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No Need for Destiny
Chapter 3
No Need for Vacations
Disclaimer: I don’t own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.
I would like to first personally thank all of those reviewing my stories. I enjoy reading your comments, and try to correct the grammatical errors I miss with my final read-through as well as my spell checkers. The suggestions you all make will help make this story better for everyone to enjoy, as well as allow my to fix some plot holes I may unintentionally leave. If you find any, let me know, and I will correct them and repost the chapters.
Their new boss was arriving soon for the meeting.
That was a very good reason to assemble in their opinion.
“Where is he?” asked Han Ito, one of the newer board members.
“Be quiet,” said Daki Yoshida. “He’ll be here before it is supposed to start.”
Before anymore of a fight of words could break out, footsteps were heard, echoing in the corridor; sending the men and women to their seats, as the doors slowly opened.
He stood at the entrance, slightly shorter than two meters tall, long black hair done in a braid, deep blue eyes surveying the room. He wore a formal suit, resembling Jurai styles. His eyes showed no emotion, almost chilling the room, as he walked towards the head of the table, and placed his folders on it.
“Hello,” he said, bowing slightly. “My name is Ranma Saotome Kuramitsu; and I am the new head of Seniwa.”
The members gulped, looking around. They had long been working under Jurai rule for over six years, when the company was taken over; Galaxy Police was taken under the Jurai military’s wing, and there had been massive arrests, with only a few of those people ever being seen again.
And now ... a descendant of the owner of the company had returned and claimed what was his.
“As you may have noticed,” said Ranma, “none of your fellow board members are very old, or have held this position before. There is a very good reason for that. You see, the former tenants of your new jobs decided that my grandfather wasn’t fit to run Seniwa, so they had his ship sabotaged to speed along his death, and then they undid all of his hard work.
“Suffice to say, my very existence proves Grandfather survived for a while afterwards,” said Ranma with a grin, as he walked around the table. “And when I was discovered, the Jurai Empire was very helpful in ensuring that those old greedy fossils were dealt with.”
Hearing their gasps of shock, Ranma waved it off. “They’re alive. They’re just rotting away in a prison somewhere ... I think. Who knows how pampered idiots like them would deal with the harsh realities of prison life.
“Anyway,” he said, resuming his pacing, “they made one major mistake: they allowed their own greed to destroy themselves, they became undone by their own egos.”
“What do you mean, sir?” asked one woman.
Smiling, Ranma turned to face her. “They were against my Grandfather due to his peace initiatives with Jurai. They felt it would hamper the company’s development and their own desires for wealth and power.
“What they forgot was that all other things being equal, a power struggle with Jurai would be too costly. Our fleets are roughly equal in power; we each have enough access to what we would need for a war machine.
“But what they failed to notice is that they would have nothing left; both sides would be destroyed. They simply looked at a short-sided goal, believing that they would be the rulers, and eventually remove the others to be the sole ruler. They looked towards best case scenarios, while overestimating their own forces and prestige. They believed they would further secure themselves because Jurai would never risk the small annexes they planned to make. After all, who would care about a system here or a system there?”
Ranma placed his palms on the desk, standing at his position at the table, smiling. “In the three hundred years they ran Seniwa, we lost money, lost resources, and lost prestige among our systems. The old men nearly destroyed what the Kuramitsu family had spent eons building.”
He steeled his glances at each of the members. “You are all here now, because during the Jurai occupation, each of you showed a loyalty to not only the company, but the general ideals it was founded on. Each of you was found innocent of any wrong-doing during the previous administration, and each of you was certified as qualified for these new positions.
“Now, me, my wife Nabiki, and my sister Ranko, will each be checking over the company, checking to make certain that what happened before doesn’t happen again.”
He held out his hand, as he gathered his energy into it, a solid ball forming and illuminating the room even more. “The first one of you that forgets that simple lesson, the first one of you that believes they deserve it all, will get it all; all of my wrath.”
The new board each paled, gulping as they tried to keep their bowels in check.
Seeing this, and smiling, Ranma allowed the energy to return to him, as he sat in his chair. “Very good, you all might make it to retirement. Now, for the first order of business, we have the newest agreement treaty with Jurai on the table. I’m opening the floor to any concerns.”
