"Pop's, where the hell are we now?" Ranma Saotome asked his stupefied father as they both gazed around, shock evident on their faces.

"I…I don't know, boy." Genma Saotome admitted and pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Nothing happened.

The burly man frowned and rubbed his chin as he sat down on the rusted rooftop and considered a number of things.

They weren't in China anymore. That much was obvious.

Instead, they were in a seedy area, a city slum basically.

Only slums weren't made entirely of strange metal he'd never seen before. Nor would there be entire buildings floating in the sky, here and there, held aloft by some strange mechanism the Genma couldn't identify for the life of him.

Could it be Magic? He thought as he pondered on and on and shook his head. Can't be magic, my senses aren't coming up with anything.

Genma glanced at his son and heir, busy taking in the foreign sights with wide eyes and looked down. There he observed beings he'd never encountered before. Blue skinned women with tentacles slicked back for hair chatting with avian humanoids with metallic skin in inhuman languages. Leaning against a nearby building, typing rapidly on an orange holographic interface surrounding its arm with three fingers was a tall, thin bipedal amphibian with a pair of horns growing out of its skull.

Genma blinked as he watched a floating jellyfish glowing vibrantly as it followed a noseless, earless elephant. In the dark alleyway below them a demon-like thing was fighting with a big-headed, four-eyed being in a contest of fists and losing with a giant walking lizard emitting what sounded like a guttural laugh.

There were a few humans here and there, wearing strange full-body clothing.

It gave him a small amount of comfort. Not much, but at this point he'll take anything that'll prevent him from freaking out infront of his son.

Genma couldn't have that. The boy will never let it go.

Oh, and everyone was packing strange looking guns. But he didn't pay any great amount of to those, only if they were aimed at him or Ranma. And that wouldn't happen.

Not yet anyways.

"Pop's, I don't think we're in China anymore." Ranma muttered, frowning.

Genma nodded in agreement and rose. Despite the boy's best attempts at hiding it he could easily see the nervousness leaking into the ponytailed teen's posture. He felt the same way, but Ranma hadn't spotted it yet.


Genma breathed in and steadied his racing heart. Calm descended upon the elder Saotome and he planted his hands hard upon his son's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. "Are you afraid? It's alright if you are, I won't blame you for it, Ranma."

Ranma blinked after a few seconds of taking in what his father just said and took a step back, slapping away the hands that held him. "W-what, the hell!? No! Nonononono, no way, Old Man, I'm not afraidof anything! And don't you say otherwise!" Ranma stomped forward as a bit of his bravado returned.

Genma snorted. "Are you sure?" He sniffed, loudly. "I saw differently, and smelt it too."

"Oh and I'm sure you're such a bundle of confidence too." Ranma sneered and crossed his arms.

"Hmm, if you're so sure, can you tell me then?" Genma asked as planted his hands on his hips and raised his chin as if he were regarding an inferior.

Ranma narrowed his eyes. "I don't have to sense it to know it."

"I'm sure you do, boy. I'm sure you do." Genma muttered as he took another glance at the alien streets below and the skyless scenery above, covered by some sort of dome. He picked up the bark of guns with his keen ears here and there and the screams and shouts that accomplice them. The place reeked of blood and filth, both old and new.

Genma spotted a few inhabitants looking at them from below, assessing them with familiar looking eyes. Despite being of completely different races, despite having never encountered them before, despite everything else, he could easily tell that they all wished harm on him and Ranma.

Scum, that's what he was dealing with. Robbers, con-artists, psychopaths, murderers, etc. the dredges of society.

The burly man shrugged.

It's their funeral.

"I think, we shouldn't have pissed off those Chinese gypsies we encountered a few nights ago." Ranma muttered angrily and kicked the rooftop, denting it slightly.

Genma snorted. "Those idiots tried to rob us! They deserved what was coming to them!"

"You burned down their camp and pillaged nearly everything of value!" The teenaged martial artist stated, gritting his teeth.

"By accident, it wasn't my fault that they can't aim for shit with their fireballs." Genma shook his head and sighed. "I just took advantage of the situation, and we needed the cash too."

A vein on Ranma's forehead throbbed. "And it got us here! Wherever here is!" He scowled at his father as his hand tightened into a fist shaking with anger.

