Switch here.� I apologize for the stall between this and the last posted
installment of this series.� Real Life, bitch that it is, had dealt such
an interesting blow to my school life last week.� Also, I apologize for 
mis-categorizing the series as a story with plot elements from Moldiver.� 
I had forgotten that mol-crystals also occur from Kishin Corps.� Gomen ne?

Now, onto Rain Man's currently Neon Genesis Evangelion - Ranma 1/2 - 
Nausicaa of the Valley of Wind - Kishin Corps (with elements from Stephen
King's Dark Tower, and elsewhere...) crossover:

---
The Zu presents


black wind

a many-things-x-over (mostly Ranma/NGE/Nausicaa)
by Rain Man:

authorschtuppff:  This took a lot of time and work.  And missing classes.  
You have no idea.  Really.  Apologies to all the folks who own these 
series. And to Stephen King, who is the source of a couple of the nifty 
lines in this.  Frank Herbert too of course.


Chapter 3:  sparks in a hot breeze
---

      "UGH."

      Consciousness.

      "Guh,"

      Cold.  Cold.  It was water.  No.  Something else.  Thicker.  It 
clung to him, slick and filmy, and vile, the color a sickly gray-green.  
Above him, a naked bulb swung slowly, as vibrations shook the room in a 
steady rumble that faded into the distance.  

      'Regen broth,' he thought.

      Lurching to his feet, he stumbled out of the vat, fell onto the 
smooth concrete like so much meat.  The air was warm, heavy with the 
smell of something foul that was not just the rusty smell of blood, and 
he shivered as he glanced down at himself, the deep blue-black bruises 
that covered everything, numerous wounds that were just starting to 
close.  But the lines of fire across his back, those were at least numb 
now.  He tried not to look at the ruin of his fingers, the nails torn 
off, the knuckles discolored from burns.

      'I must look like blueberry cheesecake - all yellow and white and 
purple.'  It's what SHE would say, dressed in her neat little brown 
uniform.  He almost laughed at that thought, winced instead. It hurt to 
breathe.  'Oh Hitomi...'

      Bloodstains on the floor, on the walls.  Some old, some new.  A few 
of them were his.

      Disoriented, he fell to the floor when the rumbling came again, and 
some of the thick slime in the tub spilled out, spattering his calves.

      Outside the steel slab of the door, he could sense them, hear their 
breathing.  And then, as he grit his teeth and pushed inside himself, 
their thoughts came, slowly, a trickle of concepts a little at a time.

      '... spy,... is ready... yes?'

      '... half... hour more... in the regen soup, Colonel.'

      He lost the thread of their thoughts then, as everything around him 
seemed to spin.  But he crawled to the flash, the reflection he saw 
beside the metal drainage grate in the corner.  Mind and body disciplined 
from birth, he forced burning muscles to work, to strain forward.  The 
smell of excrement grew stronger with each inch forward, but this mistake 
of the Enemy's (it was difficult to remember when he had begun to think 
of them as The Enemy), it was his only chance.  

      The fragment of glass glittered brightly to his eyes, and he nearly 
wept with relief as he felt his fingers clutch it, felt its edges cut 
lightly into him, fresh trickles of warm blood oozing out onto his palm.

      He closed his eyes, finally identifying the rumble that shook the 
room once more.

      The sound of a ground transport passing overhead, the rattle of 
those ancient ceramic rails; it gave him strength, it made him remember 
beyond the red haze of the last... were they hours?  Were they days?  
Weeks?

      He had been avoiding her.

      She had whispered to him, not too long before that, "I think I am 
in love with you."

      He had merely continued to take notes during the briefing.  

      "And the pick-up will be at 0200 after forty-eight hours.  Here," 
continued a man with white gloves and odd, lavender glasses had pointed 
to a contour map on the screen marked with a number of circles, "are the 
safe-houses we have available."

      "I think I am in love with you," she had repeated, looking intently 
at the points on the map, committing them to memory easily.  "Does that 
not mean anything," she had said softly, "to you, Ranma?"