Soon, the meeting was on.
She still wasn’t sure why, but the frames were placed side-by-side; far from what she knew to be standard for Jurai space tree seedlings. Even with them being hidden inside a subspace sub-dimension, she still felt compelled to check on them. They are my babies, in a way.
Smiling, she headed towards the entrance, making certain the other security measures were still active.
Ranma had set the place up, and spent weeks trying to break in.
After all, his old man had taught him well enough about that.
The subspace dimension was genetically encoded. Only Ranma, Nabiki, or one of their children—didn’t want one of the kids to wander in and get killed—could enter the door or teleport in; all others were redirected to the main planetary recycling plant: bio-waste division. And if they could make it in, the system would constantly test the person to ensure they were who they tried to be.
If not ... you’d wish for death when the system finished with you.
The trees were too valuable to not do so.
“Goodnight, Palk. Goodnight, Iha-Naga.”
Ranma had named his tree Palk, after the Korean Sun God, the personification of all that is light, good, and beneficial. He did so in honor of one of the monks who had taught him in Korea, who helped Ranma forge his former code of honor. An amazing feat, given Genma’s presence.
Nabiki had named hers Iha-Naga, a Japanese Goddess who was the incredibly strong daughter of the mountain god Oho-Yama who wanted her to marry Ninigi. The rice-god preferred her younger sister Ko-no-Hana instead, and Iha-Naga cursed him.
She had to still smile at that private joke, a little reminder to what would happen if they ever did find a way home and he tried to leave her for Akane.
The lights were once more produced by the little seedlings, as she exited the room, and returned to her house.
Smiling, she saw that Miyuki and Mikumo were still down for their naps. At both now two—Miyuki’s birthday having been a few days ago—both were still being somewhat manageable. Though she might not have liked it, Nabiki chose to stay at home most of the time to raise them, while Ranma did most of the office work.
Besides, as a stay-at-home mother, she could run what she needed to for Seniwa; namely their Black Ops.
She had no doubt Jurai had the same. She doubted there was a government on Earth that did not have a version of it; or even what was now developing in the Sol System.
So, she would let Ranma—and Ranko, seeing as how he wanted to have a separate identity for his cursed form, in case others wanted to try and play both sides against each other in a future power grab—run the public face of their company/empire. She would run the dark projects, things that were on a need-to-know basis.
And only they needed to know everything.
“Mommy?”
Shaking her head clear, she looked over to see her daughter sitting up, rubbing her eyes. “Yes, baby?”
“I need to go potty.”
Smiling, she helped her little girl to the bathroom. She couldn’t help but flashback to her own misadventures in potty-training.
Mom sure did have a lot of patience for me ... for all of us. I can’t remember her once being angry or upset if we had an accident.
In fact, she was never once mad at us, no matter what we did. She always acted caring and understanding.
“All done,” said the little voice, smiling at her triumph over the dreaded Potty-Ghost, before washing her hands in a small sink Ranma had installed when they first started potty-training.
Saved water when the little ones didn’t have to nearly kill themselves trying to be clean.
Smiling, Nabiki watched as her daughter washed her hands while humming the same tune that Nabiki’s own mother had used to make it fun.
Soon, the little blond girl was standing before Nabiki, eyes sparkling in happiness at what she had just accomplished, holding her arms out. “I did it!” she cheered.
Nabiki bent down, picking her daughter up in a hug. “Yes you did!” smiled the happy mother. “I’m very proud of you, Miyuki!”
The little girl nodded, smiling; before she let out a yawn.
Nodding in understanding, Nabiki took her back to the bedroom. It was still nap time, and the little girl did need her sleep.
Setting her back down on the bed, she smiled as Mikumo curled up beside her again, wrapping his little arms around Miyuki as if she was a teddy bear, a small smile on his face of content.
The same was done by Miyuki.
I wonder ... is that the way it should be?
Is there a bond between them that I can’t understand, or are they merely seeking comfort and safety of each other?
She put those thoughts off. They were still too young for her to worry about anything. Even if they did decide step-siblings were not what they wanted to be, but lovers, was not a question she needed to worry for a bit. If she did, she could always ask for Ranma to try and see if he could detect the “red string of fate” between them.
