Hi all,

Here's the latest chapter of Ten.  I've marked it as lime for a scene late 
in the chapter.  It's a fairly mild scene and I debated whether or not to 
give it the lime tag, but decided it was better to err on the side of 
caution.

This is a first draft, and doubtless contains an error or two, for which I 
apologise in advance.  C&C is, as always, welcome.  Previous chapters are 
available at the story's web page, http://ten.waxwolf.com .

Please enjoy.


                                  = = = =
                                   T E N

                            A Ranma  1/2 Fanfic

                                 By  R. E.
                           (ranma_e@hotmail.com)

                           Illustrations by Irka
                            (irka@ciudad.com.ar)
                                  = = = =

                             CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                         "Come Hell or High Water"
                              = = = = = = = =

Link activated the helicopter's external sensors, her fingers gliding
efficiently over the control pad as she quickly brought several systems
online.  The screen flickered to life, showing a blue-tinted representation
of the forest area directly below them.  Between the heavy noise of the
chopper's rotors turning overhead and the concentration required to monitor
the wide array of sensors, it was several moments until she realised Scar
was talking to her.

"Sir?" she asked, without looking up.

"Progress report!" Scar shouted, his voice drowned out by the roar of air
surging through the vehicle.

Baker had opened the door and was leaning out into the morning sun,
sweeping his gun back and forth as he peered down into the forest.  Despite
the wide selection of sensor equipment aboard the chopper he insisted on
searching with his own eyes.  The net effect was a deafening gale that
drowned out all but the loudest of speech.

"Sensors online, Sir.  No sign of activity below."

"Keep searching," Scar instructed.  "She's down there somewhere.  There's a
lot of ground to cover, and we might not have much time to do it.  With
Bravo out looking for Blue's chopper we're all Wing has, so let's get to
it."

"I hope Ukyo's alright," Angel said, peering over Link's shoulder to view
the monitor.  "I hope that monster hasn't hurt her."

"Acknowledged, Sir," Link replied, giving Angel a small nod as she added,
"I'll find her."

Ever since the incident, Angel had been an emotional wreck.  Link supposed
she would have felt the same if she had been in the same situation.  She
was slightly concerned about the attachment Angel seemed to have formed to
Wing since the incident, but tried not to dwell on it too much.  There
would be time to talk to Angel later, after the mission.

* * *

A dozen warnings flared wildly inside Ukyo's skull, each more urgent than
the last.  Blood pressure, oxygen levels, heart rate, each running
dangerously low as Ranma's icy grip upon her throat threatened to squeeze
the very life out of her.  Two piercing blue eyes stared directly into
hers, seeming to see into her as she swam at the very edge of
consciousness.  She tried to move, to struggle, to do anything but look
into those eyes, but her body was held in thrall.

"Where. Is. She?"

Where is who?  What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bitch?  Who?
How can I tell you if I don't know?!

"Who?" she croaked, using all of her strength to force the word through her
compacted windpipe.  All of the outrage she felt, all of the fear and the
anger, summed up in one word.

She felt her body move away from the tree, only to be slammed powerfully
back into it.  She felt a faint awareness of the vibration running through
the tree trunk, but felt no pain in her own body.  It simply hung limply, a
rag doll unable to move of its own accord.

Green leaves, shaken loose by the impact, drifted gently down toward the
earth below.  Those unlucky enough to fall too near to Ranma shriveled and
died, green turning to brown as they curled and crumbled, dissolving into
tiny pieces in midair.

"Akane.  Tell me where you've taken my Akane!"

The air was thick with the stench of death.  She could feel her body
growing cold, a profound numbness that was spreading from her fingers and
toes, creeping ever closer to her heart.  She was losing the fight, she
could feel it.

Who the hell is Akane?

Ranma's grip tightened; Ukyo could feel her veins throbbing weakly against
their vicelike grip, growing weaker with each passing beat.  Her eyelids
grew heavier, and she could feel them closing.  The darkness surrounded
her, sweeping the world away with its deceptively soothing touch.

Something happened then that she did not expect.  The leaves stopped
falling, instead hanging suspended in midair.  The icy chill of Ranma's
breath faded to nothing.  The faint beating of her heart stopped.  All was
motionless.  She tried to move her eyes, to blink, but she was utterly
immobile.

-My Lady, can you hear me?-

-I can hear you.  I don't understand ... am I dead?-

-No, My Lady.  I am communicating with you on a high-frequency channel that
operates at a much higher speed than most normal brain functions.  Using
this method we are able to transmit tens of thousands of messages per
second.-

-I ... I don't ... why has everything stopped?-

-Nothing has stopped, My Lady.  You are merely perceiving the world at a
much faster rate.  That is why you cannot move your eyes.  They are moving;
but they are moving very slowly.-

-So I'm still alive.-

-Yes, My Lady.  I suggest that we take steps to ensure you remain so.
Listen carefully; we do not have much time.-

-I ... I'm listening.  Tell me how to get out of this.-

-My tactical analysis of the situation is complete.  Without the Frame
there is no way for you to overcome Ranma.  At this rate, your brain will
be starved of oxygen in thirty-seven seconds and you will die.  My
analysis suggests only one possible means of survival.-

-Which is what?-

-Reason with her, My Lady.  She is requesting the location of this 'Akane'
person.  Tell her you know where Akane is.  Tell her you will lead her to
Akane.  If she believes you have information that can assist her, she will
cease her attack.-

-But I don't know anything about Akane!  I don't even know who she is.-

-I suggest we cross that bridge when we come to it, My Lady.  It will
almost certainly be further in the future than thirty-seven seconds.  Once
the Frame is repaired, our position will be much stronger.-

As quickly as it had stopped, the world moved again.  The leaves that were
held suspended flitted effortlessly to the ground, skimming along the dried
mud as the wind pushed them.  The pressure around her throat resumed, her
lungs struggled for breath, and at last her heart beat once more.