      "Do not forget that the primary objective is reconnaissance.  It is 
not necessary to capture another unit for this mission, although that is 
most certainly a desirable possibility."

      He had been quiet when it was over, looking at nothing as the 
others filed out of the room.

      She had begun to walk away stiffly, stopped at the doorway, 
suddenly drooping, the strength in her ramrod straight posture seeming to 
desert her. She cleared her throat, started to speak and stopped several 
times.  He had wondered then, if she had noticed the tear on her cheek as 
he had said, voice reedy and soft as a barely detectable breeze, "We'll 
talk.  When I'm back."  

      How could he tell her that he simply had not been taught anything 
about love?  But the sight of her short, bobbed cut from behind as she 
walked away had stayed with him, and he remembered it every time the 
torturers did their work on him.

      Sometimes he wondered if he were not displeased with his immunity 
to the mind-altering drugs that made the physical torture the only 
alternative the Nazis could use.

      "Do you promise?" she had said, the back of her slender little hand 
rubbing at her eyes.

      The inch-thick steel bolts squeaked as they were worked back, and 
he forced himself to the absolute awareness of NOW.  He willed himself to 
relax, willed himself to breathe slowly, stretched out with senses and 
concentration, steeled himself to readiness, as the black boots clicked 
sharply, stepping into the dim light of the room.  His temples buzzed 
with the KILL routines in his head, like so many equations and numbers, 
taught to him by yet another woman, this one perhaps a decade or more 
older than the brown-haired teen who had declared her love for him so 
emphatically.  Those first fifty days were so blurry now, but the 
Captain's training had saved him again and again since then, how could it 
be so hard to remember her face?  He hoped that training would save him 
just one more time.  He found himself wanting to see Hitomi's face again, 
wanting to answer her questions the way she'd want him to.  

      "Hitomi," he whispered, gathering strength from the sound of it.

      He bit down on his tongue desperately, willing the new pain into 
concentration.  He needed to escape at least long enough to make his 
report about the things he had seen. The build-up of supplies, the 
declaration of martial law... the God-Soldiers parading in the streets 
before long lines of tanks and Melefs, the citizens forced to cheer.  And 
of course, the Secrets...  He needed to live, and not just for Hitomi.

      His legs did not work yet, his arms were still weak, and he needed 
to overpower two men (possibly armed with guns) using a piece of sharp 
glass.

      "Katsuragi-san would use," he whispered, "Kill pattern 4."

      So Ranma21 waited, imagining a coin balanced on the back of the 
hand with the improvised knife.

      The door was opening, and he said to himself in that last moment, 
"my life for the Vai Empire..."

---

      Misato pressed her cheek against the cold glass, watched her breath 
condense on it as she hummed an unfamiliar tune.

      "Still watching the Key?"

      Ritsuko stood before banks of blinking lights and columns and 
screens, instruments covered with glass and with a network of the fine, 
black crystalline lines of mol-crystal that linked them all to her mind.  
Those years long ago, her hair had been shaved to the skin for the first 
of the several operations that would connect the slender inch-long 
titanium-encased implants to the relevant nerves at the base of her 
brainstem.  It made her look even more coldly efficient than usual in the 
flashing blue lights of her instrumentation.  Narrow eyes of a color that 
changed depending on the light, she had an intense and unnerving gaze 
behind her wire-rimmed spectacles.  Her long white robes fairly gleamed 
from spotlessness, and her rigid posture spoke volumes about her mood to 
Misato.

      "If it does not disturb you," Misato said, "Doctor Akagi."

      "No, it does not.  But it makes me curious, Captain.  It is not 
like you."

      Misato straightened out the simple black tunic that was her own 
uniform before she sat on the stool beside the observation door.

      "Well, so here he is.  Think he's grateful that I 'rescued' him, 
Ritsuko?" said the lavender-haired woman.

      If Ritsuko had been the type of person who snorted to convey her 
disdain, she would have just snorted.  Instead, she merely tilted her 
head just so.

      "Irrelevant," she said.

