Name: Ranma Saotome

Organizational Status: Mercenary unit, class S

Nationality: Japanese

Age: 16 years (estimate)

Physical status: Critical as of 7/13/2002

Mental status: Stable

Subject background: Ranma Saotome's background is not extensively known, as he has had little long-term contact with civilization and thus has no proper civilian or military records outside of these very documents. That said, he has shown little reluctance to answer queries about his past and has been extremely cooperative with our engineering and research teams. Some have accused him of fabricating many of the stories about his past, if only because they seem entirely impossible, but then again, recent events have dramatically changed what is to be considered "impossible".
Born within Japan, Saotome underwent strenuous high-level close-combat training at an early age under the instruction of his father, which included harsh and at times deadly survivalist training. During the demon outbreak at the beginning of the Death March, his father was killed, but Saotome managed to survive long enough to make contact with human forces. Since then his allegiances have mostly been brief and chaotic, but what few reports there are of his services outside of what we've observed have placed him as being competent and trustworthy, and he has done nothing to challenge that while under Israel's employment.
Ranma Saotome boasts physical capabilities far beyond the norm of ordinary humans, including our most elite commandos; he can effectively dodge rifle fire, survive incredible levels of force, and impacts from his punches and kicks have been seen to break through steel. These and other abilities he refuses to classify as magic, claiming that they belong to school of physical combat and utilize something called "ki". This claim has not been investigated.
As of the time of his volunteering for Project Magi Excelsius, Saotome had served on forty-one missions under various commands. He had sustained seventeen minor injuries in action, two major injuries that were corrected via new medical techniques (healing magic), and refused three separate offers to enlist properly into the Israeli armed forces at an inflated pay grade. Beyond this, his combat record, including his kill count, deals with some sensitive operations and has been classified. It can be divulged, however, that his specialization seemed to be assassination, although Saotome did not advertise this fact.

Project background: At the time of testing, Project Magi Excelsius was entering the testing phase for series 42 of its engineering designs, discarding the previous experiment series 40 - despite its considerable success with subject Karen Molsk - and the series 41 design, which head researcher Harmon stated was nothing but a "polished version of series 40." His engineering team, led by Bernan von Harret, proposed a radically different approach to the problem of aligning mana transmission with spell formation: by using new crystal matrix technologies, which had shown superior ability to absorb and replicate spell patterns, he had hoped to use the human soldier as a mere trigger and power source, installing a complete spellcasting apparatus that would perform all the dangerous, difficult, and distracting actions of spellcasting with but a mental command from the vessel and a bit of attention toward aiming. After completing a working apparatus that functioned effectively when linked to a small-scale mana reactor, Harret proclaimed that the system was ready for human testing.

Experiment 801-ME-42: (From Bernan von Harret's notes) "Due to the larger and more extensive casting apparatus that must be installed within the human body, it was decided that a superior physical specimen would be necessary to recover from the extensive surgery that would be required in the implant process. After perusing the selection of candidates, a colleague of mine asked for my assistance with a unique case in which he was chosen to study the physical enigma of a certain mercenary whom the recruiting staff were certain was not human. While I wasn't much help to my colleague, the brief encounter was very helpful to me, and I immediately went about acquiring the young man as a test subject. It was not easy, as he seemed reluctant, and my superiors were absolutely against the idea of possibly granting our most powerful technological breakthroughs to a mercenary. Over time, however, I convinced the mercenary - a Japanese boy named Ranma Saotome - to cooperate by assuring him that the risks were negligible, and I then convinced my superiors - ironically - that the risks were considerable, and thus it was in our best interests to perform testing on a mercenary rather than any Israeli citizens. Although I understand the concerns of my superiors, they are not a priority for me; what Saotome does with the power he will soon receive is none of my concern, and if the project does succeed and he foolishly turns his new power against Israel, my work will ensure that we will have dozens, if not hundreds, of equally capable magi-soldiers to counter him. This project is about the progression of scientific knowledge and control of magic, as well as the military supremacy of Israel in a besieged Middle East. I will not allow such petty fears to stop my work."

Experiment 801-ME-42: (Continued) Installation of the ME-42 casting apparatus into a human subject, followed by activation of the apparatus, and eventually combat testing. Surgery scheduled at 800 hours Tuesday, 7/12/2002 and estimated to take until 2000 hours the same day. System activation will begin the following day. Subject testing and training will begin ten days after activation, to allow for recovery from the surgery. Combat training date is pending...

Progression: Surgery was completed at 1800 hours Tuesday evening, without any unanticipated complications. The subject's vitals remained strong, with the only concern raised being his abnormal resistance to the sedatives used in the procedure and his alarmingly rapid recovery from their effects. Nonetheless, Harret had anticipated this possibility and corrective actions were taken before problems arose.

Incident: (From Bernan von Harret's notes) "The moment we turned on the blasted apparatus, everything went to hell. Granted, it was a very passive, contained kind of hell, as I imagine mistakes in these types of experiments can cause everything from sudden explosions to spontaneous indoor lightning storms, but nonetheless it was a complete disaster. I'm still not sure why, but the crystals immediately started absorbing mana from Saotome's body at an accelerated rate, despite not yet being called upon to cast anything. This was both confusing and fascinating, as for some time we were not aware that Saotome was actually in danger; the effects of having one's magical energies drained completely from a human body is a completely unique scenario to me and my staff. We tried to deactivate the complex, but it was like trying to turn off a river without the tools or time necessary to construct a dam; the mana flow just wouldn't stop, even as the subject started weakening. We started tossing around ways of cutting off the flow or removing a critical part so that the apparatus would no longer be capable of tapping into him as a mana source, but we were far too late. After a mere two minutes, his vitals flatlined, and his mana resonance hit zero before the apparatus failed, permanently losing function. Although I had prepared myself for the possibility of failure, this disaster struck me like a hammer; unless I can isolate an obvious and completely removable flaw in the design, it will have to be scrapped completely, and we'll have to start over with older technologies. In addition, I fear that I've inadvertently destroyed a valuable military asset to Israel; though I doubt the generals will shed any tears over this mercenary, I know one young woman personally who I expect will take his passing very poorly."

Incident + 0.6 hours: (From Bernan von Harret's notes) "We've completed our preliminary investigation into the failure of the apparatus previous to our dissection of the corpse and recovery of the device. What we've found is very unusual: Saotome's body has become a magical void; an area of mass completely devoid of mana particles and energies. Not only did the apparatus drain his immediate energies, and seemingly destroy whatever supposed mechanism the human body has for attracting and maintaining a mana level critical for survival, but the crystals have reduced his biomass to a natural magical null zone. For the uninformed reader of these notes, this is extremely bizarre, and these conditions can rarely be formed artificially, much less naturally. Inside an atmosphere - or at least inside Earth's atmosphere - mana is similar to radiation, in which even the very air carries low levels of magical energy, and areas in which there is absolutely none simply do not exist within the atmosphere. One of the unique qualities of magical energy is that it tends to gather very unequally in even a small amount of space, usually gathering around solid mass and especially biomass. A mana resonance of zero should be impossible, especially in a living creature. Or in this case, a fomerly living creature. Apart from the scientific anomaly this represents, of course, it has also resulted in catastrophic loss of body function in Saotome. It's as if every organ in his body simply quit. Still, that this accident somehow not only created, but sustained-" (This entry ends here)

Incident + 0.65 hours: (From Bernan von Harret's notes) "I have no idea how this happened, but apparently our staff went the extra mile to resuscitate Saotome despite his being far beyond clinically dead. I really have no idea what to make of this at all, but if I had to hazard a guess without any regard for whatever scientific principles are in play here, it almost seemed as if he crawled back from death out of sheer force of will. I say this because the bizarre magical null space has not abated; from what little we know of absolute mana drain, he should be dead. Absolutely, positively, too-deceased-to-even-rise-as-a-zombie dead. But... he's not. Still, while he is still unconscious, it was decided that he would immediately be moved back into surgery to have the apparatus removed. It's no use to him now, and now that the experiment has failed, the survival of the subject is our top priority. We're officially going 'back to the drawing board' on this one."

Israeli Military Research data file N-08199


Nexus II
by Black Dragon
https://www.angelfire.com/anime5/fanficlair

Disclaimer: Damn near everything belongs to me 'cept Ranma.

Words in " " are presented phonetically, or is the primary language in a scene (usually English, in this case). {" "} is spoken in a different language than the norm. Sounds are italicized, and writing is now presented in + +.

Chapter 14
Seriously, What are Friends For?

