Shield and SPETUM
By Exar
Prolog

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2 or any of its
characters. Albert Stevenson and SPETUM are mine,
but anyone else you meet here will likely be
borrowed from somewhere or other. Odds are, I
don't own them either.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reality rippled around him as he materialized in the
dark alley. He looked around, trying to get his
bearings. Apparently deciding upon his path, he
walked quickly out onto the street. Around him,
most things looked old, worn, and lived in. However,
there were many spots where a section of wall, or
fence, or a telephone pole looked far newer than the
ones around it. Noticing this, he tried not to get
his hopes up, but he quickened his pace.

Turning corner after corner, seeing no one in the
darkness of the night, he arrived at his destination.
There, before him, in Japanese, a sign read: Tendo
School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts- Training Hall
(Challengers please knock at the back door.)

He scrubbed his hands together in glee. It had worked!
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered
PDA. He tapped a few buttons, and an image appeared.
It was the cover of a manga. The title: Ranma �.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Albert Stevenson woke to the braying of the klaxon,
fully awake in a second, a weapon in hand a second
later.

The weapon was discarded a moment later, due to the
fact that it was actually a shoe. Seconds later, he
threw on some blue slacks and a white shirt, put the
shoe and its equally deadly (that is to say, not very)
twin on, picked up his holstered pistol and strapped
that on, and went out into the corridor.

There he was greeted by the sight of about a dozen
faces, some sleepy and blinking, a few as sharply
aware as his own. All were dressed in clothing similar
to his own, and heading in about the same direction.
By now, the klaxon had diminished in volume and
frequency, merely sounding to inform the listener
that the emergency wasn't over yet, but that it
wasn't new, either.

The group, fourteen strong now, reached a large
control center whose dominating feature was an
enormous and somewhat convoluted display screen.
It was a 3D image on a 2D screen. Of a 4D object
defined in 3D terms. This unique screen showed
the multiverse, in its nigh infinite splendor.
It resembled nothing so much as a demented
christmas tree designed by both M. C. Escher and
Salvador Dali. Below it, as if arrayed for
worship, sat sixteen computer stations, clustered
in five groups of three, and one larger command
station near the back.

Albert strode to the command station, pausing
just long enough for it to be vacated.

"What happened?� he snapped.

"Dimensional breech, sir," replied the being that
had left the command station. It looked human,
but it was blue, and you couldn't put a gender to
it.

"Where?� Stevenson said as he tapped the screen of
his terminal, seeking information.

"Universe 2138, core branch. Defined on earth prime
by one Rumiko Takahashi in a comic book titled
Ranma �," answered the blue being.

Stevenson turned toward the being and cradled his
forehead as he hung his head.

"Another otaku, Bensen?� asked Stevenson in a
depressed tone of voice.

"It seems likely, sir," Bensen replied, an
understanding look upon his face.

Stevenson turned back to his console, and said, "We
have anything on his home dimension?"

Bensen leaned over and tapped a few spots on the
screen. "Universe 47893, a minor branch from earth
prime. Defined by a television show titled Law &
Order."

"Means of transfer?"

Another tap on the screen. "Magical."

"Good enough. Transfer his photo to my wristcomp,
and I'll go in."

Speakers hidden somewhere in the room activated
with a barely audible crackle and a quiet voice
emerged. "Try to take him alive, Albert."

Stevenson looked up at where he knew the
surveillance camera to be and said, "I always
do, sir."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How about another grape, Nabiki?� he said as he
lounged on the couch, enjoying life to the
fullest.

"Sure thing, sweet-cheeks," she said, rising from
where she'd been draped over him to saunter
across the room and return with a bowl full of
grapes and fruit. She was just kneeling down to
feed him a grape when the air in the middle of
the room rippled like water hit with a pebble,
and a man in combat gear stepped out of nowhere.
He leveled a gun of some kind at them, and looked
around, checking for threats.

'Okay. Safe transfer. Target is present, with one
girl. Why is it always Nabiki, anyway? Nevermind.
No immediate danger here.'

The man stepped forward and motioned for Nabiki
to back away.

"Alright, Colin. This can go two ways. Easy, or
Hard. Easy, you come quietly, and we erase what
you've done here. Then you get to live out your
life on some dimension that needs your help. Or
you can go the hard way. Try to resist, and I just
kill you before you came to this dimension. What's
it gonna be?"

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"I'm Corporal Stevenson, of SPETUM. I'm here to
stop your meddling with this dimension's reality."

Colin stood, shaking with fear, but calming visibly
as he stretched his hands forward.

Stevenson flipped a switch on the side of his
weapon and said; "Don't even try to hit me with a
chi blast, boy."

Colin smiled now, and shouted, "Fine! Here's a
KI blast!"

A bright white ball of energy formed between his
hands and shot towards the man. Stevenson pulled
the trigger and a vortex formed at the muzzle of
the gun, sucking the ball in and trapping it
harmlessly.

Stevenson flipped the switch back to its original
position. "Bad decision, kid." He reached over
and tapped a button on his wrist. He faded from
view. In a moment, so did Colin and the couch.

Nabiki briefly wondered why she was carrying a
bowl of fruit around. She didn't worry about it
for long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An ancient man sat behind a large desk, dressed
in flowing white robes and clutching a strange
staff in his gnarled hand. On the other side of
the desk sits Albert Stevenson, still in his
combat fatigues, but divested of his weaponry.

"Well done, Albert. You didn't get him alive, but
we don't really need any more super-powered martial
artists, anyway."

Stevenson grimaced and shook his head.

"True, but you never know what he might have gained
on the way out."

The old man nodded gently, a smile creasing his aged
face.

"Also true. Regardless, you have preserved the
fragile reality of that dimension once again. That
is what matters. Now why don't you go get some
sleep? SPETUM can continue without you for a time."

Stevenson stood and saluted.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Mizuhara."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

End Prologue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No, Colin isn't supposed to be any specific author
out there. This idea simply came to me as I was
reading Carrotglace's Essay on Self-Insertions.
I have a lot of ideas for this setting, and have
figured out a lot about the way the multiverse
works. If you would like to see more, let me know
by email or review.

Oh, and SPETUM stands for the Society for the
Preservation of the Temporal Multiverse. Not a
perfect acronym, but a workable one.


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