Firestone were defeated by a strange woman carrying several weapons on her back,” he said.

“Some of the others have joined up with Eunectes,” the first man murmured.

A second Archosaurian with black feathers on his headdress sighed. “If I weren’t throwing my lot behind Gavial, I would, too,” he said. “She’s managed to get quite a bit of support. None of it’s going to waver after her little demonstration.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the cloaked girl said. “Your tribes will be enough.”

“Can we really challenge Zumama on our own?” yellow-and-white asked.

“Yes. Gavial will destroy Zumama’s stupid machine,” the cloaked girl said, “then I’ll become Great Chief and force her to stay.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” yellow-and-white said.

“It doesn’t matter,” the cloaked girl insisted. “This is the only way to make her stay. Remember, ‘Gavial’s Will’ isn’t just a name of a tribe, it’s an alliance to see Gavial as our Great Chief!”

“Tomimi’s right,” the black-feathered man said. “I’ll only recognize Gavial as the Great Chief.”

The rest of the people murmured in general consensus and agreement. As the chatter became too loud, the hooded girl smacked one rock against another, creating a loud clack! that sounded over the din and silenced everyone.

“We’re agreed, then,” she said, and everyone nodded. “Good. Everyone, head to the Eunectes tribe and wait for me.”

“For Gavial!” one of the other clan chiefs cried.

“For Gavial!” everyone replied in unison.

Ranma cocked his head to the side.

“What is it?” Gavial asked.

“Just thought I sensed a familiar battle aura,” he muttered. “I sensed it earlier, too.”

“Maybe it’s a friend. With food!” Ceobe suggested. The Perro had been much more lucid since drinking the concoction Inam had sold Ranma, though she also claimed to not remember anything she did under the influence of the mushrooms.

Ranma idly tossed her another ration bar and she ravenously tore into it. “Definitely a friend,” he mused. “In fact, she’s close.”

“How close?” the Doctor asked.

“Hey! Doctor, everyone, I found you!” Blaze said as she emerged from the underbrush, carrying someone over her shoulder. “It’s good to see you’re all alright. I was starting to worry.”

“That close,” Ranma said to the Doctor with a grin. “Blaze, good to see you’re alright. How badly did you damage the ground when you landed?”

“Not as badly as if you’d hit it with your head, Ranma,” Blaze replied, grinning at him. The chainsaw-wielding operator lacked her usual weapon and was wearing a flattering white two-piece swimsuit. “Hey, Gavial, help me out here. Who’s this kid who tried to jump me?”

“Oh, that’s Kemar,” Gavial said, looking the girl over. Ranma also gave her a look over—a short Liberi girl with dusky skin and a compact, sturdy build. “She probably thought you looked strong and wanted to fight you. She really loves fighting.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Blaze said. “I gotta give her credit, she didn’t go down easy.”

“Hey, I don’t like fighting, I’m just a hands-on problem solver.”

“Keep lying like that, and you’ll ruin everyone’s image of you, especially Tomimi and your mech-loving girlfriend,” Ranma pointed out. He ducked under Gavial’s retaliatory backhand. “I mean, you just missed her so much that you jumped in the ring as soon as you saw her.” He leaned back from another swing. “Is this separation anxiety?”

“Keep it up, Saotome, I know where you sleep,” Gavial threatened ominously.

The Liberi girl started to stir on Blaze’s shoulder, so Blaze moved to set her on her feet. She murmured something in the local tribal language, and Gavial responded in the same. Kemar whirled around at the sound of Gavial’s voice, and the two had a quick, rapid conversation, before Gavial began laughing.

“What? What is it?” Blaze asked.

As Gavial continued laughing, Kemar swiftly turned and bowed to Blaze, moving onto her knees. “She wants to be your disciple because you kicked her ass,” Gavial finally managed to say between her laughs.

“Gah! What? No, I’m not the instructor, he is!” Blaze said, pointing at Ranma.

“Nothin’ to do with me,” Ranma noted, turning away from the show and crossing his arms behind his head. He leaned aside as Kemar threw a punch at his unprotected back and said something in the tribal tongue. “Gavial, what’d she say?”

“She said not to disrespect her new chief,” Gavial said. “And then she challenged you.”

Ranma raised an eyebrow at that, turning back around and giving Kemar a onceover. “Declined,” he said. “I don’t bully the weak, especially when they just woke up from getting their ass kicked a minute ago.”

“I dun think she’s gonna like hearin’ that,” Croissant murmured.

Sure enough, as Gavial translated Ranma’s response, Kemar lunged forward to throw another punch with a yell. Ranma began falling back from the assault, glancing over to see the Doctor having a brief conversation with Blaze, and shrugged.

Maybe they had time after all.

Kemar swept her leg at him and he jumped over her head, his jacket flapping in the air as he landed behind her. As she tried to snap a straight kick at him, he turned in profile, his left hand coming up to press at the back of her head. As he spun around with his dodge, he shoved at her, and with a surprised cry, she faceplanted into the jungle dirt.

She spat out the dirt as she stood up, glaring at him. He simply slipped his right hand behind his back, beckoning at her with two fingers on his left, and smirked.

She lunged forward again, her punches flying out, and as he dodged, he could see what Blaze meant earlier. She had power and speed behind each blow, and she was skilled—each strike was aimed at a vital point. His left hand came up, correcting the course of one blow even as he dodged out of its way.

“You’re fast, strong, skilled,” he said. She kicked at him as Gavial translated, and his leg came up to correct the kick itself while his hand corrected her posture and balance to put more force behind it. “But you’re untrained. No form or style. The lines of your attack are an open book.”

Kemar’s eyes narrowed, and she settled back, watching Ranma warily. When he made no move to attack, she stepped forward, throwing a straight punch at him. He slipped aside easily, his right hand adjusting the movement of her arm while his left corrected her upper body’s posture.

“You have a lot of striking power with a low center of gravity,” he said. “Focus on that. Fewer straights except to feint your opponent and bait them out. Aim upward to take advantage of your height instead of trying to overcome it.”

This time, when she punched, it was not at him, though she still watched him. He took up the same posture and followed the same lines of her punch, angling it slightly upward. She matched the movement, glancing at him again, and he nodded. This time, she turned and tried the same punch at him, and he deflected it upward with a grin.

Her smile, so unexpected, lit up her face like the sun. She said something in her tribal tongue, her expression and tone eager.

“She wants to learn from you, too, Saotome. Also, she says to call her ‘Flint,’” Gavial said.

“Well, that’s up to the Doc. I’m not plannin’ to stay here, so if she wants to come back to Rhodes Island with us, I don’t mind her joining the classes,” Ranma said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, we should get goin’, shouldn’t we? We’re still headed t’ Zumama’s place?” Croissant asked.

“Wait! We still have somewhere to be, first!” Utage said.

“Huh?” Blaze asked. “Where?”

Dylan, the pilot who flew the low-altitude aircraft Good Boy, took a long pull from his canteen. He and the robotic Lancet-2 had completed what repairs they could and were now just waiting for the return of the craft’s engine. Fortunately, those repairs included access to the food stores and potable water reserves.

Shortly after the plane had been transported to a tribal village, someone else had shown up with “Stone Disease,” and Lancet had taken over monitoring the man’s vitals. According to her, initial treatment had already begun and it looked like the local would recover—at least from his initial Oripathy attack.

Now, however, Dylan was starting to really dislike the Sargonian rainforests.

“Lancet-2, I have a question,” he asked the spherical robot. She was wheeling back from checking on “Yota,” and turned to address him.

“What is it?”

“Isn’t your battery in danger of running low?”

Lancet’s lights flashed briefly as if she were blinking. “Not at all. Before our departure, the wonderful Miss Closure fitted me with an extended-life battery. Theoretically, I could function for a week without needing a recharge. We also brought several spares in our aircraft.”

“That’s good,” Dylan said with relief. “And what about Kay? She managed to get up and run off, yelling about Striker and honey biscuits.”

“Given her constitution, she is likely to be able to manage on her own,” Lancet replied, wheeling over to park next to Dylan. “However, it is good of you to be concerned.”

“I think I’m just bored,” Dylan muttered, slumping. “I should have gone to the ceremony with the Doctor. At least then there might have been an exciting show.”

“The aircraft is an important Rhodes Island asset,” Lancet reminded him, “and it is our duty to guard it.”

“I’m just a pilot. I know the deal with the aircraft but I’m no good in a fight,” Dylan reminded her. “But I’m bored out of my skull. Worse yet, I got like twelve hours of sleep so I’m wide awake now. At least you can put yourself into sleep mode if you get bored.”

“Actually, I’m incapable of feeling boredom,” she replied. “Though I’ve seen the lovely Miss Closure experience it. It makes her behave in very odd ways.”

“That, I believe,” Dylan muttered. He perked up at seeing a woman with dark skin and white hair approaching, a tattered gray coat covering her form. “Hello, who’s this?”

“Are you Dylan?” the woman asked in Sargonian.

“That’s me. You speak Sargonian?”

“Yes, and I see you’re with the machine he described… You must be who he meant.” The woman fished in her coat, pulling out a folded note. “The Doctor of Rhodes Island asked that I deliver this message to you.”

Dylan took the note, unfolding it and standing up. “Lancet-2,” he said in a serious tone, “we’ve got some work to do.”

The waterfall was audible long before the Rhodes Island contingent reached it, and Ranma gave a low whistle at the oasis that formed around it. A massive lake surrounded by silk-soft sand was fed by an enormous waterfall, and a cool breeze wafted off of the lake. It was quite welcome after the stifling rainforest.

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Blaze exclaimed joyfully.

“See?” Gavial said, dropping her pack to the sand and beginning to strip her outfit off. Underneath, she was wearing a black one-piece bikini. “Didn’t steer you wrong, did I?”

“Finally!” Utage exclaimed, dropping her coat to reveal her own two-piece swimsuit. “Cool water, here I come!” she said, running and jumping into the water.

“How about it, Saotome? Gonna join us lovely ladies?” Gavial said, grinning at Ranma.

He plucked his braid and held it over his shoulder, looking at it meaningfully. “Hmm, seems like my hair is black, which means I’m a guy now,” he replied. “So, no, don’t think so.”

“Spoilsport.”

Flint patted Ranma on the arm. Saying nothing, she instead dropped into a fighting stance.

“Heh, she’s got spunk,” Blaze said. She dropped into her own stance. “How about it, Ranma?”

Ranma’s pack hit the ground, followed by his Operator’s jacket. He grinned, stretching out in his form-fitting tactical shirt, and tapped his fists together. “Let’s go!” he said, dropping into his own stance.

As the trio charged forward at each other and blows began to fly back and forth, Utage shared a glance with Croissant from the water. “They’re really going at it,” the blonde said.

“Sure are,” Croissant said, laughing. “But when yer in the fightin’ mood, you’d be right there with ‘em, wouldn’tcha?”

Utage smiled shyly. “Maybe.” She gave Croissant a quick once-over. “That’s not really a swimsuit, is it?”

“Ya got me. It’s a waterproof outdoorsy getup, though, so it’ll do just fine.”

“You’re really about function over form, huh?” Utage noted. “Well, hey, it’s not a normal beach but it’s still a beautiful view. Serious ‘back to nature vibes.’ Wish I brought my camera.”

“I’ve never seen anythin’ like it,” Croissant admitted. “I’m havin’ a ball!”

“Whoo! Water!” Ceobe said, leaping out into the lake with a splash. The glittering drops of water served as a dramatic backdrop to Ranma leaping out of the sky with a flying kick at Flint’s side, while the stocky Liberi’s hands were locked in a show of strength against Blaze.

Gavial exchanged words with the Doctor, Croissant and Utage enjoyed the sun and the crystal clear water, and Ranma found himself ganged up on by Blaze and Flint. A grin of pure enjoyment split his face as he exchanged blows with the other two fighters, and he barely noticed Tomimi running up to latch on to Gavial.

He brought his arms up to block a blow from Blaze, the force passing through his body and out into the water behind him, causing a wave to crash through the lake. He smirked at Blaze over his crossed arms. “You tryin’ to get me wet now, Blaze?” he asked.

“I just think it might be fun for the Doctor to be the only guy around,” the Feline Operator replied, grinning wickedly. Flint seemed to sense a change in the energy around the fighters, backing off to speak to Gavial.

“I’ll put you in that lake before I go in,” Ranma said.

“You wanna bet?”

Ranma moved forward. As typical for her style, Blaze simply absorbed the blows and reached forward to grab at Ranma’s shirt. He ducked aside only to see her knee driving toward his chest. His hands clapped onto her leg as he jumped, vaulting over the limb and sticking his tongue out at Blaze.

She planted the foot and whirled. Even as she started to fall for the sand, her free leg hit him dead center and took him off his feet and into the water. He landed with a tremendous splash, quickly surfacing—red haired and female. “That was dirty!” Ranma yelled out.

“But it worked!” Blaze said, laughing. Flint pointed and stared, her eyes wide and jaw dropping in shock, but Gavial said something to her as Ranma waded to shore. Ranma’s shirt, which normally clung to his male form, was no longer quite so form fitting to her midriff but adhered tightly to her chest. “Now you could join us in enjoying the beach.”

“I was enjoying the beach already,” Ranma grumbled, wringing out her pigtail. “Who knows when I’m gonna be able to get hot water to change back?”

“We can definitely get you some before we leave, Ranma, don’t stress about it,” Gavial assured him. “But if you’re that upset about it, we can get moving again. The sooner we get the engine back, the sooner we get out of here.”

“Then let’s get goin’,” Ranma said, flipping her pigtail over her shoulder.

“Waaahhh!” the High Priest yelled, moments before another explosion sent him flying.

“The High Priest is at it again,” one of the Eunectes tribe mechanics muttered.

“Nice arc, though,” another one replied. “Where’s he gonna land?”

“Don’t worry about it, he’ll be right back.” The mechanic held up a tube form the Big, Ugly Thing, eyeing the engine he had been tasked with installing. “I think this goes here… Just plug it right in and… There, is it working?”

“No,” his companion replied flatly. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“More than you do, I bet,” the mechanic retorted. “But it’s not my fault, I’ve never seen an engine like this before. This is trial and error to get working.”

“Let me try,” the other worker said. He changed the port on the engine the tube was connected to. “What does this button—no, never mind, not touching that. Connect this tube here and that one there, and…”

“Now who doesn’t know what they’re doing?” a third mechanic said. “Look at you two idiots, you haven’t even connected the gas pipe!” He joined the second mechanic in fiddling with the connections.

“And none of you came to help me,” the High Priest announced as he returned, flapping his wings to get soot out of his feathers. “You have no respect for your elders!”

“But, High Priest,” the first mechanic said, wiping at his greasy fingers with a cloth, “you always come right back, better than ever. We’re just used to it!”

“Who cares, anyway?” the second mechanic said, slapping the engine chamber shut. “That looks good, let’s get on with testing!”

The High Priest scoffed, his feathers ruffling, but he hopped into the operator’s seat of the Big Ugly. With the ease of a long practiced habit, he flipped several switches, and the engine in the mechanical monstrosity’s heart roared to life. With a metallic howl, the huge machine stood up, rumbling.

“It’s alive! It’s alive!” the High Priest cackled. “Soon, anyone who dares to oppose the Eunectes tribe will face the power of this fully armed and operational machine!”

Eunectes herself came up at that point, planting her hands on her hip and cocking her head to the side. “Well, well,” she murmured. “Well done, my tribesmen.”

“Great Chief! I’ve never seen anything so beautiful!” the second mechanic said, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

The High Priest let out another triumphant cackle. “Once just a pile of scrap metal, the Big Ugly is now truly majestic! I feel moved to song!”

“Don’t you dare,” Eunectes warned, “you’re terrible at singing.”

“It’s just a matter of style, I’m sure! I’ll try singing in bel canto!”

“Great Chief!” a woman of the tribe said, running over. “We’ve got trouble! It’s Gavial’s party, they’re headed right this way!”

“She’s just in time to be crushed by the Big Ugly’s full power!” the High Priest crowed.

“Not yet,” Eunectes said. “I’ll meet with her, first. Wait for my signal, High Priest. Don’t move until then.”

“Oh, very well…”

Eunectes followed her tribeswoman over to the gates, seeing Gavial and her allies approaching. Strangely, the dark-haired youth she expected was missing, replaced by a red-haired woman in the same clothing. Not allowing the confusion to show on her face, Eunectes stepped forward, catching everybody’s attention. “Gavial, what are you doing?” she called out.