Sitting down at a computer terminal, she began to once again dive into the memory systems of Seniwa. After all, who would suspect a stay-at-home mother of running the dark side of the business?
All it had taken was verifiable proof he was the relative of Misaka, and his say so; for all their forces to cease all attempts to stop the Jurai fleets.
So they hid. They changed their appearances, altered their DNA—a few changed genders entirely—anything, to hide from Jurai.
Anything for the moment of revenge.
“Where do we stand?”
“Our resources have been gathered and hidden.”
“None of our people within the company survived the purging. They found them all.”
“So we are alone?”
“My Father will be avenged!”
“This is not about that ancient pile of dust.”
“Take that back!”
“SILENCE!” yelled one voice, booming across the room. “If you want nothing more than revenge against the idiots who couldn’t follow the plan, then leave now and seek it out for yourself. We have no time for such petty ambitions or the people they control!”
Hearing the silence and no objections, he continued. “Where they failed, allowing their wants and desires, their greed to control them; we shall succeed. Within our grasps are not only the last adult Kuramitsu, but also his spawns. We need but eliminate them, and regain what was taken. Without him, Jurai would have to fight their way through, and that is not something they are willing to do.”
“And what is your plan then?”
“Yeah, why should we follow you?”
“Because, unlike the others, I can deliver. I will not let any obsession rule my decisions, and I will not allow common backstabbing to run rampant through here.”
“And who are you?”
“You think I would be so foolish as to use my real name? No, for now, call me ... Kain.”
It wasn’t business being bad, per se. Profits were good, there had only been several lame attempts to kill him which ended with security eliminating them before they ever got near Ranma or his family. That was good in his opinion, because it meant that should they ever get past security, they had little to no idea how strong Ranma or Nabiki was.
Man; who would have thought I’d be so cavalier about someone who tried to kill me being killed themselves. Guess I grew up a bit, and I can’t say that it was a bad change in me. I won’t give anyone a chance anymore to hurt me or my family again. They come for blood, they forfeit their lives.
Nabiki’s side projects were going well. Already, they had stopped several attempts to seize power within the Jurai Star Empire; earning them more prestige with the current family and several nobles not currently on the xenophobe-list. They had also caught and deported several spies, as well as developed new technology that would greatly assist them if someone was able to start a war or try to seize control of their company and territory.
No; it wasn’t the acts themselves that was putting him on edge, but the lack on intensity. He suspected there would be those whom the occupancy had not been able to capture or learn about. He knew there had to be more to it. The attempts so far had been too small scale.
A huge storm was brewing over the horizon, and he wasn’t sure what it would lead to.
He had Miyuki’s birthday coming soon. She was about to turn four, and he had promised to take all of them out to see a nebula that Nabiki had been wanting to see. It was supposed to be a big present and vacation, since the children would be attending school very soon, and Nabiki wanted to enjoy their youth before she had more free time.
Not that he was complaining. She seemed happy. He was happy. Hell, he was beginning to wonder if he might want another child, but he put that thought off. He was still trying to cement his control over Seniwa.
Besides, they had discussed it, and they simply weren’t ready to have another child at the moment.
“Feh,” he said, taking a drink of water, before using it to change forms and resuming his—now her—workout. “Never thought I’d think anything was more important than the Art.”
“Neither did I.”
She turned, spotting her wife walking out in her training outfit as well. “Done for the day?” asked Ranma.
“Black Ops isn’t as time consuming as they made it out to be on TV,” said Nabiki, as she went through a warm-up kata. “The children are down for their nap. It’s getting harder to do so, with them wanting to go out and see the nebula.”
“What’s so important about this place, anyway?” asked Ranma. “It’s just a bunch of gases and particulate matter.”
Nabiki giggled a bit. “It’ll be their first time in one, Ranma. Besides, this one is the home of those ghoples they discovered.”
“The ones they have in that damn show they love to watch?”
“The very same. They want to see real ones, so I figured it would be a good educational present.”
Sighing, Ranma finished her kata before starting to spar with Nabiki. “No other reason for this? I mean, isn’t there something else they’d really want to do?”
“Nope,” said Nabiki. “They want to see real ghoples.”
“Damn,” muttered Ranma.