"Boy, let's just think of this as a new experience and adapt. Strange things have always happened to us, this is just one of them. Take it as it is and try not to think too hard on it, it'll lead you nowhere." Genma advised. "We'll be back in no time and then it's off to Jusenkyo for us."

Ranma raised his fist and let it go after a long, tense second. Genma pushed up his glasses and smiled. "We'll fight later."

"And I'll give you a thrashing you deserve, and then some." Ranma promised as he walked over to the ledge, hefting his camping pack over a shoulder. He glanced at his father and motioned him to come with his head. "Let's find out where we are and get out of here."

"Where should we start then?" Genma asked as he stood to the side.

Ranma pointed in the far off distance where a large line of people were waiting to go inside what looked to be a nightclub with loud, thumping music beating in the background.

"Think they'll let us in?"

"Boy, no one can resist the Saotome charm." Genma stated as he pulled out a pair of high-class suits from the robes of his white gi and offered one to Ranma.

The raven-haired teen chuckled and pushed away the suit for him. "I don't think these… people will appreciate your fine tastes, Good Sir."

Genma tugged at suit her was wearing, having changed in a blink of an eye and shook his head. "Then we'll teach them the meaning of class. It's our duty as martial artists and as gentleman!" He shouted, pointing a finger at the air dramatically and hopped down.

Ranma rolled his eyes as Genma strode confidently towards the nightclub. Many eyes kept track of him, dangerous eyes.

The ponytailed teen groaned and hopped down.

This is won't end well.

It never ends well.

"Pop's, we're on a space station." Ranma repeated once more as he stared blankly into the infinite void that was space.

"Yes, yes we are." Genma answered again, a similar expression crossing his face as he traced circles on the thick glass window. He still couldn't believe it, even with proof right infront of his eyes.

They were in space!


Genma swallowed.

"Pop's, we're on a space station." Ranma repeated again.

"Yes, yes we are."

Ranma slowly tilted his head to his father and stared at him with wide eyes and a paling face. "W-where, w-what, t-t-t-t-t-t-the," The ponytailed teen stuttered, his mouth a mess of scrambled movements.

Genma Saotome slapped his son in the face.

Ranma froze, blinking and slowly rubbed his bruising cheek after a few seconds.

He didn't utter a single word.

No replies, no shouts, not even a retort.

Ranma still shocked by everything looked at the old man once and then turned to face the window again.

Genma shook his head and grasped the teenaged martial artist's shoulders with both hands and spun him around. The Saotome Elder looked at his son, straight in his blank, disbelief eyes and said.

"Boy now's not the time to panic. It'll do no good and only cause us problems. And problems will only make things worse. We can't have that." Genma smiled and ruffled Ranma's hair. "You're a man, get your stuff together and act like one."

Ranma swallowed and nodded after a second of hesitation. Out of the corner of his eye he could see an actual space ship streaking by as it docked to the space station they were in. The site never grew old, despite seeing it happen for over an hour after they arrived here in one of the observational platforms.

They were just looking around when they stumbled onto it after a small scuffle over at the nightclub.

It took their breath away and dispelled the dim hopes of being somewhere familiar.

They were in space, on a space station, with honest to god aliens.

"Old man, do you have any clue how we got here?" Ranma asked after another minute of staring into the void.

Genma rubbed his chin as the gears in his head turned.

He came to one conclusion.

"Look, I'm not saying it was aliens."

Ranma raised an eyebrow.

"But I'm pretty sure it was aliens." Genma crossed his arms and nodded, "Chinese aliens to be exact."

"…" Ranma stared at his father long and hard, "Chinese aliens?"

"Definitely, there can be no other explanation. You know it to be true, just look in your heart."

"…I think I'll use my brain instead." Ranma replied dryly and rolled his eyes. "How can they even be Chinese? They! Are! Aliens!"

Genma shook his head sadly, tsking. "My boy, don't you know? The Chinese have one of everything, even aliens."

"Uh huh, I'm sure they do." Ranma muttered as he pulled on his ponytail, cursing silently at his old man's stupidity.

"You haven't seen what I've seen, you're still so young." Genma clutched his chest and closed his eyes. "It pains me to see such ignorance in today's youth."

"The only one ignorant here is you." Ranma snapped back, quenching the urge beat some sense into Genma. "We can't blame everything on the Chinese."

The burly man frowned as he considered this. "And why not?"

