Subject: [fanfic][beta] BGC/Ranma: The Circe Project part 9
From: Nicholas Leifker
Date: 5/3/1997, 3:28 AM
To: Fanfic ML


Leifker presents...

The Circe Project

Part 9

All Ranma 1/2 characters created by Rumiko Takahashi.  All Bubblegum 
Crisis characters created by Kenichi Sonoda.  All others created by me.  
All rights reserved.

Obligatory darkfic warning: This is a darkfic.  If it gives you 
nightmares or causes you to want to wear black for awhile, IT'S NOT MY 
FAULT!!!!

What has gone before, in a nutshell.  If you've already read the previous 
chapters, feel free to skip this bit.

The Knight Sabers take a job to raid a bioengineering lab in China.  One 
problem: the lab happens to be situated next to Jusenkyo.  All of the 
Sabers save Sylia are dunked in the springs in battle, including Mackie, 
and Linna is missing-presumed-dead.  Now, Mackie changes into a girl, 
Priss into a cat, and Nene into a toy poodle.  To replace Linna, Mackie 
is made a full-fledged Saber (complete with shapely hardsuit), and a 
young martial artist named Nodoka Hibiki (Ranma's grandkid) is added to 
the team.  Linna returns months later, having survived a dunk into the 
Nannichuan, as the final heir to the Niichieju (i.e. Chinese Amazon) 
school of martial arts, with her mentor Shampoo in tow.  

Meanwhile, strange events have been happening - unexplained 
disappearances of enemies or opponents of Genom.  Turns out that 
everyone's favorite evil-megacorp has developed a way of crudely 
replicating the curse, with a far slower and far more permanent 
transformation.  Rock star Vision has already fallen to this.  Also, 
Sylia has been hit, though, due to her bioware, she will not survive a 
transformation...

Anyway, now that I've bored you to tears, on with the show.

**************************************************************************

     "Computer, Access.  Stingray, Mackie, form 1."  Mackie lifelessly 
placed his hand on the palmpad, his body still trembling from the blow, 
while every instinct screamed for him to run.  A moment later, titanium 
and ceramic slid open to allow him into the inner sanctum.

     The computer room within was, in some respects, the true home of the 
Knight Sabers, ever since the original was destroyed months ago.  It was 
in here that the first paladin of the Sabers wielded her magic, refined 
the design and construction of the third-generation hardsuits, and 
assembled the data needed to fight the battles to come.  Within its walls 
lay secrets to freeze lesser souls, facts and figures capable of toppling 
empires and laying waste to lives and careers.  For this reason, only 
Sylia was ever allowed inside.  

     Unfortunately, the white paladin had fallen, the victim of 
assassination.  Left in her place was the only one who could be trusted 
with such secrets, a former page now forced to rule.  

     The chair in the center seemed too large for him.  He was only 
eighteen, the youngest of all of the Sabers.  He would not be allowed 
access to most of his family's fortune until his twenty-first birthday, 
yet entrusted to him was a legacy that his father and sister had died to 
protect.  Hesitantly, almost reverently, the young man lowered himself 
into the chair.

     In an instant, Sylia's face appeared on the screen.  Gone was the 
smile she normally wore, as the business to be dealt with was grave 
indeed.  The image sighed, almost as a spirit gone.  

     "Mackie... if you are hearing this, than I have died, and you are 
now in charge of the organization known as the Knight Sabers.  Right now, 
you probably feel like screaming, or crawling away, but there is 
regrettably no time for sorrow.  If you need solace, there is a family 
out there who needs your love and guidance just as you need theirs.  
Please, Mackie... mourn me once the job is done.  This crusade is far 
more important than one life, or the lives of a half-dozen.  In this 
case, all humanity may be at stake."

     Mackie's eyes misted over as Sylia's words came to him.  He had 
barely known his sister... she had kept so many secrets that it's a 
wonder they didn't drive her mad.  