“Dear, it is for them, not you or me.”
“But it just seems so boring!”
“Their choice, Ranma-kun,” she said, trying to catch Ranma with a strike to the stomach. “Give them some time, and they might want to go do something you’d like.”
Smiling, Ranma flipped over the punch and the follow-up. “Well, there is this fighting arts tournament I wanted to take them to. It even has a children’s division.”
Nabiki stopped the spar, backing off. “And you were planning on telling me this ... when?”
Ranma began to stare at her fingers. Despite their time together and all that had occurred, Ranma was still quite nervous when Nabiki used that tone of voice. “Well ... I was going to tell you soon.”
Sighing, Nabiki went to the benches and sat down. “Ranma, you should be beyond these little slips by now.”
Shrinking into herself, Ranma went over to the bench as well. “Sorry. I guess when I found out, I sorta started to act like I used to; wanting to make certain that Mikumo and Miyuki loved the Art almost as much as I do.”
“Or did?’ Nabiki asked. “I know you miss all the time you had once to just train.”
“I do,” chuckled Ranma. “I ain’t planning on taking them for a ten-year training trip, even if we’ll live much longer than that. We both have too many responsibilities to even think of that, and I want my children to have at least some semblance of a normal childhood ... at least as close to one as possible with us as their parents.”
Nabiki chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I remember going on a few weekend and an occasional week-long training trip before my mother died. They were ... nice,” she finished, smiling. “I guess we could go on a few. We do own quite a lot of land, as well as a few planets that are of little value aside from tourist trade.”
“And the tournament?” asked Ranma excitedly.
“Maybe,” she said, holding up her hand to forestall any reply from Ranma. “But you have to let them decide to enter, and I want to see them practice to ensure they’re ready.”
Smiling, Ranma fell into her happy dance; which Nabiki quickly ended with a strike via the Indestructible Tennis Racket.
Current score: 296 – Love, Nabiki.
Smiling, she sat Ranma up and hugged her. There were times it was nice to know that no matter how much things changed, some core items remained the same.
“Yes, sir,” said his source, hidden in shadow over the video line. “It is supposed to be a birthday gift to their children. They are going on one of our new automated ships. It will just be the four of them, with enough firepower to level a small fleet.”
“I see,” said Kain. “Yes, this would be our best opportunity to gain control.”
“Will you kill them on the ship?”
Kain steepled his fingers. “Perhaps. But if we keep them alive for a bit, we may be able to weaken the holdings of the Board, as well as delay GP’s response.”
“Understood. Orders?”
Kain nodded. “Get all the information you can about their ship. I have to get my crew together for a little ... shipping party.”
The figure on the screen could be seen barely smiling, as the link went dead.
Kain smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Well, well; I wonder how much of a struggle the Kuramitsu family will put up.”
Nabiki smiled as she checked their course once again, not wanting to accidentally end up popping out of hyperspace and into a star or the core of a planet.
Ranma sighed as he went over the other systems. I wonder if I was ever that bad.
Turning to look at them, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw their faces. But then again ... let them be happy with such a simple thing as a ghople.
“Well,” said Ranma, “we should be arriving at the exit point in a few minutes.”
“YEAH!” screamed the children, dancing around in joy.
Shaking her head, Nabiki continued to watch the displays as Ranma came up behind her, smiling. “They seem excited.”
Ranma nodded, before wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek. “Yeah; glad you packed those EVA suits for them to play outside with.”
Nabiki smiled. She still found it hard to believe that considering how dangerous she knew such excursions were on Earth, that it was child’s play in this time. “We’ll all get some time. Plus, we have the teleportation system to bring us back in, and you said you set the system to alert us if we get too far into the nebula for it to do that.”
Ranma nodded. He hadn’t experienced it, but he had seen enough evidence of what explosive decompression did to a body to know he didn’t want to experience it ... ever. “They do know what not to do, right?”
Nabiki smirked. “I’m not stupid, dear. Of course I taught them. Plus ... the suits are automatic with childproof locks.”
“Great,” said Ranma, “so it will only be use that can’t open the suits.”
“Funny, Saotome.”
“I thought so.”
Smiling, she leaned back in her seat. She was glad they had brought this ship. It was so rare that they left planet-side, but she didn’t want to give up all conveniences.