Ranma answered in a slow and clear voice. "Because, it's bad and isn't true?"

"Experience tells me otherwise." Genma answered after a second of heavy thinking.

"And those would b-"

Genma silenced his son a raised hand and jerked a thumb behind him. Ranma leaned over and looked at the closed door as his sharp ears picked up the rush of footsteps echoing the metallic floor. He counted a dozen separate footsteps in all, and all were out for blood.

Their blood and they'll be here in a two or three minutes.

His eyebrow twitched as the raven haired teen glanced at his father, busy pulling out a nunchuck out of his suit and back at the door. "Think it's those aliens from the nightclub?"

Genma snorted. "Who else could it be?"

"Maybe you shouldn't have shattered that four- eyed aliens arm."

"Maybe he shouldn't have pulled a gun on me."

"Maybe you shouldn't have shoved him out line."

"Maybe he shouldn't have been infront me!"

Ranma rolled his eyes and didn't reply.

"Do you want a weapon?" Genma said as he gave the nunchuck a few test spins. "They have guns, you know."

"Oh wow, guns. I'm shaking in my boots." Ranma snorted. "But, I'll take the Bo staff."

"You want to use it here? This hallway's is pretty cramped."

"I didn't notice that. Not one bit. Thank you for that, Father." Ranma answered with a straight, smiling face as he caught the staff without batting an eye.

Genma sighed. "Right… ambush then?

"Ambush," Ranma grinned.

Naritsugu wasn't a good man.

Not after living on Omega for the past few years. He came here from Earth to start fresh, to be his own man and away from his parents, who constantly pressured him to be great, to be famous.

And he just couldn't take it anymore.

It was too much.

No, no it wasn't. Naritsugu thought as he shook his head. Not compared to Omega.

"Hurry up, let's get this over with!" The Krogan up ahead bellowed as he pumped his Scimitar shotgun and charged ahead of the group.

There were about a dozen mercenaries here including Naritsugu. All hired to take out a pair humans who managed to acquire the ire of some rich Batarian slob. He didn't pay attention to the details only that he was offering a sizable amount of credits for them, dead or alive.

They managed to track them down to observational decks over the course of an hour from tips given through beatings or under the barrel of a gun.

And now those idiots are going to get it.

They all dashed out of an alley into a broad road lined with storehouses that had seen better days. They were getting close. This was where the pair was last sighted only minutes ago.

"This is overkill. A dozen armed men against two people." A Turian muttered behind him as the mercenary group fanned out in pairs and searched the buildings one by one.

"Easy credits, don't complain" Naritsugu smiled, drawing his Edge pistol and went for an unsearched building. The Turian followed, drawing an Avenger assault rifle.

They quickly went room to room, the Human and Turian each covering the others back as they searched for their targets.

And they found nothing as did the other teams when they regrouped at the road.

But other than them, only four other teams returned.

They waited.

"Nothing," The Krogan grumbled after a few minutes of waiting. "Something happened to them." He grinned. "I guess they are here. Where did they last check?"

A Salarian pointed to a far off building to the left. The Krogan grunted and ran towards it, holding his shotgun with one hand as the other group members followed, covering him as they aimed their weapons at the other buildings and alleys.

Naritsugu shivered and not from the cold damp air. He was sure something was watching them, waiting for the chance to strike. Yet he couldn't spot anything and neither could anyone else.

They only saw shadows and heard only the echoes of their actions.

It unnerved them all, this haunting silence.

Omega was never this quiet.

Only the Krogan was unaffected as he, Naritsugu and four others went to search the building with four merc's posted outside to watch the entrance.

Four harden men, armed to the teeth.

They vanished without a sound and left two broken bodies in their place as everyone returned after a fruitless search.

It was the previous team and it was all Naritsugu could do not to lose his lunch.

One of them, a Batarian, unconscious with a puddle of blood oozing out of his mess of a face. His hands were mangled and broken beyond recognition. They looked like little more than raw chunks of meat with bone sticking out. His weapon an executioner shotgun was torn in two and laid right next to him.

He was the normal one.

The other…

Oh god, the other.

Naritsugu had to pinch himself to make sure it was real.

There, lying infront of them was an unconscious human, the other missing merc.

He was perfectly fine on all accounts.

Only his body was twisted impossibly to the shape of a pretzel.