“We need to have a talk,” Gavial replied, stepping ahead of her friends.

“You’re not getting your engine back.”

“We’ll sort that out in a minute,” Gavial replied. “But, is it true that you’ve been having your people work the mines?”

“It is,” Eunectes replied, nodding. “Are you truly so upset about your loss to the Big, Ugly Thing?”

“Huh?” Gavial blinked in confusion, shaking her head. “No, the Big Ugly is great. That was a fair loss, I admit it. But your people are getting sick! They’re getting Oripathy down in those mines, and I can’t stand by and allow that!”

Eunectes turned slightly to glare at Yogi, who had the grace to look ashamed, before turning to address Gavial. “Oripathy—meaning Stone Disease. That’s not my fault, though I’ll take some responsibility,” she said. “I’ve ordered my people to stay out of the depths of the mines, but there’s always some idiot who doesn’t listen. Actually, I wanted to thank you for so effectively treating Yota. I understand he’s recovering well, thanks to you.”

Gavial blinked again, and the redhead’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Wait, you’ve been ordering them away from the depths?” Gavial asked. “Yogi, why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“You didn’t ask,” the Archosaurian man replied bluntly.

“Well, that’s kind of important information!” Gavial shot back. She spun around. “Hey, did I really not ask?”

“You didn’t,” the redhead said.

“Not even once,” the hooded figure next to her added.

“Aw, man…”

“But it’s kinda obvious. And I’m mad at myself for missing it,” the redhead said. She raised a hand and pointed at Eunectes. “She’s Infected. She knows the dangers of Stone Disease firsthand. I bet that’s why she doesn’t mess around with the mines and gets mad at people who do.”

“Wait, what?” Gavial asked, spinning around to gape at Eunectes. “Zumama…”

“It’s true,” Eunectes replied, holding her chin up proudly as she removed the yellow worker’s coat she wore. With only her breastband and loincloth to cover her, the small black crystals growing along her body were visible to the outsiders and her tribesfolk alike. “You should know. I’ve been running around those mines since we were kids. I’d daresay nobody knows where the diseased rocks are better than I do.”

Gavial’s posture slackened and she let out a bitter sigh and a brief chuckle. “So, that’s how it is, huh?” she muttered, straightening out with a slight smile. “Right. Sorry for accusing you, Zumama. Guess Ranma’s got sharper eyes than me.”

“Ranma?” Eunectes said, raising an eyebrow and pulling her coat back on. “I thought that was the name of the black-haired boy with you.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the redhead said, raising her hand. “I’ve got a magic curse that turns me into a girl. Speaking of which, if we’re all friends again, can I have some hot water?”

“Yogi, please,” Eunectes said, and the man ran off to fulfill the request. “It’s fine, Gavial. Misunderstandings happen.”

“Eh? That’s it?” the girl with blonde hair and purple eyes said. Eunectes took note of the large sword the girl carried. “Just a simple, cleared-up misunderstanding? Nobody sticking to their guns stubbornly and refusing to back down?”

“Take it where you get it, Utage, trust me,” Ranma muttered.

“Sorry,” Eunectes said, shrugging.

“Gavial’s not like that,” the hooded figure said to Utage.

“I guess…”

“Well, that still leaves out other matter,” Gavial said, as Yogi came back with a bowl of slightly steaming water that he handed to Ranma. Ranma splashed herself in the face with it, turning back into the dark-haired youth Eunectes recognized. Gavial continued on as if it were an everyday occurrence. “You have our engine?”

“I do.”

“And you won’t give it back? We need it to leave.”

“I won’t. I can have someone escort you if you want to leave, but I’m keeping the engine.”

Gavial chuckled again, shaking her head. “Nah, Kal’tsit would get mad if we let that happen,” she said. “So you won’t hand it over, no matter what?”

“No matter what.”

“Then I guess we’re gonna have to fight after all.”

Eunectes’s muscles tensed up in anticipation. “That was always the plan,” she said, trying to contain the excitement she felt about getting to test the Big, Ugly Thing’s full power. “Your engine has been installed in the Big Ugly. I need its power. If you want it, you’ll have to fight me for it.”

“Deal!” Gavial replied with a grin.

“Then come with me, all of you,” Eunectes said, “I’ll show you our battlefield.”

Ranma looked around as he and the others from Rhodes Island followed Zumama. To call the homes of the Eunectes tribes “hovels” seemed a little insulting… to some of the hovels Ranma had seen in his life.

“The buildings here are so different from the other tribes,” Tomimi noted, speaking up for the first time in a while.

“They’re crappy,” Ceobe said.

“And there’s mechanical junk everywhere,” Ranma said, stepping over a pile of scrap and gears.

“Not surprised. I bet the Eunectes tribe loves to fiddle and tinker as much as their leader,” Gavial said. “That’s just how it goes with the Tiacauh.”

“With just their passion, my people have made this tribe,” Zumama said proudly. “The homes may not look like much, but their work reflects their hearts.”

“There’s so many people,” Ceobe said in awe, looking around as tribesfolk gathered around, murmuring about Gavial.

“Many are from other tribes who have recently joined us.” Zumama smiled at each and every one of her people. “Some came after the ceremony and will join us soon.”

“So, what was it you wanted to say?” Gavial asked.

Zumama let out a soft sigh. “Gavial… If you’d just left without a fuss, we could have avoided this,” she murmured, “but because you refused to, because you’re standing here before me, now, I have to defeat you.”

“Why?”

“You’re too strong!” Zumama said, whirling around. “Do you remember that day? The day everything changed?”

Gavial frowned and nodded. “The Sargonian mobile city. You changed completely after we saw it.”

“I was in awe,” Zumama said, clasping her hands together under her chin. “Such a massive machine, with so many people living atop it, traveling across the land like it was nothing. And to learn from the elders that there were many more. How could you not see something like that and feel like your strength means nothing?”

“I guess, but I just saw it and thought, ‘wow, that’s big,’ but what’s something that big got to do with me?” Gavial said with a chuckle.

“As expected of our Gavial.” Eunectes chuckled ruefully, shaking her head. She lowered her arms back to her side. “But that was the day I lost interested in fighting with you. That’s when I started studying Sargonian and mechanical engineering. And that’s when the High Priest and I started working on the Big, Ugly Thing.”

“Yeah, I went looking for you, if you’ll recall,” Gavial pointed out. “So does that mean that little bird guy is your invisible friend?”

A blue bird with yellow fringes under its eyes and huge beak suddenly appeared next to Zumama, waving a wing. “That’s right!” he said.

“Whoa!” Utage said as she, along with the others, recoiled back in surprise. “When did you get here?”

“He’s got the same energy about him as my Baws, Emperor,” Croissant said, peering at the blue bird.

“I am the High Priest,” the bird said. “By Emperor, do you mean that penguin?”

“Sure do. Wait, you know the Baws?”

“I do, I do,” the High Priest said. “And I can smell him on you… It’s been a few decades since I’ve seen him… or was it a few centuries? A long time, either way.”

“A few centuries?” Utage asked in a tiny voice.

“I thought she hallucinated you, to be honest,” Gavial said. “I was even looking up similar cases at Rhodes Island to be able to help her.”

“Ha! No, I’ve just been carefully watching… like this!” With a wave of his wing, the High Priest vanished again.

Ranma raised both eyebrows. “Whoa, I can’t even sense his presence anymore…”

“Normally, I would not reveal myself,” the High Priest said, becoming visible again. “But I must pilot the Big Ugly, so I have no choice. But it’s been a delight working with Zumama to build these machines.”

“Speaking of the Big Ugly, is someone supposed to be driving it?” Ranma asked, pointing. “It’s about to go right into that house.”

“Crap! Wait! No! Bad!” the High Priest yelled, running back to take control of the machine again.

“He’s good at runnin’ that thing,” Croissant noted with an amused tone. “He an’ the Baws really are birds of a feather, I reckon.”

Zumama simply shook her head with a mix of amusement and disappointment on her face. “Hey, Zumama,” Gavial said, drawing her attention. “Let’s get to the point. Do we really need to have this talk?”

“We do. It’s important—there are things I need to say.” Zumama pointed at Gavial. “You were always my biggest obstacle, you know.”

“Huh? How?”

Lowering her hand, Zumama shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not you, specifically, but people like you. People who think that might makes right and that the strongest get what they want.” Sadness began to creep into her voice as she spoke. “I tried to show them the wonder of machines, but they’re never interested. They think that if they can be strong like you, that’s all they need. That’s why I need your engine to help me destroy this false image of strength you’ve created.”

“Makes sense to me,” Utage said. “What do you think, Doctor?”

“I can certainly understand her position,” the hooded Doctor said.

“Had to deal with a lot of ‘I’m stronger so I’m right’ in my life, too,” Ranma admitted. “It got old fast.”

“Honestly, I’m almost convinced, myself,” Gavial said. “But I never meant to be anyone’s role model. When I say that fists solve problems, I meant my fists solve my problems.”

Zumama actually smiled at that. “I know. I don’t blame you, Gavial. But even still, I have to defeat you with the power of the Big Ugly.” She turned to the crowd that had gathered. “Everyone, listen up! We’re having one more duel to decide who the real Great Chief is—Gavial versus the Big Ugly! High Priest, it’s time!”

“You got it!” the High Priest called from the pilot seat of the Big Ugly.

“Are you ready, Gavial? Your friends may also join in,” Zumama said, turning back to Gavial.

“Don’t even think about it, Saotome,” Gavial said immediately. Ranma pouted. “This is all mine!”

“Fine, fine,” he said, waving his hand. “Alright, everyone, outta the AO! Get clear! Move!”

Once Ranma had hurried the others out of the combat area, Zumama also stepped back. “Let’s test the performance first,” she said. “High Priest, fire!”

The massive cannon in the Big Ugly’s mouth unleashed on Gavial with a tremendous boom, but Gavial had already leapt over the shot to face the machine. “Ha! Don’t think you’ll hit me a second time with that!” she yelled.

“Just as expected of you, Gavial!” the High Priest crowed. “But no problem, have a taste of my iron fist!” The bird man manipulated the controls, and the Big Ugly’s enormous spiked fist launched forward at Gavial.

“A test of strength, huh?” Gavial grinned, her tail lashing at the ground. “Bring it on!” she yelled, catching the massive limb with her body and stopping it cold.

“Whoa! So strong!” Ceobe gasped.

“She’s holdin’ it back!” Croissant cheered.

“I know I asked this back when I got my first physical,” Utage said, “but why is she a medic again?”

“I can’t help but cheer for such strength, even if you’re my opponent.” The High Priest let out a brief cackle over the din of the machinery underneath him. “But the Big Ugly has an overdrive mode! And this is exactly why!”

“Wh-What?!” Gavial yelled as the machine’s fist began to push her back.

“It’s overpowering her!” Ranma yelled. “Gavial, what’re you doing?!”

“Ah, what a wonderful sound!” the High Priest crowed. “Eh? Wait, these readings…!”

“High Priest?” Zumama yelled. “What’s happening?”

“My butt is being cooked! Awk!” the High Priest yelled back, beginning to hop in his seat.

“I meant about the Big Ugly!”

“Oh, just reporting my own status as well,” the High Priest replied matter-of-factly. “But I think I’m losing control of the Big Ugly! The engine output is too high!”

“Get out of there!” Zumama shouted in alarm.

“No, I’ll fight like this!” the High Priest replied. “I’m not through yet! I—!”

The top of the machine suddenly exploded, sending the High Priest flying into the sky and trailing smoke. “High Priest!” Zumama yelled.

“Look out!” Ranma shouted, running forward. Zumama saw him coming and looked up, just in time to see the massive sawblade hand of the Big Ugly swinging directly at her. Ranma scooped the tribal chieftess into his arms, pirouetting on one foot to kick away the sawblade with his other leg, and sliding out of reach with Zumama in his arms. “Are you alright?”

Zumama blinked at him, wide-eyed. “You… you saved me…” She shook her head, looking around as Ranma set her down. “I’m alright, thank you. But where’s the High Priest?”

“I’m here!” the bird said from her feet, narrowly avoiding her kicking him in surprise. “We’ll have to change tactics. Don’t worry about me, I’ll do what I can to stabilize it, but in the meantime, you should find a way to neutralize the Big Ugly.”

“Understood…” Zumama looked up at Ranma and Gavial. “Ranma, Gavial, take your people out of here. This isn’t your concern.”

“Whatd’ya mean?” Gavial asked. “Didn’t you want to beat me?”

“Not like this…”

“Forget it, I’m not leaving,” Ranma said. “We’ll help. Right, Gavial?”

“Hell, yeah!”

“I’ll help fight the big monster, too!” Ceobe said, joining the three.

“Everyone, prepare for battle,” the Doctor said. “Do whatever it takes to neutralize the Big Ugly!”

“Huh? You want me to fight, too?” Utage whined.

“Fine, but you owe me overtime, Baws!” Croissant said, retrieving her weapons. “Triple rate!”

“Let’s go!” Ranma yelled, running forward. “Utage, Blaze, deal with the sawblade! Kay, freeze the cannon!”

“Roger!” the other three replied. Utage’s sword flashed from its scabbard, her eyes glowing as she summoned up her strength, while Blaze simply leapt right at the sawblade.

Ceobe whipped out her axe, her elemental Arts causing glittering mist to form in the air around it, and swung at the machine’s chest. The Big Ugly attempted to wildly swing its spiked fist at the Perro, but Ranma and Gavial grabbed the fist, planting their feet.

“I got it, you hit it!” Gavial yelled. Ranma nodded, leaping over the massive fist.

“Geimon Tessen Shi!” he yelled, focusing his ki and smashing his palm into the elbow. The joint snapped down, unbalancing the entire machine and toppling it over. He landed on the arm as Ceobe’s axe slammed into the machine’s chest, ice beginning to spread from the impact point.

“Keep going!” the High Priest said from the Big Ugly’s pilot seat. “I think you’ve almost got it!”

Blaze latched on to the sawblade arm and pulled, wrenching it down to the ground. Utage ran for that elbow while Ranma jumped over the spiked fist’s elbow joint. “Kijin Raishuu Dan!” he yelled, slashing with the blade of his hand. As the ki-charged blade of wind shot down to slice into the steel arm, Utage slashed with her sword at the other arm, and both metal limbs were severed from the Big Ugly at the elbow.

With a metallic roar, the Big Ugly lifted itself up, smashing free of the ice forming on its torso. The cannon in its mouth blasted loudly, aimed at Ranma, but he slid to the side and the shot blasted harmlessly into the rainforest. Before the monster could reorient itself, a flurry of blazing knives struck the cannon’s barrel, slicing it to ribbons, and Croissant jumped in behind the knives to smash the torso back down with her warhammer.

“Get the legs!” Zumama yelled, running forward and grabbing one of the feet. Gavial grabbed the other, both Tiacauh women holding tightly onto the limbs. Blaze, wielding Ceobe’s massive spear, jumped between the Big Ugly’s legs, striking to the left and to the right and severing the limbs at the hips. With one last, pitiful rumble, the Big Ugly suddenly fell silent.

“Woo!” Ranma cheered, pumping his fist. “Nice job, team!”

“Hey, not bad!” Gavial said, stretching her arms over her head.

“Gavial, you’re bleeding!” Blaze said with alarm, walking over.

“It’s just a scratch,” Gavial insisted. “Probably from catching the hand. Tomimi, bring me my medical bag!” Instead of Tomimi, it was Utage who handed the back over. “Hey, where’s Tomimi?”

“Dunno, thought I saw her running off right before we won,” Utage said.

“Well, we’ll find her in a minute, then,” Gavial said, pulling supplies out. “Hey, Saotome, help me out, will ya? Kay, Utage, Croissant, check for any injured and bring ‘em here if they need medical treatment.”

Ranma took the bottle of antiseptic fluid from Gavial, dabbing it onto a sterilized cloth and wiping at the cut on her head. “It’s pretty shallow, actually,” he said. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He grabbed a wad of gauze and a roll of adhesive bandaging and began to pack and wrap the wound. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Gavial said, touching at the injury briefly. “You sure you don’t want to transfer to medical?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Big Ugly,” Zumama murmured.

“It’s alright, we can repair it,” the High Priest said, patting her calf with his wing. “And then we’ll correct the problem.”

“Oh, hey, sorry we had to smash the thing up,” Gavial said. “It really is cool.”