      "Well," Misato murmured, "guess it doesn't matter.  I'm never going 
to have any contact with him again, huh?"

      Ritsuko said, dryly (it was a habit of hers to use that tone of 
voice almost constantly with Misato).  "Oh, really, my dear?  Isn't he a 
little young for that?"

      "... that's not funny, Ritsuko."

      The slight curve of bemusement at the corner of the Doctor's mouth 
was calculated just so to needle her companion.  "Something wrong, 
Misato?  Aren't things going well with your little mercenary band?"

      She just shook her head in response.  "My Corsairs are fine.  We 
took the smallest casualties amongst all the groups invading the Temples 
of Ix - I'll probably receive another medal or something.  No, it's not 
that, it's.  Well, I don't know, I guess.  I guess it's because the 
invasion was planned for so long, and now it's over and I was the one to 
find it."

      Ritsuko slid her fingers over the smooth, pale dome of her skull, 
still unused to the sensation of skin where once were her thick, curling 
locks.  She put it out of her mind and thought about the blank look on 
her friend's face.

      "You're disappointed, I see."

      "N-no.  Well.  Yes.  It was supposed to be such a big deal, right?  
This is THE vital component for whatever grand schemes the Princess 
Regent has - the most important artifact needed for the prophecies of the 
Blue Priesthood.  And I, I was the one who found him!  At first, I felt, 
okay, I guess - but then..."  

      Misato's voice trailed off, and as she closed her eyes, remembering 
but not remembering.  Had the boy really smiled?  She had been the one to 
give him a name, and there had been something about it that had 
displeased the priesthood, but somehow, she could not remember it.

      Misato tapped her fingers against the pale scars over her cheek, 
trying to remember again.  Strange things had happened that day, and - 
and there was still the disappearance of high priest Nakago from the 
site.  A part of her reflexively backed away from those thoughts, those 
almost-remembered moments (a flash of green light?  What was that?  
Screaming?), and then she forgot that she had been thinking of them at 
all.

      She shook her head.  "I guess I'm just a little irked that the boy 
is going to be put right back into another prison.  That I'll probably 
never see him after today."

      "Do you suddenly feel the need to be a mother?" interjected that 
cold, slightly mocking voice.

      "What?  What makes you ask that?" Misato said, startled as she 
looked back at Ritsuko, startled again by the sight of her without that 
crown of golden hair.  Startled a third time when she realized how 
intently she had been staring at Ranma just before.  How long had she 
been standing there?  She forced her lips into a wry little smile.  "I'm 
career military - I'll be the greatest female commander - no, the 
greatest commander in all the great history of the Torumekian Empire!  No 
babies for me!"

      Her hands opened, flexed, closed.  Even to herself, Misato's 
declaration had sounded a little weaker than usual, a little unsure.

      "I guess I just would have liked to get to know the kid, that's 
all," she said rather limply.  Her eyes wandered around the lab once 
more, unable to face the scorn in Ritsuko's gaze.

      The room was small, on one side cramped and crowded with the 
controlling machines and instruments of the laboratory, on the other side 
a clear wallof armored one-way glass.  The small gunmetal gray desk in 
the middle was where Ritsuko sat, still like a statue, still like a 
machine.

      Misato found herself looking through the glass again, at the boy 
who sat quietly in the darkness, wired to a hundred murmuring machines.

      "Captain Katsuragi, this boy - put him out of your mind.  You will 
not see him again.  You know that - the Program has changed."

      "The Nexus project?"

      Ritsuko pursed her lips, slightly irritated.  "No one is supposed 
to know of that."

      The tall woman in front of her shrugged, smiled somewhat 
helplessly.  "There are some good things about dating Kaji."

      "If he irritates you so much, I don't see how it's worth it.  In 
any case, Misato, I guess that particular intelligence leak won't matter.  
Soon, you, too, will be a part of the Nexus experiments."

      "Hah!" Misato exclaimed.  "No way!  I'll have campaigns to command 
and battles to win.  It'll have to be someone else you'll poke your 
needles in for the project.  I don't want to know anything about it."