Plus, having enough firepower to liquefy a good sized planet in under ten minutes was a nice thing to have when you were the riches family in five sectors.
“Kids,” she said, catching the attention of the two four-year-olds who had been chatting excitedly about perhaps asking if they could keep a ghople or seventy, “we’ll be entering real space in about a minute. Can I have a countdown?”
Nodding happily, the kids began to chant the time remaining before they entered normal space.
“All teams, report.”
“Team 1 is a go!”
“Team 2 is a go!”
“Team 3 is a go!”
“Team 4 is a go!”
“Team 5 is a go!”
Smiling, the man mentally congratulated himself on the huge payout they were going to get for this assignment. With their weapons, they would immediately jam the communications of the ship when it arrived in normal space. Any earlier, and they ship might detect it.
That would immediately be followed by their sending their own message to the ship; the trigger code for a dormant virus that would make it through any scans, and disable the ship’s weapons and shields. They could have tried for one strong enough to vent the atmosphere or self destruct in hyperspace, but that could easily be seen, and there were too many fail-safes to avoid that.
Next were their ships, which would burrow into the main target and release the mercenaries in separate sections, allowing for quick location and elimination of the targets.
Finally, a quick programming of the auto pilot, or some explosives put near the main engine drive followed by some pushes to get it into the nebula, and you have the explosion that would wipe out any evidence.
“Sometimes, I love this job!”
“Entering normal space,” smiled Nabiki, as they exited hyperspace.
Then all hell broke loose, as sensors read a multitude of unknowns around them, before sensors and communications systems went dead.
Ranma raced back to a science console, studying quickly what was happening. “Small virus!” he yelled. “I’ve deleted it before it got too far, but communications are down for a few minutes. Weapons are on test mode for the same!”
Oh, someone is getting executed for this. Nabiki began to growl. Half the systems on the ship were still being tested. Looks like I’ll be spending the next few months looking for a Judas or ten.
Standing up from her console, she grabbed the children. “We need to get off the Command Deck; this will be the first place they look for us.”
Ranma nodded. “I’ve locked down most of the systems. They won’t get control of this vessel.”
The two ran out, desperately trying to ensure that the children were safe before they went on to eliminate the current threat. They could hear the whining of the ship’s structure as it was punctured by the invaders. They were headed for one of several safe rooms aboard the ship, designed to be life boats if needed; containing their own life support and emergency beacons, able to support fifty easily for a few months. And the best part was the fact that once inside; you couldn’t be gotten to with anything less than the explosive power of a supernova.
They wished that they could design the entire ship like that, but structural needs as well as external systems needed a more open approach, and the safe rooms were the best they could do at the moment.
“Down that corridor!” yelled Ranma, spotting the closet room that had been nearest to the Command Deck. “GO!”
An explosion cut them off, before wild shots buzzed past them.
Ranma could feel the mercenaries ahead of him, since disguising one’s presence in this part of the galaxy was based more on hiding from technology than the senses of your target. He turned quickly to his back.
Nabiki was behind him a good twenty meters, lying on her side, and clutching her leg. Damn, she broke her leg!
His children were closer to him; only five meters away, and holding each other, fear on their faces.
To his front, he could sense the attackers coming closer.
He turned to his children. “Go to your mother, now! Nabiki, get some cover!”
“But Daddy...” called Miyuki.
“GO!” Ranma yelled, turning forward, throwing up an energy shield to deflect the incoming shots away from his family. “Möko Takabisha!” he yelled, sending twin orbs of blue-gold chi towards the attackers.
“Come on,” said Mikumo, grabbing his sister. “We got to help Mommy!”
The two started towards their mother, who was already behind the bulkhead, when they started to fade.
“DADDY!” cried Miyuki, as she noticed that she and Mikumo were fading from sight.
Ranma turned, having sent another barrage of chi down the corridor, to see his children fading before his eyes. “No!” he cried, darting for them, trying to reach out and stop their teleportation, already feeling the space around him warp slightly.
But he was too late, as he passed through the space they had been occupying mere moments before.
The residue of energy however shocked him. It wasn’t the normal feeling he associated with the technological means of transporting people. That felt ... like the Goddesses?