"Okay ... okay," she managed, choking the words through clenched teeth.
The deathgrip upon her throat loosened, and precious air flooded down her
throat and into her lungs.  She coughed, choking on the sudden abundance
of oxygen, and struggled to speak.  "I'll tell you."

"Where is she?!" Ranma demanded.

"I can ... I can show you where she is."

* * *

Ryoga wiped his forehead, surprised at the humidity of the air.  The hiss
of the door behind him also sealed him off from the cooler, air-conditioned
air he was used to.  A thin sweat began forming on his brow almost
immediately; reaching up, he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his
lab coat.

Hot in here, he thought to himself.  Dark, too.  Perhaps Akane was
sleeping?

The room was, fortunately, not pitch black.  A dull red light strip
overhead hummed quietly as it bathed the room in a faint, ruddy glow that
reminded him of a photographic darkroom.  On the other side of the room he
could see the outline of Akane, laying beneath a thick blanket on the bed.

Her arms rested atop the blanket, a thick leather strap tied over each
wrist.  An intravenous drip hung suspended from a pole next to the bed,
clear liquid running down a tube connected to her left forearm.  He
swallowed, and stepped closer.  Her eyes were half-open but glassy, gazing
dreamily off into space.  Emboldened by her lack of movement he stepped
forward again, and again she did not notice.

Whatever they sedated her with, it seems to be working, he thought.  But
why are her eyes open?

He was supposed to be conducting an initial assessment for Seraph Wing
suitability, as they had with the headless Ukyo, but for the moment he
merely wanted to see what this Akane looked like.  He had always been told
that there were two immortals; the dragon, and the dragon hunter.  Ranma
was the dragon, Ukyo was the dragon hunter.  What did that make Akane?

Coming to the side of her bed, he looked her up and down.  She certainly
looked normal enough; little more than a teenage girl.  But then,
appearances could be deceptive.  Ukyo looked like a normal teenage girl, as
did Ranma, and they were anything but normal.

Even with such thoughts in his mind, it was hard to imagine Akane as
anything but a quiet, peaceful girl, laying dozily upon her bed.  Her head
lolled slightly to one side, her cheek pressing against the abundant hair
that covered her pillow.

"My name is Ryoga," he said.  "I'm here to examine you.  Can you hear me?"

Something unusual caught his eye.  The hair beneath Akane's face was
changing colour.  It was difficult to make out beneath the red light, but
it was definitely changing colour.  A slightly lighter shade of black - he
guessed it was blue, without the red tinge of the light - was silently
running down the strands, oozing along her hair slowly, but surely.

What the hell is that?

He'd almost overlooked it; the crimson lighting had almost hidden it from
his view entirely.  The more he stared, however, the more obvious it
became.  Almost without realising it, he had leaned over her bed to get a
better view.

He jolted upright as he felt Akane's hand surge forward, wrapping itself
around his wrist in a solid grip.  Panicking, he yanked his arm away as
hard as he could, but her hold would not yield.

His wide eyes shot to her face, his panic rising as he saw a tiny smile on
lips that had a moment ago been neutral.  He looked into her eyes, those
deep blue orbs, and let out a gasp.  Within them there was a faint white
glow, purest alabaster, that defied his efforts to look away.  He could
feel those eyes upon him, within him, sucking him in, wrapping their gaze
around him.

"Gotcha!"

* * *

Akane lay face-up in a pool of hot silvery water, a tranquil, rock-bound
pond that held her easily afloat.  The air around the pool was cold, her
surroundings masked by a thick, impenetrable fog.  There was no noise save
for the sound of a small waterfall, more of the white water tumbling over
the edge to renew the pond.  Wispy clouds of steam rose from the base of
the waterfall, drifting off to join the fog encircling her.

She stretched out, weightless, suspended in the wonderful, soothing liquid.
She could not remember ever feeling so relaxed, so centred and at peace.
The very touch of the water on her naked skin rejuvenated her, filling her
with its delightful heat and easing the pain from her muscles.  She let out
a long, slow sigh and closed her eyes.  The water seemed to wash away her
cares and worries, leaving behind only contentment.

This place is wonderful.

The vague question of just where 'this place' was drifted lazily across the
fringes of her consciousness but was ignored, unwelcome in a mind filled
with the delicate pleasure of the water pouring onto and over her.
Stretching her arms out overhead she let out a long, slow, happy yawn.
She had been on her feet for so long in the mud and the rain that she had
forgotten what a soft, warm resting place felt like.

A faint hum caught her ears, and she opened her eyes to see where it was
coming from.  A multitude of tiny lights buzzed back and forth through the
fog around her, flitting to and fro like fireflies.  Even through the thick
fog the tiny pinpricks of light shone through, tinting the fog itself
white with diffuse light.

"Wow," Akane murmured, entranced by the delicate sway of the lights, each
moving independently but somehow bound together, ebbing back and forth
through the fog, a luminescent ocean swell.  "They're beautiful."

All around her the lights swam, a galaxy of stars dancing to some unknown
beat, twisting and swirling around each other with boundless energy.  One
of them pulled away, bursting through the fog to speed away from it and
toward Akane.

She watched closely as it floated toward her in a gentle arc, glimmering
with a bright glow that was no longer obscured by the fog.  The thought
that it might be dangerous flitted across her mind, moving as quickly as
the pixyish ball of light before her.  The thought was quickly dismissed;
this creature was playful, not malevolent.  It did not slow as it neared
her, but instead veered off its trajectory and began to zip to and fro
around her head, zigging and zagging seemingly at random.