“It’s alright. It had to be done.” Zumama turned slightly toward Gavial. “I checked the engine. It’s still in working order. It’s all yours, Great Chief.”

“Huh?” Gavial blinked.

“You beat the Big Ugly. That means you’re Great Chief now,” Zumama said. “You won’t stay?”

Gavial chuckled. “Nah, sorry. I found my calling, and it’s not as Great Chief.”

“Is doctoring really that fun?”

“At least as fun as building machines.”

Zumama smiled again. “Fair enough. Well, everyone’s here, Gavial… What do you want to say to them?”

“Man, this is kind of a pain,” Gavial mumbled, looking around. “What do you think, Doctor?”

“All hail Great Chief Gavial!” the Doctor quipped, pumping his fist in the air.

As the cheer echoed around the field, Gavial groaned. “I really want to punch you right now…”

“Gavial!” Tomimi’s voice called as she ran through the crowd. The pale Archosaurian girl latched onto Gavial’s waist. “Are you alright?!”

“Huh? There you are,” Gavial said, patting Tomimi’s head. “I’m fine, but where’d you run off to, you brat?”

“Well, I… I had to pee!”

Gavial squinted down at Tomimi, then suddenly looked as though an idea occurred. After a short laugh, she put an arm around Tomimi and straightened. “Alright! I’ve got it! Listen up, everyone!” she yelled out. “I beat the Big Ugly, so I’m Great Chief, right? Well, I have to say… your fists are everything!”

A cheer went up from the various tribespeople. Tomimi blinked. “Gavial, are you staying as Great Chief?” she asked.

“But!” Gavial said, not answering Tomimi, “I have something very important to do, so I can’t stay here. Instead, Tomimi will give orders on my behalf and act as Great Chief in my stead!”

The tribespeople cheered again.

“Is that really gonna fly?” Utage asked uncertainly.

Zumama shrugged. “Gavial is the Great Chief, her word is law.”

“Hey, Zumama, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” Gavial said with a grin. “That machine was awesome, but I think I’ll stick to my fists.”

“Hmph. I’ll just rebuild the Big Ugly, better than ever, and defeat you that way.”

“I look forward to it! But once you beat me, you’ll need to beat him,” Gavial said, pointing at Ranma.

To Ranma’s surprise, a faint red hue rose on Zumama’s face as she looked at him. “I will,” she said, looking away from him.

“But first, you need to come with me back to Rhodes Island,” Gavial said.

“I do? Why?”

“You need an Oripathy checkup. Saotome and I can give you a basic one but I’d rather have Dr. Tana look you over.”

“Can I refuse? I’d rather work on the Big Ugly,” Zumama said, frowning.

“Bring it with you,” Ranma said. “We should have plenty of room on the plane. Your bird friend can come with you, too. We can introduce you two to Closure—she’d love to work on machines with you.”

“See? There you go,” Gavial said. “So, no, you can’t refuse. I’ll bring you along even if I have to kidnap you.”

“Gavial, you really aren’t staying?” Tomimi asked, trembling slightly.

“‘Fraid not. We’ll have to get going as soon as the engine is reinstalled,” Gavial said.

“No!”

Everyone glanced down at Tomimi’s sudden exclamation. “Huh?”

“I won’t let you go!” Tomimi insisted.

“Tomimi?” Gavial said, blinking. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be without you again!” Tomimi asserted. “I wanted to be Great Chief so I could force you to stay…”

“You’re the one who organized the ceremony!” Zumama realized.

“And if you hadn’t butted in, I’d be Great Chief right now!” Tomimi exclaimed.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Gavial asked. “I thought Zumama organized it…”

“No, not at all,” the Doctor said, crossing his wrists behind his back. “In fact, it was very odd for them to have the ceremony at all.”

“What’s that?” Gavial blinked again.

“Your outsider friend is pretty sharp,” Zumama murmured. “Think about it, Gavial. Ever since you left, we’ve been scattering and breaking apart. There’s no central unifying force to bring together the ceremony. That means someone had to be working behind the scenes.”

“Which couldn’t have been Eunectes,” the Doctor explained. “The Big Ugly didn’t have an engine. She wasn’t ready. She certainly had no idea we were coming. The only person who would is Tomimi. She likely planned to build an engine from scratch, which could take her nearly a year, and then she would try to organize the tribes together for the ceremony. But she didn’t count on you coming back.”

“Now that you mention it,” Gavial said, her eyes narrowing as she stepped back from Tomimi, “you were the one who originally asked me to come back! You planned this all from the start!”

Tomimi’s expression hardened into a glare as she stepped away from the Rhodes Island contingent. The hairs on the back of Ranma’s neck started to stand up as mottled gray and green bodies, carrying weapons and shields marked in various tribal symbols, began to emerge from the rainforest.

“That’s right,” Tomimi said. “I’ve been studying for years, all to know how to get the other tribes to back me and call the ceremony together. But it’s not too late… the tribes here are all under my command! The Big Ugly is defeated! There’s nothing left except you outsiders who can stop me from keeping Gavial here! You can… you can just leave and we won’t hurt you…”

“Tomimi, why?” Gavial asked.

“Because I love you! More than anything or anyone! Ever since you saved my life!” Tomimi exclaimed, tears falling from her eyes. “You’re the strongest person in our tribe! As long as you’re Great Chief, you can lead us! You can lead everyone!”

Gavial’s expression fell, her teeth clenching as she stared at Tomimi, and her hands clenching into fists. “You little brat,” she growled. “And here I thought you were finally grown up… I’ve got important work to do out there, Tomimi. You can’t stop me.”

“‘If I can’t capture his heart, at least I can keep him close to me,’” Tomimi quoted. “And, ‘Even if he resents me, it doesn’t matter, as long as he’s by my side!’ That’s what the books taught me! Even if you hate me, as long as you’re with me, that’s all that matters!”

“Whoo,” Ranma breathed out. “Someone’s been taking the wrong lessons from their books…”

“Slurping down nothing but trashy romance novels with a straw will do that to you,” Utage remarked.

“The Big Ugly is defeated and you’re exhausted! Just surrender, Gavial!” Tomimi pleaded. “If you surrender, and your friends stand down, they can leave without anyone getting hurt!”

“You can’t keep me here, Tomimi,” Gavial snarled.

“That’s not up to you,” Tomimi said. “Everyone, attack!”

“What’s the plan, Doc?” Ranma asked as the Tiacauh warriors began to march forward.

“We have no choice,” the Doctor said. “Try not to hurt anyone too badly but don’t let them do any harm to the village. Rhodes Island, deploy!”

“If you don’t mind,” Zumama said, stepping up next to Gavial and Ranma, “I’ll help out.”

“The more the merrier!” Ranma said. “Let’s go!”

Rhodes Island charged forward to meet the Tiacauh force. The first wave crashed into the Rhodes Island operators and broke against them. Ranma bobbed and weaved between Archosaurian bodies, throwing out a punch here, a kick there, each perfectly aimed for that single-blow knockout. Croissant’s hammer scythed through the attacking force like wheat.

Gavial and Zumama broke through the line first, however, hitting the second wave and scattering them apart. Zumama’s fists were, themselves, like hammers, needing only a single hit to put a warrior down and leave them unwilling to get back up for more. Gavial moved more elegantly, evading attacks and smacking her opponents equally with her feet and tail.

“Man, these guys are really pumped up to fight!” Blaze said with a laugh. “Maybe you should just give yourself up to them, Gavial!” She and Ceobe burst through the second wave, with Ceobe swinging her spear like a staff and knocking several of Tomimi’s warriors unconscious with a single blow. Blaze picked up the first warrior she reached and used him as a bludgeon on the next.

“S-So strong,” Tomimi whimpered. “But this is for Gavial… Keep going, everyone!”

Ranma burst through the first wave and landed among the second wave, joining Zumama by jumping atop a warrior about to strike her from behind. “No, ya don’t,” he said to the now-unconscious Tiacauh. “Not on my watch.”

“Thank you, Ranma,” Zumama said, giving him a sidelong glance.

The second line was faring no better as the Rhodes Island team barreled through them. The third line looked less certain as a united front met them—almost nothing left of the first and second waves and yet Rhodes Island had yet to see a single fighter go down.

“It feels a darn sight weird, doin’ this,” Croissant muttered. “Like we’re the bad guys takin’ Gavial away.”

“Yeah, but Tomimi’s got, like, this quality that makes you wanna steal something away from her,” Utage said, giggling wickedly.

“Yep, that just makes the baddiness all the badder!” Croissant complained.

“They’re not bad people,” Ceobe said, “so I don’t really want to hurt them…”

Nonetheless, Ranma charged forward with Gavial and Blaze, and the third wave held against that charge—as a whole, at least. Individually, the Tiacauh warriors were still falling en masse against them, made all the worse when Ceobe, Zumama, Utage, and Croissant joined the fray. Fists and feet flew with equal frenzy, leaving the third wave of warriors flat on the ground.

Only one last wave stood between them and Tomimi, whose eyes were wide and glistened with tears at the sight. “Call it off, now, Tomimi!” Gavial yelled.

Tomimi shook her head and the fourth wave charged.

“Alright, enough of this,” Ranma said, stepping forward. He held his hands out toward the incoming enemies, a blue glow shimmering around his body as he summoned his confidence. “Time for one hell of an explosive finish!”

“Hell, yeah! You got this, Ranma!” Gavial yelled. “Guys, cheer him on!”

“Woo! Go Striker!” Ceobe cheered.

“Blow ‘em to hell, Ranma!” Blaze cheered.

“Hey, ya got this, Ranma!” Croissant yelled.

Ranma’s confidence surged with the encouraging words, and the blue glow exploded in a blazing fire engulfing his form before it gathered in his cupped hands. “Moko Takabisha!” he yelled, a bolt of pure spiritual energy launching out of his hands. It struck the incoming line—or, rather, the ground at their feet—dead center, and the explosion launched them all back and over Tomimi’s head, bereft of consciousness.

“Wa… Waahhh…!” Tomimi cried, realizing there was nobody left between her and a very angry Gavial.

“It’s over, Tomimi,” Gavial said, beginning to stalk forward.

“Not… not yet!” Tomimi said, falling back. “Nurul! Peta!”

Two more Archosaurian men walked out of the rainforest, holding a length of rope tied to Dylan and Lancet-2. Dylan looked to be slightly roughed up, but was steady on his feet, while Lancet-2 was still wheeling on her own.

“Doctor!” both of them cried out on seeing the Rhodes Island crew.

“I-If you don’t want your friends getting hurt…” Tomimi began.

“Don’t make me angry, Tomimi!” Gavial growled, her fists clenching again.

“I won’t stop until you promise to stay!”

“Doctor, help!” Dylan said, looking up to meet the Doctor’s gaze.

“Doctor, I’m scared!” Lancet-2 cried out in a reasonable imitation of fear.

“Don’t worry, you two!” the Doctor said, reaching his hand out. “I’ll save you both!”

“Doctor!” Lancet-2 cried out again.

“Lancet-2!”

“Doctor!”

“Wow, they’re really selling it,” Ranma muttered, giving the Doctor a tired glance.

“What?” Tomimi whispered, turning.

Dylan wriggled his shoulders slightly and the rope tied around him slipped free, falling to the ground. “Sorry, someone should learn to tie a better knot,” Dylan said with a laugh. “Thanks for playing along, Doctor.”

“Wait, hold on… Doctor, did you know the entire time that Tomimi was planning this?” Gavial asked.

“Well, obviously,” the Doctor replied with a slightly hurt tone.

“But… but how?!” Tomimi exclaimed.

“It started with your hesitation when Zumama showed up at the ceremony.” The Doctor waited a moment for everyone to recall the relevant incident. “Of course, after that, you panicked at Gavial’s response during the ceremony. But there was one last thing… Dylan? Do you have it?”

“Ah, actually, I gave it to Lancet,” Dylan said, chuckling and rubbing at the back of his head.

“Th-This was just for your sake, Doctor,” Lancet said, a compartment popping open in her chassis and Dylan reaching inside. As the pilot pulled out a long tube with a pistol handle and attached optical sights, Lancet closed the compartment. “I don’t let just anyone put just anything inside me. Please keep that in mind, Striker.”

“Huh?” Ranma asked, blinking.

“Wait, is that… a rocket launcher?” Gavial asked, pointing.

“Yup. Found it with Tomimi’s tribe,” Dylan said, “which means…”

“Which means your psycho ex-girlfriend is the one who shot us down, Gavial,” Blaze concluded.

Gavial spared a leaden glare for Blaze before focusing her attention back on Tomimi. “Tomimi,” she said, motioning to the girl. “Come here.”

“I-I’m sorry, Gavial,” whimpered Tomimi with tear-filled eyes, walking over to stand in front of the medic operator.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it. You’re going over my knee.”

“P-Please don’t spank me,” Tomimi stammered tearfully, even as Gavial took the girl and bent her over. “I know what I did was wrong!”

“Them’s the breaks—naughty little whelps get the tail spankings!”

Ceobe winced as Gavial’s open palm began to fall on Tomimi’s tail, the smaller Archosaurian girl yelping with each blow. “Tail spanking? Looks ouchie,” she observed. Finally, the onslaught of punishment came to an end and Gavial set Tomimi back on her feet.

“Now, are you ever going to do something like that again?” Gavial demanded.

“No! Ne-never!” Tomimi blubbered, shaking her head as tears poured down her face. “I’ll ne-never do it agaaaiiin!”

“Good,” Gavial said with a relieved sigh, turning back to the others. “Alright, I think that’s about it, Doctor.”

“Quite the exhausting trip,” the Doctor said, his shoulders slumping slightly. “But, it’s good to wrap things up.”

Lancet-2 made a sound of surprise as she rolled over to the damaged Big Ugly. “Oh, my… What a rugged design… the wiring is cluttered but very effective… He’s quite handsome, really… Marriageable material right there,” she murmured, her lights briefly turning red.

Ranma blinked, sharing a look with Blaze. “The hell did I just hear?” he asked the Feline, who shrugged at him.

“Oh, hey, Lancet-2, the engine is inside that thing’s core. See if we can still salvage it,” Gavial said.

“Oh! Our engine’s in this big fellow? Poor thing… Mr. Dylan, would you kindly help me out?”

“Sure thing, Lancet,” Dylan replied, walking over.

Zumama made a choked sound, pointing at Lancet, then turned to Gavial and made another sound, still pointing. “Gavial! That… is… is that a talking machine?” she whispered, her voice high with excitement.

“Lancet? Yeah, she’s a friend of ours.”

“Can I… talk to her?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Zumama hurried over to Lancet, keeping a respectful distance but only just managing to not bounce on her heels like an excited child. She and Lancet-2 seemed to be enjoying a very spirited conversation, and Gavial scratched her head.

“What’s with her? Did a screw come loose?” Gavial wondered.

“I’d say she’s probably never seen a self-aware machine before,” Ranma replied dryly.

“Quite right!” the High Priest’s voice declared. “Shocked as she was when she first saw a nomadic city, the sight of a self-aware machine has left her excited beyond words! Honestly, I’m just as excited! I say, my lovely young lady, might I have the honor of taking you on a date?”

“Me?” Lancet asked.

“I know the most gorgeous spot in the rainforest!”

“Oh, oh, my… Doctor, what should I do?” Lancet asked, her running lights again turning red.

“I’ll never let you take my Lancet-2!” the Doctor declared fiercely, moving to stand between the robot and the bird.

“Oh, Doctor!” Lancet-2 gushed. “To hear you say those words… My heart isn’t ready!”

Zumama turned to Gavial and Ranma. “Gavial, Ranma… Those people you’re with, they can make something like this?”

“Yeah, Closure’s made like three or four of ‘em…” Ranma shrugged. “And Liv’s got her medical drone, which lets her heal someone remotely…”

“I want to join Rhodes Island,” Zumama declared immediately. “I want to learn more about these machines!”

“Wait, what?” Gavial blinked.

“I’ve thought about leaving to study in the outside world for a long time,” Zumama said. “But I’ve never had the chance to consider it because of the tribe… but I’d really like to!”

“Then I want to go, too!” Tomimi insisted. “Gavial, I can fight well, so I’d be an asset!”

“Doctor?” Gavial muttered. “A little help here?”

The Doctor shrugged, still standing protectively over Lancet-2. “May as well bring them home and give them the tests.”