     And now, as each terrible truth came to him from beyond the grave, 
he realized... the secrets were his to take care of.  

****************************************************************************

     "Mackie?  Mackie, open the door this insta-"

     The doors slid open, allowing Nodoka into the sanctuary.  She 
stared, wide-eyed, at the mammoth computer surrounding her, then at the 
chair in the middle of it all.  

     "Mackie, are you all right?  Please... talk to me, love."  

     "You shouldn't be in here, Nodoka. *sigh* Then again, I shouldn't 
be in here."  She stiffened involuntarily at the voice.  There was little 
doubt as to who it belonged to, but it felt so... cold, so lifeless.  The 
words echoed through the chamber, giving them a ghostly feel.  

     The martial artist walked around to face the chair and its shattered 
occupant.  The ghosts in his eyes would be enough to frighten a stranger.  
To a loved one, they were heart-rendering.  She swallowed, and tried the 
only thing she knew.  

      "Mackie... when I was nine, Grandfather and Grandmother Saotome 
decided to take me on a training trip.  Grandfather was still the master 
of the school at the time, so it was up to him to train me.  I remember 
saying goodbye to Mom and Dad, and their wishing me a good time, and 
saying they'd miss me, and that they...loved me.  If I'd only known..."  
She choked back ancient tears.  

     "Three days into the trip, Kanto hit.  I... I remember Grandmother 
holding me, protecting me while Grandfather somehow stood his ground 
in... that.  A tree was falling toward us, and... I remember how 
Grandmother tightened her grip, to shield me from it.  It fell, and we 
were trapped underneath.  I was okay, I guess, but Grandmother was hurt.  I 
could see the tears, the pain in her eyes... then we both looked up.  
Grandfather was there.  There was a look, an understanding that passed 
between them, just before he demolished the tree.  The pain didn't go 
away... but it was like it didn't matter anymore.  I was too young to 
understand then, but I do now."

     "Mackie, look at me."  She grabbed his chin, and forced him up to 
eye level.  "LOOK AT ME.  We can get through this, but only if we get 
through it together.  Right now you're probably hurting more than any 
person should; heck all of us are hurting right now.  But... right now, 
what we need is each other, to be able to trust our souls to one another 
and get through this.  If we don't go on, Genom will find out who we 
are... and pick us off, one by one."  She grabbed one of his hands 
reassuringly, to coax him out of his stupor, and smiled.  "Well?"  

     For the first time, Mackie stared back at his love, as though 
through a fog.  He blinked tears away, then nodded slowly.  
"Nodoka-chan... I... We... We've got work to do."  He returned Nodoka's 
grip, the light returning slowly to his eyes.  "We've got one last job to 
do as the Knight Sabers, and it's not going to be easy."

****************************************************************************

     Christmastime abounded, especially in Nene Romanova's haven.  Red 
and green streamers lined the walls, jolly St. Nick smiled in welcome 
from posters and from shelves, and a small, cozy tree sat off in a corner.  
Put simply, the place reeked of joy and merry celebration.  

     Beneath the tree, next to some pushed-aside gifts, a toy poodle sat 
in mourning, tears trying to wash away her sorrows.  Occasionally a 
low whine would emanate from her jaws but, other than that, the creature 
showed no sign of life.

     At that moment, Nene didn't want to be human.  Human beings poisoned 
the land, twisted nature's magic, and killed each other for petty greed.  
She had been a part of it for twenty years now, and she'd had enough.
  
     Sylia's death had been the last straw.  They'd taken a good friend 
from her, and had used their cold science to try to change her into 
something less than "human".  Well, if that was Genom's idea of "humanity", 
then she wanted out.  Better to live as a pet, there only to give and 
receive love, and to be let out on occasion to do doggie business.  

     A chime.  Nene stared at the door for a moment, then went back to 
her sulkings.  If it was important, they could let themselves in; if not, 
then they didn't belong.  