The tiny sprite danced around her, skimming occasionally across her skin
with a touch that was warm and ticklish.  Akane found herself giggling as
the little nymph sped across her shoulders and through her hair, sending
droplets of water flying as strands were knocked up into the air.

Come back here, she thought to herself, squirming at the ticklish touch.
One hand raised to try and catch the little creature, but it was speedy and
nimble, her hand seeming slow and clumsy by comparison.  Determined, she
made swipe after swipe, trying to snatch the mischievous little being from
the air.

Patience, or perhaps good fortune, paid off; after several misguided
attempts, she managed to snag it, caging it between her fingers and the
palm of her hand.  Delighted, she let out a cry of triumph.

"Gotcha!"

The creature buzzed back and forth, banging against the walls of its cage,
but it could not escape.  Akane raised her hand toward her face, peeking in
between her spread fingers to look closely at the nymph.  It shone
brightly, thick shafts of white light radiating through the gaps between
her fingers.

She stared closely, watching the tiny movements it made as it
buzzed back and forth.  A small dark patch marked one side, a shadow
lurking within the alabaster radiance.  She frowned, and made soothing
sounds.

"You're hurt, aren't you, little guy?"

* * *

"Let me go!" Ryoga yelled, tugging against Akane's hand.  Little guy?  What
the hell was she talking about?  This girl was insane!

"Maybe this'll help you feel better, hmm?" she said, in that
same distant tone - almost an echo rather than a voice.  She smiled, her
eyes still locked directly upon his.  "Just relax."

Ryoga considered yelling for help - he had no idea why he had not done so
already - but for some reason he couldn't bring himself to.  There was
something about the look on her face - something about the light that shone
within her eyes  that felt intensely familiar to him, almost soothing.  A
warmth spread up his arm, and his struggles slowed.

A droplet of water struck his cheek, making him flinch.  He glanced
upwards, and his jaw fell open.  What the -hell- is that?

* * *

Akane smiled intently at the little creature as she lowered her hand into
the milky water, submerging it partway.  It splashed furiously into and out
of the water, tickling the palm of her hand delightfully as it danced
about.

"Hey, calm down!" she said through her laughter, wriggling her fingers at
the ticklish sensations.  "You'll hurt yourself!"

As if on cue, the creature slowed and eventually came to a stop, resting
peacefully upon the water's surface.  She lowered her head, dipping her
chin into the water, and watched it closely, her smile growing wider.  It
felt wonderful to be helping the creature; there was something so innately
-right- about it that she could not stop smiling.

She wondered for a moment why she had thought to bathe the creature, but
could not quite put her finger upon it.  Whatever it was, it was right.
The water seemed to be just the thing her new friend needed.

"It's nothing that a nice warm bath won't fix.  You'll be better in no
time!"

* * *

"A bath," Ryoga muttered, staring incredulously at the heavy, water-laden
rainclouds that had formed overhead, hovering just beneath the ceiling.
The room's red light danced among the clouds, illuminating the first few
fat droplets of rain as they began to tumble down to the floor.  "You call
this a bath?"

Before he could say another word, the clouds opened, casting down a torrent
of water.  He went from dry to drenched in a matter of moments.  The rain
was not cold, as he had expected, however; the droplets were warm to the
touch, almost hot.  The many puddles that had formed across the floor let
off trails of steam that snaked up to rejoin the cloud overhead.  Before
long, the room resembled a sauna.

Still firmly secured, Ryoga could do little but watch the rain fall.  He
knew that this was impossible, that it could not be happening, and yet it
was, before his very eyes.  He shook his head in wonderment, and let the
warm liquid wash over his face.  What else could he do?

At least he didn't seem to be in any danger.  Far from it - the water's
warmth radiated a sense of security, of sanctuary.  Even standing in a
restricted security zone, in the bowels of a classified submarine, next to
a potentially dangerous, regenerative lifeform, he felt somehow safe.

"If I'd known this was going to happen, I would have brought an umbrella,"
he decided, finally overcome by the absurdity of it all.  Closing his eyes,
he let the warmth soak into him.

* * *

"Hey, you're looking as good as new!" Akane announced, delighted with the
progress her friend had made.  The newfound brilliance of its glow made her
realise just how faded it had been only moments ago.  The darkness was
gone, the shadow banished.

Slowly and carefully, she lifted her hand from the water, gave her friend
one final smile, and opened her hand.  The tiny sprite immediately jumped
to life, buzzing from her hand and into the air.  It hovered there for just
a moment before lowering down once more to touch her palm.  There it stayed
for just a moment, before zipping away from her to rejoin the others in the
fog.

She sat up, shivering a little as the cold air touched her bare skin, and
smiled as she watched her friend return to its brethren.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Ryoga jumped as his arm was released, realising suddenly how dizzy he felt.
He staggered backwards, struggling to maintain his balance, his blurred
vision unable to find a reference point amongst the rain.  His head spun,
flashes of colour spinning in front of his eyes.

His arms wheeled, looking for support but finding none.  His cane was long
forgotten, and his hands could not find purchase to support him.  He felt
his body tipping backwards, and a faint sense of dread penetrated the
euphoric anaesthesia that had spread through his mind.  Something struck
his back, or rather, was struck by his back; a small, collapsible table had
fallen under his weight, sending equipment flying through the air to crash
to the ground below.  The table clattered to the ground nearby.

The impact was much softer than he expected; in fact, he barely felt a
thing.  There was a splash, he knew that much.  He gave momentary thanks
that he had not fallen face-down into a puddle.  He stared up at the
ceiling, unable to move, but thankful for the support of the floor.  If
nothing else, it allowed him to fight off the debilitating dizziness that
had afflicted him.