A tug at Ranma’s jacket got his attention, and he turned to see Flint standing there, along with Blaze. The stocky Liberi girl pointed at him and then at Blaze, saying something in her tribal tongue.

“Er, she says she wants to come along, too,” Gavial said. The Doctor gave a brief nod, causing her to sigh. “Well, I guess that’ll make her your problem, Saotome.”

“Do me a favor and help her with Sargonian,” Ranma said.

“If I get to see the wonders of Rhodes Island, I’ll teach her any language you want,” Zumama replied.

“Though if everyone’s going… what about the tribes?” Gavial wondered.

“You weren’t worried about that when you left before,” the Doctor pointed out.

“I was seeing red back then—didn’t care about anything. It’s different now!”

“She’s right, though, I can’t just abandon my tribe,” Zumama fretted.

The High Priest crowed in amusement. “I think there’s nothing to worry about there,” he said, motioning with his wing to a few Archosaurian men of the Eunectes tribe.

“The Big Ugly was awesome!” one of them said, pumping his fists. “I wanna build one of my own!”

“Me, too!” another one said. “Maybe we can go with a drill weapon!”

“And whoever builds the best Big Ugly gets to be the next Great Chief!” the third man said.

“Fighting is way better!” a fourth one said, coming up and huffing.

“So what if we have the Big Uglies fight each other?” the second man suggested.

“That’s a great idea!”

“Common folk are always so quick to adapt, even while their leaders worry,” the High Priest said, flapping his wing. “The first Great Chief was just a Tiacauh Brave who gave himself a title. There was no Great Chief before that, nor any way of choosing one.”

“You’ve never told me this before,” Zumama said, narrowing her eyes.

“Because it wasn’t important. People get so caught up in their traditions and become so hidebound that something that started as just a way to get people together becomes some inviolable principle.” The High Priest shook his head in disappointment. “This was a chance to shake things up and get your people moving again, so I jumped in with both feet and both wings!”

“Well, that’s cool and all, but we still need a Great Chief,” Gavial muttered.

“Hey, there!” Inam’s voice called out as she walked up, carefully stepping over the unconscious bodies of Tomimi’s allies. “I heard Gavial and Zumama were fighting again. Did I already miss it?”

Gavial blinked, squinting at Inam, then turned with a smile to Zumama. “Say, Inam… How would you like to be the Great Chief?”

Inam blinked. “What?”

It was the first day after all the fighting when Shampoo showed up. Dylan, Lancet-2, and Eunectes were busy reinstalling the engine onto the Good Boy, and Flint was occupied with sparring Blaze, so Ranma was left without any convenient excuses to avoid her. With a sigh, he walked away from the others to have something resembling a private talk.

“I’m sorry, Ranma,” she said in Sargonian.

“For what, exactly?” he asked.

“A lot of things,” she admitted. “Mostly for not taking your feelings into consideration.”

“You sure didn’t,” he said with a sigh. “I never thought much about yours either so I guess I can’t be too mad.”

“I still love you. I still think I could make you happy,” she insisted. “I want a chance to prove I can.”

“There’s a lot I need to tell you. I’ve got a girlfriend, Shampoo. Someone from here.”

“I don’t care!” Shampoo yelled. She flinched back suddenly, turning away. “That’s not what I mean. I mean… it’s alright. I only cared about the other girls because I knew how tenuous my chances were. I knew you loved Akane. How couldn’t I? You went through so much to restore her memory. I knew if you picked her, I didn’t stand a chance…”

Ranma crossed his arms, waiting for Shampoo to get to the point.

“I just want a chance to prove I can make you happy,” Shampoo said. “Can’t you at least give me that?”

“I don’t think I can, Shampoo,” he said with a sigh. “I’m already happy. I have friends who support me, I’ve got a real job that pays well to help people, and I’m in a relationship that I can actually take at my own pace instead of bein’ stuck following everyone else’s lead.”

Shampoo was silent for a long moment, then stepped closer to Ranma, her hand reaching up to gently touch his face. “I never had a chance, did I? And it’s all my fault,” she murmured. “Stupid pride, jumping right to the kiss of death… Airen… I… I release you from our marriage, as promised.” She stepped back, lowering her hand and turning away. “I should go… I won’t bother you again, Ranma.”

“Hold on,” Ranma said with a sigh. “We can still be friends, you know. You could come back to Rhodes Island. They could use someone as strong as you.”

Shampoo blinked, turning to look over her shoulder. “You think so? They’d accept me even now?” she asked.

“Without question. We believe in second chances here at Rhodes Island. Hell, I’ll introduce you to the two girls who tried to kill me when we get back,” he said, walking toward the aircraft again.

Shampoo actually giggled at that as she followed. “Let me guess, now they want to marry you?” she asked.

“Er, I don’t think so?” he mumbled. “I might be wrong…”

The Doctor had no objections to Shampoo joining the group returning to Rhodes Island. In fact, in Ranma’s opinion, he was entirely too smug about the idea, as if he had expected it from the start. Can never get a read on that guy, Ranma thought to himself, grumbling.

Ranma stood at attention back aboard Rhodes Island. The others who had gone with Gavial to the jungles of Acahualla stood in line with him, and the new guests also stood in line. It had taken some time for Lancet and Dylan to reinstall the engine into the Good Boy, but Eunectes’s help sped things along. She and Gavial had also drilled Kemar—now Flint—in Sargonian, so the girl was at least proficient enough to express basic ideas in the language.

Unfortunately, he was slightly at the head of the group with Blaze, Gavial, and the Doctor as Kal’tsit debriefed them about the trip. “So, after all of that,” the Feline woman began, “you got the engine back, performed repairs, and came straight home?”

“Exactly,” he replied, trying to fight the nervous bead of sweat trying to run down his neck.

Kal’tsit turned her glare on the Doctor. “Doctor, I do believe I told you what a precious piece of equipment that aircraft was before you left,” she said.

“Wasn’t my fault,” the Doctor mumbled.

“Well, seeing as you were able to bring it home and it can still be repaired, I’ll go easy on you.” Kal’tsit tapped at her work tablet, and nodded. “The maintenance and repair costs will be coming out of yours, Blaze’s, and Striker’s pay.”

“Wait, mine?” Ranma muttered.

“And mine?” Blaze added.

“Elite Operators take elite responsibility.”

Ranma sighed, glad he had some savings set aside.

“As for the four you brought back,” Kal’tsit continued, eyeing Shampoo, Flint, Zumama, and Tomimi, “since you seem to think they have what it takes, I’ll leave administering the tests to the Doctor and Striker.” She cleared her throat, turning to Gavial. “Gavial, were you satisfied with your little trip?”

“Well, didn’t think it would go down like that, but yeah, it was fun.”

“Well, luckily I won’t have to use the contingency plan I had for if the Doctor failed to bring you back.”

“Huh?”

“You never really adapted to life in the outside world,” Kal’tsit explained. “To be honest, if someday you asked for a leave of absence or simply just vanished, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Gavial blinked, glancing at the Doctor. “Hey, Doc, am I crazy or is this just her way of saying she cares about me?”

“Maybe,” the hooded man replied a bit diffidently.

“Tch, that’s our Kal’tsit, confusing even the Doctor… Look, Kal’tsit, I’m not going anywhere. I like practicing medicine and that’s why I left the tribe, and my eyes are so open that I couldn’t possibly go back now.” Gavial shook her head at the idea, smiling. “If I’d stayed there, I wouldn’t know how many diseases can be cured or even prevented, I wouldn’t know how good it feels to save lives. Is there any better place in this whole world for me to study and practice medicine?”

“I’m afraid not,” Kal’tsit replied blandly.

“There, see?” Gavial said, grinning. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take Zumama and give her an Oripathy checkup.”

“I’ll give the others a quick tour and see about getting them a room,” Blaze said.

“Be quick about it, you’re late for a mission we had ready to go for you last week,” Kal’tsit replied. “Doctor, see to it that their paperwork is submitted and get them ready for their Operator testing.”

“I’ll go check in with the trainees, then,” Ranma said, beginning to head for the door.

“Not quite. There’s one other person you should check in with, first,” Kal’tsit reminded him.

He smiled at the thought, giving a wave over his shoulder.

“And that’s what went down,” Ranma finished, his arm around Cantabile. The dark-haired and slender Liberi woman leaned into him, eyes closed, as he recounted the tale of the trip. The two were sitting on a small sofa that he had managed to purchase and set up in his quarters.

“I feel sorry for Shampoo,” she said, her voice a low contralto. “I know what she must be giving up.” She opened her eyes, smiling up at him. “You were kinder to her than I would have been.”

“Maybe I just still have a soft spot for girls crying at me,” he quipped with a smile. He blinked as her hand came up to touch his cheek.

“Welcome home,” she said softly.

His smile widened as he touched her hand, taking it into his. “I’m home,” he said quietly to her.

Chapter Text

“I’ll miss you, oniichan,” Lisa—or, rather, Rhodes Island Operator Suzuran—said as she clung to Ranma in a goodbye hug.

“Hey, no tears, Lisa-chan, you’ll be back before you know it,” Ranma replied, patting the fox-tailed Vulpo on the back. She finally relinquished her hold on him and backed away to arms’ length, wiping at her eyes. “It’s your first mission. You should be excited!”

“I am!” Suzuran hurriedly promised. “But… I don’t know if I’m ready…”

“If the Doc and Kal’tsit think you’re ready, you’re ready,” Ranma said. “Besides, you’re not going alone. You’ve got Frostbunny and…” Ranma trailed off, glancing at the brunette with cat-like ears. “You know, I don’t think we ever met…”

“Folinic,” the woman replied, brushing a loose strand of her long hair over her shoulder. She offered Ranma a cool, professional smile. “It is nice to formally meet you face to face, Striker. I understand you’re responsible for training one of my teammates and capturing the other.”

“Yeah, but Frostbunny’s a badass and Suzuran’s awesome, too, so you’re in good hands,” Ranma quipped, giving the Feline woman a thumbs up.

“My codename is FrostNova, you ass,” Yelena replied as she stepped up to the group. The white-haired, rabbit-eared woman had finally been cleared for active duty by the medical team, and as such, she wore a white tactical jacket over a loose black shirt and fitted trousers. At her hip was a sword that Ranma vaguely remembered her carrying but never using when they fought. Finally, she had a choker on with three originium crystals—her Arts Unit, designed to focus her singing-based ice Arts.

“I like Frostbunny better.” Ranma grinned impishly at his former opponent for a moment, earning an annoyed glare, before his expression sobered. “You’ve got your medicine and all your emergency equipment?”

Yelena’s glare softened somewhat as she turned at the hip, revealing a backpack. “In addition to what I’m carrying, there’s already a cold storage supply aboard the aircraft for both my own needs and Lisa’s,” she said with a nod. “We have enough for half a year, if necessary.”

“Hopefully, it doesn’t come to that,” Folinic chimed in. “I’ll bring your girls home safe, Striker, no matter what’s going on in Wolumonde. Promise.”

Ranma decided he liked the Feline medic, and held his arm out, fist clenched. She tapped her fist against his with a smile, then turned to board the aircraft. Good Boy was still under repairs following being shot down and having its engine removed, so Folinic, FrostNova, and Suzuran were taking the Bad Guy instead. Ranma only had the barest inkling as to what was going on—something about a Leithanian town named Wolumonde and a missing Rhodes Island rep in the area—but he wished the three luck.

His PRTS terminal link beeped, pulling him out of his reverie and indicating an incoming call. He quickly fitted the earpiece and tapped on it. “Go for Striker,” he said.

“Striker, please report to vehicle bay 3,” PRTS’s voice sounded. “Priority request by Miss Amiya.”

“On my way,” Ranma replied, beginning to walk. He ducked into a maintenance hatch, slipping by a Rhodes Island engineering team member with a nod, and hopped onto a ladder to descend down to the vehicle bay levels. Most of the engineering team knew he would disturb nothing and stay out of their way, so they let him by without a word.

After he ducked out of the corresponding hatch on the vehicle bays’ deck, he realized he had a shadow. Smiling, he held out his left hand, and it was swiftly taken by a slender, feminine one in return. “Did you get called, too, or did you just decide to come see me?” he asked.

Cantabile’s contralto voice answered as she matched his pace. “I received a call, like you… but I decided to accompany you. I knew you’d be coming from the hangar after seeing Yelena off,” she said. Her high heeled shoes clicked on the deck as she walked alongside him, and he glanced over to take in the sight of her.

She was wearing an outfit not dissimilar to what she had worn on her first arrival aboard the landship, combining a flowing black dress over a white garment that hung over her shoulders like a cape. A red sash bound with a gold chain wrapped around her slender waist, drawing his eyes in a way that he knew was intentional on her part, especially since it inevitably led to him peeking at her legs in their dark stockings.

His face warmed slightly as she gave him a knowing smile, squeezing his hand with hers. “Whenever you’re ready, you only need to say so,” she whispered in a voice meant for his ears only. The “warming” turned to a burning flush that, indeed, reached his ears.

“Th-That’s a hell of a step for you to foist on me,” he muttered, glancing away as a bead of sweat worked its way down the back of his neck. “I dunno if I’ll ever be ready to say it.”

Cantabile stopped, her hand holding firmly to his and causing him to stop as well. As he turned to face her, she tilted her head slightly, her blue-black hair shining under the landship’s lighting. “You’ve faced down certain death at the hands of one of the fiercest warriors I know,” she said in her soft, contralto voice. “You led our team to victory after an ambush in Siesta. You’ve saved countless Infected lives.”

Her hand slipped free of his, and she caressed his face gently. He closed his eyes, unconsciously leaning into her touch as she continued. “Most importantly, you saved me. You gave me hope when all I had was despair,” she said. “You are, without question, the bravest man I know… and I adore you, Ranma Saotome. I know you will tell me when you’re ready.”

Ranma opened his eyes, meeting Cantabile’s as he did. Slowly, he leaned forward, and her arms moved around the back of his neck as his lips met hers. After a moment that felt like forever, he pulled away, smiling. “Thanks for understanding,” he said in a quiet voice.

“Of course,” she said, smiling as her arms slipped out from around him. She took his hand again. “We should get going, before Miss Amiya sends someone to find us.”

If Amiya thought that Ranma and Cantabile had unduly delayed their arrival at vehicle bay three, she said nothing of it. Nor did the familiar hooded and shrouded form of the Doctor mention it. Nabiki Tendo, wearing a snappy black pantsuit and with her hair in the familiar “helmet” style, adjusted a pair of glasses she had picked up since joining Rhodes Island, offering Ranma and Cantabile a knowing smirk.

“Thank you both for coming,” Amiya said, smiling at them. “You may not be aware of this, but Rhodes Island is currently en route to… well, we’ll brief you on that after we’re back from where we are going to be headed. Miss Nearl has already gone on ahead.”

Ranma raised his hand. “Gone on ahead to where?” he asked.

“Kawalerielki,” the Doctor replied. “The capital of the nation state of Kazimierz, and also the location of the Kazimierz Major.”

“The Major is a massive tournament that takes place every three years,” Cantabile explained to Ranma. “The competition knights who participate can earn considerable prestige and prize money.” She shook her head as both Ranma’s and Nabiki’s eyes gleamed—Ranma’s at the idea of a tournament and Nabiki’s at the idea of money. “It’s far too late to enter you into the current Major, and they would never accept you as one of the current Knightclubs, Ranma.”

“Maybe next time,” Ranma replied wistfully. He looked around, frowning. “Hey, wait, how did Nearl get ahead of us already? All the vehicles are here, Good Boy is still under repairs, and Bad Guy just left for Wolumonde.”

“She took the light express,” the Doctor quipped. Amiya simply rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, we’re going to the Grand Knight Territory to offer medical relief to the Infected there,” the bunny-eared girl said. “At least, that’s the official reason.”

“And the unofficial reason?” Cantabile asked.

“Best discussed en route, we’re already behind,” the Doctor said. “Ranma, you may see things you find reprehensible, given your code of honor and morality, when we arrive, especially among the Infected slums, which are little better than a ghetto.”

Recalling the fate of the Infected in Lungmen, Ranma scowled, his fists clenching.

“I may need to ask you to restrain yourself from immediate action,” the Doctor continued. “I repeat, immediate action. Rest assured that Rhodes Island will not merely sit idly by. If you believe you would be unable to restrain yourself, however… I won’t ask you to come with us.”