The demon knight didn't look too bad from the neck down, if only because he had replaced his trench coat yet again and had every inch of his body covered. His face, on the other hand, was a vile patchwork of ragged scars caused by the virulent poisons that had struck him. Only one of his eyes - dark and bloodshot - was visible, while the other was covered by a torn rag that was tied around his head.

Suffice to say, he looked like he should have been resting in the intensive care ward, or been awaiting surgery. Certainly not playing cards with the marines.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the Dread Knight said casually as he flicked a few coins into the pot, "deal me in."

The soldiers glanced at each other in concern.

"Do you know how to play?" One man asked.

"If I don't, then I'm about to make you all rich men, aren't I?" Rayden responded, starting to get annoyed.

The marines were about to relent, not wishing to unnecessarily antagonize the demon hunter, when a metallic dragon flew into the room, startling several of the men and adding another layer of strangeness to the scenario.

"This is so lame," K groused as he alighted on Rayden's shoulder, ignoring the looks from the soldiers. He had been getting a lot more attention ever since the battle against the dragon army, though thankfully, he was too small and harmless-looking to cause too much alarm.

"If you're bored, then barf up some precious metals and play some cards," Rayden suggested flippantly as one marine hesitantly began dealing.

"I can't spit up the things I eat, you dimwit," the metadragon mumbled.

"Then your entire species is truly worthless," Rayden responded as he picked up his cards, his one visible eye narrowing.

K scowled, wishing not for the first time that he knew what Rayden was so that he could make similarly insulting generalizations about his species.

As the first round of betting began, one marine gathered his courage and decided to try breaking into the little spat that the only two non-humans in the group were having. "So, you know any of the monsters we shot up yesterday?"

K blinked in surprise at the question. "Oh, no, not at all. I've actually had very little contact with other dragons during my life."

"Really? Why not?" The man asked, tossing his cards down to show that he folded. "Don't dragons raise their young?"

"Most of them, I guess," K mumbled, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the personal nature of the questions. He hadn't even discussed his origins or his young life with any of his teammates yet.

Though to be fair, this was because none of them were even remotely interested. It amazed K sometimes that their little band maintained such a level of mutual trust and respect when they knew so little about each others' backgrounds.

"So you weren't raised by a mama dragon?" another marine asked with a smirk.

"No... uh..." K hesitated for a moment, noting that he now had the full attention of everyone at the table, and quite a few others at the other tables as well.

Well, everyone at the table except the very person he was perched on. Rayden was completely focused on the cards in his hand.

"My egg was actually captured by dark elf poachers," K explained awkwardly. "When I was little - well, more little, I suppose - I was sold to a demon lord in Juniya, but his castle was overrun by a werewolf tribe and I was sold back onto the market as an 'exotic pet'."

"Damn, that sounds rough. Raise."

"Well, it wasn't ideal, but I wasn't treated that badly," the little dragon reasoned, "heck, in most areas in the realm, being fed and cared for your entire life is a pretty sweet deal. I certainly don't like my chances trying to fend for myself."

Bam! Rayden slammed his hand down on the table, revealing two jacks that proved a perfect addition to the other jack among the cards in the middle of the table. As the men groaned, the demonic knight grabbed a coin from the pot and tapped it against K's nose.

"Here ya go. Keep yapping and distract them from the game; it's working great."

A vein popped up on K's head, but he reluctantly bit into the coin before snapping it up entirely; he wasn't about to give up good silver.

"And what about you, big guy? What's your story?" A corporal asked as he started gathering the cards for his turn to deal.

"What do you care?" Rayden asked as he tapped another coin impatiently against the surface of the table. "I'm just another bloodthirsty demon that happens to like killing other bloodthirsty demons rather than all of you. Nothing special."

"Actually, around these parts, that is kinda special," the corporal said dryly as he started passing out the cards. "Everyone else has a story. The shifter, fangs, the beetles..."

Rayden sweatdropped as he picked up his cards. "You call the jugas 'the beetles'?"

"Mostly 'cause we're still taking bets on how long it'll take the general to get fed up and crush 'em like bugs," another marine piped up, shrugging.

"Anyway, they're all fighting alongside humans because something happened to drag them into the IEF, not because they thought it was a good idea," the corporal explained as he gestured for Rayden to bet.

The demon knight started to roll his eyes, but K suddenly spoke up. "You know, I'm kind of curious myself... you're a dark paladin belonging to one of the most infamous dark cults who just happens to be wandering around getting into fights at random... shouldn't you be part of a crusade or something? Or are you on some sort of quest?"

Rayden's eye twitched. "I don't really want to talk about it. Check."

Clang! The marines winced as the metadragon smacked the demon knight in the cheek with a wing. "Stop being a baby and spill it, you brat. I told you my story."

"Did you? I wasn't listening," Rayden grumbled, trying to concentrate on his cards.

"Hey, hey, let's take it easy," a different soldier said nervously, "if he doesn't wanna say, then it's none of our business, right? He spilled his share of blood yesterday, he's cool with us."

"S'not that, I was just hoping for a story," the corporal said evenly as he flipped a pair of coins into the pot. "Not trying to pry, but you seem like the type that has a lot to talk about."

"I prefer stabbing things to talking, really," Rayden said as he put two coins in. Then he flipped over a card. "Pair o' tens."

The corporal turned over his cards. "Pair o' aces. This round's mine."

Rayden grunted and pushed the pile of money forward.

As the marine gathered up his winnings, he smirked at the metadragon sulking on Rayden's shoulder. "Hey, buck up there, little guy! We're not bad company, are we?"

"Nah, it's not that..." K hedged.

"Then what's your problem?" Rayden asked in annoyance. "You're starting to bug me."

"Hmph," the metadragon pouted. "I was just wondering why I had to get stuck hanging out with you, that's all."

Rayden picked up his new hand as the next round began. "Well, that's simple: it's because Ranma and Kaze are off getting laid."

One of the marines spit out his drink as the others started chuckling.

"Gee, thanks, I feel SO much better about having to hang around with a mutilated death machine now," the tiny dragon deadpanned.

"Anytime, shrimp," the Dread Knight said casually before tossing his cards in. "Fold."

The colonel spent a moment looking at the various men and women seated in the room, nodding to a select few.

"First, let me offer my congratulations to Commander Addler for his exemplary performance in yesterday's combat sortie. Thanks to his expert command, we were able to establish air superiority far earlier than we had hoped and cut off two of the three attempted enemy retreats with low casualties. You and your men can expect a few medals going your way in the following weeks."

There was some pleased murmuring among the named commander and a few pilots who had shown up, along with a few quiet statements of encouragement from the others gathered in the room.

"That said, every other team we had operating yesterday did an excellent job. We faced an opposing force greater than our own in sheer power, and crushed the offensive with only light damage to the Messiah, four aircraft lost, and a grand total of thirty-two men dead, fourteen wounded. Our gunnery teams showed particular courage under the enemy assault, and sustained the most grievous casualties. Yesterday many fine men met painful and horrific ends in the line of duty, and will be honored as the heroes they are."

Many of the assembled soldiers nodded grimly as the entire room fell silent for a few seconds.

"Finally, the captain asked me to extend a special thank-you to Lieutenant Emrey... who, I'm rather surprised to see, is actually here today," Colonel Nemo said with a raised eyebrow.

He wasn't the only one surprised, which was apparent from the number of curious glances and uneasy muttering toward the rear corner of the room, where the rakshasa assassin was sitting and fuming silently.

"Your timely warning of the incoming enemy flight gave our combat crews valuable minutes of preparation time before the assault began, and may have saved numerous lives," Nemo explained to the skeptical audience.

"It was my pleasure," the demon deadpanned, clearly annoyed with having to be in the room. He was only there because Karen had asked - and then, once he'd refused, ordered - him to go in her place and take notes for her to peruse later.

Why? He could only think of one reason why Colonel Molsk would skip a debriefing after a major battle. An annoying, well-armed, pigtailed reason that was even now probably shaking the Messiah's superstructure as it performed heinous, deviant, and wonderfully pleasurable acts on his dream girl.

Shawn Nemo couldn't imagine why the rakshasa suddenly looked so glum after being recognized for his good work, but decided to move on. "I was also asked by several of the engineers and a few marines to extend their thanks to the mercenary units that were caught in the battle, particularly one... ah..." looking a bit flustered, the colonel leafed through his notepad rapidly. "Oh. One 'Ranma Sata-Sao? Saotome. Yes, Ranma Saotome. Uh... is he here?"

Emrey's eyebrow twitched as people started mumbling and glancing all about.

