Second part of the chapter 1.

Again Ranma belongs to Miss Takahashi, Purple Snakes and Yellow Rats belong 
to Nintendo, Shantyworld, Doozy Sack, Peace Robots, Governors etc. belong to 
Me.

The rumbling of the ships did not stop. Ranma wondered if the presence of 
the fleets, was the reason the Peace Robots had not yet responded to the 
tragedy. Anyway the old man was dead, and nothing was going to change that. 
Ranma checked for vital signs, and when he found none, shook his head sadly. 
The Peace Robots would arrive soon enough, he thought; whether they would do 
anything to find the killer was more in doubt. He wasn't sure if Peace 
Robots cared about the death of an old man in the Rimsides. For all Ranma 
knew they would merely summon a sanitation unit to clean up the mess.  Ranma 
had to confess he was mostly ignorant regarding the ways of Peace Robots.

Though he had had spent the first six years of his life here on Doozy Sack, 
Ranma had only returned two years ago. The intervening years had been spent 
traveling the galaxy with his father as a "student warrior." In common lingo 
that meant "Mercenary." Despite his experiences, he resisted the cheapness 
of life here. Oh, he could understand it of course. First generation people, 
that is to say, the first generation to leave Earth and the last to arrive 
in civilized space, due to the limitations of their technology, had had to 
accept treated like third class citizens. That didn't mean they liked it.

Despite the risk of involving himself in a confrontation when the Peace 
Robots arrived to break it up, Ranma would have been tempted to help the old 
man if he had arrived on time. He just wasn't sure if it would have done any 
good. Oh sure he could have beaten a group of unarmed thugs, he had the 
training. But the concept of an unarmed thug in the Rimsides was about as 
likely as finding the streets of Doozy Sack covered with gold.

He wondered what the thugs had stolen. The old man must have had something 
in order to attract their attention. They had stolen his shirt and probably 
a coat considering the weather. Funny they had missed his boots.

He closed the dead man's eyes and looked around one last time to make sure 
the Peace Robots were still missing. Then he frantically began undoing the 
bootlaces. They were double knotted, but he couldn't afford to cut them. 
Boots with laces would go for more money on the market. It took him almost 
two minutes to get them undone. He yanked them off the old man's feet, and 
then got up and ran as if the Devil himself was after him. Far away he could 
hear the hum of something far worse.

"Martial arts hustling" Ranma muttered to himself, as he counted his money, 
"that's what it is Martial arts hustling. If there's martial arts involved, 
I can do anything, therefore it's okay."  He'd repeated this mantra to 
himself for the next hour. But it stuck in his craw that he had to do it. He 
had to survive no matter what it took.  But it's wrong, a voice inside him 
said. It lacks honor.  Another voice reminded him that on Doozy Sack there 
was a word for honorable man: corpse.

The day became a dance from one contact to another.  It took no time at all 
to find someone willing to buy the old man's boots.  It took longer to find 
someone who would to take them for twice the first man's price.

>From there he went to a candy store owned by a lollygagger named Shufflin' 
Joe. Shuflin' Joe's specialty was a small, hard lollygagger candy known for 
it's "excellent taste that virtually melts in your mouth."  At least 
according to the lollygaggers.  Ranma invested the money he had gotten from 
the boots on a bag of the stuff. Then he ground the candies into a powder 
and threw the wrappers away.  He was able to sell the powder for several 
times the price he had paid.

Ranma was always amazed, considering the size of Doozy Sack's underworld, 
that no one except him had figured out that particular trick.  He himself 
had discovered it when, as a child, he had actually tried lollygagger candy. 
  He had had nightmares for an entire week.  He was sure it was only a 
matter of time before someone else realized that lollygagger candy had 
psychotropic qualities that made LSD look like table salt. At the moment, he 
had the corner of a very small market.

Ranma's next stop was at a beast arena. It was a gruesome sport, pitting 
animals of different species against each other to tear themselves apart for 
people's entertainment. There were times that the sports popularity 
disturbed him but the stakes were high and worth the risk of gambling on it. 
  Most people this time bet on a rather ferocious looking purple snake. 
Ranma had inside information. He bet on a yellow rat with the crooked tail.

Ranma won so much he felt like celebrating so treated the rat's owner to a 
meal.

"It was a good match," he told the owner, who couldn't be older then 
fourteen. "You should be proud of yourself."

The owner beamed, putting his hand behind his head in embarrassment. "Golly, 
thanks, Mr. Ranma, sir! That means a lot to me! But this is just the 
beginning. I want to be the greatest trainer in the arena there is!"