“Are we talkin’ ‘backwater Ursus villages’ bad, or ‘Lungmen slums that you wanted me kept out of at first’ bad?”

“We aren’t completely certain,” Amiya said, her expression falling slightly. “But we believe no worse than the latter, at least. Our intel in the Grand Knight Territory is not as good as we would like.”

“Then I should be able to hold myself back. If it gets too bad, I can always leave the city and start punching the ground.”

The Doctor nodded, opening the door to a large, armored, tracked vehicle. “Let’s get going, then,” he said as he climbed in. “We’ll be traveling in this. There is also a medical team that will be with us in another vehicle. Once we reach Kawalerielki, you will officially join their protective detail.”

Ranma nodded, stepping up to the enormous vehicle to climb in behind the Doctor.

Under the circumstances, Ranma was not sure if giggling was appropriate. It was a very serious mission that he was embarking on, and one in which he might be forced to be a little morally flexible. Still, he couldn’t help muffling a snort at the sight before him.

Rhodes Island Reserve Operations Team Alpha 4 was not an unexpected sight, at least. Ranma recognized them from the training classes he was heading up: their morose and withdrawn Captain, Melantha, sat in one of the seats with her Feline ears peeking out of her dark purple hair. Next to her and trying to engage her in conversation was the purple-eyed blonde Cardigan, the Perro girl’s dog-like ears perked up.

Across from them sat the white-haired and fox-like Caster, Steward, who chuckled at Melantha’s fate of being Cardigan’s conversational target. The slim young man sat next to one of the angelic Sankta, who also had white hair but whose golden halo sat cock-eyed near his head, rather than above it. The Sankta sniper in question, Adnachiel, looked equally relieved. The only one missing was the medical intern, Ansel, who Ranma assumed to be in the medical team’s vehicle.

But A4 was not the reason for Ranma’s chuckles. That was reserved for someone else: a woman, by Ranma’s reasonable estimation, who was seated several spaces away from the team. Her figure was somewhat covered by a bulky chrome breastplate and padded trousers that did not completely conceal certain attributes. She also had a full face-concealing helmet on as she kept her silent position. Clutched tightly in one hand was a straight-bladed sword that was nearly as long as she was tall, the scabbard carefully bound to prevent the sword from easily being drawn.

Ranma flopped into the seat next to the concealed woman, whose head lifted up momentarily at his arrival. He could sense almost palpable annoyance from under the helmet, which finally did him in, forcing him to cover his mouth against nearly a full minute of helpless snickering. “I’m so sorry, but that is the worst disguise they could possibly have given you,” he finally said as Cantabile sat down next to him.

“It wasn’t my idea,” the woman protested, her voice modulated as she looked away from him.

“The idea of a disguise, or this particular disguise?”

“This particular one.” The armored woman shook her head and sighed heavily. “Miss Closure came up with it.”

“They let you walk around before without a disguise,” Cantabile said, tilting her head. “Why conceal you now?”

“The last time was a fairly anonymous retreat, and also unlikely to be noticed,” the armored woman replied. “This time, I’m going out there as an Operator of Rhodes Island. They wanted to… minimize possible reactions, especially given the tensions between Kazimierz and Ursus.”

“Hell, if you think you can keep yourself under control, then the least I can do is match your example,” Ranma said. “So, what’s your codename?”

The annoyance he had sensed melted away as the woman almost slumped slightly. “I haven’t… come up with one yet.” She shook her head again. “And neither has anyone else.”

“We can brainstorm ideas on the way,” the Doctor suggested, sitting down across from Ranma and joined by Amiya. “But, first, we’re going to brief you three on the unofficial reason for our little… trip.”

Ranma nodded, focusing his attention on his employer as his expression turned serious.

Kawalerielki was, in Ranma’s opinion, much too bright and noisy. The massive nomadic city reminded him of Lungmen, and absolutely none of the comparison was in a positive light. He wondered if maybe he would think differently if not for running around for nearly 24 hours straight with Amiya, the Doctor, and the armored woman accompanying them.

Cantabile had already departed into the city on her own assignment that Ranma was not completely privy to. She only explained that the Doctor and Amiya had briefed her after he had fallen asleep at one point during the trip, then she promised she would be careful and that he would see her again when things had settled down. Then, she had departed, leaving Ranma and the armored woman to escort Amiya and the Doctor around to meeting after meeting.

At Amiya’s insistence, he wore his new face-concealing respirator to keep his identity at least partly hidden during the visit. He was introduced entirely by his codename and the official story was that he was there as the Doctor’s bodyguard, while the armored woman was introduced as a Sarkaz mercenary to act as Amiya’s bodyguard.

It had taken considerable restraint on Ranma’s part to not chortle at that when he first heard it.

Now, at least, they were finally stopping at a very luxurious, high-rise hotel. “Another meeting?” he asked Amiya as they approached the doors.

“No, this is where we’ll be staying,” Amiya said, sounding relieved. “I’m sure you’re just as eager to take that mask off as I am, Striker. Just a little bit longer.”

“Only because you’ve asked very nicely, little bunny,” Ranma grumbled. “I’m hungry, tired, and really looking forward to a shower.”

“At least it isn’t raining,” the Doctor offered.

Before Ranma could offer a biting retort to that, the front doors of the hotel slid open. An older blonde woman with piercing blue eyes stepped out, lips curling upward in a warm smile. The horse-like ears of a Kuranta sat atop her head, and a tail of the same swayed behind her as she approached. Her dark brown dress fit well on her, offset by the gauntlet on her left arm and the very military like medals on her chest, and at her hip was girded a long sword.

Those blue eyes swept over the Rhodes Island party, even briefly locking gazes with Ranma through the eye-pieces on his respirator. For just a moment, the woman’s smile seemed to turn grim before returning to the warmth she had shown originally. In that moment, Ranma decided that whoever this older woman was, he liked her, and he felt the familiar itch of wanting to spar against a strong opponent.

“Amiya, Doctor, welcome,” the blonde woman said, affecting a brief but respectful bow. “And these must be your bodyguards that you’ve brought with you.” As she straightened, her smile widened. “Please, treat this place as if it were your own home. The doctors are all working on the twelfth floor, and your own rooms are located upstairs.”

Despite the weariness she had to be feeling, Amiya still managed a formal curtsy. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, bowing her head.

The knightly woman gave a brief laugh. “My, my, there’s no need for such formalities,” she said, stepping aside to motion the Rhodes Island party inside. As she trailed behind them, she added, “I must say, Miss Amiya, I never expected the leader of Rhodes Island to be such a lovely, young Cautus girl. Ah, to be so young yet full of promise…”

“There’s really nothing special about me,” Amiya protested weakly, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“It’s true, Amiya’s the face of Rhodes Island,” the Doctor said, projecting none of the weariness he certainly had to be feeling.

“Little bunny is what keeps us all going,” Ranma chimed in.

“D-Doctor, Striker, that’s really too much,” Amiya said, clapping her hands to her cheeks to hide the growing blush.

“What an adorable beet-red hue,” the knightess said with another laugh. “Well, now. Let’s see to business so you four can finally be off your feet, yes? Gravel, come forward, please.”

An olive-skinned woman whose light pink hair reached her waist stepped forward out of a concealed door. Ranma’s hackles rose slightly—the way she moved spoke of a very dangerous individual. Her pink eyes swept over the Rhodes Island contingent even as Ranma’s eyes swept over her. She wore a white breastplate that Ranma assumed to be a rigid, reinforced plastic, but around her hips was a short black skirt. Calf-high boots and stockings somewhat covered her legs, and Ranma spotted a pair of long knives strapped to her thighs.

“Your orders,” she said in a quiet voice.

The knightess turned back to Rhodes Island, motioning to the new arrival. “This young lady here is a fourth-order campaign knight. She’s quite promising. You can call her ‘Gravel.’”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gravel said monotonously, affecting a brief bow.

“I don’t mean to sound as though your bodyguards are not up to the task,” the knightess continued, “but Gravel will personally take charge of your safety while you’re here in Kawalerielki. Should you need anything at all, let her know and it will be done. We cannot allow any misfortune to befall our distinguished guests from abroad, not to mention such excellent business partners as yourselves, during the Major.”

“We understand, sir,” Amiya said, bowing again. “Actually, this works to our purposes as well. Should any of our medical team need to venture out, Striker’s team can accompany them now.”

“Wonderful.” The knightess lightly brought her hands together. “Well, I’ve prattled on for quite long enough, and I thank you for your understanding and indulging me. I’ll take my leave of you. Gravel, see them to their apartments and take good care of them.”

Gravel nodded as the older knightess turned to leave. “As you wish. Well, please follow me,” she advised the Rhodes Islanders. A brief elevator ride later, and Gravel led the party to several doors in a lavish hallway. “Here are your apartments here. I’ll remain outside—if you should need anything at all, just call for me.”

“Don’t ask her for a spar, Striker,” the Doctor said immediately. “Business first, pleasure later.”

Even as Gravel blinked, Ranma turned to the Doctor. “How’d you know I was gonna—” He shook his head, cutting himself off. “Never mind, don’t answer that, I don’t think I’d like the answer.”

The armored figure accompanying them shook her head with a chuckle, the concealing helmet turning the short laugh hollow. “You already know the answer. We could all tell.”

“A spar?” Gravel asked. “You mean… an exhibition match, just for the sake of enjoying the contest of a fight against each other?”

“Striker is a combat enthusiast,” the Doctor explained. “He sees strong opponents and simply can’t help himself.”

Gravel paused to give Ranma a brief onceover, her stoic expression shifting into a slight smile. “I see. I don’t mind, if the opportunity comes up later.”

“Thank you for understanding, Miss Gravel,” Amiya said. She walked over to one of the apartment doors, turning the handle to open it. “In that case, I’m going to do what Striker suggested earlier—a shower and some sleep.”

“Good idea,” the Doctor said. “It’s been a very long day.”

“Pardon. Doctor, Striker,” Gravel’s voice chimed in. “There’s one other thing.”

Ranma blinked, pausing as he stood next to the Doctor, sharing a look with the hooded figure. “What is it?” he finally asked the pink-haired knight.

“Is it alright if I approached a little closer?” Gravel asked. As the two men nodded, Gravel walked up to them. “Yes… just like this,” she whispered. “Good.” Without another word, Gravel suddenly leaned into the Doctor’s personal space, her hands coming up to the Doctor’s face. Gently lifting the hooded shroud, she leaned forward enough that her lips touched his.

Without missing a beat, she put the hood back into place, turning to a stunned Ranma. Deftly pulling aside his mask, she stood up slightly on her toes to press her lips against his as well. Smiling as she fixed his mask back on, and not noticing the stunned look on Amiya’s face or the surprised posture by the armored woman that was just behind her, Gravel stepped back.

“What’s wrong?” Gravel asked. “Your faces are beet red. That’s just how I say hello, so don’t think too much about it. Anyway, I’m Gravel, a knight of Kazimierz. It’s a pleasure.” Her smile widened as she let out a soft giggle at the stupefied expressions on the Doctor’s and Ranma’s faces. Without another word, she turned and slipped out of the hallway.

“What—what was that about…?!” Amiya said in a small but shrill voice.

“She said it’s how she greets everyone,” the Doctor said, blinking under his hood, a gloved hand coming up to where his mouth would be.

“Well, I…” Amiya fumbled for her words, before nodding suddenly. “I’ve heard that nobles will sometimes greet each other with a kiss… and she’s a knight… so that must be it, then.”

“I’m goin’ to bed,” Ranma declared abruptly, turning to one of the doors and opening it. He stopped just inside the doorframe to glance over his shoulder. “Good night, guys. See ya in the mornin’.”

A chorus of “good night” from the other three followed him as he shut the door. With a weary sigh, he pulled his respirator mask the rest of the way off and looked around. The room had been called an “apartment” and, in Ranma’s opinion, that seemed like a bit of an understatement.

The entrance brought him to a small kitchenette, complete with a full-sized refrigerator and a two-burner stove. Adjacent to the kitchen area was a sitting or living space taking up a corner, with a massive entertainment center on one wall with a long table, sofa, and three chairs in front of it. On the other wall was a huge window—thankfully, with the blinds lowered and closed. Behind the sitting area was a dining table with four chairs.

Ranma shook his head at the luxurious environment, a rueful smile on his face. There were two other doors he had yet to go through, and he assumed that one was the bedroom and the other was the bathroom. A note on the refrigerator, held by a small magnet that looked like a horse’s head with three slashes behind it, advised him that the hotel’s main kitchen was always open and the number to call for food service.

Rubbing his hands together gleefully, he found the phone on the wall and dialed the number, placing an order for a fairly large meal. As a thought occurred to him, he ordered a second, less extravagant one. Assured that the staff would leave the food just inside his room while he bathed, he hurried to do exactly that.

After a refreshingly hot shower, he stepped out of the bathroom in just his shorts and an undershirt. The smell of hot food greeted him, and a smile formed on his face as he saw a certain familiar Liberi woman in the dining area, putting the finishing touches on laying everything out.

“They delivered it while you were in the shower,” Cantabile explained. “I thought you might like having it ready when you came out.”

“I do,” he said, walking over. “You didn’t have to, though.”

“I was able to eat a few hours ago, and I’ve gotten some sleep already,” she said, putting a gentle hand on his face. “You, however, have been up and working for the entire past day. The least I can do is this.”

Ranma almost wanted to sag in relief, his hand coming up to cover hers. “You’re gonna spoil me at this rate.”

“Maybe that’s what I want to do,” she suggested with a teasing smile. “Fill what I can of your days with spoiling, lavish affection so that you end up wanting for nothing.”

The mention of “affection” caused him to flinch as he remembered how a certain knight had greeted him. “That, uh, reminds me… The old lady runnin’ this place—”

“Grand Knight Ioleta Russel, of the Adeptus Sprawiedliwi Kazimierz,” Cantabile recited almost automatically.

Ranma blinked, then nodded, filing the name away for later. “She assigned a knight to us from her staff… a ‘fourth order campaign knight,’ whatever that means, named Gravel.”

“I saw her on the way in. She’s pretty. Her hair reminds me a bit of Miss Ceylon—at least, in color.”

“Uh, right, a-anyway… um… Gravel kinda… well, she kissed the Doc and me…” He hurriedly held up his hands defensively. “She said it’s how she greets people!”

Cantabile blinked, raising both eyebrows. “I’m not surprised she would kiss you. Did you see the bar code on her arm? Sir Russel may not keep her as such, but that means she is or was chattel—a slave. You being you, I imagine she was stunned that you treated her as a person rather than as an object.”

“You’re not mad?” Ranma said, lowering his hands.

“You said that she kissed you, not that you kissed her,” Cantabile pointed out. “I trust that you would have told me if it were the other way around as well.” She paused, considering it. “Did you enjoy it?”

“H-Huh?”

“When she kissed you,” Cantabile clarified, as if that were the question. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Wh-Why would I enjoy it?”

“Because Gravel is a very pretty girl. I think she’d be disappointed if you didn’t enjoy it.”

“A-Are you… are you makin’ fun of me, Canta-chan?”

To his surprise, Cantabile actually smiled. “No, I’m having a bit of teasing fun at your expense. It’s… heartwarming… to see how flustered and worried about my responses you are. I don’t mind if you did enjoy it—it would only be natural. Would you prefer it if I kissed you?”

“I would, yeah!” Ranma blurted out. Immediately, her lips pressed to his as her hand moved to the back of his neck. Making a surprised sound, Ranma blinked, his arms moving around Cantabile’s slender frame. His eyes widened as her tongue, for a brief moment, slipped into his mouth to brush against his, and then she slowly pulled away, smiling at the bright red flush on his face. “You… you are completely unlike any other girl I’ve ever known,” he said.

“Given the stories Miss Tendo has told me of the girls you know, I consider that a good thing,” she replied. “I doubt if any of the girls you knew have the history that I have…”

“They don’t, but it’s alright,” Ranma said, taking Cantabile’s hands. “Your history doesn’t bother me. I told you that. I meant what I said.” Seeing her smile return, he glanced at the food on the dining table. “Let’s eat, huh?”

Ranma’s eyes fluttered awake. A stifled groan tried to work its way out of him as he fought a slightly stiff back. The mattress is too soft, he grumbled mentally. His eyes darted over to the clock on the nearby nightstand, which read 8:37.