He was so wrapped in what he felt and the sudden disappearance of his children, he never saw the grenade that had been tossed behind him, until he felt himself being thrown down the hallway; his energy shield barely holding up under the assault as the corridor behind him was soon filled with super-heated plasma.
Cursing under his breath as he got back to his feet, he took off towards Nabiki’s position as another grenade was tossed into the corridor by his attackers; the explosion sending him flying along the floor closer to her, slamming him against a wall in her sight.
But that didn’t matter to him. The children were somewhere safe; he could feel that from what connection he still had to their life forces.
With them safe, and Nabiki soon to be placed somewhere where she could defend for herself, he would be set to extract his revenge from his assaulters.
No one tried to kill or harm his family.
No one.
But that didn’t matter to Nabiki. She saw her husband slammed against a bulkhead after two explosions ... and her children nowhere in sight.
She felt her heart seize, her eyes wide. She felt a new pain, as she assumed the worst; that her children had been killed by their attackers. They ... will ... all DIE for what they did to my babies!
“Daddy?” yelled out Mikumo.
“Where are we?” asked Miyuki, looking around, clinging to Mikumo’s arm.
“No idea,” came the four-year-old’s reply.
“Family?”
The two turned quickly, looking at the source of the sound. “Hello?” asked Mikumo, trying to shield his little sister behind him.
The boy stepped forward, showing reddish brown hair done in a pigtail, with blue eyes surrounded by a very light purple, wearing a silk robe that reminded the two children of some nobles from Jurai. “Hello,” said the boy. “Are you family?”
“F-f-f-family?” sputtered Miyuki.
The boy nodded. “The spell was supposed to bring family. I’m trying to bring my daddy here.”
The two children looked at each other, before turning back to him. “Who’s your daddy?” asked Mikumo.
“Mommy said she named me after him!” chirped the happy three-year-old boy, happy to have someone his age to talk to. “My names Ranma!”
She lost.
“SOOOON OF A BIIIITCH!” she yelled, as the bone was placed correctly.
“There,” said Ranma, securing the homemade split to it to keep the leg stable.
“Ranma,” she hissed, trying to ignore the remaining surges of pain as her leg shook a bit as he secured the ties, “we need to make those bastards pay for what they did. They killed our babies!”
“They’ll pay,” Ranma growled. “But they didn’t kill them.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, aghast. “But I saw the corridor filled with burning plasma when the explosion happened!”
Smiling, Ranma cupped her cheek. “Open your senses like I taught you, Nabiki. I can still hear their souls singing.”
Eyes wide, she tried to calm her breath, tried to locate her center, before closing them, trying to open her soul up to the songs of the souls of her children.
They were faint, as if so far away, but she could hear them. “They’re alive,” she whispered. “THEY’RE ALIVE!” she yelled grabbing Ranma and pulling him into a deep hug.
“Biki,” he said, gasping, trying to keep from falling on her by his left thumb and right pinkie, “leg!”
“Oops,” she said, letting him go before he fell and added more injury to her leg.
Straightening himself up, Ranma helped her to a chair. “I’m going to go clean house.”
“What about me?” she growled. “I owe them, and I always pay my debts.”
Ranma smiled. “We’re in the auxiliary control room. Have fun.”
Smiling, she turned around in the chair carefully, making certain not to aggravate her wounds, as she began to start her own plan for revenge.
No one; absolutely no one attacked her family and lived.
“That’s a photo of our daddy,” said Miyuki.
“I guess that means you’re our brother,” said Mikumo.
Ranma sighed. “I wonder why Deezy didn’t say so.”
“Deezy?” asked the two.
Nodding happily, the boy motioned for them to follow him. “Deezy’s my mommy’s secr...serec...guy who helps her.”
Shrugging, the two followed their new brother as he walked through the corridors, until they arrived inside of a large ornate room. “HEY,” yelled Ranma, “YOU HERE DEEZY!”
Before them, a large floating head formed into existence, sporting a bushy grey beard, pure blue eyes, and a red gem on his forehead. “You summoned me, Lord Ranma?”
“Is his name really Deezy?” interrupted Mikumo.
“My name is D3, sir,” said D3.
“Why does he call you Deezy then?” asked Miyuki.