"I guess he wouldn't have much reason to attend the debriefing anyway," Shawn said, shrugging. "In any case, Saotome, along with his small company, displayed remarkable bravery during the enemy's boarding action, destroying numerous infiltrators and engaging the dragons on the main deck. His assistance, and that of... uh..." frowning at the other names in his notes, the colonel eventually just tore the page out and tossed it to the side. "His assistance, and that of his lackeys proved invaluable during the defensive, and our superiors offer their deepest thanks for the unsolicited help. They risked their lives for our sakes, and without any promise of compensation."

Emrey was actively gnashing his teeth now as he started imagining all sorts of unorthodox "compensation" that Ranma was probably getting for his trouble.

"Unless there are any further comments or questions, I will now begin the debriefing."


A hologram flickered into view behind the magi-soldier, showing an image of eastern Asia with the Messiah represented by a bright, gleaming star.

"As many of you are aware, at 1800 hours yesterday, a junker skiff made enemy contact and had their communications cut off as they attempted to escape an extremely unfavorable encounter with an omega-class warbeast. Thanks to a brilliant ruse by Sergeant Garron, the crew and its escort escaped with only minor injuries. They were then able to transmit crucial data on the incoming enemy forces." The map display showed the crash site that the junker had been investigating, and then marked the attacking dragon with a stylized western dragon emblem.

The hologram flickered once more, and then the map changed to show small thumbnail images of each of the dragons that had attacked the Messiah.

"The entire force consisted of seventeen adult dragons; thirteen flyers, two flightless, and two subterraneans." There were a few impressed whistles before Shawn continued. "For those of you who are somehow not aware, this is a TREMENDOUS amount of force to deploy at once against a single target. Many would consider it overkill, even against a target as big and well-defended as the Messiah. To be sure, it was only with advanced deployment, firepower dispersion, and tactics that we were able to survive, never mind crush the attack completely."

One individual raised his hand. "Do we know what the enemy objective was? Why did they attack us?"

The colonel nodded. "We're currently unsure of the enemy's reasoning behind the assault, though it's not very difficult to guess; the IEF has been a constant thorn in the side of the local demon lords and nests, and there are a great many who would appreciate, and finance, our elimination. The real question is where all these dragons CAME from, and what kind of leader could force them into a coherent army. As some of you are aware, dragons are highly territorial, proud, and quarrelsome among their own kind. It's supposedly very difficult to manage a force that contains even a few dragons due to the constant power struggles and disputes over war spoils. What kind of power could command a force of that many dragons toward a single objective, never mind acquire such a force in the first place? We're researching the question, and our prisoner from the conflict is awaiting interrogation once we prepare a properly fortified chamber. Whoever ordered this attack on the IEF - assuming it wasn't one of the enemy dragons in the first place - is extremely dangerous if it is able to launch such a huge offensive without warning or any obvious reason. As unlikely as it is that the enemy has any significant resources remaining after such an assault, we cannot discount the possibility that it has assets matching or exceeding the force encountered yesterday in reserve."

"Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?" A lieutenant asked as she raised her hand. "A collection of more than thirty dragons would take a tremendous amount of food to maintain, to say nothing of their 'other needs'."

"Granted. However, feeding thirty isn't a terrible stretch beyond feeding seventeen, which are both less of a stretch than some demon lord with a grudge finding seventeen dragons all at once who are willing to band together and attack a treasureless floating battleship. Feeding a population of dragons would be a challenge, but is more than possible. Keeping them in order should be the impossible part... but it would seem that someone has overcome those difficulties."

The hologram changed once again to show an image of the Messiah, and several red circles rapidly approaching it.

"This is a bird-eye tactical map showing the combat progression in real time. We struck a decisive blow right away by eliminating the largest of the enemy units and dispersing their attack formation."

Several lights came from the sandship's position, representing the first volley, and the red circles immediately became disoriented, wobbling in the air and in one case running into each other. The biggest circle continued advancing, but then suddenly stopped. Several seconds later, it vanished.

"Here was the beginning of the dragons' attack run. Our shields absorbed catastrophic levels of energy, but thanks to the staggered timing of the enemies' attacks and their broken spearhead, the Messiah's shields remained functional at all times."

Several blue circles appeared on the edge of the hologram, and swiftly started moving toward the swirling combat around the hovercraft.

"At this point, our fighter/bombers engaged the enemy. Despite a difficult dogfight and considerable risk of friendly fire, our aircraft took the upper hand. You can see that the enemy was unable to sustain combat against a mobile foe combined with stationary fire bases and the sheer assortment of incoming weaponry inevitably overcame the dragons' various defenses. Thankfully, the enemy lost all remaining tactical coherency at this point; several dragons attempted to retreat, while others either forced their way onto the Messiah or continued attacking it desperately, ignoring our aircraft."

Suddenly the hologram zoomed in so that the sandship filled the entire image.

"This is where we had trouble. In general we do not consider boarding actions a feasible tactic due to our marine complement and firepower; however, the dragons boasted the mobility to reach the Messiah combined with the resilience to fend off our soldiers once they boarded. Luckily for us, most of them didn't think of this either; if we'd had the entire attack force under our shields instead of buzzing around outside where our fighters and guns could engage them, victory would have been unlikely at best. Our technicians are considering the possibility of utilizing 'hard shields' to prevent the enemy from slipping through, but this is an unlikely solution, and completely moot if the Messiah's shields fall before being boarded. The simple truth is that we lack truly effective defensive combat strength in such close quarters."

"Well, what are we supposed to do about that? Humans are no match for demons in melee. 'Specially not serpent kings." Muttered one captain.

"You'd think so, huh?" Mumbled a marine, thinking back to when he'd seen the pigtailed stranger clashing with the swamp dragon. He wasn't sure if the guy was really human or not, but he sure looked like it.

"There are three ways to address the problem that have been proposed by a brief discussion on the topic with Colonel Zarret: one is to develop a new mech design specifically for quick-deployment and close-quarters combat. Or we could copy the Americans' methods and attempt to purchase from them their autonomous close-combat droids. Finally, the Japanese Empire hires and trains demons as close-combat shock troops..."

The response to the last proposal ranged from raised eyebrows to disgusted grunts; the IEF, out of all the modern armies of the world, was by far the most insular, and though they occasionally made use of mercenaries and accepted that not all non-humans were enemies of mankind, many would have guessed otherwise after having dealt with its leadership. To be sure, hiring outsiders was frowned upon by Central Command in Jerusalem, and Karen Molsk's enlistment of demons was considered outrageous by most.

Shawn cleared his throat to cut off the discontented whispering. "All three are viable options, and though the first makes the best use of our current technologies and combat strategies, the third would be the most cost-effective and save a whole slew of engineering difficulties. Also, I'm sure some of you witnessed one of the mercenary units fighting on the main deck. Such force would be a valuable asset."

One marine snorted. "I saw that force getting smacked around like a rag doll half the time. If the magi-cannon hadn't nailed that snake, he would've been toast."

"He did kill it, though," another soldier mused. "And it WAS a dragon. That's gotta count for something."

"The kid with the pigtail killed a dragon, too. And he did it without bleeding all over the damn decks."

"Okay, that's enough," Colonel Nemo said firmly, holding up his arms. "There are a lot of arguments to be made from all sides on the issue, but it's a tactical angle we should consider. Most, if not all, of you are aware that Colonel Molsk keeps a bodyguard retinue that consists entirely of demons, and she has utilized them with great success. General Kitinski, do you have any thoughts on the matter?"

The room fell silent, and several members of the audience started looking around.

"General?" Shawn blinked in surprise as he searched around the room and realized that he couldn't find the silver-haired woman. He was a bit embarrassed by this fact, as June Kitinski stood out a great deal from her soldiers, but the simple fact was that he had automatically assumed she was there. June attended EVERY tactical meeting. Besides the fact that it was pretty much her job, she rarely had better things to do.

'Why wouldn't she be here? There was certainly no mistake in the time of meeting... she would have been given clear notification of the debriefing, and she didn't sustain any injuries... what could she be doing that's more important than analyzing the tactical aspects of a major battle?'

"-and I get knocked down, but I get up again, and they're never gonna keep me down! I get knocked down, but I get up again, and they're never gonna keep me down!"

As she dabbed some soap on a wash cloth, June began humming awkwardly over the steaming hiss of her shower head, having forgotten the next few lines to the song, but not wanting to skip right into another chorus.

"Hmmm-hmmm hmmm! Oh, I get knocked down, but I-GAAAH!"

The IEF general screamed and flinched back as the water's temperature dropped about forty degrees almost instantly, and quickly grabbed the cold water valve before shutting it.