Ranma laughed and slapped the boy on the shoulder. "Heck, Kid, someday 
you'll be a master."

Ranma counted his earnings for the day. 1000 credits, was not bad for a 
day's work, he had to admit. It was enough to cover expenses for a month, 
provided his old man didn't get his hands on it. Only Ranma had other plans. 
It was also just enough to turn the scheme he and Uchan had been working out 
in their heads, into a reality.

After the ports, the Lazy Fair was one of the oldest permanent structures on 
Doozy Sack.  Named by a, thankfully, long dead wit, the Lazy Fair was a huge 
public market. It's north end was entrenched tentatively in the Rimsides 
where it worked its way south through the Gentryways until it stopped a few 
kilometers short of the Mainport. One could buy anything at the Lazy Fair, 
absolutely anything.

Ukyou Kounji kept her "shop", Ucchan's Okonomiyaki, at the westside of the 
Lazy Fair right before the Rimsides met the Gentryway. She made her living 
cooking Okonomiyaki and dealing occasionally in contraband. Due to her 
proximity to Heaven's Way Freeport, she did fairly well for herself. "Shop" 
was probably not an accurate term. Ucchan's Okonomiyaki (more commonly 
called the "The Ucchan") was actually a centuries old catering van.  After 
Okonomiyaki, Ukyou's passion was spending hours tinkering on the old thing. 
Considering the number of spare parts that Ukyou had put into it, she had 
probably replaced her pride and joy a dozen times over. After years of work 
on it the Ucchan had become a heavily armored, all terrain vehicle with many 
hidden "accessories". It was, very likely, the fastest thing, on six wheels, 
in the Rimsides.

It was getting on towards evening and business was beginning to slow down 
for Ukyou. At the moment the only customer she had was a Lollygagger. The 
slug like creature gurgled out something that sounded slightly 
interrogative.

Ukyou tapped her earpeace to make sure the used translation unit, she had 
spent five hundred credits on, which the dealer claimed had fifty languages 
on file, was working correctly.

"Well it's sort of a pancake but much, much, better 'cause you get all of 
the toppings that you want on it."  She said cheerfully.

The Lollygagger burped inquisitively.

Ukyou gritted her teeth as she listened to the translation. "It's nothing 
like pizza!" She shouted. "A pizza is something that you throw together and 
toss in the oven. Okonomiyaki is a work of art!"

The Lollygagger retracted all four of its eyestalks in a pose of deference 
and apology. It made a long sloshing sound.

Ukyou shrugged. "No. No reason to apologize. It's just if I had a subcred 
for every time."

The Lollygagger chirruped in understanding. It went over the menu, with all 
four of its eyestalks, and chortled a request.

Ukyou shrugged. "Yeah. I can make that." She poured the batter on the grill 
and spread the utterly toxic sauce, which Lollygaggers appeared to like, on 
top of it. "One Tapeworm and Maggot Okonomiyaki coming up." She said, 
feigning excitement with the skill of a professional actress.

Ukyou watched a very contented Lollygagger shuffle away. "If that becomes my 
most popular entree, I quit." She muttered to herself.

She was just about to close up shop. When Ranma finally showed up. 
"Ranchan!" She shouted hey Sugar, what took you so long I was beginning to 
worry." She started making his favorite, a gaff okonomiyaki for him.  It 
felt great to have the opportunity to cook something edible. They had been 
friends for as long as she could remember first as children before Ranma's 
father had dragged him off on the training mission, and years later when he 
had returned to the Rimsides. Their reunion had not been pretty. Ukyou had 
felt abandoned when Ranma had left her and for years she had hated him. It 
was even worse in some respects. When they were children Ranma had been two 
years older, Ukyou had idolized him as the older brother she had never had. 
When Ranma returned to the Rimsides, they were chronologically the same age. 
Ukyou had resented this terribly. Now, both of them agreed to live for the 
moment and not talk about the past. They still referred to each other by 
their childhood nicknames, Ranchan and Ucchan, just the same.

Ranma smiled. "Sorry, Ucchan, couldn't be helped maybe when you see what 
I've been up to you'll forgive me." With a flourish, he produced ten 
hundred-credit marks, and dropped them on the Ucchan's counter.

Ukyou's jaw dropped. "Ranma!" She whispered, looking around frantically, 
"Where in the void did you get all that?"

Ranma touched her lip and made a shushing noise. "Now, now, Ucchan, best you 
don't know. Ignorance is bliss, especially when it involves long, sharp, 
metal probes."

Ukyou rolled her eyes skyward. "Ranchan, you jackass. The Governors don't 
use metal probes."