Sitting up with another stifled groan, Ranma stretched his arms over his head, twisting back and forth and feeling several tension-relieving pops. “There we go,” he muttered. “Wonder if that Ioleta lady would be offended if I asked for a firmer mattress…”

Seeing he was alone again, Ranma swiftly went through his morning routine, finding a hand-written note from Cantabile explaining that she had left again after he fell asleep to return to her assignment but that she looked forward to seeing him again soon. He tucked the note away in his pocket with a smile, putting in his radio earpiece.

“Good morning, Striker,” PRTS chimed in tonelessly.

“Morning, PRTS. Any change to my assignment this morning?” he asked.

“Affirmative,” the computerized voice replied. “Gravel has been assigned to bodyguard duty for the Doctor. Once you have eaten breakfast, you are to accompany the medical team into the slums.”

“Copy that,” he murmured.

“Additional orders to follow.”

Ranma raised an eyebrow at that. Additional orders? he wondered. “Well, I already ate breakfast and I’m ready to go, so I guess I’ll meet the medical team. Can you send a message to them and give me directions to where they’re staying?”

He held up the personal terminal link, watching as the screen lit up with a map of Kawalerielki, a line drawn from his current location to his destination. “Message sent,” PRTS replied. “I have also informed the Doctor and Amiya of your impending departure.”

“What about number four?” Ranma quipped, thinking of a certain armored figure.

“She will be joining you with the medical team. She has already departed to link up with them.”

Ranma nodded to that. “Alright, then,” he said, slipping the terminal link into his pocket. He went to the door, stepping out and coming face to face with Gravel, who stood across the hallway between the two apartment doors on that side.

“Heading out, Striker?” Gravel asked.

“Yep, I’m on assignment,” he replied, shutting his door. “Dunno when I’ll be back so you might not see me much today.”

“Please tell your pretty friend that she can simply come in the front door next time,” Gravel said with a slightly mischievous smile. “I would like to meet her myself. I hope my little greeting didn’t cause too much trouble.”

Ranma blushed slightly, rubbing at the back of his head. “S-Sure, right,” he muttered. “No, it’s fine. Oh, before I go and forget… I don’t wanna impose too much, but…”

“It’s no imposition. Whatever you would like, I’ll be glad to assist.”

“Well, it’s the mattress… It’s too soft. Would I be able to get a firmer one?”

“Of course.” Gravel bowed her head slightly before smiling at Ranma again. “I’ll speak with Sir Russel and have it taken care of by this afternoon.”

Ranma nodded again, still rubbing at the back of his head. “Thanks… See you around.”

Ranma was utterly convinced that walking along the streets was one of the worst ways to travel, especially in a huge city like Kawalerielki. Hiring a car, however, was not something that occurred to him—at least, not in the sense that it was something he wanted to do. Instead, as soon as he was outside, he crouched slightly to flex his legs and leapt up to the roof of the building across from the hotel.

As surprised as he was to see someone standing on that opposite roof, that person seemed equally surprised to see Ranma about to land on—her, Ranma mentally assessed. The woman’s snow-white hair had a Kuranta’s horselike ears poking through from the top of her head, and her golden eyes stared up at him in surprise as he descended. Instinct seemed to take over, and she clutched her heavy black compound bow tightly as she rolled to a clear space on the roof.

The roofing shingles clattered under her, but Ranma’s landing was completely silent as he stared wide-eyed at the woman. “I’m so sorry!” he said immediately, bowing to her. “I had no idea someone was up here, total accident! Are you al—” His hand snapped up at the same time the sound of a bowstring thrummed through the air, catching an arrow centimeters from his head. “—right? That was kinda rude, this was an accident,” he muttered, looking at the arrow.

The white haired woman stared at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. For a moment, her eyes darted to the bow in her hand, then the arrow in Ranma’s. “That… was an accident,” she said lamely. “Or reflex? Reflexive accident. Accidental reflex.” She looked up to meet Ranma’s eyes, her expression otherwise blank. Idly, Ranma made note of the white tunic and cloak she wore.

He shrugged, holding the arrow back out. “No harm, no foul. If you forgive me for nearly landing on you, I’ll forgive you for the arrow.” As she took the arrow back, he smiled. “Ranma Saotome. Sorry about this.”

Her head tilted to the side, her expression unchanging. For a long moment, she was silent, and Ranma felt as if she were sizing him up simply by looking into his eyes. “Centaurea,” she finally said, slipping the arrow back into her quiver. “How did you get up here, anyway?”

“I jumped.”

Centaurea’s tone went as flat as her expression. “You jumped.”

“I jumped,” Ranma repeated, nodding. “And speakin’ of jumping, I’ve got a lot more I need to get to. I’m supposed to meet some folks. Hey, you gonna hang around here a lot?”

“Maybe,” Centaurea replied, looking away.

“Cool! I’ll probably be back around dinner time so I’ll say hi if you’re here when I swing by.” Ranma began jogging for the far edge of the roof. “See you around, Snow White!”

Centaurea’s voice called out in a “Wait—!” as he approached the edge, but he was already committed and leapt across the gap to the next building, continuing on his way.

The Armorless Union assassin sometimes known as “the Platinum” gaped in the odd stranger’s wake as he leapt across the street as easily as she might walk across it. Her free hand was still outstretched toward him in a facsimile of concern—though she certainly had no wish to see him fall to the streets. That concern was wasted, it seemed.

Ranma Saotome had claimed to have jumped up to her level and Centaurea believed him now. He had come out of the hotel where her target was staying and then jumped onto the roof with her. She shook her head to dispel the lingering disbelief. The facts were what they were and living in any kind of denial was a waste of time and effort.

She would need to find a new observation post. Even if she wouldn’t necessarily mind seeing him again, he had some association to her target. She couldn’t afford the complication.

Her head suddenly snapped up and annoyance crossed her face. “Wait, what did he call me?”

The medical team had been put up at a different hotel that was a little less luxurious than the one the Doctor’s group was staying at. As Amiya had explained while on the way, that was to make it less likely for some unscrupulous persons to deal a crippling blow to Rhodes Island’s interests by hitting both groups with a single strike. Ranma frowned at the idea of someone deliberately attacking people who were only there to offer medical treatment.

He landed, ghostlike, atop the hotel, looking around. A gleam of metal caught his eye, and he spotted the familiar armored and helmeted figure standing on the sidewalk among a collection of others. A brief sweep of the others around her confirmed several people in the white tunics of Rhodes Island’s medical divisions, complete with the “rook” chess piece insignia. He hopped over to that side of the building, then dropped off the roof to silently land behind the armored figure.

“Hey,” he said, immediately ducking as the armored woman spun around and swung her sheathed sword at him. The massive weapon passed through the space previously occupied by his head, and Ranma glanced up at it. “Man, everyone’s touchy this morning.”

“You could try not sneaking up on people,” the armored woman replied, the acid in her tone evident even through the voice modulation. “What if my sword had been drawn?”

“I would have dodged faster,” Ranma replied, standing. “C’mon, you wouldn’t have killed me for just sneaking up on you.”

The armored woman shook her head with a sigh. “Killed? No, probably not,” she admitted. “Knock you on the head for your sense of humor? That option is still on the table.”

“Sure, but that would just be a good fight.” Ranma grinned, slipping his hands into his pockets. “But something tells me the little bunny wouldn’t like us doing that.”

“Probably not.” There was a pause as the armored woman looked Ranma over. “Where is your mask?”

Ranma blinked. “Oh, right,” he muttered, pulling his combination respirator and face-mask out of his jacket and fixing it into place. “Forgot to put it on before I left. No big deal.”

“‘No big deal’ except that you and I rather famously have our images all over Ursus thanks to the Chernobog incident,” the armored woman replied in a weary tone.

“A little more you than me in that one,” Ranma pointed out. “You were famous before Chernobog.”

“And then you fought me to a near standstill twice.” There was a distinct sense of a smirk in the woman’s voice now. “Not to mention showing up working alongside myself and a rather famous Ursusian General in Siesta. The Emperor’s reach may not go as far as Siesta, but he can try to reach us here in Kawalerielki.”

“And if he does, we’ll kick his ass,” Ranma asserted, crossing his arms. “You can take one half, I’ll get the other half.”

“Half of his ass?” the armored woman asked, crossing her arms.

“You know what I mean.”

The armored woman shook her head with another sigh. “You’re impossible,” she finally said. Despite the slight vocal modulation, Ranma almost swore he heard a smile in her words. “Hopefully, the transport gets here soon. Otherwise, I might have to take you up on that ‘good fight.’”

“Hey,” one of the medics said. She pointed up at one of the many TV screens that dotted the buildings around the area. “What’s going on in that match?!”

Ranma and the armored woman turned to look up at the TV. The unsteady footage was zoomed in on what looked, to Ranma, like a martial tournament match, which lined up with what little he understood about the Kazimierz Major. Unlike any such match he would expect, however, the footage on screen was focused on one fighter—an armored knight wielding a sword and with scuffed and worn steel armor—fighting several other knights. “Fighting,” Ranma realized, was the wrong term, however.

They were beating him.

The leader of the mob wore a white tabard over his own heavy armor, but the white was stained red. In his hand was a heavy axe that he was using to savagely attack the lone knight in the middle of the mob, who was clearly in no shape to keep fighting despite his desperate attempts to get back up. When the axe-wielding leader stepped back, the other knights took their turn walking up to kick the lone knight while he was down. Ranma’s eyes widened as he saw black spots through the damage done to the lone knight’s armor.

“He’s Infected!” the armored woman next to him seethed. Immediately, his hand went onto her shoulder. He knew that if she wanted to tear off to wherever this was happening, his hand on her shoulder would only mean going with her, but he had to try.

“It’s too late,” he said quietly. “Even Saria and Livs working together couldn’t save him. Look at what they’ve already done.”

She turned to face him, then paused. After a moment, she turned back to look at the screen, then nodded, hanging her head. “Something needs to be done,” she finally said.

“Oh, trust me,” Ranma added in a low voice, “if I see that jackass with the axe, he’s getting an express trip outta Kawalerielki.”

“I meant about the state of the Infected here,” the armored woman said. She tilted her head slightly toward him. “But I appreciate your commitment to avenging him, too,” she admitted quietly. “I would prefer to not go to a… violent extreme.”

“Don’t worry about it. Save your violence for when you need it,” Ranma replied. He smiled grimly under his mask. “And when you just want someone beat senseless for being an asshole, that’s where I come in.”

The attacking knight on the screen raised his axe what what was surely a killing blow, as the Infected knight on the ground was completely unable to defend himself, and the footage on the screen abruptly cut out to a blank blue screen. The words “Technical difficulties, please stand by” appeared on the screen and Ranma snorted dismissively. Technical difficulties my ass, he thought. But I guess they can’t just show a murder on live TV at least.

“I need to talk to Nearl and soon,” he muttered.

The armored woman shook her head. “Later. The transports are here, finally.”

Ranma let out a sigh as he saw the trucks and cars rolling up. “If they’re that comfortable showing everything but the killing blow of an Infected knight on TV,” he said, “it’s gonna be bad. You gonna be able to handle it?”

“I have to,” she replied. “I must be able to look into this darkness and not succumb to it again.” She paused in her speech, then stepped closer to Ranma, suddenly taking his hand in hers. “But, perhaps, I must rely on your support… on you to be a guiding light for me.” Her grip tightened slightly on his hand. “And, if necessary… to be the one who can stop me.”

He moved his mask aside to give her a wry smile. “I dunno. If it’s really that bad, maybe I’ll just let you go off. They might deserve it.” She left her helmet on, turning slowly toward him. The blank face of her helmet, together with her silence, told him how little she appreciated the “joke.” “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, alright, Tal-chan?”

Deep in the heavy armor that had been fashioned for her, Talulah gave a heavy sigh, then straightened. “I trust your judgment,” she said. “You won’t lead me astray.”

During the crisis with the Reunion movement in Lungmen, Ranma had been kept out of Lungmen’s slums. It had apparently been a concern of Rhodes Island leadership that he would launch some unprovoked assault on Lungmen’s leader, Chief Wei Yen-Wu, if he saw how badly the poor and Infected were treated. At the time, Ranma had been angry with the deception, though more recently he had somewhat settled into his role as an instructor. It helped having eager, dedicated students and competent coworkers like Dobermann and Dur-nar.

Seeing the state of the slums that surrounded Kawalerielki’s “area zero,” a plate of the nomadic city dedicated to triage and treatment of the Infected, Ranma was feeling pretty fairly provoked. Ranma had seen more dilapidated living conditions in the backwoods of China and among the Eunectes tribe of Acahuallah… but not by much.

Ops Reserve Team A4 was helping the medical teams to set up as their captain, Melantha, supervised. The Feline captain, who had taken to tying her dark purple hair back recently during her training in Ranma’s classes, had advised Ranma and Talulah that her team would secure the area. That left Ranma alone with the heavily armored Draco and to their own devices as a result.

He pulled out his PRTS link, looking at the screen. “Alright, PRTS, we’re at area zero. You said there were additional orders?”

“Affirmative,” the computerized voice replied. Based on the slight tilt of Talulah’s head, the computer was probably speaking in her helmet as well. The terminal link’s touchscreen display illuminated, and Ranma and Talulah watched as it began to display a map of their area. “Rhodes Island requires eyes on the ground in the Infected slums of the Grand Knight Territory. Your objective is information gathering: Scout the slums while encouraging residents to visit the triage facility at the area zero plate. If possible, inquire as to the current state of relations between Infected and non-Infected.”

Ranma snorted in slight disgust. “We just watched a bunch of knights gang up on and murder an Infected knight in their stupid tournament. I think we have a pretty good idea already of the ‘state of relations.’”

“Understood. I will pass this information to the Doctor and Miss Amiya. Please continue with inquiries but if tensions are already high, do not risk further escalation.”

“Got it. Hear that, Tal-chan? No starting a riot.”

“I’ll try to contain myself,” Talulah replied dryly.

“Anything else, PRTS?” Ranma asked.

The terminal gave a brief hum. “That is all for now, though your orders may change rapidly. I will keep you briefed.”

“Right.” Ranma slipped the link back into his pocket, turning to Talulah. “Alright, let’s have a looksie.”

Truth be told, Ranma had not expected a particularly warm reception, even with the rook icon of Rhodes Island on his jacket and Talulah’s surcoat. Many of the Infected in the slums were still raw over the death of the Knight that had just recently happened. What little they were able to piece together was that he was a member of the “Pinus Sylvestris,” a local Knightclub—local to the slums, that is—and that his name was “Jamie.”

As Ranma suspected, there was no need to inquire about relations with non-Infected. The slums were a barely-contained, simmering cauldron of rage, ready to boil over if things were not corrected and soon. They were taking a break, and Talulah had partly removed her helmet to drink some water, when she let out a sudden and frustrated sigh.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Ranma muttered, drinking from his own water bottle. Talulah had not actually said anything, but he had a feeling—

“All I can think is the damage Reunion would have done if we had come here instead of to Lungmen. The catastrophic harm we could have caused if my so-called ‘father’ had not been so hellbent on revenge.” Talulah shook her head in frustration and Ranma nodded grimly—just as he had thought. “The slums here are just as much a tinderbox as Lungmen.”

“Probably just as much in any nomadic city in Sargon, Victoria, Leithanian,” Ranma pointed out, trying to remember the names of other Terran countries. He was getting better but it was not quite second nature for him. “Hell, it’s no better anywhere on this planet, I’d bet. And it’s not just Infected vs. uninfected but that sure doesn’t help that there’s a convenient scapegoat.”

Talulah looked a bit surprised at his sharp reply, then took a deep breath to let out another, quieter sigh. “You’re right. And that’s why Rhodes Island is here now, isn’t it? The Doctor has some sort of plan.”

“The Doc, or the little bunny, or Doc K,” Ranma replied with a nod. “What the plan is, I dunno. But we’re here for it. We’re here to help.”

Talulah finished off her water, dropping the bottle in a nearby garbage can. “What was it you like to say? Something about the first duty of a martial artist?”

“To defend the weak,” Ranma replied. “That’s the first duty.”

Talulah nodded, fixing her helmet back into place. “That should be the first duty of the strong. Whether they’re a martial artist, or a knight, or an exiled noble: the first duty of the strong is the protection and guidance of the weak.”

Ranma gave a chuckle as he finished his water, fixing his own mask back on. “I could get behind that,” he replied.