"What in the hell..." she mumbled a curse in Hebrew as she inspected the handle to the valve, trying to figure out the cause of the sudden change in temperature.

A sliding noise behind her offered a possible answer, and her eyes narrowed as Kaze - completely naked, as one would expect of someone taking a shower - entered the stall.

"Was that you who just did that?" June asked heatedly, planting her hands on her hips.

"Yes, of course," Kaze mumbled, looking half-asleep as he gestured to the soap sitting on the sill under the shower head. It promptly lifted up off the platform and floated through the air into his hand.

June's eye twitched. "Well, why did you do that?"

The evon cleric took the soap out of the air once it was close and then yawned before responding. "Because your taste in music is sub-par, and your singing voice is flat-out terrible."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion OR your company, clown." June deadpanned.

"Healing, divinations, unsolicited criticism, and casual intercourse are but a few of the services I offer, all free of charge. No returns, offer is void on weekends. Sorry, no CODs," Kaze said lazily as he started scrubbing himself, clearly not intending to leave or stop annoying the sorceress.

June sighed as she let her arms drop, and turned again to fine-tune the water valves to an ideal temperature. "Are you STILL upset about me leaving you to fight that dragon?"

"Oh, no, I'm completely over that," Kaze said earnestly as he snapped his fingers, causing the shower head to move to a higher angle and spray water directly onto his chest. "This is simply my regular personality. You'll find it emerges from time to time when I'm not trying to have sex with you."

June checked the temperature and then reached up to change the angle of the shower head back to what it was before. "Of course. Every silver lining is attached to a dark cloud, after all," she said bluntly. "As long as you're here and you won't go away, make yourself useful and wash my hair."

Kaze frowned. "Don't wanna," he said simply, pointing to the shower head and causing it to change angles again.

June frowned back at him. Then she pointed her index finger at his foot.

Zap! "YOW!" The evon jumped as a spark of light seared his toes, and started hopping about in pain. "What was that about?!"

The silver-haired sorceress calmly re-adjusted the shower head as Kaze quickly healed the minor burn. "Don't act so surprised, you dope. I'm a military woman. Using force to get what I want is second nature to me." She turned around and glared at the evon. "So, for future reference, whenever we're both naked, you do what I say. Otherwise, you get shocked."

Kaze's eyes narrowed.

"OR, if you really piss me off," June continued, "I'll put my clothes back on."

"I'm not sure what's worse," Kaze mumbled as June's shampoo floated from the rack below the shower head and into his hand, "that you consider violence a less serious threat than celibacy, or that I agree with the sentiment."

"Yeah, we make a perfect couple," the general said dryly. "Now stop yapping and start scrubbing."

It was only a slightly different scenario that saw Ranma a mere six rooms down the hall, sitting upright in Karen's bed as the sound of the running shower permeated from the bathroom.

He was currently toying with the chains that Kaze had taken from one of the bandit leaders, and thinking about what the cleric had said about the juga using it.

Ranma had always had trouble using certain magic weapons and items due to his unique status as being magically inert, but considering that the juga were themselves a magically inept race, chances were good that this wasn't one of those items.

"Hyah!" He threw the bladed head of the weapon out, and then immediately tugged sharply on the chain, snapping the weapon back to his hand before he caught it firmly out of the air.

Crash! The pigtailed man winced as the ceiling lamp fell down, apparently having been severed from the ceiling on the return trip.

"Huh... flies pretty straight for a chain... which isn't necessarily a good thing." He dangled the weapon's head, which was a symmetrical collection of four inwardly-curved blades melded onto the end of the chain, giving it the look of a grappling claw.

With a little practice, the chain could become an effective weapon... or he could sell it and hopefully buy something else that was already an effective weapon; either way, at the rate K was devouring his gear, he needed to get something else besides the usual stock of knives and blades that he normally kept on his person. After the loss of his staff and a bit of his not-COMPLETELY-useless sword, he was starting to get worried. Good a knife-fighter as he was, Ranma did not want to face a dragon without a main weapon. Preferably a main weapon that was ultra-sharp, extremely durable, and didn't look like he'd fished it out of the river.

He glanced over at the pistol on the nightstand, next to his gauntlet and some other articles of clothing that Ranma had managed to remove before Karen had gotten impatient and finished the job.

Although the IEF would be only too happy to give him access to their armories, there was little he wanted from them except good ammunition; the IEF did not make effective melee weapons. There was no point to it. The average human soldier that got dragged into a melee died before they even drew their close-combat weapons, so giving them an extra-special knife or sword simply served to deliver that weapon to an enemy that would actually use it. Humans favored guns for a reason.

"What're you thinking about?" Came Karen's voice from behind. "How to fix my lamp, hopefully?"

Ranma chuckled nervously as he turned his head. "Heh heh... uh... sorry about that. Dunno what went wrong there."

Karen sauntered over to him, nothing but a towel around her waist covering any part of her. "Don't give me that, you shouldn't be playing with weapons in my room," she chastised him, climbing onto the bed and poking Ranma in the nose.

"Well, whenever I try to leave to go train, you drag me back in here," Ranma said bluntly as he fell backward onto the pillow.

Karen smirked and tossed the towel aside, sidling up next to her lover. "Oh, hush. This is going to be the last time I see you for quite some time, and I want to enjoy it. You can play with your silly knives any time."

Ranma wrapped his arms around the sorceress as she cuddled against his side, enjoying the soft warmth of her body pressed against his own.

"...... I wonder who'd win in a fight, you or Kaze?"

Karen sweatdropped. "You really know how to kill the mood, you know that?"

"If I didn't, then I'd just end up having sex all the time, and I'd never get anything done," Ranma said playfully, kissing her on the forehead.

"Right. You have it so rough," Karen deadpanned. "Anyway, I've never seen him fight, so I couldn't say... though traditionally, clerics don't measure up to sorcerers. Especially sorcerers with guns and extensive combat training."

"Right, right..." Ranma mumbled, rubbing his chin. "What about Rayden? Do you think you can take Rayden?"

Karen rolled her eyes. "That's enough out of you," she said, pushing herself up and then straddling him before grinning widely. "I have two hours before the next strategy meeting... why don't you keep me 'entertained' until then, hm?"

With a small smile, Ranma reached up and then brushed a lock of her still-damp hair away from her face.

Krsht! Colonel Molsk, this is Captain Gretzky. I'm just contacting you to let you know that General Kitinski has requested a meeting with you immediately to have a strategic discussion before the general meeting.

Ranma sweatdropped as a swath of blue energy floated around Karen's forearm, which was pointed directly at the wall-mounted speaker above her nightstand. "Hey, hey, now... take it easy. This IS your job." He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly as the young woman scowled.

"Damn it..." Karen mumbled as she let the energies dissipate, letting heat swiftly seep back into her fingers. Then she looked thoughtful and looked back down at the lithe, muscular body pinned under her legs. "You know, maybe I'm still in the shower after all."

Ranma blinked. "Huh? No you're not."

The voluptuous soldier smiled broadly before she leaned down and kissed Ranma hungrily, her arms wrapping around his neck as their lips met.

After a good ten seconds, she broke the kiss, leaving Ranma gasping for air briefly.

"Oh... so THAT'S what you meant."

Karen was just starting to re-position herself on top of her lover when the speaker crackled to life again, causing another surge of frustration.

Uh... this is Gretzky again... The voice sounded rather nervous this time, which Ranma wouldn't have found surprising at all if the man speaking could have actually seen the death gaze Karen was currently trying to give him through the speaker. General Kitiniski says that she knows you're in there, so get dressed and get moving.

There was a moment of near-silence as some muted noises came from the speaker, as if the captain was whispering with someone next to him. Also, the general wanted me to tell Ranma Saotome that his lackeys are building up a bar tab that he needs to pay off... er, if he's there, I mean! Which I'm certainly not insinuating he is!

Ranma sighed as Karen stalked off to her closet, already sulking. "Well, if you're gonna be busy, I'd better go beat up Ray until he pays his bill."

"Hmph. Must be nice not having to answer to anyone else," Karen mumbled as she slipped her panties on.

"Not really. I'd love to be able to pass the buck every once and while with these guys," Ranma said as he pulled up his pants. "Being in charge of Rayden and K is kind of like being a babysitter, except no one pays me."

"Huh... what about the other one?"

Ranma stopped to think about that briefly as he fastened his belt. "Kaze... seems alright. Most of the time. He seems a lot smarter and more mature, and that's really the important thing. I don't feel like I need to watch him all the time, or he's going to do something stupid."