"How do you know?" Ranma asked. "Have you ever seen them use anything else? 
In fact I bet you don't even know what a Governor look like."

"Don't be stupid Ranchan. Everyone knows that the Governors are giant, 
hideous fungi with squid-like heads and leather wings that drive you mad 
just by getting close to you. They sleep on their homeworld and control the 
Peace Robots through their dreams."

"Heh, once I ran into some crazy, little, green man who claimed the 
Governors were luminous beings, not crude matter."

"One time I heard that they were, like, these black stone monoliths that 
taught sentient life how to do useful stuff like how to kill things with 
sticks!"  Ukyou was grinning broadly, now.

"Hey for all we know, I could be a Governor in disguise!" Ranma said 
laughing.

Ukyou stopped laughing and glared at Ranma. "Don't even joke about it, 
Ranma."

Ranma put his hand behind his neck and grinned sheepishly. "Aw gee, Ucchan, 
I didn't mean nothing by that. I just thought . . . ."

Ukyou muttered something about first generation inbreeding under her breath, 
and shook her head. "Come on," she said, gesturing towards the passenger 
seat, "I'll close up and drive you home."

It really didn't take much to close the Ucchan. The turn of a crank made the 
seats and counter fold out of sight into the van's side. In ten minutes they 
were driving through the alleyways towards Ranma's house.

They'd been planning the sting on and off for several months. It had started 
out as an intellectual exercise but gradually with careful thought and 
financing it was becoming there way out of poverty and out of the Rimsides, 
the first step to getting out of Doozy Sack. "So this is it Ucchan," Ranma 
said very excited. "This is the break we've been looking for with this 
amount is just what we need for the collateral of the plan we can't loose."

Ukyou smiled. "We have to do this right, Ranchan," she said slowly. "If we 
screw this up we don't get a second chance."

"Yeah, yeah, I know don't worry about it. You and me together what can go 
wrong?"

Ukyou let that one slide. "I need time to set things up with my contacts 
Ranma," she said quietly, "meet me at the usual place at the fifteenth hour, 
tomorrow, do you understand the fifteenth hour."

"Don't worry 'bout it Ucchan. We've got it all covered. Friends like us who 
can beat us?"

Ukyou was quiet for a moment as she pulled up in Ranma's neighborhood. 
Friends. That's all she was to him, a friend. "Ranchan you may be first 
generation trash," she said quietly, "but you're my first generation trash."

Ranma watched as the Ucchan drove away. He sighed to himself and walked up 
the alley. The building that Ranma shared with his father stood at the back 
of a narrow cul-de-sac that few vehicles could enter. The first floor had 
been destroyed years ago, and only the support columns remaining. The 
apartment above was reachable only by rope ladder.  It made the perfect 
hideaway for them: out of the way so nobody would stumble over it and 
virtually inaccessible if the wrong sort of person was after them. When the 
rope ladder was pulled up only a Peace Robot could follow them up here. And, 
in the two years they had been there, neither Ranma nor his father had done 
anything that would attract their attention.

A light in the window indicated his old man was home. A perfect end to a 
perfect day, he muttered to himself.

Ranma smiled as he climbed up. He knew that the future was in good hands. He 
and Ukyou had been planning this operation down to the minute for months 
now. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Just the same he was glad he left the 
money with Ukyou as he entered his dwelling.

Genma Saotome looked up as Ranma entered the dingy apartment. Ranma's father 
was a large man and very sturdy. He was beginning to develop a bit of a 
paunch, but despite that kept the strong body of his youth. He wore a ragged 
white tunic and covered his bald head with a dirty white bandana. He stared 
at Ranma through large glasses that were probably older then he was.  Like 
most members of the first generation on Doozy Sack, he was reluctant to 
invest in augmentations. Even for proper vision.

"Ranma, m'boy, you're home!" He shouted out.

Ranma stared at his father, surprised by his good humor.  Then he noticed 
the bottle on the table. Happiness in a glass, he thought to himself. "Yeah, 
Pop I'm back. Is there a problem with that?  I don't remember you setting a 
curfew."

"I worried about you, Boy," Genma  said sounding very concerned. "You missed 
training this morning. If this keeps up, you'll get soft. Like a girl."

"I got up early to watch the fleets land!" Ranma shouted, not mentioning 
that his father had slept through the whole thing. "Everyone did. I think 
the whole neighborhood was standing on their roofs trying to get to see 
everything."

Genma laughed. "Fleets come and go, boy, and this one will be coming for the 
next month at least. You should get used to it. If it surprises you, your 
enemies will have an edge. And that's all they need to defeat you."

"What does being impressed by an imperial armada have to do with being weak 
in front of your enemies!?" Ranma demanded.