     The security system began its workings, its soft, masculine tone 
announcing the use of the override.  The door slid open a moment later as a 
good friend forced her way inside.  

     "Nene?  Nene, are you alright?"  Linna searched the apartment 
hurriedly, panic and fear thick in her voice.  She relaxed as she saw the 
poodle huddled under the tree, and moved to pick her up.  Nene shied 
away from the advances at first, then seemed to realize the futility of 
resistance.  

     Linna shook the poodle's paw playfully, then went over to the 
bathroom, pet in hand.  "Come on, Nene.  Let's get some hot water for 
you."  

     The poodle barked, and shook her head 'no'.  

     "What is it, Nene?  Don't you want to return to normal?"

     Another negative.  Linna stared hard at her friend, then went over 
to the couch, still cradling Nene in her arms. 

     "Nene... this is not something you can run away from.  I know it 
hurts; Sylia was my friend too.  But... we'll never get anywhere by 
hiding from it."  Tears started to flow from the cursed woman's eyes.  
"Because... right now, we're all we have left."

     Nene stared up at her friend's eyes.  She could see the pain of 
Sylia's death there quite plainly, but there was something else hidden 
there, a fear she couldn't quite fathom.  She stayed in the warmth of 
Linna's arms for awhile, acting as her company even as Linna tried to act 
as hers.  

*****************************************************************************

     Mackie sat stoically in the office chair, the emotions raging inside 
well-hidden from anyone watching.  He didn't want to be the new head of 
the Knight Sabers; he knew full well the headaches Sylia had over the 
job.  Dealing with the nuances of the team - making sure Priss didn't go 
off on her own, Nene didn't hack her way into Genom HQ (without 
permission, of course), or Linna didn't get too involved with the 
'friend' of the week - had been a murderous chore, one he wanted no part 
of.  Sighing, he pushed a button on the desk, allowing the visitor 
inside. 

     "Hello, Mackie."  Priss' soprano was cold, icy, anger holding back 
the pain. 

     "Hello, Priss.  I... I was hoping we could discuss a few things 
before the team meets tomorrow."  He felt so small in the chair, almost 
ready to shrink down to nothing.  Priss just flashed one of her stares on 
him - the kind of stare that screamed trouble.  Her voice seemed to rise 
in tone with each word, the rant building to furious climax.  

     "Mackie.  I want to know why in the world Sylia decided to place a 
teenaged, hormone-overloaded, rookie half-girl Saber in charge of this 
operation!"  Her face twitched, holding back more... choice insults.  

     "Priss... stuff it."  She blinked; she hadn't expected him to hold 
his ground.  "Right now we've got a job to do, and we can't afford petty 
s*** like that."  He sighed, and relaxed slightly.  "For what it's worth, 
Sylia agreed with you, to an extent."  

     This did little to help Priss' temper.  "To an extent?"

     Mackie smiled wryly.  "I am the head of the Knight Sabers 
organization.  This means I am in charge of building and maintaining the 
hardsuits and motoslaves, handling the day-to-day finances of the 
business, and overseeing the business decisions.  This does not mean, 
however, that I am in charge of the Sabers in the field."  

     Priss wasn't sure what to make of the news.  "Huh?"

     "I guess what I'm trying to say is... Priss, as of now, you are the 
field commander of the Knight Sabers.  You are in charge of issuing 
commands and coordinating the movements of the Sabers when in battle."  
Mackie stood up, and locked eyes with the new commander.  "However, there 
are three rules you have to follow."  

     The young woman snorted.  She didn't like rules much.  "What are 
they?" 

     Mackie raised his hand, and started counting them off.  "One: You 
never show disrespect to me when we're out in the field.  I am the head 
of this organization.  I will respect your command decisions, assuming 
you follow the other two rules.  Two: you continue to follow the code, 
especially that bit about no solo actions.  You are in charge of the team 
now, and they are going to need your guidance.  I don't want to bring 
bodies home because you lost your cool."