"Why, Kaze? Why do you do this to me?" Ranma mumbled as the evon sweatdropped.

Kaze was currently squatting on the top deck on top of a colored blanket with several weapons, items, and a few of Rayden's mysterious tand coins spread out in front of him.

"Why, Master Saotome, I have no idea what you mean," the priest said with a perfectly straight face. "I'm merely trying to sell our excess inventory for traveling funds. This is a normal activity for adventurers, is it not?"

Ranma looked down at the signs posted in front of each item. "'Magical luck charms'? Those are Ray's worthless evil cult coins."

"FIRST of all, they have some innate value from the metals and stones they're made from," Kaze pointed out. "And SECOND of all... so what? Evil cult coins can be good luck charms. Everything on that sign is completely, absolutely, subjectively true."

Ranma looked over at the sign again. "So... did you magically enchant them with luck, or something?"

"Enchant them with 'luck'? Of course not. That's stupid. I magically made them shinier."

Ranma crossed his arms over his chest. "All right, you louse. Pack it up. Come on. Move it!"

"What? Why?" Kaze complained before Ranma grabbed him by the sleeve and hauled him to his feet. "Hey!"

"I'm not going to start berating you for doing this when you're a priest of justice or whatever," Ranma began as he shoved the evon to the side and started collecting the items, "because I don't know anything about your dumb religion, and you're the freaking avatar or whatever. So that's between you and your god. But we're the good guys, all right?"

"I was operating under that assumption, yes," Kaze mumbled sadly as Ranma wrapped up the blanket he was sitting on.

"And good guys don't cheat people out of their money by selling snake oil. Got it?"

"...... What? What do snakes have to do with this?" The evon asked, scratching his head.

"It's just an expression! Now give me the money you made!" The pigtailed man demanded.

Kaze recoiled. "What? Oh, come on now! You're going to give it back?"

"Not really. I'm going to use it to pay for all the alcohol you and Rayden bought," Ranma said firmly. "Besides, most of the stuff you're selling isn't even yours! If you want personal cash, you're going to have to work for it."

"I DID work for it!" Kaze protested. "Do you know how hard it is to trick a ship of Jewish soldiers out of their money? Most of them wouldn't even pay full price!"

"You're not helping your case any," Ranma said as he grabbed Kaze by the front of his robes. "Now look here; I let you tag along with me on the assumption that you were going to make these journeys easier, not more frustrating. I have enough problems with Ray being a demon knight."

Kaze pouted as he handed over a stack of American dollars and a sack of coins. "What problem do you have with Shikodan?"

"Besides him getting in fights all the time that he can't win? Nothing, actually," Ranma admitted as he took the cash and started flipping through it. "Sometimes people get nervous around him 'cause he's a demon and his sword drinks the blood of the fallen, but that's not really a big deal, since he looks pretty human."

"That's fascinating, really. Tell me more about that," Kaze mumbled as he started to sneak away while Ranma was counting the money.

Swsh! "Gwah!" The evon priest shouted in surprise as a length of chain suddenly wrapped around his arm and pulled him back. Looking behind him, he saw that the other end of the chain was wrapped around the gauntlet on Ranma's hand.

"Oh, no you don't. You're coming with me," Ranma deadpanned as he held the chain taut. "Since apparently I can't trust you to be on your own, you can help me find Ray, and then we'll all wait until Karen finishes giving her pitch to carry us to Greken's territory."

Kaze frowned deeply. "You know, this chain is mine. I made that kill. I was going to sell it. LEGITIMATELY."

"Oh, shut up," Ranma mumbled. Then he raised an eyebrow. "Though... since we're on the topic of your items... where's your staff, anyway?"

The cleric blinked. "Staff?"

"Yeah. The staff. The one that carries the super-important ancient artifact of ultimate power, or whatever. The symbol of your station as avatar?"

Kaze looked left, and then turned to the right, scanning across the ground. "Huh. I don't know."

A massive sweatdrop rolled down Ranma's head. "You don't know? You lost it?"

"Oh... uh... no..." Kaze scratched his head slowly. "I didn't... I mean, I think I left it in the general's quarters."

"What? You mean with June?" the pigtailed wanderer asked, alarmed. "What were you doing in her room?"

"Things that are not fit for public conversation," the evon said shamelessly.

Ranma spent a moment gaping, and then forced himself to accept Kaze's conduct so that he could move onto the more important issue. "So, this artifact, that's one of the most powerful items in your church, that separates you from all the other priests and gives you your station, that you wouldn't give up even to save yourself from a damn dragon... you just leave it behind on the floor of your girlfriend's bedroom?"

"Well... no, she's not really my girlfried," the cleric asserted. "More like an 'acquaintance with benefits' or something."

Ranma spent a moment rubbing his forehead as Kaze shrugged weakly. 'You know, in some ways, Kaze's worse than Rayden... Ray never just leaves his deadly arcane weapons lying around or tricks people. Why did I let these losers follow me?'

"Okay Koz, we'll look for your staff later. Let's find Rayden first. I get nervous about what he might be up to when I'm not around," Ranma mumbled as he snapped his wrist forward, causing the chain around Kaze to spontaneously unwind from his arm and coil back around Ranma's.

Kaze frowned as his eyes narrowed at the chain. 'Curses. Robbed of my ill-gotten gains and my slightly-more-legitimately-gotten spoils. Saotome is proving to be as formidible an obstacle as Bishop Saima... if not a much more reasonable one.' Not once did it occur to him that he had only decided to follow Ranma to learn from him in the first place.

"So where are we going to find our smash-happy, malevolent companion?" the cleric asked as he rubbed his arm.

"Well, since I warned him specifically NOT to fight anyone on the ship, that would mean he only has two things to keep him occupied all day and night: drinking and complaining about not fighting," Ranma said as he started walking toward the main entrance into the lower decks.

"Hmmm..." Kaze started to rub his chin as he considered this. "Is that truly all he does, day in and day out? The man is a member of an elite order of demonic templars, beholden to the ancient of murder and warfare, and is active a full twenty-four hours. Doesn't he have martial and religious practices that he must attend to regularly?"

"I dunno," Ranma mumbled. "If he does, I'm glad he does it when I'm not around. I don't need to be putting up with that sort of thing."

"Oh, come on now," Kaze pressed, speeding up to walk alongside his teacher. "You mean you're not even curious about his past or the mysteries of his power?"

"Koz, the guy's a behemoth who won't die when stabbed through the heart and carries around a sword that drinks blood. That's enough for me," Ranma asserted, looking uneasy. "I'm afraid that if I ask him too many questions, I'll learn something about him I'm just better off not knowing. For now all that's important is that he does what I say without asking questions."

"Ah. So what doubt he creates with his black origins, he makes up for in blind obedience and baseless loyalty?" the evon asked dryly.

"Whatever keeps him from killing us good guys." Ranma said as they walked down the hall, passing by the kitchens.


"What do you mean you don't have any pork products on board?!"

Ranma and Kaze froze as they heard Rayden shouting, and Ranma's face darkened. He promptly turned and opened the door.

"Look sir," said one of the chefs as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared up at the demon knight, "we'll allow you use of the kitchen as long as you don't cause trouble, but don't give us a hard time about this, all right?"

"No, I'm serious!" Rayden growled. "No pork? Everybody carries pork! What kind of army is this?"

"I'm not going to answer that question," the smaller man said dryly. "Look, no matter how much you whine about it, pig meat is not going to spontaneously appear in storage, so I suggest you simply choose something else and get to work."

Rayden glared in silence for several seconds. "FINE. Do you have any ham?"

"Of course not, you idiot!" the chef snapped.

"Damn... How about bacon?"

The chef was silent for several seconds. "If we DID... then you'd have to swear never to speak of it to anyone else on this ship."

"Yes. Sure. Anything to get some real meat around here," Rayden mumbled.

As the cook turned and entered the back, the demon knight felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and he turned around. "Eh? Ranma?"

"Yeah. Hi," Ranma said uncertainly. "I expected to find you drinking or brooding. What are you doing here?"

"Cooking," Rayden said simply. "Sometimes I do that between stints of drinking and brooding."

"Cooking for who?" Kaze asked curiously.

"Well, apparently Colonel Molsk was impressed by the food last night and the fact that it didn't kill her," the Dread Knight explained. "So she asked me to make something good for the strategic meeting when we passed each other in the hall a while ago."

"Oh. So what are you making her?" Ranma asked.

"Nothing. I told her to get bent. Then one of the marines asked if I could make some snacks for the next poker game I play with them, so here I am."