The rainclouds remained overhead, still drenching him with rain, a thousand
kaleidoscopic droplets hurtling toward his face.  Among them, though, was a
large white shape.  Puzzled, Ryoga willed his eyes to focus upon it as it
drifted down toward him.

With considerable reluctance his eyes obeyed, pulling the fuzzy white shape
into sharp relief.  He could only hold it in focus for a moment, but it was
long enough to recognise it for what it was:  a single white feather,
floating gently downwards toward him.

Moments later, unconsciousness took him.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Ukyo stepped forward carefully, keenly aware of the sword-tip pressing
firmly against her neck.  She stumbled on a rock, and felt the weapon
press deeper, penetrating her skin.  She fought the instinct to flinch.

-My Lady, Ranma's weapon is pointed directly at a critical Core juncture
located between your third and fourth cervical vertebrae.  If this juncture
is damaged, the Core will cease to function correctly, to say nothing of
the harm such damage will do to your body.  I recommend extreme caution.-

-I don't need you to tell me how dangerous it is to have someone point a
sword at your neck,- Ukyo groused.  -How much longer is the Frame repair
going to take?-

-Fifty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds remain, My Lady.-

-I don't know if I can string Ranma along for another hour.  She's no fool.
She's starting to get suspicious.-

-Yes, My Lady.-

The march downhill continued, the trees and foliage growing steadily less
dense with each footstep.  The ground grew muddier and more boglike as the
slope lessened, a night's worth of rain having collected near the base of
the mountain.  Sunlight broke through the trees, and the sound of running
water met her ears as she stepped out into a grassy area beyond the
forest's edge.

Before her the Toyohira River flowed, its clear waters running rapidly by.
The flow was turbulent, the river's banks swelled by the recent downpour of
rain.  Ukyo stepped to the water's edge and looked down at the pebble-lined
riverbed.

-Damn it.  I'm running out of places to lead her,- she said, turning to
lead Ranma along the riverbank, following the flow of the water.

"You're stalling for time."

"No, I'm not."

"She's been hurt, hasn't she?"

"No, she hasn't.  We're getting close now," Ukyo bluffed.  "We're nearly
there."

"I hope for your sake that you're not lying," Ranma growled, accompanying
her words with a prod of her sword.  "Akane is the only thing in this world
that matters to me.  She -is- this world to me.  If you have harmed my
world, then I'll destroy yours, along with all of your precious Phoenix
friends."

"What?" Ukyo said, Ranma's words holding her in place.  The cold touch of
the blade to her neck stopped her from turning.  "Destroy my world?  What
are you saying?"

"They've been hunting me for centuries, just like you.  You're not like
them, though.  I can see their souls; I can destroy them.  But you, you
hide your soul.  When I cut you with my sword I cut your flesh, but not
your spirit.  But now, you are wearing the uniform of a Phoenix soldier.
Now, things are different.  You're working together.  You're one of them."

-What the hell is she saying?- Ukyo asked.  -How can I have been hunting
her for centuries?  I'm only ... only ....-

-My Lady?-

-Gods, I don't even know how old I am.-

-Your physical condition is that of an eighteen-year-old, My Lady.-

-I don't think I'm eighteen.  I survived having my head cut off, but I
don't remember much of anything before that.  I could be ten thousand years
old and not know it.-

-Speculation and nothing more, My Lady.-

"The Phoenix soldiers are weak.  The slightest touch of my sword makes them
burn.  But you, you are different.  You are strong," Ranma said.  She fell
silent for a moment before speaking, her voice quiet.  "They know I can't
kill you.  And now, they are using you to get to me."

"What are you saying?"

"Gods, it all makes sense," Ranma continued.  "You don't have Akane.
-They- have her.  They took her, while I was fighting you.  You're just a
distraction."

-She is becoming increasingly agitated, My Lady.  You must calm her.-

-I want to know what she's saying.  She seems to know much more about me
and what's going on than I do.-

-To allow her to continue is an unacceptable risk.  She may grow violent.
I suggest you continue this conversation at a more prudent time.-

-A more prudent time?-

-When you do not have a sword at your neck, My Lady.-

"If they've harmed her, I will hunt down every single one of those Phoenix
bastards, and then I will come for you," Ranma growled.  "You may be
immortal, but I -will- find a way to make your soul burn, even if it takes
an eternity."

-I see what you mean, Seraph Wing,- Ukyo said.  She thought for a moment.
-How long will it take to repair the radio?  I've got an idea.-

-Your communication array is much more sophisticated than a mere radio, My
Lady.  Nevertheless, I estimate it could be repaired in approximately
fifty-three seconds by the primary repair modules.-

-Do it.  Get it up and running again.-

-This will delay the Frame repairs, My Lady.  I strongly advise against
such a course of action.-

-Just get on with it.  I have a plan.-

-As you wish, My Lady.  Might I enquire as to the nature of your plan?-

-You'll see.-

"You're right," Ukyo called over her shoulder.  "You're right.  I don't
have Akane.  They took her."

Ranma's arm grabbed her shoulder.  She felt herself being pulled back, and
the cold touch of Ranma's blade upon her throat.  "Tell me where they took
her.  Now."

"Submarine ... there's a submarine," she said, trying to keep still as
Ranma's arm moved across her chest, holding her tightly.  "The Leviathan
Spring.  She was taken there."