"Never mind that. We'll get you back on track tomorrow. I'm glad you're 
home. I thought you'd be interested to know that it's been exactly two years 
since we've returned to our home planet." Genma grabbed the wine bottle, and 
some mugs off of the table. "It seemed to me like a good time to celebrate."

Ranma looked at his father suspiciously. "Who'd want to celebrate living 
here two years?" He demanded. "It just means we've been damned for a little 
less time then everyone else."

"Nevertheless, that's no reason to let wine go to waste, and we really need 
an excuse to drink?" Genma said merrily filling up the mugs. He handed one 
to Ranma. "After all, Son, eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die."

Ranma watched his father as he sipped his wine. "This stuff is really 
awful." He muttered. He had to admit it felt good, very relaxing. Too 
relaxing to be alcohol. "Damn you," he whispered before he slumped to the 
floor unconscious.

Genma Saotome looked down at his sleeping son and shook his head sadly. 
"It's for your own good, boy," he whispered. "If it makes any difference to 
you, I promise this is the last time."

					* * * * * *

Ranma woke slowly to discover he was in a dark chamber, immersed in a clear 
liquid. He desperately thrashed about trying to get out before he drowned.  
Slowly, he realized he was breathing the liquid and he was not drowning. 
Gradually, he calmed down. As his eyes adjusted he saw that a  light shone 
into the chamber through a small window just a little larger then his face. 
Looking through it, he could see that the room seemed empty, though he was 
sure he could hear voices. Screaming frantically and hammering against his 
confines he tried to get their attention. "Please! What's going on? Get me 
out of here!" he shouted.

One of the voices asked if everything was in order to begin the experiment.

Another voice concurred and began to explain just what the procedure would 
be and how they would perform it.

"No. This has got to be a joke! Please say this is a joke!" Ranma begged.

A third voice stated that as interesting as this all sounded it could not 
understand the point. After all, didn't they have all of the data they could 
possibly need on human physiology? In fact, didn't the humans provide most 
of the information they needed on a completely voluntary basis?

The second voice explained that there were several vague areas that had to 
be cleared up.

The third voice stated it felt that the experiment was identical to Project 
Shimeru.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Ranma asked despairingly.

The first voice explained that Shimeru transformations were inherently 
unstable. It explained that Project Jusenkyo would demonstrate the genetic 
malleability  of human physiology while using a more stable catalyst.

The third voice wondered what would happen when the splinter personality was 
discovered. There was no response to this question.

The second voice ordered the experiment to begin.

"No, please! Don't. Please! No. Don't!"

The last thing Ranma would remember were thousands of needles, extreme pain, 
and crying for his mother.

	* * * * * *

She was awoken by the jab of a metal needle thrusting into her arm sleep 
escaping her.  "Hello. Are you awake?" A voice asked.  The girl opened her 
eyes and blinked as things gradually came back into focus.

She was lying in a most comfortable bed the sensation was so alien she knew 
it couldn't be her own. A cold towel lay on her forehead. Two women were 
standing over her. Both were dressed in expensive fashions, not in the sheer 
opulence of a mayor or other higher up, but with the decorum and taste that 
suggested the lower upper class. The one who had spoken was the taller of 
the two. She wore her long brown hair in a very sensible ponytail and smiled 
like an angel. The shorter woman wore her hair short in a fashion that 
almost made it look as if she was wearing some sort of helmet. She kept her 
arms folded and stared, studying her not missing the smallest detail. 
Nervously the girl nodded.

The tall woman looked relieved. "That's good." She said warmly. " My name is 
Kasumi Tendou and this is my sister Nabiki," she nodded to the shorter 
woman. "I am the mistress of this house, do you understand?" The girl 
hesitated for a second and nodded again. Kasumi smiled. "Good. I am very 
fair so if there are any problems please let me know." She paused. "Are you 
feeling all right?" The girl shook her head.

Kasumi sighed. "The way dealers drug their products these days is 
inexcusable." She said. "I'd sooner see people in chains then . . . No, 
forgive me, I didn't mean that. Still I have half a mind to report them to 
the chamber of commerce. Do you remember the last few hours?" she asked 
suddenly. The girl shook her head. "I see. Do you remember about the rest of 
your life? Family? Friends? Pets?" The girl shook her  head

Kasumi frowned. "Oh dear." She whispered. "I'm afraid you're still very 
disoriented with any luck this will pass. Do you remember being in the 
auction? The girl shook head again feeling very nervous. Why couldn't she 
remember anything?