Ranma sighed. "Of course. Well, as long as you're mostly staying out of trouble, then I guess I should be glad."

"Eh? Why's that?" Rayden asked. Then he frowned as he noticed Kaze. "Dude, where'd your staff go?"

Kaze flinched and then chuckled nervously. "It's... ah... it's around."

The demon knight's eyes narrowed. "Around? Shouldn't you be a little more careful with your ancient artifacts? These things are dangerous!"

Kaze blinked, and then his own eyes narrowed. "And you're one to lecture me? How about you?"

"Eh? What about me?" The dark paladin asked, glancing over his shoulder at Darkrune's handle. "I still have my sword."

"And what about our little metallic friend?" Kaze asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What about K?" Rayden protested. "Since when am I his babysitter?"

"Since I told you to be after they finished stitching up the gaping holes in your torso," Ranma deadpanned.

Rayden was silent for a few seconds. "Oh. Right. Oops."

Kaze sighed and walked up to the taller man, taking the bandage that was wrapped around his face. "Never mind that. Your eye hasn't regenerated yet?"

"Nah. Eyes usually take a while. I guess they're sensitive or something," Rayden mumbled, rubbing the mass of scar tissue that used to be his eyelids as Ranma grimaced.

"Of course. Hold still." Kaze pressed his palm over Rayden's face, and a soft blue light emanated from his hand.

Ranma watched carefully as the damaged skin he could make out under Kaze's hand slowly seemed to darken and smooth itself out into fresh, healthy skin.

After about thirty seconds, Kaze pulled his hand away, and Rayden blinked repeatedly, his eyes and the rest of his face completely healed.

"So... wait... why didn't you just do that yesterday, when he was almost dead?" Ranma asked.

"Because I was nearly exhausted from doing battle with a mighty dragon," Kaze explained.

"Then why didn't you heal me this morning, when I was still in really bad shape?" Rayden asked.

"Because I was nearly exhausted from making sweet love to General Kitinski," Kaze explained, running a hand through his long, snow-white hair.

Thunk! "Ow!" The evon grasped his head where Ranma had smacked him with his sheathed sword.

"All right you two, listen up: you're going to have to learn to put your teammates before your own petty pleasures, all right? This has to stop." The pigtailed man said sternly.

"Huh? What did I do wrong?" Rayden asked. "I nearly got ripped apart by a venom dragon to help you out."

"I know. And it just makes this whole mess worse and more confusing, because you're supposed to be the evil one here." Ranma crossed his arms over his chest. "Now come on. We have to find out what they're going to do with us. If they for some reason decide not to alter course and leave whatever important campaign they're in the middle of to transport four people - or really one person, a talking lizard, and two circus freaks - into dangerous enemy territory, then we're going to need a plan to get there on our own."

"Can't we just walk there? We were doing that before."

"Yeah, and look how far that got us before we got sidetracked," Ranma mumbled, rubbing his chin. "We never really had a plan for finding Greken in the first place. Really, I was pretty much counting on there being a whole bunch of dragons making a big ruckus so that it'd be obvious where they were coming from, but considering that we just got a whole bunch of them butchered, that might not work anymore."

"Good point," Kaze said, massaging his forehead. "Hmmmm... they captured a dragon, right? What about him?"

"What ABOUT him?" Ranma asked. "It'll probably take months to get anything out of him through interrogation."

"Why? Because dragons are so resilient?" Kaze asked.

Rayden snorted. "No, it's 'cause humans suck at torture."

"ACTUALLY, it's because we try not to abuse our prisoners of war," Ranma said sharply.

"Yeah. Lemme tell you, that makes torture pretty hard," the Dread Knight said, nodding. "Gimme ten minutes with him, and I'll have him talking."

Both Ranma and Kaze looked doubtful at this.

"You... DO know that the point of interrogation is to NOT kill the subject, right?" Kaze asked uneasily.

"Of course I do," Rayden snapped. "Look, just get me into the guy's cell without any guards around to notice the screams of agony and I'll get the info we need."

Ranma rubbed his chin. "Wellllll... it does seem kind of immoral to do this. And it's ALSO kind of questionable to go under the IEF's nose to do it, since the lizard is technically their prisoner. Never mind that bad things ALWAYS tend to happen whenever we let you do anything on your own, Ray." Then he shrugged. "On the other hand, we don't really have anything else to do while we wait for Karen to finish up her meeting, so sure, let's do it."

Kaze sweatdropped. "We don't? What about finding K? Or finding my staff? Or if we don't want to leave, we could always have lunch; I'm rather hun-" He suddenly blinked as he realized he was talking to himself, and then whirled around just as Ranma and Rayden walked out into the hall. "Hey! Wait! Don't leave me behind! I'm coming too!"

June sighed as she nursed the mug of coffee in her hands, frowning at the temperature. "Mmm... Colonel Molsk? A little help here?"

Karen reluctantly tapped her finger against the wall of the mug, and there was a brief fizzling noise as ice crystals spontaneously formed in the steaming liquid, only to instantly melt away.

"Ah. Thank you. Much better." Smiling softly, June took a sip of her coffee, then picked up a small folded piece of paper sitting next to her. "So you really think the dragons attacked just for Saotome, do you? Why?"

"I can't really say," Karen hedged. "It just seems like a convenient coincidence, don't you think? Ranma appears, apparently being hunted by dragons, and as soon as we take him on, a full flight of the blasted lizards attack us. It's not conclusive, but it's all I've got."

"This theory is problematic," June said dryly before taking another gulp of coffee. "For one thing, as soon as we propose it, they'll try to throw your little friends off the ship." She idly ran a hand through her hair as she opened the paper and glanced over it. "But realistically, I don't see a reason to tell our men that at all. Frankly, it doesn't make much sense. That dragon flight came prepared to fight an army, not an adventuring band. It's safe to say that whatever prompted the attack, their goal was the eradication of the Messiah." She looked up the colonel. "For that matter, if the dragon's goal was to eliminate Saotome, why attack him now, when he's under our protection? They could have waited until he departed the sandship, or sent warning that they would have attacked to force us to abandon him."

"These creatures aren't known for their subtlety," Karen remarked as she flipped through a combat report. "And any nearby demon lords could only benefit from the destruction of the Messiah."

"Precisely. So I think it's safe to say that our little Japanese friend didn't provoke this attack at all, isn't it?" June asked, raising an eyebrow.

Karen looked surprised, but quickly nodded. "R-Right! Uh..." She hesitated for a moment, but worked up the nerve to ask her next question. "General... I would have thought that you'd welcome the chance to get Saotome off this ship. Why would you be willing to overlook the possibility that his presence is endangering the IEF?"

"A few reasons," June mused as she took another sip of coffee. "For one thing, although I find Saotome's presence annoying personally, I respect him as a fighter and an individual, and would never intentionally seek to cause him harm. Second of all, as long as he's on the Messiah, he's under the IEF's jurisdiction and control, to a point. No matter how much I dislike him, I can't deny that he's always been a tremendously useful asset in combat. And finally, protecting Saotome from the attentions of scores of malevolent monsters falls squarely within the objectives of the IEF in the first place. Our mission is to protect humanity from the scourge of demons and magical beasts that threaten it, which naturally places our own lives and assets at risk; those men that died yesterday died doing their duty, for the protection of Israel and all mankind. Regardless of what those filthy reptiles really wanted. To that end, it would serve no purpose to tell my men that the dragons may have attacked because they were hunting Saotome. It would change nothing except our morale and convictions."

"O-Of course. I see," Karen said, impressed and quite relieved. "Then shall we discuss the location of this Greken character?"

"Of course," June mumbled, finishing her coffee and putting it aside. "What does our satellite surveillance tell us?"

"Very little, I'm afraid," Karen mumbled as she opened another folder. "Mongolia has had extremely unstable weather for years, and although we've confirmed that the dragon flight originated from that region, a number of storms kept us from pinpointing their nests or home territory."

She frowned as she looked over some of the photos she placed on the table, which were mostly dark blots with a few small holes representing the regions of clear sky. "From looking at recordings taken over several weeks, we can catch glimpses of enough land to find indications of mid-tech agricultural infrastructure and small settlements."

June nodded. "Of course. And any settlement in an area as desolate and hostile as this means that an army can't be far away keeping the peace. And where there's an army, there's usually a big, ugly freak bossing it around."

"What's strange about the photos is despite the turbulent weather, there are several zones which are apparently obscured twenty-four-seven. The memory banks can only backtrack for a week, but..."