And he was still alive, screaming at them with a mouth that uttered no sound.

Someone emptied out their lunch behind him.

"Spirits, what are dealing with?" The Turian breathed mandibles and eyes wide. Naritsugu could only nod in agreement.

The Krogan, he only grinned harder. Growling, he pumped his shotgun again and stalked into the streets beating his chest with his free hand. "I know you're out there! Fight me! Face me, cowards! Come out from the shadows and show me your mettle!"

His challenge was met with a roaring laugh that seemingly echoed all around them. Guns where aimed at all corners, at all shadows, at all rooftops, everywhere they could see as their owners tried to identify the source.

They came up with nothing as silence once again reigned throughout the street.

Naritsugu's heart nearly tore out of his chest with its ever-increasing tempo. Sweat rolled down his brow and stung at his eyes. He wiped it with a shaky hand as he eyed everything with suspicion. The Mercenary felt what's left of the group doing the same.

"This is out of our league! We leave and get reinforcements!" The Salarian whispered angrily at the Krogan.

"What about the others?" Naritsugu quietly asked.

"Gone, screw them. They're dead." The Salarian answered and eyed the human pretzel and shuddered. "Possibly worse, it's best to save ourselves."

The Turian whirled on the Salarian. "No way, we're not leaving. My buddy was taken by those…"

"Humans, our employer said they were humans." The Salarian finished.

"Humans don't turn other humans into pretzel." Naritsugu added grimly.

"No one's leaving, we finish the job." The Krogan answered with finality and chuckled. "This is getting to be fun."

"For us," Two voices, their targets spoke at once. Each voice echoing the opposing sides of the road.

Guns were pointed at each side and found nothing but shadows.

They stayed like that for what seemed to be hours in Naritsugu mind. Exhaustion crept upon him. It was the tension! It at them all, gnawing at their focus and will.

And it was too much for one, a human, Jake -Naritsugu recalled- broke and ran down the street.

"Get back here!" The Krogan screamed, threating the deserter with his shotgun.

Jake didn't answer and sprinted full tilt avoiding the shadows and alleyways, staying in only the lit areas.

It didn't help him.

Before he could make fifteen meters a black blur intercepted Jake, materializing out of the shadows and smacked him with something. Naritsugu couldn't see it. It was that fast. So fast that it triggered Jake's barriers and shattered them in one blow. Another smacked Jack in the head and the other sent him soaring back to wince he came.

By the time everyone responded it was too late, the blur vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

Jake's unconscious crashed into Naritsugu, spilling blood and broken teeth all over the mercenary. He scrambled back, biting back a scream as he dropped his pistol and muttered gibberish as all blood left his face.

He looked up as another body; a Batarian crashed into the Salarian and bowled him over. And another, and another, and one more, till the previous team was all accounted for. The bodies were just like the Batarian from the first team, broken and bleeding but still alive.
Why are they still alive? Naritsugu thought. Why? Do they like seeing people suffer?

If it wasn't for the Krogan, ready his shotgun to rip apart anyone who ran. Naritsugu would have done that right then and there as would everyone else. Except for the Turian, who shimmered with rage as the former solider found his friend, another Turian.

"…D-d-d-did you see how fast that thing moved!?" The Salarian all but screamed, pointing a shaky pistol at the shadows, every shadow.

"Yes, I did." The Krogran grinned. "We're going after it, now!"

"You're crazy, you're going to get slaughtered you brute! We should get out of here now while we still have some smil-"

The Krogan whacked the Salarian with the butt of his shotgun, cracking his skull and sent him to an early grave. Blood, bone, and brain drooled over the road.

Everyone stared at the senseless murder before them.


"Why?" Naritsugu breathed.

The Krogan spat. "Didn't mean too, might have misjudged my strength," he shrugged. "Oh-"

The blurs descended upon them at that moment. No, appeared in their midst, attacking before anyone realized what was going on. Bodies flew and not under their own power. What was left of the band of mercenaries was barely given time to scream before they crashed into nearby buildings, knocked senselessly by blows too fast for the mortal eye to see.

Naritsugu coughed, spitting blood as stars danced around head. He swam in and out of conscious and shook his head. The stars barely cleared, but he could see and the sight before his eyes was one that would never leave him for as long as he lived.