“Cause he got mad when I called him Dot,” said Ranma, pointing to his forehead.
“Anyway,” the boy said, turning back to D3. “Deezy, how come you didn’t tell me I had a brother and a sister?”
“Siblings?” asked the head, before he turned to stare directly at the two in question. His eyes soon widened in understanding. “Ah, I see. You are the son and daughter of Lord Ranma Kuramitsu and Lady Nabiki Kuramitsu. How did you get here?”
“Um,” said Ranma looking at his feet, “I was practicing those techniques Mommy showed me and I ... sorta brought them here.”
“I see,” said D3, lowering his head. “I did not say anything because your mother asked me not to.”
“Mommy?” he asked, shocked. “Why?”
“I shall explain, D3,” said the form of Tokimi as she faded into view. “I shall tell you everything, my son.”
“About time,” mumbled the man in the Captain’s chair. “Really, why must these rich types waste our time by believing they could fight back? Put that corridor on screen and send our troops there.”
The screen lit up, showing the mercenaries being stationed at the entrance to the corridor, their weapons trained down the corridor, waiting for their target.
They didn’t have to wait long, as a being surrounded by red energy stepped forward, its eyes red beyond even what the energy field was, as the men fired on it.
But the shots never even got close to hitting him, the red energy blocking the shots, causing them to ricochet and bounce back.
“Nice attack,” mused Ranma, before he held his arms out. “Try mine. DAIMA TATEGAMI KEN!”
Twin balls of red chi energy flew outward, melting the walls as they passed by, before they impacted on the floor where the ambush had been set up, setting off a concentrated explosion that took out the two sections of decks above and below them. The men who had no been killed instantly by the explosion were killed as the wreckage plunged on top of them, including the molten metal, sending their screams echoing across the corridors.
Smiling, the man floated across the gapping hole in the floor to the other side, continuing on his walk. “So many mercenaries, so little time,” he chuckled. Ranma made no mistake and gave no second chances. These people had arrived on his ship to kill him and his family, and would have had not some lucky chance teleported his children away from that plasma grenade explosion.
“Normally, I’m not this violent,” he said, knowing they would be tracking him. “But you attacked my family. That means you get the Instant Death card.
“Enjoy,” he finished, smiling where he knew a camera was at, before he blasted it.
“A demon,” said one member. “He has to be a demon from the darkest pits! Did you see how he glowed? That wasn’t a personal shield!”
“What the fuck was he, man?” screamed out another member. “We were supposed to eliminate some business bureaucrats, not something like that!”
“It doesn’t matter!” shouted their leader. “He might be tough, but let’s see if he can survive vacuum!” He turned towards the Life Support station. “Vent the atmosphere wherever the fuck he’s at!”
“Actually, you’ll be doing nothing.”
“WHAT?” yelled the leader, staring at the screen as Nabiki’s face appeared and replaced the view of the damaged hallway, since it had been the last functioning camera in that section.
“Did you know something about the shields used on this craft; that they can be specifically realigned to form a different pattern instead on encapsulating the ship?”
Seeing their blank stares, she smiled. “Did you know they could be turned and used to pierce an enemy ship ... or even this very ship?”
“You wouldn’t dare,” growled the leader. “You’d be killed as well. The ship would break apart.”
“Maybe,” said Nabiki. “I would have to be damn good and skilled at manipulating energy like that.”
Her response was obvious, as a roof section of the bridge suddenly began to bulge inward, before it snapped, a shimmering field appearing below where the bulbous metal had exploded from, before the shimmering stopped, and air surged forward into the vacuum.
The leader had been lucky, the captain’s chair being closer to the lift than the others, having barely started moving towards it after seeing the look in the woman’s eyes; they glowed a deep red as she smiled. Demons! All of them are demons!
He was the lone survivor, as the lift doors closed, sealing him away from the death behind him; his men’s screams quickly fading as life support was stopped, leaving no more air for them.
“I will avenge my men,” he silently growled out.
“Your men are the least of your concerns,” said Nabiki, her voice broadcasting inside the lift. “I’ve opened the shaft to vacuum as well, so you won’t be going anywhere. Add to that the fact that the emergency batteries in that lift will only provide heat and life support for another few hours at best.”