      The older woman looked away, concealing the undefined, secret pain 
in her eyes.  "Ah," she said, "as you say, then, Captain Katsuragi..." 
Then she was staring at Misato, glad that the other woman was looking 
away.

      Misato was so much taller than her, and despite the strength in 
those graceful arms that could break most larger men in half, she was 
slender and curved in just the right places and so very beautiful.  Did 
it bother Ritsuko that the lavender-haired woman simply did not look the 
sort who slept alone?  

      "Why should I care?" she would say to herself some of the times 
when she was alone at night, thinking of Misato.  "Why should I care?"  

      But a part of her was bothered by the dual nature of her friend, 
who, despite her reputation as a vicious and competent warrior, had many 
rumors of a less respectful nature regarding her appearance and bed-
habits.  Often, Ritsuko forced herself to forget this part of her that 
cared, but watching her friend ("Friend" she would whisper in her 
thoughts so quietly) standing so forlornly there as she gazed at the 
glass of the stasis tank, bare shoulders looking oddly vulnerable despite 
the obvious strength in them...  It was so difficult sometimes.

      And so Ritsuko would wrap herself in the coldness of efficiency, in 
the emotionlessness that helped keep the chaotic little fragments she 
felt under control.  And her voice would be even colder and more 
mechanical, and her eyes would gleam like ice, as they did at that 
moment, coldly absorbing Misato's fascination with the boy.

      A man walked in, footsteps loud against the steel grille of the 
floor, and Doctor Akagi's face grew ever so frostier and stiffer.

      "Well, my two favorite women in all the world, what are you both 
doing here so late at night?"  His rakish grin was practiced and smooth, 
working synergistically with the windswept angles of his long, non-
regulation hair.  "Has another man come between us?"

      He sat between the two of them, placing his arms around their 
shoulders as if they belonged there.  An interesting sight, with Misato 
on the right, tallest of the three of them (even taller in her heels), 
Kaji in the middle, somewhat shorter than that, and diminutive little Dr. 
Akagi on the left.  If one were to draw a line above their heads, it 
would slant down, a perfectly straight line at an angle.

      He craned his head up towards Misato's neck.

      Misato murmured absently, "I don't like it when you forget to shave 
- your face is all scratchy."  It was abrasive against the soft skin of 
her neck, actually almost painful.  She did not want to be nuzzled just 
then, no not just then in these last moments with the boy.  She stood up 
and walked out of his casual embrace, leaning her head against the 
observation glass.

      She felt slightly feverish and did not pay attention when Kaji's 
hands slipped to the less discreet places on her friend's body in an 
attempt to make her jealous.  Her eyes were once more drawn to the boy in 
the glass cage.

      Ritsuko was flushed, but as was typical for her nature, silent at 
Kaji's attentions.  She knew it was a show for Misato as well.  But it 
still felt good, which was upsetting for the Doctor, consequently making 
her expression ever more prim and serious.  She wished that Misato would 
put a stop to it soon.  She did not like being made to squirm like that; 
it felt demeaning.  She often wondered how Misato could stand his touch.

      Ranma was smiling at Misato, and that eased the headache that had 
been creeping upon her.  She smiled back at him, oddly relieved that he 
could see her despite the illusions placed on his side of the wall.  What 
did he think of her?  What would he think of her if he learned what she 
was like?

      Briefly, Misato wondered if she was being unfaithful to Kaji, then 
dismissed the thought as being ridiculous.  Outside, black rain fell 
against the tiny window, the foul rain of the industrial capital of 
Torumekia.  It often rained like this in Tolas.  The rain burrowed 
through clothing easily, even water-proofed clothing, sticking with a 
rotting sulfur smell that persisted through the rest of the day.  She was 
glad she did not have to walk through that.

      A longing her Misato want to reach through the observation wall to 
Ranma.

      She wanted to be back in that green place when she had found him.  
A place close to her heart's dreams, where there was no black rain or 
miasma.

      His lips formed a word.  

      "Patience," she read on them.