Krogans were said to be one of the strongest, toughest races in the galaxy. Pound for pound, body to body no other race could handle them with physical might.

Only another Krogan could.

And there, infront of him was a human, a Japanese teenager dressed in clothes that hadn't been in style for centuries. He overtook the Krogan in a contest of physical strength. Their hands were locked together and he was forcing stupid lizard to his knees with a cold grin. The Krogan slammed his face forward in a head-butt and was met by one from his foe.

The Krogan fell, unconscious, his bone plate cracked under the force of the teenager's skull. He lifted the reptilian's body with casual, despite it weighing close to a ton and threw it off into the distance and smirked.

"Did you have your fun, boy?" A burly man in a suit strode into view, cleaning a bloodied nunchuck of all things with a white rag.

He snorted. "What'd you think old man?"

Naritsugu blinked and move, to crawl, to get away. But his traitorous body wouldn't respond to his calls. He growled in frustration and-

"Oh? Someone's still up."

His heart stilled.

The burly clad man walked towards Naritsugu. The man's powerful muscles rippled underneath his suit as knelt infront of the mercenary and smiled. "Can you understand me?"

"Y-yes," Naritsugu coughed.

"Good, now we're a bit lost here and we need some questions answered. Can you do that?"

Naritsugu nodded, swallowing.

Genma Saotome clapped his hands, "Wonderful, let's get started and don't try lying to me. It won't end well."

"The future, we're in the future." Genma said his heart burdened with a mounting despair.

"Ya, I'll believe it when I see it." Ranma muttered, scowling at everyone and everything from on top the rooftop they were in.

"That man was telling the truth, you know, I know." Genma snorted though it came out as more of a weak chuckle.

"We might have knocked him around too much. We did go a bit overbroad…" Ranma said, staring at his father straight in the eye.

"We did, I admit, we did." Genma agreed, scratching the back of his neck. "But they were aliens. Who knows what they could do!?"

"And they were weak aliens at that, even the giant lizard dude." Ranma interjected, sighing. "I'd thought they'd be more like…"

Genma crossed his arms, "Saiyans?"

"Ya, like that." Ranma pulled out a pistol he looted from the mercenary the interrogated and gave it a critical eye. "And they use bullets too."

"Small ones at that, and they're pretty fast. I could barely see them in flight." Genma admitted as he pulled out a shotgun from out of nowhere in particular.

"I wish I could."

"What was that, boy?" Genma blinked, turning towards his son.

"Nothing, pop's," Ranma sighed and tilted his head. "You know, I'd thought they'd be using plasma weapons or lasers and powered armor like the military uses."

Genma shrugged. "Maybe they're cheap? The guy did say that these guns technically had infinite ammo. "

"I don't know they had personal shields." Ranma rubbed his chin and glanced at his father. "Those sort things are reserved for the military's best."

"But these ones are weak. We shattered them with barely any effort at all."

"Still, it was a surprise that they had them in the first place." Ranma looked at the pistol again and frowned. "We're not going to sell them right?"
"No, of course not, these are guns." Genma shook his head. "You know better, boy. We don't peddle with things that do other harm. Destroy them."

Ranma nodded as he gripped the pistol with his other hand, tearing it in two and tossed the ruined halves down the street like trash.

Genma did the same with his shotgun and shoved his hands in his suits pockets. "Well, what should we do now?"

"We need to get of this space station, Omega and back to Earth."

The burly man rolled his eyes. "Of course we will but we need transportation first."

"We could sneak into one." Ranma suggested.

Genma shook his head. "I thought of that but it might be best if we do things legally in this case."

"I don't think they'll accept what we're carrying. We need new cash… no, credits and some way to understand what these aliens and most humans are saying."

Genma snapped his fingers, smiling, "Universal translators! We need one of those."

"Of course, but again, we need credits."

"We could try exchanging our Yen notes here for that electronic stuff." Genma suggested. Both Saotome's were a bit miffed when they found out about that particular brand of stuff.

Ranma slowly looked around Omega's scenery. "Considering the type of place we're at I… doubt anyone here would accept our stuff. We need to go somewhere a bit more respectable first."

Genma frowned. "What then?

"I don't… pit fights?"

"Sure, why not."

"Vido, are you still not believing what you see?" Zaeed Massani asked, leaning forward from his seat and watching the impossible spectacle before him.