June frowned. "But any storm that covers a single point for a whole week probably isn't natural in the first place. Which means this dragon tamer has some inkling of what he's doing if he's taken measures to protect against technology-based surveillance."

Karen sighed as she leaned over the photos. "Like everything else this guy apparently does, it's crude and blunt, but ultimately effective. Without more information, an airborne surveillance mission would be extremely dangerous, and scouting the territory on the ground would take at least a week after we reach the target area, assuming we don't face any more major assaults."

"I see. The ball is in our court, then," the IEF general mumbled. "Very well. We still have some time before the meeting. Let me tell you a story."

Karen blinked. "General?"

June smirked at the younger woman. "War forces us to grow up quickly, does it not? Look at you. Colonel at age 19. That's nothing short of ridiculous. You should be attending university and going to wild parties, living it up and enjoying life to fullest before starting your career. Instead you roam about the most desolate wastelands on the planets, constantly fighting for your life. You've slaughtered hundreds of creatures and entombed entire nests of non-humans in solid ice."

Karen winced. She wasn't really used to thinking of her career that way. "I wouldn't have it any other way. Israel needs me so that our children won't have to spend their lives fighting."

"Yes, yes, of course. But not everyone feels the same way," June said, still smirking. "Saotome certainly doesn't, does he? He's spent his entire life fighting and killing, and for what?"

Karen blinked. "What? Well, for the defense of-"

"Don't start," the general interrupted. "He's never fought for the defense of anything. He thinks nothing of peace, war, or the struggle of humanity. He knows personal hardship better than any of us, but Ranma doesn't think abstractly. He's not what you'd call a 'big-picture' kind of guy. He fights to protect himself. He fights to protect his friends and loved ones. He fights because it seems like a good idea at the time. It's all he does, all he is. He knows no other life. If you asked him what peace was, he'd probably refer to the brief periods between battles. Ranma Saotome is a creature of war."

Karen frowned at this, but said nothing.

"With that in mind, it's no surprise he was talked into being a test subject for Project Magi," June went on. "The dangers must have meant nothing to someone who lives as he does. If he even understood what the dangers were."

"You called the experiment a failure? What happened?"

The silver-haired woman sighed. "Somehow, the experiment resulted in a complete, permanent mana drain in his body."

Karen blinked. Twice. "Wait, what? What does that mean?"

"It means that Ranma Saotome's body, or soul, or whatever supposedly generates the magical power that you and I take for granted does not do so. Not only is Ranma incapable of using magic, but his body is abnormally devoid of mana."

"Wait... how is that possible? Can the human body survive without mana?"

June shrugged. "Nope."

Karen sweatdropped in response. "Oh... that's very strange, then."

"More than just strange. The absence of mana is a scientific aberration. It shouldn't be possible outside of a laboratory for any area other than hard vacuum. Medical experiments conducted after the fact have proven that a complete mana drain should be 100% percent fatal... yet, as you're quite aware, Saotome is alive and kicking. And the mana void around him is still there as well."

"What... What does that mean?" Karen asked softly.

"Well, putting aside the fact that he should be dead, I'm sure he has some trouble using magical items and machines. But aside from that, many magics apparently operate under the presumption that all living things - not to mention all non-living things - are irradiated with magical energies. So Saotome's probably immune or resistant to several magical effects, while other spells would have difficulty tracking him, or would function as if he wasn't there. We'd need to conduct tests on Ranma himself to find out more, and as you've probably guessed, he wasn't exactly keen on more experiments."

"Why did our scientists use a human test subject if it wasn't safe?" Karen asked heatedly. "How could they not have noticed a flaw like that?"

June shrugged. "They didn't really have an excuse... Saotome is a mercenary. To the IEF his life is nothing more than a unit number and an expense report. He's quite expendable."

The younger woman growled in irritation, but didn't protest the comment.

"I've made sure to check him discreetly every time I've seen him since he boarded the sandship. I can't imagine that you've tried using magesight on him, but if you had you would have noticed that he's apparently invisible to it," June said. "An interesting little tidbit, don't you think?"

"More than just interesting..." Karen mumbled, chewing her lower lip. "Why wasn't I told about this?"

The older woman snorted. "Who are YOU to be kept up-to-date on the horrific failures of various military experiments?"

Karen twitched. "Well, it has more to do with my... uhm..." she coughed into her fist briefly, flushing, "my 'relationship' with Ranma than my status. I specifically requested to be kept updated about that operation!"

"Apparently. I didn't know you two knew each other, so I can't really say, but I imagine that the scientists didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. Or necessarily, for that matter," the general deadpanned. "I'm sure they were incredibly relieved that Saotome somehow survived, so they probably just told you that the project failed, but he was fine. Technically true. Mostly." Then she shrugged. "You didn't have the rank to warrant more details than that."

The sandy-haired woman frowned, her brow creasing. "You called him... a creature of war? Do you really think that?"

"Of course. The boy was an utterly lethal assassin at age fourteen, for Moses' sake. He slits throats like it's a common chore, and can sleep in the middle of a full-scale engagement. And when he isn't fighting or resting from fighting, he's training to fight. He literally doesn't know what to with himself outside of battle."

Karen winced at that statement, and clutched one hand to her chest as she thought about her superior's words. "I... I think you're right... it's kind of sad, you know?" She looked up at the older woman, obviously distressed. "He's never known anything but conflict. He's never had the opportunity to live a normal life. I don't even think he knows what that means. He grew up without a family, without a home... we all left our homes and what's left of our families to live a life like his for our profession... and it's horrible... no one should have to live like this for their entire lives. No one deserves this much suffering and hatred."

"Do you intend to change that?" June asked, raising an eyebrow.

Karen started, her face flushing again. "What?"

"Are you going to give him a 'normal life'?" June clarified. "Give him a wife to look after and spend those cold, lonely nights with? Give him a place he can come home to at the end of the day? A job where his life is never in danger, a future without so much blood? Hmm?"

The sandy-haired woman winced again, her head slumping. "I'd love to... but... Ranma could never live like that, could he? Hmph. Sometimes I wonder if I could still live like that."

"These conflicts have left us all scarred," June spat. "I fear the world we once knew is entirely beyond recovery."

The general sighed. "But enough about our personal pursuits. We have more important concerns. The other officers should be arriving in minutes, and we should have a complete plan of action ready to propose to them."

"Yes, General..."

"Hey, check it out..."

One of the two guards stationed outside of the high-security holding cell gestured down the hall, and his companion turned lazily to see what he was looking at.

"It's those mercs. Whaddya think they want?" The other man asked, tapping his fingers against his rifle as the three men approached them.

"They probably want to talk to the freak inside. Let me handle this," the first man insisted, stepping into the middle of the hall and holding his gun at an angle.

Once the wanderers got within two meters and showed no signs of stopping, he spoke. "Can I help you gentlemen with anything? This is a restricted area."

At some unspoken signal, Kaze stepped forward ahead of Ranma and Rayden. "Yes, I believe you can. We would like to have some alone time with our scaly friend in this cell, here."

"Uh huh," the guard deadpanned. "You DO realize that allowing you to do this would violate our current directive to keep our prisoner safely isolated, right?"

Kaze smirked. "No it wouldn't," he said flatly, waving his hand briefly.

The guard blinked. "Wait... what? Yes it would."

"No, it wouldn't," Kaze insisted, waving his hand again.

The guard looked dizzy for a moment, and then shook his head. "I can't let you in here without orders from someone of the appropriate rank."

Kaze waved his hand once more. "You don't need any ord-"

"Look, would you cut that out? You're giving me a migraine, here!" The Israeli complained, clutching the side of his head.

The evon sweatdropped, and then whirled around. "Ah... it would seem we've hit a bit of a snag," he mumbled to Ranma.

Rayden snorted and immediately stepped forward. "Step back and let me show you how it's done," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Ray," Ranma said warningly, his eyes narrowing.

Rayden flashed the smaller man a reassuring smile, and then turned the same smile toward the guard.

"Hey, I remember you! Sergoi, right?"

The guard nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

"You know him?" The other guard asked, nudging his partner in the shoulder.

"Poker game last night," Sergoi explained. "This guy nearly took my pants in hold 'em."

"Yeah, good times," Rayden interrupted brashly. "So I was wondering if you could do us a favor and let us in there for a minute."

"Again, the answer is no," Sergoi said firmly. "What if you put the ship in danger? I don't know what you're going to do with him in there."

"I'm going to beat him into a rotten, bloody pulp," the demon knight explained, grinning as he pounded a fist into his palm.

Sergoi blinked. "Oh. Is that all?" He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "It's still a violation of orders though, so..."