-What are you doing?- Seraph Wing demanded.  -This is a mistake!-

-Our mission was to return Ranma to the Spring, yes?- Ukyo countered.
-This way, she'll come without a fight.  There are facilities aboard the
Spring to deal with her, aren't there?-

-Yes, but revealing the location of the Spring is not a wise tactical
decision.  If she knows the location of the Spring, it becomes vulnerable.
There are many people aboard.  What if she were to attack it?-

-She won't.  Not if she thinks Akane is aboard.  Once we're at the Spring,
we can contain her.  I'll get Seriatim and cut her in two.  I'll kill her,
somehow.-

-I will attempt to find a less risky solution.-

-No.  Show some faith, Seraph Wing.-

-As you wish, My Lady,- Seraph Wing replied, complete with digitised sigh.

"Where is it?" Ranma asked, tightening her arm's grip.

"It's out at sea," Ukyo replied.  "You'll have to take a helicopter to get
there."

-The repairs are complete, My Lady.  Please, be careful.-

Ranma fell silent for a moment before speaking.  "Your new friends have
many helicopters.  Bring one, and we'll find out if you're telling the
truth."

* * *

Scar looked over Baker's shoulder as the helicopter moved in a slow circle
above the trees.  They had been hovering around the mountain for several
minutes, but had so far found nothing besides a flock of frightened birds.
Each of his team members was searching in their own way; himself and Baker
looking directly down at the ground, Angel and Link huddled around the
sensor monitoring equipment at the rear of the chopper.

"Sir!  I'm getting a signal!"

"What?" Scar replied, jolted to attention.  "From where?"

"From Wing, Sir," Link replied.  She tapped at the console with one hand,
the other holding her headphones tight against one ear.  "It's weak.  Seems
like it originated a couple of clicks south."

"South.  Take this bird south," Scar called to the pilot.  "What kind of
signal is it?"

"Radio, Sir.  Encoded with our standard algorithm.  It's pretty garbled -
I can't quite make it out.  Give me a second, I'll see if I can clear it
up."

"She's alive!" Angel exclaimed, delighted.  She reached over and shook
Baker's shoulder.  "Hey, shut the door!"

"What?" asked Baker, pulling the door closed behind him as he turned to
Angel.  "What'd you say?"

"We've found her," Angel replied, beaming.  "We've found her!"

"I've tidied up the signal," Link said.  "I'll patch it through to your
earpieces.  It's still pretty weak, so listen closely."

Scar nodded his acknowledgement and raised one hand to his head, holding
the earpiece tightly to his ear.  The others aboard the helicopter did the
same, each struggling to hear the faint sound.

"Repeat, this is Wing, requesting immediate assistance.  Please respond."

"Wing, good to hear from you," Scar replied, intense relief washing over
him.  He let out a long breath.  "You had us worried there for a while."

"Scar?"

"None other," he replied.  He gave the others in the helicopter a
determined look, and found it mirrored in their faces.  "We're coming to
get you.  Just hang in there."

"No.  Stop."

"Stop?  Why?" Angel interrupted.

"Angel?  Damn it, I didn't want to get you involved in this again.  Is the
whole team there?"

"Almost," Scar replied, glancing to the two empty seats on the far side of
the chopper.  "Why should we stop?"

"Listen to me very carefully.  I'm not alone.  Ranma is holding me
hostage."

"What?  Are you hurt, Ukyo?" Angel asked.

"No.  No, I'm not hurt, but Ranma is demanding passage to the Leviathan
Spring.  Are there any other choppers nearby?  I need an empty chopper to
transport her."

"I'll check," Scar replied, and signaled for Link to cut the microphone.
She nodded and complied.  He sighed.  "Damn it.  We're the only team in
town."

"We're the only chopper in this area," Link confirmed, examining the
monitor closely.  "Bravo's choppers are searching for survivors from Blue,
and the remainder of the helicopters were damaged in our initial skirmish."

Scar rubbed his forehead, sweat staining his gloves.  "Well, that leaves us
with only one option."

He cast his eyes around the chopper, silently asking each of the others the
same question.  Baker and Link glanced at each other - Link looked
terrified; Baker resolute.  They both nodded their assent.  Scar turned his
eyes to Angel.

"She saved my life," Angel said firmly.  "I'm not leaving without her."

"All right, we're in agreement.  We'll pick her up ourselves."

A hushed murmur moved through the cabin, accompanied by furtive glances
filled with questions.  Scar sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

"I know we didn't plan for this, but we have to adapt as best we can.  This
is going to be a very delicate situation that could get really ugly really
quickly, so let's try to keep our cool.  If we get her to the Spring
without incident we can contain her there, when we're not quite so cramped.
Keep that in mind.  We only have to get her to the Spring."

* * *

-Wing, we can confirm we have a chopper inbound to your location, ETA two
minutes,- came Link's voice.

-Roger,- Ukyo replied, the communications array implanted at the base of
her skull converting the thought patterns into radio waves, transmitting
her response.  -I'll be waiting.-

"A chopper is on its way," she said, the sharp blade against her neck
preventing her from turning her head.  "They'll be here any minute to pick
us up."

"All without saying a word," Ranma replied, her frozen breath washing over
Ukyo's ear.  "Amazing what they've done to you with their technology,
Ukyo.  Phoenix has certainly advanced over the years.  They've come a long
way since the rabble of idiotic, drunken mercenaries that held you hostage
all those centuries ago, don't you agree?"

Ukyo felt her chest tightening, Ranma's words ringing in her ears.  "What?
What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you don't remember?" Ranma replied sardonically.  "I really shouldn't
have saved your life that day.  It was Shampoo's idea - she didn't know any
better.  I did consider simply leaving you with them, I must admit, but you
looked so innocent. I was naive in those days.  I never imagined you would
end up working for them."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I'm surprised you've forgotten," Ranma continued, her voice growing quiet.
She leaned in closer, soft lips brushing against Ukyo's skin.  When she
spoke, her words were empty, devoid of emotion and life.  "I haven't
forgotten.  I remember saving your life.  I remember your lies, I remember
you pretending to be my friend.  I remember your betrayal.  And, most of
all, I remember what you did to Kayoko."