"…Yes." Vido Santiago swallowed. "Yes, I am and I still can't believe it what I'm seeing."

"Same here, but this kid here is doing the impossible!" The Blue Sun's co-founder exclaimed as he watched said kid fighting off a trio of enraged Krogans in Omega's and winning. The ponytailed teen was even yawning, evidently bored despite the odds stacked against him.

The crowd loved every second of it as they whooped and cheered for the boy, Ranma, Zaeed recalled. And Ranma loved their attention in turn as he showboated and played his opponents like a fiddle.

The cheers nearly deafened Zaeed's ears as Ranma sent one Krogan flying with a shoulder to the gut and another with a kick to the chest. The last one only barely managed to realize his comrade's fate before he found his legs taken out from under him with a leg sweep. As the Krogan hanged mid-air Ranma grasped his legs and started to spin like a wild top.

After several furious seconds Ranma let go and sent the Krogan flying and crashed into his allies just as they were rising. The lizard barfed out whatever crap Krogans ate a soon after.

Ranma still spun, slower and slower till he came to a halt. His eyes bounced around his head as he stumbled like a drunk. He shook it off by slapping himself and grinned as he saw his handy work.

"Boy! Just finish them off already!" A voice bellowed throughout the lower stands, drowning out all other sounds.

Zaeed looked down and saw a bald, burly man dressed in one of those old martial arts gi's rubbing his forehead and muttering something under his breath. Rubbing his chin, the Mercenary Commander tapped Vido's chest and pointed at the man below. "I have a gut feeling that he's the kid's father."

"Likely," Vido agreed and leaned forward, glancing at Zaeed. "You think he's just like the kid, Ranma?"

"Defiantly, likely better than him too," Zaeed crossed his arms and turned his attention back to the arena fight.

Ranma whipped the sweat off his brow, leaning against the chain linked cage that encased the arena. He sighed as he waited for the trio of Krogans to finish recovering. Despite the pounding the Krogans were taking they were all grinning madly as they rushed at the invincible human before them.

"Do you think he's using biotics to do what he's doing?"

Zaeed shook his head. "I've seen and fought my fair share of biotic users and whatever that kid's doing… it isn't biotics. For one, he's not glowing like all biotics do when they use their powers and two he's not using any of their powers at all. What he's doing is beating around Krogan like rag dolls with impossible speed, strength and skill."

"Is he even human then?" Vido asked, staring with wide eyes as Ranma vanished in a blur and reappeared in the midst of the Krogan trio and took them apart piece by piece.

"Have you ever heard of the term superhuman?" Zaaed asked over the sound bone breaking and the screams that accompanied them.

"…Yes, of course I have. Who hasn't?" Vido muttered and shook his head. "If these people are superhuman then where have they been right now? Why hasn't anyone heard of them?"

The ground shook, interrupting Zaeed's reply as Ranma performed a piledriver of all things the last Krogan. The giant lizards bone plate that covered the top of his head cracked, earning winces from all the other Krogan cheerfully waiting in line to fight the Ponytailed teenager.

"I have no clue, but the scene that their making here is bound to get out if it hasn't already." Zaeed said and glanced at the other, notable spectators watching Ranma intently. "I see one of Aria's lieutenants watching even now and some of the local heads of the other major merc secs here."

Vido nodded, "And likely others too. I think every Krogan from the Blood Pack is here waiting for a chance to fight, Ranma."

"How long has he been fighting anyways?"

"Before we got here, an hour at least, nearly non-stop."

"And how long has it been since then?"

"Nearly two," Zaeed answered.

"You know, we did come here personally to recruit new blood and set up shop." Vido rubbed his chin. "And they might help getting out of here when this is done. People will be gunning for them."

"It'll be a shame if they die." Zaeed said, grinning.

"Yes, yes it will." Vido shook his head. "Did you get the father's name by any chance?"

"I think his name's Genma."

Vido rose, dusting himself off. "How should we do this?"

"Easy, like always, you pitch and I guard." Zaeed answered and chuckled grimly. "Just try not to get dad there angry. I can't protect you from him or the kid."

Vido glanced at Ranma as he toyed with another wave of Blood Pack Krogan, half a dozen this time and at his father, Genma who sat there, examining a credit chit with a curious expression.

He wasn't even paying attention to his son's fight.

Vido winced. "Ya, I'll try not to."