"Sis, she's stressing out." The other woman, Nabiki said. She looked at the 
girl critically. "The auctioneer said that you were a martial artist. Is 
this true?" The girl smiled broadly remembering complex katas and punch 
combinations. She could remember something! She nodded enthusiastically.

Kasumi smiled. "Good," she said. "Let me tell you why you were purchased. 
Our younger sister, Akane, came of age this week. This means she is able to 
leave the house on her own reconnaissance whenever she wishes. You will be 
her personal servant. You will be her best friend who will listen to and 
understand her. You will be there when she needs someone. But just as 
importantly you will protect her with your life. Is that clear?"

The girl nodded. It was too clear. "Good," said Kasumi. "Now get some sleep. 
You can meet your mistress when you feel better."

Kasumi watched as girl fell asleep. Smiling, she adjusted her blanket, and 
turned to Nabiki. 'All right little sister, out with it. You have something 
to say. I can always tell."

"I still don't understand Sis. Why couldn't we just reassign one of the 
other servants? Buying a new one is too much of a security risk."

Kasumi frowned. "Akane has been going through some hard times lately and I 
felt that she needed someone her own age. Trust me it will work out. Still, 
I'm afraid I believe hope a bit too much. I'm afraid I have to rely on your 
cynicism from time to time. What do you think of her?"

Nabiki shrugged. "Even without the drugs she's hard to read," she said. 
"She's first generation no doubt. Even the rich ones won't get implants. 
Something to do with religious values, I'm told," she sniffed.

"I see," Kasumi said, pensively. "Do you think she was born again?"

Nabiki picked up a piece of fruit from a bowl on the dining room table and 
began to munch on it as she thought. "Really hard to say," she said between 
bites. "Her mind's scrubbed, for sure. But it's a really spotty job. She 
still has a lot of memories in her subconscious. The process is incomplete." 
She took another bite from her fruit as she paused to think. "Funny, it's 
not like the Governors to cut corners like that." She muttered to herself. 
Kasumi said nothing, but looked pensive.

	* * * * * *

Akane smashed her fist through three cinder blocks with a shout. She wiped 
the sweat from her brow and looked down at the rubble that had accumulated 
during her workout. Martial arts had been one of the only outlets available 
to her in her cloistered youth.

She had been practicing extensively in the family Dojo since Lum had left. 
True, she was able to accept Lum's reasons but that did not mean she had to 
like it. It still hurt.

Sighing to herself she sat. A small black piglet, with a tiger striped 
bandanna wrapped around its neck, watched her from the corner of the Dojo. 
It had been Lum's parting gift. Akane smiled and picked it up. "You are a 
cute one I'll admit," she said as she rubbed it's belly. The piglet squealed 
contentedly. Akane rummaged around her things and found the remains of a 
snack that the cook had made for her. She gave it to the piglet who ate it 
immediately. "I think I'll call you P-Chan. Do you like that?" She asked. 
The piglet nodded and continued eating.

"Akane?" Akane and the piglet looked to see Kasumi standing at the Dojo 
entrance. Kasumi walked into the Dojo. Kasumi looked down at the pile of 
rubble Akane had created during her workout. "Are you feeling any better?" 
She asked.

"A little." Akane lied.

Kasumi looked at her little sister in the eye, not buying it for a second. 
"I'm happy to hear that," she said. "I'd like you to meet somebody." Kasumi 
raised her hand in a beckoning manner. A girl, Akane's age, walked into 
view. "She is to serve your every need, and accompany you whenever you leave 
the house." Kasumi said cheerfully. "Nabiki and I took quite a bit of time 
from our busy schedules selecting her, and  I'm confident she's perfect for 
you." Kasumi smiled sweetly ignoring Akane's reaction completely. "Call it 
intuition if you like." She finished.

"Well having said that I have to start making the preparations for 
tomorrow's dinner party. Father has several important dignitaries to talk 
to. And Nabiki doesn't want anything to go wrong during the negotiations. 
I'll just let you two get to know one another." With that, Kasumi turned and 
left.

Akane stooped to put P-Chan down. She stood up to look at her new servant. 
The girl was short, several centimeters shorter then Akane. Despite her 
height, she had a very statuesque figure very well built; Akane was forced 
to admit, better then her. She was dressed in a red tunic and blue trousers. 
She wore her scarlet red hair in a short braided ponytail. She looked at 
Akane, shyly with big blue eyes.

"Well," as you already know, I'm Akane." She said. " So. What is your name? 
Well? Speak up, girl!"

The girl paused for a second before she was able to get the courage to 
speak. "I'm Ranko, Mistress." She said.

Well hope you tollerated it. Again C & C is welcome and appreciated.


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