     "What... you think I can't stay calm in a battle situation?"  Priss 
looked ready to storm out of the room.

     "I didn't say that.  However, you have been known to go on your own 
on occasion.  That has to end - for all our sakes."  

     The young woman slumped in her chair.  Truth, if painful truth.  She 
sighed, and waited for Mackie to finish his speech. 

     "And three... Largo is mine."

     Priss nearly fell out of her chair.  "Largo?"  

     "Largo."

****************************************************************************

     Ranma Saotome sat deep in thought at home... or, at least, a home.  
His real home, the place where he had met his wife, raised his daughter and 
granddaughter, and taught his students for decades, had been demolished in 
favor of a factory for making small automobiles.  He'd come to appreciate 
the more modern apartment/office building around him since then, but it just 
wasn't the same.  

     It was on nights like this that he wondered if perhaps he'd lived too 
long.  He was a survivor, always a survivor - the world had a habit of 
placing challenges in front of him, small wars for him to fight and to 
win.  He'd gone through so many unscathed, but his family and friends... 
they hadn't been so lucky.  Sylia was simply the most recent, the last 
name in a list far too long for his taste.  He sat back, and felt the heat 
of his friend next to him.  

     His friend.  It was all that he could think of to call her.  Akane 
was his wife, and always would be.  He still wore the wedding band she'd 
given him.  However, he would probably grow old and die with the Amazon 
next to him.  The small difference was the only way to stay sane.  The 
scars from the tragedy were not fully healed, as today's events so 
painfully reminded him.  At least tonight he had someone to comfort him, 
someone to share in his sorrow.  

     "Ranma.." Shampoo whispered to him, her soft accent making him 
smile, "what you thinking about?"

     Ranma swallowed.  Things like this were always difficult for him to 
talk about.  "About... about us.  Sometimes I wonder why we've survived 
as long as we have, when younger people like Sylia... or Ranko..."

     "Shush."  Shampoo placed a finger to his lips.  "I not know why, but 
I know it for reason.  Hibachan once tell me death have purpose, just as 
life have purpose.  I... I wonder too, after village... die.  Then I find 
Linna, and I know.  I must carry on knowledge, just as Hibachan carry on 
knowledge to me.  Also, must help get revenge.  Linna may not be blood, 
but she family, and she warrior."  

     "Ranma... you find reason one day.  I think sooner than you 
expect."  

****************************************************************************

     "Where is he...?"

     Priss paced away in her love's apartment, not-so-patiently awaiting 
his return to her loving arms.  Being a cop's girlfriend was harrowing 
enough; an ADPolice officer was asked to stop the flood of Boomer crimes 
with a teacup's worth of equipment.  But now... now she was a hunted 
cop's girlfriend.  He had tried to stop Largo before, and had helped in 
his supposed destruction at Genom Tower last year.  This made him a 
serious target, one whose life was in frightening danger.  Almost 
unconsciously, she picked up a pillow from the couch and hugged it close 
to her, taking comfort in the smell of him lingering there.  

     She remembered the first night she had waited like this.  She had 
been a slim girl of seventeen then; only four years ago, but to her, 
lifetimes.  Glenn, her boyfriend, had been agitated for several days about 
something, but it would be months before she found out all the details.  
He had said he would be home by eleven; she'd waited patiently for him to 
come.  By midnight, the tears had soaked into her pillow.  At dawn, the 
call had come to identify his body.

     ADPolice, due to the Tower's influence, had called Glenn's death an 
'accident'.  She knew better.  It took a lot of explaining from Leon about 
that before she could trust him with anything. 

     And now... the ADPolice officer would be the 'accident victim'.  She 
bit her lip, praying there wouldn't be another body to cry over.  

     "Priss."  

     She turned around.  Daley, Leon's partner in crime, entered the 
apartment, and took off his jacket.  Seeing the look on her face, he went 
over to her.  "Priss... what's the matter?"