“Why not kill me now?” he asked.
“Simple; I want you to suffer. Enjoy your stay, for however long it lasts.”
“I killed,” said Ranma. “It ain’t something I want to have fun doing ... ever.” He walked over to her chair, stepping over the bodies of two mercenaries who had received a concentrated chi attack to what had once been their chests, as well as their remains of their heads, to place his hand on her shoulder. “Any left alive?”
“The leader is trapped on the main lift,” she said, pointing to one monitor that showed him sitting in the lift trying to think of an escape. “We also have three more trapped in a corridor. I’m rather curious to see if they’re stupid enough to try and open the blast doors, seeing as I informed them that there is no air on the other side.”
Ranma nodded. “We back on course?”
“Yep,” she motioned towards the Navigation console. “We should be at a Galaxy Police base within the hour.”
“Can we trust the people aboard the base?” he asked, not exactly looking forward to having to fight more people.
“Yes,” she stated matter-of-factly. “That’s why I chose it.”
“After we drop them off, we get a better ship, and head off to find Miyuki and Mikumo.”
Nabiki nodded. “Can we get my leg fixed first?”
Chuckling a bit, he smiled. “Yeah; otherwise it’ll really hurt when they tackle you.”
“I never had the opportunity to tell him,” said Tokimi. “It is only by sheer luck that the spell you cast brought your siblings to you.”
“But why?” asked Miyuki. “Why couldn’t he visit Daddy?”
Tokimi sighed. “You must know, children, that as the child of an active goddess, Ranma was born with a large amount of power. If he was not taught properly, he may injury innocents.”
“But can’t Daddy train him too?” asked Mikumo. “Daddy says martial arts are all about control!”
“He still must be trained by us,” said Tokimi. “If not, his power could destroy him.”
“But Daddy could help,” said Miyuki. “He can do anything! He said he’d teach me to fly in the air like a birdie!”
Sighing, Tokimi looked forward. “Send someone to escort Lord Ranma and Lady Nabiki to me. I wish to talk with them.”
“Understood, Lady Tokimi,” said D3 as he disappeared.
Tokimi looked down to her son. “I cannot make any promises, but I will ... discuss this ... with your father.”
Ranma leaned over to Miyuki. “Is that good?”
She nodded. “Yeah; Mommy says Daddy’s a pushover.”
“Yes,” said G.
G was another servant of Lady Tokimi; one of a few mortals who worked for her and ran errands in the universe for her. She had sent him to pick up Ranma and Nabiki and bring them back to her temple.
That’s not to say the guy was weak. He was ten feet tall, purple, very muscular without being bulky, four arms, three eyes in a pyramid fashion, and moved with grace.
In fact, the guy’s presence was making Ranma want to ask for a spar with him, as the guy moved like an accomplished fighter.
This in turn had made Nabiki get out an attitude adjuster that Washu had given her for her birthday before Mikumo’s birth.
Akane had a mallet.
Ukyo had a spatula.
Nabiki received a tennis racket. Not only was it good for a game, but it was also good for shutting her husband up to help break him of his ongoing foot-in-mouth disease. Made from one of the hardest substances Washu knew about at the time, it had been doing its mission for many years, and not one crack or warp.
He had met them at the station after Nabiki had been healed, and escorted them to the current location of Tokimi’s Temple, a creation that could randomly jump from one point to another to hide it.
Currently, the couple was nervously holding their hands, trying to stay calm and not leap across the path to find their kids.
“They are behind this door, with Lady Tokimi and D3,” said G, making Nabiki think of a character from the American television shows. Adam...Gomez... Ah, Lurch!
“Thanks, G,” said Ranma as they entered the room, spying their children ... and a small boy who could almost pass as a young Ranma. “Should have seen this coming,” he said, rubbing his forehead.
The little boy slowly walked up to Ranma, smiling as he grew closer, before leaping at him with a flying glomp, sending Ranma back harshly into what had once been the door to the room. “DADDY!” he squealed.
Nabiki sighed, before turning to look at the mammoth form of Tokimi. “Lady Tokimi, I do believe we need to chat.”
Though D3 and G would never admit it, they felt somewhat happy that the Goddess of untold age blushed in embarrassment.
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