      "Let's get drinks and food," Misato said as she turned back to 
them.  "At the Hydrangea, if it's still open.  And if you can still get 
your hand out of her blouse, good sir."

      His brow was arched in curiosity.  "So pleasant today, Misato?"

      She smiled lopsidedly.

      "It's always a good day when I embarrass you in front of your 
troops, Captain Kaji."

      "You did not - "

      "Such swordplay, Ritsuko.  You had to see it.  Such footwork.  
Maneuvering his feet right out from under himself.  And into a muddy 
hole.  Quite a deep puddle, wasn't it, Kaji dearest?  All that slig shit, 
too.  A shame about those fancy new fencing boots of yours."

      Misato had a viper's smile when she wished, and Kaji winced, 
wondering once more if the rumors that Misato was descended from the 
Royal House of Torumekia had some truth to them.

      He walked up to her and slid an arm about her narrow waist, draping 
his hand onto her right hip.

      "Whatever it takes to bring you happiness, princess," he managed a 
smile as well.  She hated being called that, she had for years since 
their days together at the Academy of War.  It usually drew a delightful 
pout from her rapidly reddening face.

      "Tonight, Kaji," she proceeded to cause him to yelp by pinching his 
ass rather powerfully, "I feel like a princess."

      Chuckling at the cross look he leveled at her, Misato smoothed the 
cloth over the previously abused muscle and patted it in a familiar, if 
not overly friendly fashion.

      The corner of Ritsuko's cheek dimpled.  She strode to the other 
side of Misato, and quietly entwined her arm with her own as she spoke 
softly into the shorter woman's ear.  It was a rare, rare gesture of 
affection for her.  

      Her eyes flickered over to where Ranma sat in the darkness as she 
said, "I like the effect of your new man on you."

      She squeezed Misato's hand gently before walking out of the room.

      "Sorry, Kaji, but Misato is all yours.  I've got reports to fill 
out.  But Misato?  Try to put him out of your mind.  It'll haunt you if 
you don't."

      The door slid closed with a faint whirring, but Misato was still 
looking at Ranma when she felt Kaji's hands slide along the soft curves 
of her belly.

      "Not here, okay?" she said, removing his hands from her.  "Not 
now."

      "Not up to giving the boy an education?"  He smirked once more.  
"If not now, then you must mean later, yes?"

      "As you say, Kaji.  Later."

      When she was sure that Kaji was looking away, Misato briefly 
pressed her lips to the cool glass of the observation wall, and sighed 
when she saw the boy smile even more brightly than before.

      "I'll get you out of there and into the outdoors someday, Ranma," 
she whispered.

---

      "Misato?"

      She blinked, slowly.  "Yes?"

      "Your mind's been elsewhere this whole meeting," Kaji said, still 
scruffy-looking and handsome after all these years.

      General Katsuragi sighed, the faint smile on her lips fading.  "I 
was just thinking about the old days.  When I just lead a small division 
of specialized troops.  And before I knew what the Nexus series was truly 
for."

      He chuckled softly.  "Yes, things were simpler then, eh?  Before I 
was a spy."  

      A faint beep came from the implant in his ear, and with an 
apologetic expression on his face for her, Kaji closed his eyes, 
concentrating on the information being transmitted to him.  His lined 
face stiffened, eyes dark and serious.  "General, the Nazis are on the 
move."

      "So they finally decided to strike.  Where, Kaji?"

      "They're making for the Valley of the Wind in stealth-equipped 
transports.  They are to kill the Gifted Ones there.  It matters not - 
the courier sent word that the Keys have already left."

      "And yet again one of your spies comes through.  The Valley... 
Perhaps the Dragon Army can - "

      "No, General.  There is no God-Soldier with that attack group.  
Best not reveal our hand yet."

      "What if they capture the two Gifted Ones?"

      "I will make sure that does not happen.  You must stay here - 
intelligence reports that they will soon strike for Tolas as well, to 
assassinate the Princess Regent.  You must be ready to respond to that.  
In the end, the Valley is just a small village in the middle of nowhere.  
If Tolas were to fall..."