     She brushed a lock of hair from her face, and tried her best 'tough 
girl' voice.  "It's nothing."

     "Suuuure.  Come on, it's just 'us girls' here.  You can tell me."

     Priss smiled despite herself.  Daley's 'femme' act always made her 
smile.  She didn't protest when he led them to the couch.  

     "I'm sorry, Daley.  It's just that I'm so afraid he's not coming 
back.  I... I've already lost so many friends... I can't bear to lose 
him."  

     Daley put his arms around her, and gave her a friendly hug.  "Priss, 
I know right now you're frightened; Leon told me some of what you've been 
through lately.  But, for once, trust in him.  He'll come back; you just 
need a bit of faith."

     For once, the retrothrash singer and vigilante was at a loss.  She'd 
been without faith for so long; could she afford to trust in it again?  
Faith didn't return her parents, or bring Glenn home alive, or save 
Sylvie... trusting in something so unreliable seemed a foolhardy gesture 
at best.

     Her tear-misted eyes opened, and looked at the picture on the wall.  
The man staring back at her beamed with confidence, and something more: 
love.  There was a comfort in the stance, a peace she never knew in him 
until the secrets were laid bare.  Strangely enough, the woman next to 
him in the picture shared in the peace.  The woman smiled casually, with 
a gentleness she thought impossible in herself, and for once wasn't 
looking at the world from a cynic's eye.  It seemed an ideal to her, a 
life away from the darkness she'd lived with for so long, and was sorely 
tired of.  

     Perhaps... perhaps there was reason to trust in it one more time.  

****************************************************************************

     Mackie rubbed her eyes, and looked at the clock one last time: 
Two-thirty.  The day was almost done for her, with the tasks of a 
lifetime compressed into hours.  She checked the computer for any 
problems, though she knew there wouldn't be any.  She was the best 
engineer there was, after all.  

     "Is it almost ready?"

     The young half-man smiled.  "Almost.  I know Sylia taught you how 
to operate one of these, but... are you sure you want to use one of these 
things?"

     The gray-haired woman scoffed at the comment.  "Mackie, I've been 
fighting monsters like this since your parents were in diapers.  Trust 
me, I'm ready."  Her voice took on a solemn tone with these last words.  

     Mackie simply nodded, understanding too well.  "Okay..."  She typed 
in a final command, and turned her head over to the hardsuit containers.  

     Of the containers, the seventh and final one opened with an almost 
theatrical hiss, revealing the warrior's armor.  The suit was a simple 
forest green, dark and forbidding.  The construction was typical for a 
close-combat fighter; less armor, more agility, with emphasis on 
short-range melee weaponry.  The suit's owner walked over and reverently 
examined the work of art.  

     "So... can I try it on now?"

     Mackie's reply came with a wry grin.  "Of course, Ranma.  Although 
the others aren't here to join in at the moment... welcome to the 
Knight Sabers."  

****************************************************************************

Hello.  

This will probably be the last work of anime fanfiction I release for 
awhile.  I am leaving the university for the summer on May 7, and will 
lose email access at that time.  I should be easy to reach through other 
methods, though, if need be, and hope to be back online with a new 
address sometime around mid-June.  Until then, I will be speaking at the 
Project A-Kon 8 fanfic panel, if anyone is interested.  

For those requesting "Clothes", I apologize for the delays.  All I can 
say is that the delays were for a very good reason.  

There are so many people I need to give thanks to, it would be 
impossible to thank all of them.  A few:  James "Zen" Bateman, Douglas 
Reeves, Sean Gaffney, Chris Willmore, Mike Loader, Jeanne Hedge, Kelly 
"skywise" Schultz, Sebastian Weinberg, Richard Lawson.

Take care, all.

Nicholas Leifker
nwl9354@unix.tamu.edu
http://http.tamu.edu:8000/~nwl9354
May 3, 1997