Another hour of roaming the slums only resulted in being turned away by the late Jamie’s Knightclub, who were still in mourning of their friend. The apparent leader, a girl named Sona with flaming red hair and an equally red squirrel tail, had been receptive to an overture from Rhodes Island, and promised to spread the word about the triage center, but certain arrangements for their fallen comrade came first.

PRTS released them from their orders shortly thereafter, directing them out of the slums and onto a high-speed transit line that took them to a nicer district. “What’s our objective here, PRTS?” Ranma asked as they stepped back onto the sidewalk.

“Lunch. You have been on the clock for approximately five hours and are overdue.” PRTS paused and the terminal link displayed a numeric graphic with the number 500 over an icon for the Lungmen dollar. “Doctor Kal’tsit has budgeted 500 LMD to your meal allowance for today, since you are unable to take advantage of room service while outside of the hotel.”

Talulah brought a hand up to her helmet as if to stifle the sudden burst of laughter that came out of her. “500 LMD? Are you a bottomless pit, Striker?” she asked him as she got her amusement under control.

“Maybe we’re just in an expensive district,” Ranma grumbled in lieu of a direct answer. The truth was, he was getting fairly hungry.

A combination of signage, a few questions of the locals, and an appetizing aroma led the Rhodes Island pair through a set of double doors under a sign that read “Scarly Martin.” The interior seemed like a mix of bar and tavern—a long L-shaped counter with stools dominated the floorspace near the back walls, but the exterior walls had several booths with double benches, and Ranma saw several people eating sandwiches and fries in the booths.

A glance at the bar saw a man with long blue hair accepting a plate of fries from the man behind the bar, who had an eyepatch and prosthetic left arm. Seeing Ranma and Talulah enter, the bald bartender waved them over to the bar as he left the blue-haired man behind. “Hey! Welcome to the Scarly Martin,” he said as they approached. “What can I get you folks?”

“I recommend the fries,” the blue-haired man said, smiling at Ranma and Talulah in a way that Ranma found himself immediately disliking for some reason. “Whoever had the idea for slicing a tater like that and then frying it should be canonized, if you ask me.”

“Don’t go chasing off my new customers,” the bald man said. “But the fries are good,” he admitted in a quieter tone as Ranma and Talulah sat down. “They go better with a sandwich.”

“Got a menu we can look at?” Ranma asked, putting the blue-haired man out of his mind. In response, the bald bartender jerked a thumb up and over his shoulder, directing Ranma and Talulah to an older-style menu with letters placed in front of flourescent lighting. It only took a minute for Ranma and Talulah to decide on and place their orders—with Ranma’s being significantly larger.

“You got it,” the bald man said. He gave the pair a considering once-over, then smiled slightly. “Name’s Marcin. You two new in the Grand Knight Territory?”

Not seeing any purpose to a lie, Ranma nodded.

“My place sees all kinds of interesting folk, but it’s not that often we see warriors of your caliber,” Marcin continued. “And you’re from Rhodes Island. I recognize that symbol on your jacket. Are you two friends with the Radiant Knight?”

Ranma blinked, but nodded. “Yeah, Margaret’s a good friend of mine,” he said, glancing at Talulah, who shook her head. “Well, mine, at least. Tal-chan over here has barely met her.”

Marcin nodded as if he expected this. “Well, right over there,” he said, tilting his head toward a nearby booth, “is some… family of hers. You go introduce yourselves to them. I bet they’d like to meet a friend of Margaret’s. I’ll bring the food out once it’s ready.” He stepped away at that, heading to the door leading into the back.

Ranma turned to the booth the bald man had indicated, seeing a pair of Kuranta women with a familiar shade of golden hair and blue eyes. One was wearing a white surcoat but also carried a sword and shield on her back. Even at just a glance, Ranma would be able to see the close family resemblance she bore to Nearl. The other one also carried a sword and was wearing a brown dress that clung to some very generous curves, its hem terminating just above mid-thigh. Her resemblance was not quite so obvious but Ranma guessed she was not as directly related.

“Definitely Nearl’s family,” he said to Talulah. She shrugged blankly at him, and he shook his head with a chuckle. “C’mon, let’s go introduce ourselves.” Stepping away from the bar, he removed his mask and started to walk toward the two women. The woman in the dress looked up first, raising a curious eyebrow as Ranma approached.

“Well, hello there, handsome,” she said in a bright voice that had an oddly breathy accent Ranma was not quite able to place. Her eyes slowly looked him over from head to toe. “My, my. Black hair in a braid, blue eyes, no visible tells for your race… and a Rhodes Island sigil on your jacket.” She made a show of thinking intently about him before she snapped her fingers. “Ranma Saotome!” she said, pointing. “Margaret didn’t mention, however, just how handsome you were,” she added, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Zofia!” the other woman present hissed before sighing in exasperation. She turned to look at Ranma, blinking at him. “Though now that you mention it,” she murmured as a slight blush colored her cheeks.

“Right?” Zofia chuckled. She held a gloved hand out to Ranma. “Zofia,” she said. She motioned with her free hand as Ranma took the offered one. “And this is Maria.”

Ranma shook the woman’s hand with a rueful expression. “Ranma Saotome, but you already knew that.”

Zofia motioned to the booth, sliding in next to Maria. “Please, have a seat. Join us.”

Ranma sat down first, with Talulah sitting down in the booth next to him. “So I’m guessing you two are Margaret’s… sisters? Cousins of similarly close age?” he hazarded.

“Darling boy,” Zofia murmured with a chuckle that she covered behind one hand. “I consider myself to be their sister, though Maria actually is.”

“She’s actually our aunt,” Maria said in a normal tone, allowing Ranma to hear her own bright voice quite clearly. “But just by technicality.”

“Yeah, I obviously would have guessed sister,” Ranma replied. “And you’re both fighters…” He glanced at Maria, then shrugged slightly. “You less than her. Sorry.”

Maria shook her head, smiling. “No, that’s true. I can fight if I need to, but I have to admit that I’m not very fond of it. I prefer to… tinker. Like, Kowal and I worked on Margaret’s new weapon!”

“You’d likely get along with Closure and Vulcan if you ever had the chance to meet them,” Talulah remarked.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Zofia chimed in, straightening. She held a hand out to Talulah. “Sorry, I’m Zofia, as you’ve already heard. And this is Maria. Are you one of the competition knights? I didn’t think Rhodes Island had their own knightclub.”

“Tal,” Talulah replied, shaking Zofia’s hand. “And, no, the armor…” Talulah shook her head. “It’s to restrain me. I’m still working on earning Rhodes Island’s trust, exactly.” She lifted her head to focus on Zofia directly. “Zofia, the Whislash Knight. You’re quite famous, even where I’m from.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me, have you?” Zofia asked, putting a hand on her chest and winking at Ranma. “I used to compete in the Major. I made quite a name for myself before my injury.”

“She was in the top sixteen for every competition she participated in, with unbroken winning streaks each time,” Talulah explained to Ranma, who nodded with a low whistle. “Unfortunately, there was an incident in which her left hand was badly injured during her last competition, so she was forced to step down from participating. Still, her time as a campaign knight was quite lucrative.” She suddenly lifted a gauntleted hand and pointed into Ranma’s face. “No asking her to spar.”

Ranma’s jaw briefly hung open. “How’d you—?!” His mouth snapped shut as he briefly glared, then pouted, at her before turning away.

“He always asks,” Talulah explained to Zofia. “He enjoys testing himself against powerful opponents.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” Ranma protested, turning to face her again. “It’s not like I pick fights, I just ask if people wanna spar!”

“It’s like foreplay for him,” Talulah added as if Ranma had not spoken. “It would be cute if it weren’t so constant.”

Ranma glared at the armored Draco. “I’m right here, you know.”

“Indeed you are.”

“Well,” Zofia said, clearing her throat. “Margaret has told us all about her friend and sparring partner. In fact, she attributes her growth as a warrior to your skills. I have to admit…” She paused, once again eyeing Ranma with a smile. “I’d certainly enjoy seeing you in action.”

“Zofia, please,” Maria said in a strained voice. “I’m right here. If you’re going to insist on hitting on the young man, Tal and I can find a different table to sit at.”

“I can behave… while we’re here in public, at least.” Zofia smirked at the slight flush that Ranma felt creeping up his face. “Perhaps we could invite him back home. Margaret might be glad to see you after her matches today.” She paused, eyebrows climbing on her face as a waitress from the bar slid a pair of platters onto the table in front of Ranma and Talulah. “Big eater, I see,” she said, smiling widely at Ranma.

“Zofia—!” Maria hissed to her aunt.

Ranma paid no mind as he picked up the main attraction of his dish. It was one of four half-sandwiches in what looked like rye bread, with thinly sliced beef that was dripping with a fragrant sauce and a melted white cheese, and he began to hungrily tear bites out of it. He took enough care, at least, to not be seen as eating messily, keeping the drip of the sweet, tangy sauce limited to landing on his fries.

Talulah removed her helmet with a heavy sigh, setting it on the table. She had ordered only one of the same kind of sandwich, where Ranma had ordered two, and she had a smaller order of fries. Still, as she took a bite, she smiled. “It’s delicious,” she murmured.

“The little bunny would love these, we gotta tell her about this place,” Ranma agreed. In the time it had taken Talulah to eat a few bites, he had already finished one of the sandwich halves and was working on the next one. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the blue-haired man glance their way before starting to stare very intently at the door. What’s he— Ranma wondered, before tensing.

Battle aura. That was how Ranma used to describe the sensation of powerful, hostile intent from a strong fighter who was seeking a fight. The sensation he felt crawling up his spine was not done justice by the words. The sensation of overwhelming bloodlust gave Ranma flashbacks to facing off against the woman sitting next to him… her mind silent and body succumbed to the will of an evil spirit who sought to utterly break him.

A massive figure stepped through the door, his heavy boots thudding heavily on the floor. Ranma took in the sight of him at a glance—likely to tower over many of the people in Ranma’s life, his head was covered by a gleaming crimson helmet, though the rest of his armor was unpainted steel or undyed fur and leather. His armor reminded Ranma almost of a samurai’s in aesthetic design, with a hauberk of metal splints over his chest and draping down over his thighs. He also wore a heavy, fur-lined cape over his back, and in his gauntleted hand, he gripped a spear-like polearm that made Ranma think of a naginata—resembling nothing so much as a curved saber on the end of a pole.

Quietly continuing to eat, Ranma nudged Talulah’s leg with his knee, and she nodded. Pretending to focus on his food, Ranma kept the armored figure in the corner of his eye. The huge man approached a pair of older men sitting at the bar and engaged one—a Kuranta man with a blue surcoat over his heavy suit of armor—in conversation. At this distance, Ranma could only make out scant traces of conversation but it was a language he had yet to learn. He could clearly see that the old knight was growing agitated, though not nearly as much as the helmeted man.

Zofia glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened slightly before narrowing in suspicion. “That’s the Nightmare Knight,” she murmured, her flirtatious demeanor evaporating as her tone dropped slightly. “What’s he doing here?”

“Antagonizing Vogelweide and Kowal by the looks of it,” Maria said in a low voice. “We should… we should step in, yes?”

Zofia nodded, standing up as Maria followed her. She turned her bright smile on Ranma and Talulah. “We’ll be right back, handsome. Just stay put and enjoy your lunch.” With that, she and Maria turned away to walk over to the Nightmare Knight, interruption his conversation. There was something said about needing to borrowing someone’s workshop, but Ranma was paying little attention to what was said. It was only when he saw a slight tension in the Nightmare Knight’s shoulder that he moved.

The Nightmare Knight raised his massive spear as if to swing it at Maria when he suddenly stopped. Slowly, his helmeted head turned toward the spear, which was held fast in Ranma’s gloved hand. Ranma’s other hand popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, and he raised an eyebrow at the faceless helmet that seemed to be trying to menace at him.

Now that he was closer, he had a better measure of his prospective opponent. The aura was certainly impressive enough, and Ranma felt like the Nightmare Knight had potential, but… “‘Sup,” he said, smirking as he swallowed the sandwich. “You’re goin’ the right way towards pissing me off.”

“Am I?” the Nightmare Knight hissed. “And how is that?”

“You’re interruptin’ my lunch to attack a cute girl,” Ranma said, his smirk widening. “That’s a good way to get your ass kicked.” His eyes slid over to the surprised expressions on the two patrons who the Nightmare Knight had been bothering, as well as the surprised look on bald Marcin’s face. “Hey, guys, any objections to me tossing this guy outta here?”

Marcin’s eye darted between the Nightmare Knight and Ranma, before the bald man gave a vicious grin. “Just don’t damage the place kicking him out and you’re fine by me, kid.”

“If you think I will just stand aside—” the Nightmare Knight began, but Ranma had already stopped listening. He flowed forward, smoothly reversing his grip on the Knight’s massive polearm and allowing his free hand to jab his fingertip’s at the Knight’s wrist. The sudden and intense pressure forced the Knight’s hand to spasm open with a cry that cut off his words, and Ranma yanked the weapon away from him.

Pulling the polearm forward, Ranma drove the butt of it forward, doubling the Nightmare Knight over its shaft with an explosive cough, and began to run forward. The Knight was lifted off his feet and Ranma’s grin turned as vicious as Marcin’s. “Out you go!” he yelled, shoving the shaft of the polearm forward and pushing the stunned Knight through the door, where he landed on the sidewalk with a crash. Still holding the weapon, Ranma followed him out and tossed it to clatter onto the sidewalk next to him. As the Knight coughed for breath, Ranma gave him a contemptuous glare. “Next time, remember your manners.” He turned to head back inside.

“Wait,” the Knight wheezed, clutching his weapon and forcing himself into a sitting position. Ranma paused, glaring over his shoulder at the knight. “You… you are very strong.” The Nightmare Knight pushed himself to his knees and began to rise, unsteadily, back to his feet. “I would know your name. As you have reminded me, I have forgotten my manners…” A barely visible eye glared at Ranma from under the Knight’s helmet. “I would know the name of one who I must challenge to prove my strength.”

Before Ranma could answer, Zofia’s voice cut in, sharp as a blade. “That’s quite enough,” the blonde said, stepping outside to stand next to Ranma. Behind her came Maria and Talulah, with Talulah now holding a paper takeout box in one hand and her helmet in the other. “Just what do you think you’re doing, Tola? Or, should I call you ‘Nightmare Knight?’ I’ve heard all about your poor behavior since arriving. Why don’t you take off that helmet, disarm yourself, and let’s have a nice little chat?”

“‘Nightmare?’” Tola replied, his voice thick with disgust. “That stupid nickname plastered on me by the city slaves?”

“It’s like you’re trying to get stripped of your Major qualifications,” Zofia said, shaking her head. “The Knights Association won’t look the other way of you picking fights like this.”

“What harm is there in losing pointless qualifications?” Tola asked. He pointed emphatically at Ranma as he continued, “Vapid knights like you are all that are left in this worthless city! I thought I was wasting my energy, but standing beside you there…! Now there is a foe worthy of a fight!” His finger shifted to Zofia, who tensed up, her teeth clenching. “Pegasus—you sully the name of that race! Only those pegasi with the blood of flowing gold are worthy rivals!”

“I’m getting really sick of listening to you talk,” Ranma said, a baleful expression on his face as he stared at Tola. “So, I’m gonna give you this last chance to just shut your mouth and leave before you get to take a concussion-induced nap.”

“You should heed my captain’s advice, Nightzmora,” Talulah said, stepping up next to Ranma, opposite Zofia. “There is nothing here for you.”

Tola stepped back uncertainly, as if seeing something in Talulah’s and Ranma’s expressions that unsettled him. He straightened his back and raised his hand once more to point at Ranma, though far less emphatically than before. “Seek me out, warrior of the blackened rook,” he said in a quieter voice. “You surround yourself with allies who can find me. You… are a very worthy opponent. I would enjoy testing my mettle against you, even knowing I might fall… or especially so.”

Ranma watched as the Nightmare Knight turned in an abrupt about face, marching away as if disgusted by something. For his part, Ranma simply gave a derisive snort, turning to Talulah. “What was that about ‘your Captain?’” he asked her.

“You are the person in command of our team,” she replied, raising an eye brow at him. “The Doctor placed you in charge in the field. Didn’t he tell you, Captain?”

“He did not, and I’m gonna rearrange his face later.” Ranma shook his head, then pointed to the box. “Are those the rest of my fries?” he asked. Silently but with a nod, Talulah handed the box over. He popped it open, beginning to devour the sliced and salty fried potatoes as he turned back to Zofia and Maria.