      She shook her head.  "Same old Kaji.  The casualties still don't 
touch you. It's a shame that you're right about this."

      "Misato, I'll send you a briefing later, but right now I have to 
prepare a mission of my own."

      Misato got to her feet quickly.  "A mission of your own?"  They 
both knew that he had not personally been in the field in years.

      "One of my field operatives has been... captured.  I must take care 
of it."  He tapped his pipe against the ashtray on the heavy, granite 
table.  "I have to go."  And he was gone.

      For appearance's sake, she buckled her old, black sword on, the red 
cross on the scabbard on the outside shiny and so very visible.  She 
tapped the communicator on the desk, and said, "Maya?  I want Alaine, 
Cuthbert and Roland in my office, right now.  Have Ritsuko finish the 
activation sequence for Gehenna and have Cort put Blaine on standby."

---

      They had been flying then for about six hours.  It was her turn at 
the wheel, but Shinji stayed awake to watch her.  She had taken the 
situation quite well, he thought.  But he knew she was not happy.  The 
only sound for the hours had been the dull rumbling of the gunship's 
engines.

      "Why the long face?  You miss Ryoga already?" he said as he leaned 
back in his chair, stretching.  "Thinking about that goodbye kiss?"  The 
long, black leather coat he wore creaked with the motion, as did his 
shiny black gloves.

      Akane looked at him blankly, a little confused before she started 
chuckling.

      "Shinji, that was a pretty pathetic try at cheering me up."

      "Nnh.  Well, he went off with you for a long time.  I thought he'd 
finally scraped up the courage."

      Checking the instrumentation in front of her, Akane tilted the 
controls a few degrees to the right.  She said, "Where do you get these 
ideas of yours, Shinji-san?  We just talked a little.  Say, you aren't 
jealous, are you?"

      He twisted his lips in what (for him) passed as a knowing smile.  
"Can't change the subject that easily, Princess.  It's easy to tell that 
you've been thinking of someone back home for the past several hours, 
otherwise you would not have needed to make that course correction just 
now.  There's someone there you like, and it's probably your good 
childhood friend, Ryoga, right?"

      If she was rattled, there was nothing to show it in the way she 
laughed.  "You are so unobservant sometimes, you know that?"  And his 
voice still had that shy, hesitant, stumbling quality about it.

      "Then who?  You just implied that there is someone, even if I did 
not guess correctly."

      She winced, eyes still on the instruments, but her cheeks reddening 
a little.

      "Why should I tell you?"

      "Nnh, well."  He cleared his throat.  "Because I am your personal 
guard, of course," he paused, "and as your guard, I should know of any 
possible dangers to you!"

      Akane giggled.  "Goodness!  You are jealous!  Who'd ever thought it 
could be?"

      "I am not!  I just - I'm just supposed to look out for you, you 
little brat!"

      She just smiled at him, dimples catching the glow from the 
instruments just so.  "Uh, huh.  Don't worry, Shinji-kun, I won't tell 
anyone a thing about it - though heaven knows how inappropriate it is!"

      "H-hey!"

      She laughed delightedly at his scandalized expression, at the way 
his eyebrows were violently twitching in synchronicity.  "By God, Shinji, 
I never thought you'd be this much fun to tease!"

      He clamped his mouth shut and simmered, looking out the window at 
the stars.

      It had helped, though, and Akane wished she could thank him without 
giving anything away.  She had been thinking about a farewell earlier 
that day, for far too long.  And she admitted to herself that it had 
indeed interfered with the way she handled the controls.

      They had, for the first time in years, been alone in the Temple.

      "Tell me that there's a way for me to stay here, or for you to 
come," she had said, lower lip a-tremble.  "Tell me.  I - I still need 
you, Lord Tofu.  To watch out for me and teach me..."

      His smile was faintly regretful.  "Ah, Princess, you know that's 
impossible.  Someone needs to stay to watch over the Valley.  And you do 
have someone to look after you; Shinji is a fine man and - "

      "But that's not what I mean!"  She had wiped her eyes, annoyed at 
the ill-timed trickle of tears.  "That's not what I meant at all!"  Akane 
had not been able to look at him straight after that.  "You know?"