Ukyo swallowed, painfully aware of Ranma's sword at her throat.  She felt
her palms sweating and a strange, sickly feeling spreading through her
stomach.  She had no idea what Ranma was talking about, and yet there was a
strange familiarity to the words ....

"I will punish you until the end of time for what you did to her.  You'll
die, again and again and again, until death itself is no more," Ranma
whispered icily, her words trailing into silence.  The sound of her breath
filled Ukyo's ear.

Ukyo struggled against Ranma's grip, but the hold was solid, leaving her no
leeway.  The slippery, opalescent material of Ranma's cloak flowed around
her, coiling around her legs, tightly restraining her from her ankles to
her hips.  The intangible sense of Ranma's presence expanded, a profound
sense of emptiness that engulfed her.  She felt a dark presence growing
behind her, a perception infinitely more vivid than her spatial sense.

"But that's -nothing- compared to what I'll do to you if they've hurt my
Akane," Ranma giggled, a sound filled with manic malevolence.  Slowly, she
ran her tongue along the edge of Ukyo's ear, and sucked lightly at the
lobe.  "The others will just die, but you, I'll make you suffer.  -Gods-,
you will suffer."

Ukyo shuddered, the tingling sensation of Ranma's frozen tongue sliding
moistly against her skin both repulsive and exhilarating at the same time.
She closed her eyes, trying to shield herself from the profound coldness
that emanated from her captor, but despite herself she could feel her
strength ebbing as Ranma's vampiric touch once again leeched the warmth
from her body.

Gods, what is she doing to me?

"You'll suffer for me," Ranma whispered, her voice changing, becoming deep,
echoing within itself.  Her words carried an ethereal gravity, demanding
Ukyo's attention, her obedience.  Their noses touched, their faces pressed
together.  Ukyo felt the muscles in Ranma's cheek move as she smiled.
"You'll suffer in ways you can't imagine, in ways that only the immortal
can."

Part of her cried out for mercy, urging her to give in, to surrender to the
arctic embrace that held her.  Her knees gave way and she fell back onto
Ranma's chest, her head lolling onto Ranma's shoulder as frosted kisses
trailed down the bare skin of her neck, each sapping her resolve more than
the last.  Through the spreading numbness she could feel Ranma's hand upon
her body, touching her, constraining her.  She hung limply, unable to
resist.

Death shall be your lover, whispered a voice inside her mind.  And you the
faithful servant, dying for Ranma, for the rest of time.  Bound together
for all eternity, just as it should be.  This is where you belong.  Can't
you feel it?

The voice echoed inside her mind, hypnotic, entreating her with its lyrical
tone.  The haunting words penetrated her body and her mind, compelling her
with a will that would not be denied.

Your debt can never be paid.  You are mine.

"Nooooo ...." she moaned, a keening wail that died in her throat.  Hot
tears streamed down her cheeks, their heat hungrily devoured by Ranma's
mouth as it caressed her skin.  She felt herself surrendering, her mind and
her body giving way to the dark, cold void that was consuming her.  As it
closed around her, one final thought crossed her lips, a faint, whispered
cry.  "Ryoga ... forgive me ...."

You belong to -me-, Ukyo.  Just ... like ... Ranma.

She panted, the pounding beat of her heart deafening in her ears.  Her eyes
opened, the bright light of the sun illuminating the pale skin of Ranma's
neck, lending it an almost transluscent glow.  Try as she might to stay
still, she found her head tilting toward that porcelain skin, felt the
gentle touch of her lips pressing against it.

Yes, whispered the voice, tendrils snaking into her mind.  You both want
this. I can feel it.  Ranma understands, and so shall you.

Even as a drawn-out cry of anguish echoed in the edges of Ukyo's mind, a
small smile spread across her face.  She could no longer deny the need
growing inside her; she nuzzled Ranma's neck, her shallow breath catching
in her throat as her show of affection was rewarded, Ranma's hand slowly--

-Heads up, here we come!-

Both Ukyo and Ranma jolted at the sound of Scar's voice within Ukyo's mind,
the cloak leaping from Ukyo's body and retreating to the ground, its
departure far more rapid than its insidious arrival.  They both snapped to
attention, startled, as if jarred from a dream.  Her head swam; she shook
it, gulping down oxygen as she tried to pull herself from the remnants of
Ranma's lustful hold.

"Let me go!" she yelled, willing her body to move.  It did not obey,
leaving her sprawled across Ranma.  Ranma breathed heavily as well, and
Ukyo felt her captor's head moving, seemingly glancing around them.
Ranma's grip loosened slightly, but Ukyo was too disoriented to take
advantage of the momentary lapse.

She felt herself being shoved forwards, leaving the swell of Ranma's chest
behind as she swayed back and forth upon her own feet.  A moment of silence
passed between them.

-Come in, Wing.  Do you copy?-

"Akane.  I need to see Akane," Ranma said after a time, in a small, shaky
voice that was her own. She took a deep breath and shook her head back and
forth.  A touch of hardness returned to her voice.  "Take me to Akane."

Ukyo felt the grip of Ranma's arm grow tight around her shoulders.  She
raised one hand to her stomach and clutched it, lowering her head slightly,
ignoring the bite of the blade at her neck as it sliced a tiny line across
her skin.  She dizzily looked down at her own shaking hand and saw the
ground beyond it circling hazily, out of focus.