Maria spoke up first, her eyes wide. “I guess Margaret wasn’t exaggerating about how strong you are.”

“She certainly was not,” Zofia said with an appreciative purr in her voice, smiling at Ranma. “You know, we’re expecting Margaret here after her match… I’m sure she wouldn’t object to seeing her friend again. Maria and I certainly won’t complain about you joining us.”

“Huh?” Ranma blinked.

“Zofia!” Maria hissed, grabbing her “aunt” by the shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Enjoying myself and helping you to enjoy yourself, too,” Zofia explained. Her smile widened, turning almost conspiratorial as she lowered her voice. “After all, you got a little giddy when he said you were cute.”

“D-Don’t say such things! Th-That’s incredibly, incredibly disrespectful! He probably meant nothing by it anyway!” Maria stammered, her face starting to flush.

Zofia simply turned to Ranma, still smiling. “Ranma, you darling young man, you meant every word you said to Tola, didn’t you?”

Ranma blinked again, not quite sure where Zofia was taking the conversation. “Well, yeah. I don’t usually say stuff I don’t mean.”

“There, you see?”

Maria’s face filled with red, and she made a sound not unlike a kettle reaching full boil, before she abruptly spun about and dashed back into the bar.

Ranma opened his mouth to ask Zofia why Maria had done that, but he was cut off by unexpected laughter. With both eyebrows reaching their peak, he slowly turned toward Talulah, whose form was shaking in her armor as she struggled to hold back her absolute surrender to her amusement. Catching his incredulous look apparently did in any and all restraint as she doubled over, clutching her stomach and surrendering to a full belly laugh.

Ranma crossed his arms, trying to affect an annoyed glare at the Draco, but he could also feel the corners of his lips twitching upward. Zofia, out the corner of his eye, also seemed to be restraining laughter. “Alright, laugh it up, Tal-chan,” he said, rolling his eyes.

That seemed to do the trick as Talulah took several deep breaths, her laughter finally fading. She wiped at her face where the tears of laughter had run down her cheeks. “You truly do live a charmed life, don’t you, Captain?”

A quick communication from the Doctor confirmed keeping Ranma and Talulah off the clock for the remainder of the day. The official reason was to avoid stirring up unrest in the Infected quarter. Ranma suspected that part of it was to allow Ranma time to meet up with Nearl.

He and Talulah were still in the booth at the Scarly Martin, sitting opposite Zofia and Maria with Talulah on the outer seat. Things seemed a bit slow, and Scarred Marcin made no moves to eject them, but the four of them ordered drinks and Ranma ordered another meal. Maria seemed to have a hard time looking at or talking directly to Ranma without blushing and squeaking like a kettle at full boil.

At the moment, Ranma was retelling the tale of Chernobog. “So, you know, there I am, drawing everyone’s attention, giving the team time to get away,” he said. “Little shit is trying to make me feel bad for not being Infected, but like… who cares? So he gets his sniper buddy, Faust, to take a shot at me, and throws all his berserkers and casters at me.”

“I still have a hard time accepting that even you were able to dodge a shot from Faust,” Talulah murmured, nursing her drink.

Ranma just grinned at her.”I think that first shot, he wasn’t really tryin’,” he suggested. “Anyway, I beat a bunch of them down and little shit and I have another exchange, before I point out that I’ve already accomplished my goal and need to get going—my team’s gotten away and I need to catch up. And boy does that get him mad, so he says, ‘No more games, I want him dead, Faust!’ So now I’m trying to deflect or dodge Arts-infused bolts that are punching through walls and I’ve got two berserkers coming up on me. Can’t dodge ‘em both!”

“Oh, no!” Maria said, her shyness overcome by concern. “H-How did you get out of that one?”

Ranma grinned at her. “Well, I used my ki to reinforce my body. I figured I’d take the bolt in a non-vital area, and let my ki reinforce the rest against the shock of the impact, so I could dodge the berserkers,” he said. The bell at the entrance rang as the door opened. “But then, there’s this huge wall of metal between me and the bolt, and I see it’s her,” he said as a familiar head of blonde hair walked through the door. His grin widened. “So I just yell out, ‘Nearl, you’re late!’”

The woman who walked in turned with a surprised expression that quickly turned into a radiant smile. Ranma took note that her heavy armor she wore as a medical Defender was gone, leaving Margaret Nearl, the Radiant Knight, wearing a heavy white coat that left the sides of her midriff exposed. She still wore armored gauntlets and greaves, and the coat was open enough to show the shorts she was wearing under it.

Her smile widened as she approached the booth. “Sorry. I thought you could handle a pitiful little ambush like this without me,” she said. “Ranma, what are you doing here?”

“Definitely not sparking a revolution against the rich and stuffy upper class oppressing the little guy. Promise,” Ranma said, winking.

“Shame, I could have gotten on board with something like that,” Margaret replied.

“You are late, Margaret,” Zofia said. “Your match against Tytus ended even more quickly than anyone expected.”

Ranma brightened. “Oh, yeah,” he said. While waiting, a report featuring Margaret had shown up on one of the TVs. “You were on that news report with the… what was her name… Candle Knight. Did you enjoy your date with your girlfriend?”

“My what?” Margaret asked, turning to stare at Ranma, then pointed at him. “No. Don’t you start that. You had plenty of fun taunting Gavial about Tomimi and Zumama, don’t you start that with me about Vivianna. She’s just a… friend, sort of… and an opponent I respect.” She crossed her arms with a huff. “She was just helping me to dodge all those reporters who were pressing me about… the awful incident that occurred during the earlier match.”

Marcin helpfully brought out a stool and Margaret gave him a grateful nod as she sat down to join her friends and family. After Marcin had left, Talulah chose that moment to speak up. “The murder, you mean,” she said quietly.

Margaret’s face darkened, though Ranma was hard pressed to tell if it was because of Talulah or the word choice. Still, she nodded. “Yes… The murder of the Pinus Sylvestris knight.” She shook her head slowly. “I knew… I knew very well that the Infected weren’t truly welcome in the Major, but I’d hoped…”

“Hope is a wonderful thing,” Talulah said quietly. “It’s a shame that reality rarely lives up to our hopes.”

“Well, that’s what folks like us are for,” Ranma said, clapping Talulah on the back and grinning at her and Margaret. “We just gotta fight even harder to make our hopes and everyone else’s hopes come true.”

Margaret nodded, her expression firming. “If we find ourselves surrounded by darkness, then we must be the radiant light that illuminates the land,” she said solemnly.

Maria spoke up at that point, “We must adhere to the Nearl family creed.” She blushed slightly, ducking her head as Ranma glanced in her direction. “‘Fear neither hardship nor darkness.’ That is the code that the Nearl family stands by.” As Ranma smiled, Maria’s expression brightened in response. “It may not be much, but I’m sure Margaret and I will stand with you.”

Ranma gave a quick laugh, grinning. “‘Not much?’ Hell, me and Margaret alone could probably take over the city,” he said, turning his grin toward his friend. “And that’s without Tal-chan getting involved.”

“I thought the point was to conquer the city, not burn it to the ground?” Talulah asked, crossing her arms. Only the slight twitch of her lips spoiled the serious and puzzled expression on her face.

“Let’s not take that one off the table just yet,” Zofia said. “We still have a lot of work.” She turned to Margaret, her expression sobering. “The Candle Knight—she’s your next opponent, right?” At Margaret’s nod, she continued, “Please, do me a favor and take her seriously. You know what everyone’s calling her, don’t you?”

“Yes, ‘the second Black Knight,’” Margaret replied. At Ranma’s questioning glance, she elaborated, “The Black Knight is the title of a previous competitor in the Major. She won three years in a row before leaving under mysterious circumstances.”

Ranma grinned. “Sounds like a real badass.”

“And quite unusual,” Maria chimed in. “She was from Leithanien, yet was utterly unable to use Originium Arts. Her victories in the Major came entirely from skill and strength.”

Margaret sighed as Ranma began practically vibrating in his seat with a grin. “You want to fight her, don’t you, Ranma?”

“Of course he does,” Talulah replied before he could. “Why do you even need to ask?”

“I can think of other ways to help burn off all that excess energy,” Zofia said, smiling somewhat wickedly at Ranma. He blinked cluelessly at her, but Margaret and Maria both colored while Talulah snickered.

He glanced at Talulah, then at the two blushing Nearls. “What?”

“Ask Cantabile,” Margaret replied. “Or Nabiki. Or ‘Tal,’ if you’re feeling brave. Maybe Olivia as well.” She paused to consider it. “Yelena and Ch’en might have been able to also give you this education if Yelena weren’t out on a mission and Ch’en on a second vacation.”

Zofia’s eyebrows raised while Maria’s blush brightened. “He hasn’t had such an… education?” Zofia asked. “Despite so many women being willing to give him one?”

“N-Now, wait just a moment,” Talulah said, her own cheeks starting to redden. “Margaret, just what makes you think I have any such interest?”

“I’m not an idiot, for one,” Margaret replied, causing Ranma to snicker despite knowing he was being talked about in a somewhat unflattering way. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Unlike a certain lovable one we all know. You’ve certainly had an interest, one might even say a crush, since he decided to get up and start walking around AMA after Chernobog.”

Ranma straightened up at this. “Wait, what? Wait, no, hold on, maybe we can discuss something else now, huh?” he said. The realization of exactly what they were discussing had finally hit him and was treading dangerously close to discussions he actually wished to avoid.

“Can’t take what you dish out, Ranma?” Margaret replied, crossing her arms and smirking. “Not so funny when it’s someone else talking about your small army of girlfriends, is it?”

“If I agree to lay off, will you?” Ranma asked, raising his hands in surrender.

Margaret tapped her chin in thought. “No,” she replied. “Because it’s important for you to actually address. Though it’s probably best if you talk to Cantabile about it first.”

As if summoned by her words, the slender and dark-haired Cantabile walked up from behind Nearl, her heels clicking lightly on the pub’s wooden floor and a polystyrene container with a sandwich and fries in her hand. “We’ve already discussed it,” she said without preamble or greeting. Maria and Margaret jumped in surprise, while Ranma and Talulah simply each waved a hand at her. “I’m waiting for him to be ready before we proceed to that stage of our relationship. I don’t wish to force it on him.” She popped one of her fries into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully on it while looking at Ranma.

He smiled weakly at her but there was a question in her eyes, and something else. “Canta-chan?”

Swallowing the bite of food, Cantabile continued, “I would… prefer to be able to be your first, Ranma,” she admitted. “But I would understand if you felt more comfortable with… someone else.”

Quite suddenly, Ranma was no longer in his seat. What remained of his meal was abandoned as he stood next to Cantabile, his arms going around her—slowly, and shaking slightly, but embracing her. “I’m comfortable with you, Canta-chan,” he said to her. “Don’t you ever worry about that.”

Cantabile relaxed, letting out a breath as she leaned slightly into Ranma’s hold. “I’m glad… because sometimes a girl does start to worry, even one like me, Ranma…”

Ranma swallowed thickly. “Soon, Canta-chan,” he promised. “Soon.”

“Very soon?” she asked in a tone that managed to mix “heated” with “hopeful.”

A shiver ran through Ranma’s body at the tone, and he nodded. “Very soon,” he agreed in a whisper.

The three blondes at the table shared a look—one marred slightly by Maria’s still radiant blush—and nodded. “Well, don’t let us keep you here, Ranma,” Zofia said. “Margaret needs to practice before her next match ,anyway.”

“Right, and I should tweak her equipment, too,” Maria said. “We can all meet up again tomorrow! Miss Tal, you’re more than welcome to stay the night with us.”

Talulah simply nodded, her expression impassive. She held up her terminal link, which simply showed a picture of the hooded Doctor giving a thumbs up. “My brief leave for the evening has been approved, so I believe I will accept that offer,” she said blandly.

Margaret clapped a gloved hand on Ranma’s shoulder. “Ranma,” she said, “tonight, you become a man. Make sure to show Cantabile a good time.”

Ranma glared at her. “I’m gonna kick your ass, Nearl,” he muttered.

“Yes, I’m counting on it,” she replied. “How else am I supposed to improve?”

The trip back to the hotel room was uneventful, with Cantabile happily wrapped around Ranma’s arm for the duration. Neither Sir Russel nor Gravel were present when Ranma led Cantabile through the door into the hotel, nor into his own room. So, as the door locked, the two were again alone. Ranma awkwardly fidgeted, one hand at the back of his head as he tried to look at anything except his girlfriend.

“Ranma,” she said, her hand taking his. “Please, look at me.” Her other hand slowly rose up, fingertips gently brushing his cheek. She applied no pressure, but he turned to face her regardless. Blue eyes gleamed in the city lights filtering through the windows as her gaze locked onto his. “If you aren’t ready for this, we don’t have to.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to regain his center. Was he ready? Or would he just continue to hold her at arm’s length forever, never comfortable with moving past the shy, awkward steps of holding hands and sneaking kisses when nobody was looking? He opened his eyes, looking at her again. He took in the sight of her: dark blue-black hair that framed her face and flowed down her back, blue eyes watching him intently, a slim and slender build only a little shorter than himself.

Her lips pursed slightly as he looked at her. A kiss from her was… exciting. As exciting as the thought of kissing… Akane. Akane. That was the hangup, wasn’t it? His unresolved tension with a girl he loved when his greatest aspiration was inheriting a dojo and then… what? Hoping the craziness of his life would end? The torch he still carried for Akane burned, but it was no longer as bright as it used to be.

In his mind, he compared his thoughts of Akane to his thoughts of Cantabile. The Liberi woman who had never challenged him, never questioned him, and now waited for him. She had never needed to, for how alike they were. She had been forged into a killing blade, while he had been honed to protect, but they were both weapons. Akane had been an ordinary girl thrown into the madness that followed behind him. Cantabile had embraced him, flaws and all. His chest still stung from Akane’s rejections.

His hand opened and the torch for Akane fell. It was unfair to Cantabile to continue to hold onto it. It was equally unfair to assume that, even if Akane had survived and arrived on Terra, that she would even still want anything to do with him.

He brought his hand up, palm caressing Cantabile’s cheek. “I am ready for this,” he said softly as she leaned into his touch. “The problem was me. It’s always me. I just… needed to get over something.”

“I understand,” she said, smiling. Her hand left his face, touching the back of his hand. He leaned in, kissing her, and she stood up to meet his lips. His free hand came around as he leaned down, wrapping around the backs of her legs, and he lifted her into his arms as she let out a little cry of delight. Carrying her easily, he walked for the bedroom door.

Night had long since fallen over the hotel, and Centaurea had found a new vantage point to observe her objective from. She was not there at the moment, her spyglass instead focused on a different room. She flinched as her radio earpiece crackled.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” a woman’s voice asked from the earpiece.

“Negative,” Centaurea replied. Her eyes drifted for a moment to the new vantage point she had selected. It offered a perfect, clear view of the room occupied by the Doctor of Rhodes Island. At the moment, her quarry was a different one. “I’m performing reconnaissance on a possible obstacle.” Within the viewfinder of her spyglass, the “obstacle” in question—the young man who had nearly jumped on her—was lying on his back without a stitch of clothing on. A dark-haired and slender Liberi woman was atop him.

“What kind of obstacle?” the radio pulled her out of her bout of voyuerism.

Centaurea licked her lips. “A very dangerous one,” she replied. “He leapt up to my previous position on the roof of a three story building from a standing start. Then he jumped to another rooftop across a freeway.” And the arrow, she thought, but refrained from mentioning. She wondered why she chose to not mention it.

“Acknowledged,” the woman’s voice replied on the radio. There was a brief silence before the voice returned, “Do you believe this obstacle would prevent you from performing your duties if ordered?”

“If he’s around, it’s possible.”

“Remain on observation duty. We will reinforce if it becomes necessary.” The woman’s voice paused, then continued, “Gather as much intel as you can on this obstacle. We will be in touch.”

“Copy.” Centaurea turned off her radio with a scoff. If she had any other options… She turned her attention back to her spyglass. Well, they had ordered her to continue her observations, hadn’t they?

Within the room, the two had changed positions. Now it was the Liberi woman’s turn to lie back on the bed, her legs wrapped around the dark-haired young man. Centaurea’s eyebrow rose at the sight. “They’ve been going for four hours now,” she muttered. “I can understand her, she’s clearly some kind of honeypot assassin. Where’s he getting all this fantastic stamina from?”