      "Ah.  I, well."  His voice was just a little more gravelly than 
normal.  "I do know, Princess.  But you must go.  I know the one who will 
teach you - she was once one of my finest students.  She will teach you 
well."

      "There's nothing anyone could teach that I can't learn from you, 
Lord Tofu!  About sword- or book-learning or about the Sea of Corruption.  
I well. I don't want to go!"  She bit her lip, tried to stop her 
sniffling, "I thought I would, but not like this, not now.  I want to 
stay... to learn from you."

      Slowly, he stroked the bristly down of hair on his chin, "It does 
my old heart good to hear you say that, little Princess.  But Shinji's 
told me about the dreams you both have had.  You know you must go."

      At some point she had dropped next to his wheelchair and embraced 
him, pressed her face into his chest, and softly, softly he ran those 
rough, thick fingers through her hair.

      "Goodbye, little miss.  Remember what I've taught you."

      Shinji's black-gloved hand closed on her shoulder, jarring her back 
to the where they were, alone in the cab of a four-engine heavy 
transport/gunship, towing an air-barge behind them on a hundred-fifty 
foot line of coiled wolf-spider silk.  "Akane, do you see what I do?  Out 
past the port wingtip?  And on the instruments?"

      And she did.  There was a dark shape, another far smaller gunship, 
outlined by the moon... a ship that did not show up on their instruments. 

      Suddenly, it was in attack range, and their ship shuddered as the 
enemy's guns punched into their armor.

      On the distant horizon behind them, fires lit the sky over the 
Valley.

---

      "I, I do like him.  More than that..."

      The brown-haired girl had such wide eyes, he thought.  Dark brown 
cat's eyes that scrunched up into such narrow lines when she laughed or 
smiled.  When had she grown so pretty?  But she was not laughing or 
smiling now.

      "Uncle Kaji...  Can you really get him out?"  Her eyes, he had 
noticed, were quite reddish - had she been crying all night?

      As he patted her head gently, he gave her the same smile he gave to 
all those under any command he ever had; a smile that radiated confidence 
and strength.  "I will try, Hitomi.  This Ranma of yours is one of our 
finest agents.  We don't abandon our own... not even if they're deep in 
enemy territory."

      "Can't I go with you?"

      "You know you're not trained for this kind of mission, Hitomi.  I'm 
going with my best team... try not to worry, please?"

      Yet he could not shake the feeling that this was karma, this 
mission.

---

      Akane was screaming.  She pulled back violently on the controls, 
trying to turn the gunship.

      "Damn it, Akane, no!"

      "But they're attacking the Valley!"

      A small speaker screeched to life as Shinji hurriedly adjusted some 
dials to clear the static.  A familiar old voice came through on the 
transmission:

      " - was warned about this... but I did not listen, I guess I let 
myself believe a little too much in the peace that I built... forgive me, 
Princess..."

      "Akane, let me take the controls!  You know I'm a better pilot!"

      She was weeping, and again, the thunder struck, a hundred hammering 
sounds as enemy guns raked into their ship once more.  She was limp in 
her seat, her strength gone, gone, gone.

      "Princess, I hope you receive this transmission; I don't have much 
time.  I have to take the handful of Melefs we have and try to organize a 
defense - "  It faded in and out, was difficult to understand.

      None too gently, Shinji lifted her by her shoulders right out of 
the pilot's chair and deposited her roughly into the seat he had occupied 
moments before.  He could smell smoke coming from the back of the ship, 
and cursed as he hit the switch that would disengage the cable that 
pulled the heavy transport barge behind them.  As it glided away, he 
briefly memorized its course and hoped that they could find it again 
later - it contained their Melefs and supplies.

      "Buckle yourself in, Princess!  Come on, keep an eye out, help me 
find out where he is!"  The engines roared as he pushed forward the 
throttles to the limit of their tolerance.  He snarled, eyes darting 
about the viewports, "Come on, you bastard, show me where you are!"