The approaching helicopter kicked up gusts of dust and air, sending dry
leaves flying around the pair as the sounds of its rotors grew ever louder.
She touched her stomach queasily, feeling very much as though her legs were
about to give way.

-My Lady, what happened?- Seraph Wing asked.  -I could not sense your
presence.  Are you alright?-

-I don't know,- Ukyo replied, fighting back nausea.  -I felt ... I feel
sick.-

* * *

Ryoga's eyes snapped open.  Wide awake, his gaze zipped back and forth,
taking in his surroundings.  The sound of his own gasped breath filled his
ears, joined by a multitude of others: the low buzz of the small red light
overhead, the distant hum of an air-conditioning unit as it worked to cool
the air, the low rumble of the Leviathan Spring's engines.

Vague memories began to resurface.  Faint memories of rainclouds, sloshing
water and clouds of steam smouldered in his mind, evoking a strong sense of
familiarity.  He stared at the ceiling, but it was bare; ran his hands
along the metallic floor, but it was dry.

Was it a dream?

Slowly, cautiously, he sat up.  A small table lay nearby, its legs broken.
Fanned out beyond the table were dozens of scattered sheets of paper and
mixed among them, tiny shards of broken glass.  He stared at the table for
a long time, confusion clouding his thoughts.

He quite clearly remembered falling, striking the table, but while the
table remained, the water which caused his fall did not.  The sheets of
paper were typewritten, cleanly printed, showing no smudges or other signs
of contact with moisture.

Glancing down at himself, he noted that his clothes were dry, which only
added to his confusion.  The warm, moist sensation of his shirt stuck to
skin was etched clearly into his mind, the memory springing forth with
surprising clarity.  A scowl crossed his face - none of this made any
sense.

Something caught his eye; a small white shape protruding from beneath his
leg.  A gentle tug revealed it to be a small feather, its length shimmering
purest white, despite the pervasive red glow of the room's lighting.  He
swallowed, his throat dry.  He certainly remembered the feather.  Slowly,
he got to his feet and moved toward the girl laying in the nearby bed.  She
was responsible for this, he knew, and he wanted to know what was going on.

"Ow!"

A dull pain jolted through his left foot, centred on the largest toe, and a
dull wooden clatter filled the room.  Hopping, clutching his stubbed toe,
he looked down at the object he had accidentally kicked.

His eyes widened.  It was his walking cane.

His hopping came to an abrupt stop, the pain forgotten.  He was standing.
Standing on his right leg, the leg Ranma had long ago shattered, fragmented
into uselessness.  Keeping his left foot aloft, he bent and straightened
his right knee; it easily supported his weight, flexing without even the
slightest twinge of pain.

His mind stood paralysed for a moment, uncomprehending.  Gradually, as the
realisation dawned that he was not dreaming, and not imagining, a wide
grin spread across his face.  He exhaled in a half-laugh, half-cough,
scarcely believing what had happened.

"You did this, didn't you?" he asked, turning to Akane.  Her eyes were upon
him, staring through him, still glowing white at their cores.  He swallowed
as he stared at her hair.  A luminescent hue infused the strands, an
unnatural glow that he had seen once before.  "Gods, you're a dragon, just
like her."

The sleeping Akane did not answer.

* * *

Colonel Hunter watched Ryoga emerge from the containment room, his eyebrow
quirked.  The boy had only been gone for fifteen minutes.  Ukyo's
preliminary examination had taken much longer.  He cleared his throat as
Ryoga hobbled toward him.

"Report."

"Sir.  The preliminary examination went well," Ryoga replied, seeming
somehow distracted.  He hastily added, "but it will take some time to
modify a new Seraph Wing to suit her."

"Hopefully not as long as the last," Hunter prodded, his jaw tightening.
The time constraints on this initiation were much more demanding than
Ukyo's.

"I'll have to look at my data, but yes, it will be quicker than Ukyo's
procedure, simply because we have done it before."

"Good.  When will you begin?"

"I've got to do some theoretical work first, and consult with Yoiko," Ryoga
replied.  "We should be underway in a couple of days."

"Glad to hear it.  Keep up the good work," Hunter replied.  He watched
Ryoga hobble away, and called after him, "I shouldn't have to remind you to
keep this quiet.  Tell Yoiko what she needs to know and nothing more.
Understood?"

Ryoga looked back over his shoulder and nodded.  "Yes, Sir.  Understood,
Sir."

Hunter watched the boy leave, narrowing his eyes.  There was something
different about him, but he could not put his finger upon it.  A strange,
wild look in his eyes, a slight change in the way he carried himself.  He
shrugged, and wrote it off as the imaginings of a mind under pressure.

"Send an escort to watch him," said a voice behind him.

Turning, he saw Hammer and Anvil standing in the corridor outside the
containment room.  Both regarded him cooly, their expressions identical,
as always.

"No.  I trust him.  An escort would only make him suspicious."

"It is foolish to rely on him to keep such a thing secret," Anvil observed.
"An armed escort would ensure his silence."

"No, damn it," Hunter countered, anger growing.  "That boy is the closest
thing I have to a son.  I'm not going to treat him like a common criminal
just because you two say so."

"As you wish," Hammer replied, acquiescent.  "Remember, though, the
responsibility lies upon your shoulders."

"We do not need to tell you what will happen if there is an information
leak aboard this vessel."

"I know," Hunter said with a growl.  He turned and began marching away from
the twins.  Spooks pissed him off, and he was in no mood to deal with their
cloak-and-dagger bullshit.  Ryoga was a good, honest boy, and unworthy of
their paranoia.  "If you'll excuse me, I have other tasks to take care of."

* * *

"He is a fool," Hammer muttered as the Colonel disappeared around a corner.

"Yes," Anvil agreed.  "The boy is already deceiving him."

"It does not matter.  Ryujin's progress is promising.  You saw her
abilities.  Regeneration of that magnitude is far beyond the capabilities
of her predecessors.  Kayoko has finally chosen an heir."

"She is far more advanced than we had anticipated.  She's crossed the
threshold - nothing can stop her development now.  She will soon surpass
Ryukyu.  At this point, an information leak is irrelevant."

"Irrelevant, yes, but not without consequences.  Contact the Council,
request a standby team of Ghosts.  We may need them."

"They are already en route," Anvil said.  "They will be here within the
hour."

* * *

Ryoga leaned heavily against the elevator's handrail as the platform slowly
ascended the shaft.  Sweat ran in rivulets down his back, his heart
pounded, his breath came in deep gulps.  The Colonel must have known he was
lying.  Gods, he was a terrible liar.

He just hoped that the Colonel had fallen for his woefully poor acting, and
his terribly artificial limping.  There had been no examination, nor did he
have any plans to modify Seraph Wing.  He just needed to buy some time,
time to think.  He needed to think this situation through.

Come on, he urged the elevator.  Go faster.  Go.

Sliding his hand into his pocket, he closed his fingers around the feather.
It hummed in his hand, radiating a gentle warmth.  He had to speak to
Yoiko, to Ukyo.  There was another dragon.  A dragon that had healed him.
How many more were there?  Why had no-one ever told him?

* * *

The helicopter touched down heavily, its skids sliding slightly along the
rough earth before finding purchase in a rocky patch, bringing the craft to
a halt.  Ukyo held up one hand to shield her face from the beating wind as
Ranma urged her toward the chopper's door, which slid open as they drew
near.

The barrels of two submachine guns met her as the door moved aside, but
were quickly lowered as Ukyo shook her head.  Her eyes widened as she
caught sight of the faces behind the guns - Scar and Baker stared back at
her.

-What the hell are they doing here?- she asked.  -They were supposed to
send an empty chopper!-

-Apparently, they decided not to, My Lady.-

"Get in," Ranma growled into her ear.  Ukyo complied, stepping into the
chopper.  Ranma followed, her sword never leaving Ukyo's neck.  Scar and
Baker moved to the rear of the chopper, making way for the two newcomers to
sit at the front, behind the pilot.

Ranma slid the door shut with her free hand, before sliding it around
Ukyo's waist to secure her.

"Lower the guns," she ordered, gesturing with her sword for emphasis.  The
two men complied, albeit reluctantly.  "Now let's get this chopper in the
air."

"Do it," Ukyo added as Scar looked to her.  Scar nodded and spoke into the
microphone inside his helmet, and the helicopter lifted into the air.

Ukyo looked back and forth amongst her four compatriots, wanting very much
to speak to them, to ask them why the hell they had come for her in person,
but she dared not with Ranma's sword at her throat.  Instead, she could
only stare at them in frustrated silence.

She glanced at Angel, whose wide eyes were overflowing with concern, asking
if she was alright.  Despite the intense nausea she had felt ever since
Ranma touched her she gave a small nod, and tried to smile at the medic. It
was all she could do; she hoped it was understood.

Scar and Baker carried the same determined look.  Scar's fingers were
twitching at his gun, and she shook her head.  No, she mouthed.  Don't even
think about it.

Guns would do no good against Ranma.  They all knew that.  Ranma could
bring the chopper down in a heartbeat if provoked, and none of the other
members of Ukyo's team were blessed with her regenerative abilities.  The
only strategy was to wait, make it back to the Leviathan Spring.  She could
tell from the looks upon their faces that they knew that - she could also
tell that they did not like it at all.

They were beginning to shiver, their breath turning to mist that hung upon
the air.  Ranma's presence was beginning to have its inevitable effect upon
them.  She looked away from them, preferring to look out through the window
and watch the forest roll by.

The trees gave way to mountains; the mountains gave way to a bright blue
sky.  It was a beautiful, sunny day outside.  Perhaps, she reasoned, she
could pretend it was an ordinary flight, and forget about the sword at her
throat and the yawning hole in her soul.

Despite her efforts, her thoughts returned to the moments before the
helicopter's arrival, to the dark, cold dream that had possessed her so
completely.  She remembered little more than fuzzy images, strained
recollections of a half-forgotten nightmare.  The few memories she held
were of strong, intense emotions.

Terror, helplessness, and despair mingled in her mind, the recollection as
unsettling as the experience itself.  She caught sight of her reflection in
the glass windows of the helicopter, and found herself staring.  Those
eyes, those hollow, blue eyes, terrified her.  She did not recognise these
eyes upon her face.  There was something within them that was not her own.

She shuddered and turned her eyes away, unable to look any more.  Ranma's
face was also reflected in the glass, glowing in the light of the
midmorning sun.  A cold, startling realisation washed over her - Ranma's
eyes carried exactly the same expression as her own.

They were not the eyes of a killer.  They were frightened, hollow,
violated.  Seeking understanding, searching for comfort, yet unable to find
either.  Ranma wanted to find both within Akane.  Ukyo blinked hard,
fighting back tears that threatened to spring up upon her face.  She
understood the loneliness in those eyes; she had seen it within her own.

She realised then that Ranma was no longer watching the others, but looking
back at her.  In that instant, she knew that Ranma was asking the exact
same question as she.

What the hell did you do to me?

= = = =
T E N
= = = =




Regards,
R. E.

========

Ten
http://ten.waxwolf.com
Perfection has a price.

========

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