      Akane was weeping.

      The radio came through once more.  " - must not turn around for the 
Valley.  Promise me that you will go to Tolas and inform the Princess 
Regent that the Peace is over.  Promise me that you will live, Akane.  
Shinji, remember your promise to me.  I will try to save whom I can - "

      Another burst of shells slammed into them, this time across the 
cockpit, and sparks flared across the instruments as the radio was 
destroyed.  Somehow, none of the shells struck them directly, though 
Shinji would later notice a wound that would give him a new scar across 
his right cheek.

      Shinji cried out as he noticed the pattern of the distant flashes.  
"That's where you are!  I've got you - Akane, hold on tight!  He's behind 
the clouds!"

      "Oh, oh God of the Wind!" she sobbed, "Shinji, I can feel it!  I 
can feel it each time one of them dies!"

      His eyes widened, "The Gift!  Oh why now!"  

      He could feel it, too.  But he had felt this once before, he knew 
how to block it out.  

      One hand firmly around the bone grip of the control stick, he 
pressed his fingers into the secret places along Akane's neck, and her 
eyelids grew heavier, heavier, closed.  "Sleep now, Princess."  He 
strapped her in as well as he could with one hand.  

      Even unconscious, she moaned.

      Then as the sound of the enemy guns began approaching again, he 
twisted the controls just so, and powered down one engine as he pushed 
the other seven further.  And the Valley's armored gunship tilted 
ponderously as the wings creaked with strain and he heard an explosion as 
one of the strained engines of the big ship (too large for maneuvers like 
this) finally gave.  But that did not matter now.  He had stretched out 
the Gift as far as he could, and he could see the way the wind moved 
along the smooth ceramic skin of the ship, how the currents cut along 
under and over the wings, and he prayed as he pulled even harder on the 
controls.  With the Power stretched out like this, he was one with the 
ship, with the air the ship moved through. 

      He whispered, "I am a bird - I am the air itself..."

      The ship tilted, tilted further - until Akane was hanging limply 
from the chair by the straps - and flipped completely over as Shinji 
forced a complex, spiral roll out of the ungainly ship.

      Then the small, much more maneuverable attack fighter streaked by, 
right in front of the bigger ship's siege guns.  He could see the 
astonished expression in the other pilot's eyes, looking at them.  The 
enemy looked so young...

      Shinji snarled once more, "Goodbye, coward!"  He slapped the series 
of red switches just over the radio.  The big artillery barrels under the 
wings discharged, vomiting streaks of flame across the sky.  Those shells 
were designed for use against Melefs - they tore the little assault 
fighter into shreds like so much paper.

      He gasped as the Gift withdrew into him, the tendrils of power 
leaving the ship returning to him.  Then he could see the air currents no 
longer, was suddenly tired and weak and mortal.  Already, the beginning 
of a massive headache was pounding at his temples.  His eyes flickered to 
the few dials that did work, and noted the way the airframe's shuddering 
grew only worse.  The smoke coming from the aft compartments was growing 
thicker.  Burning fuel trailed from the ship's left wing, and perhaps if 
there was someone on the ground to see, he might think he had seen a 
falling star.

      "Have to land this tub!" Shinji muttered as he tried to keep his 
eyes open, tried to focus past the pain in his head.  He ignored the 
blood welling slowly out of his ears and nose - evidence of how far he 
had stretched his Will over the large ship.  

      "Got to... got to stay awake!"  He looked over at Akane's sleeping 
form, the way the straps dug into her, probably bruising her.  "I won't 
fail you, Lord Tofu...  I won't let her die..."

---

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Nikholas F. Toledo Zu @ WWW: The Entertainment Capital of UP Village
 Vector, Switch, Yebah, Rain Man, goo, Pervert, Scruples, Hollie, NomaD, 
 Blitz, Gee, Datzo, Jewel, elf, Radler, Pinball, Mayhem, Chaos, Father, 
 Attar and Llewe @ http://nikholas-f-toledo-zu.webjump.com/fanfics.html 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------