"What if I give you back the money I won last night?" Rayden asked, sticking his hand in his pocket and withdrawing a stack of bills.

Almost immediately, the guard snatched away the money, backing away to the other side of the hall. "I can't answer your question, as I'm fairly sure there's no one around trying to get access to the prisoner, and I'm a little busy counting this money I found on the floor." He promptly entered a keycode into the console opposite the cell door, and there was a beeping noise as several interior security devices were deactivated.

Ranma and Kaze sweatdropped as the other guard looked alarmed.

"Hey! Sergoi! You can't be serious! We can't just-" The man blinked as his companion stuffed several American twenty-dollar bills in his breast pocket. "We can't just stand here talking to the walls as if someone else was here! Tell me again about your trip to the Congo."


"I'm not sure if I should be impressed by what I just saw." Ranma asked as the Dread Knight turned around and gave his companions a thumbs-up.

"You shouldn't," Kaze confided. "Bribing soldiers is an old, tried-and-true diplomatic technique. It's practically guaranteed to work."

"Why didn't you try it?" Ranma asked as Rayden opened the door to the cell and stepped inside.

"Because I'm cheap," the evon insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Psychic energy is free. Find me a spell to magically counterfeit Earth currencies, and then we'll see about using my precious traveling funds for the sake of getting critical information."

"I don't mean to interrupt," Sergoi said suddenly from across the hall, "especially as you're not actually here in the hallway, waiting for your friend to torture the dragon, but... you have to be the worst priest I've ever met."

"No I'm not," Kaze countered, waving his hand about.

"I told you to cut that out!"

Rayden calmly pushed the door closed behind him as he stepped into the containment area, his eyes scanning the cell interior.

The area was filled with numerous energy projectors, probably used to emit energy fields and magic-nullifying waves that had been turned off. As Rayden wasn't particularly adept at technology, he couldn't really guess as to the particulars, and didn't really care so long as they were safely deactivated and out of his way.

The innermost area of the relatively small cell was a cylindrical area with heavy adamantite chains mounted on the ceiling, floor, and walls. On the other end of the chains, sitting in a simple wooden chair in the middle of the cell and staring distastefully at his visitor, was the storm dragon in human guise.

The creature was unfrozen, but Rayden doubted he had been like that for long; the air of the cell held a sharp, prickling chill, and a few stray chunks of ice still littered the metal floor within glistening puddles of water.

"Hmph. They send the demon," the storm dragon mumbled as he turned his head away. "Stupid humans..."

Rayden smiled unpleasantly as he approached, flexing his fingers and feeling the rough leather protecting them. "Yeah. They sent the demon. Let's make this quick, scaly; I haven't killed anything all day, and the faster we get this meeting over with, the faster I can get to wherever you came from and kill everything you've ever loved."

The dragon laughed, which sounded something like sandpaper applied roughly to a steel pipe. "Your arrogance is quite remarkable for low-borne filth."

"Says the guy laughing at the dark swordsman while he's bound, unarmed, and disabled," Rayden deadpanned. "Anyhoo, I'm sure you know what I want to know, so let's get started. You got a name, or is 'Scaly' good?"

"My name is Jihnaal'm, second prince of-"

"Your name is stupid, so I'm gonna call you Jim," Rayden said, stepping up to the bound dragon and planting a foot on his leg. "So Jim, where's your nest?"

The newly-dubbed Jim snarled, his voice trailing off into a low growl. "My nest is in the western region of the land you call Mongolia, within the great chasm known as Olahan's Maw. It was named after the demon general who was slain there in the final campaign to crush the last remnants of the humans in this section of the wastes. I'm sure your maps make note of it."

Rayden blinked. "Wait... what?"

"All around the chasm you'll find human settlements. Mostly farms, towns, and nesting lairs for grends. Guarding these lands are three great fortresses garrisoned with Master Greken's army."

Rayden took his foot off the dragon's leg, looking absolutely perplexed.

"The largest fortress, built into the side of an artificial volcano and home to most of the fire and magma dragon nests, is where Master Greken resides. And though his normal army is spread throughout the land and his various campaigns, his dragon army flies by his command alone." The dragon smirked. "To reach this fortre-gurk!"

Jim stopped speaking as Rayden suddenly grabbed the top of his head, and then pulled him - as well as the chains wrapped around him - into the air so that they were eye-to-eye.

"What the hell? Why are you spilling your guts so easily?" Rayden growled. "You'd better not be lying, Jim!"

"Lying? Pft!" The storm dragon took a moment to spit on the demon knight's coat, and then continued, mildly disappointed that Rayden didn't seem at all upset about the minor gesture of defiance. "You fool! I have no reason to lie! Now that we have failed in our task to destroy you, what better way to see to your destruction than to lead you straight to your doom? What you faced yesterday was but a fraction of Master Greken's full might! Go! Throw yourselves to your executioner!"

Rayden stared at him a few moments longer. "... Well, whatever. I was all worked up to beat the fire breath out of you, and there's no way I'm holding back just because you gave up all the information I wanted."

"I'm a storm dragon, you imbecile! I don't have fi-" Whump! "Saah! Cough!" WHAM! Crack!

"I'm rather surprised he gave up the information so easily," Kaze muttered as the trio once again walked down the hall. "Though I imagine you gave him quite a beating, it's no mean feat to break a serpent king. And without any proper torture equipment, yet!"

"Yeah, sure. I was real persuasive-like," the demon knight mumbled, looking distinctly unsatisfied and bearing a scorch mark over his chest where the draconic prisoner had tried to fight back.

"Did you use any magic? I'll bet your school of magic has a variety of spells for intimidation, doesn't it?"

"Not really, no," Rayden deadpanned.

"Well, the important thing is that we got the info and we're pretty sure it's accurate," Ranma interrupted. Not that he really trusted Rayden to be able to tell if he was being lied to; but really any starting point for their search was better than tromping around in a vaguely defined stretch of wasteland waiting to get attacked by dragons.

Kaze nodded. "Indeed. What is our plan, then?"

"Well, first we should tell Karen about this and see if the IEF is interested in carrying us a little farther."

"Would it not be best to convince them to launch an attack?" Kaze asked. "With their resources and technology combined with our own skills, they should be able to topple Greken's defenses while we finish him off personally."

"Not happening," Ranma said, shaking his head. Seeing Kaze's perplexed look, he sighed and rubbed at the gem set in the gauntlet on his hand. "Look, these dragons aren't just random wandering monsters or bandit raiders; they're hunting me and this... thing. I'm not sure why, and I'm not planning on giving it up to them, but I can't drag the IEF into this fight. Too many people have already been killed just because they took me in for a day. I'm not gonna ask them to fight any more of my battles for me."

"We don't need them anyway," Rayden said flippantly. "You got us, remember?"

"Yeah, sure," Ranma deadpanned, "and if you guys get killed because dragons are hunting me, it's your own damn fault for tagging along. My conscience is clear."

Kaze sweatdropped as Rayden nodded happily. "So, going back to my original question, what exactly is the plan, if we're facing a demon lord on our own?"

"We don't really have one," Ranma admitted, stopping as the group reached an intersection and looking both ways, trying to decide where to go. "I mean, we should obviously lay low and try to sneak into his territory without attracting the attention of anything big enough to destroy a city-"

"Boooooooriiiiiiiing," Rayden sang, only to be ignored.

"-but beyond that, I don't know. I'll come up with something once we're there," Ranma finished, shrugging.

The evon winced. "I was really hoping for something more... comprehensive than that. A brilliant strategy to cripple his defenses, perhaps, or a secret sword technique for slaying dragons in a single blow."

"I have a secret sword technique for slaying dragons in a single blow!" Rayden volunteered.

"Yeah, but it sucks," Ranma mumbled. "Look Koz, you wanted to tag along to learn about adventuring, right? Here's something to remember: plans are great, but it's a lot more important to stay flexible and learn to improvise. No matter how clever your strategy, it can all come apart if something unexpected happens. The farther ahead you plan, the more likely that it'll fail, and the more work you put into a strategy, the harder it'll be to ditch the plan and work something out when things go wrong." He turned to the right, and the two cultists promptly turned to follow.

"Well, do you mind if I think up a brilliant plan, then?" The cleric asked. "I recognize your superiority in these affairs, but I've learned to appreciate the conventional wisdom of thinking ahead."

"Knock yourself out," the pigtailed man said, "but don't count on dragging anyone else into it."

Rayden was about to comment as well, when he noticed a procession of Israelis rounding the corner at the end of the hall, all of them looking unsurprised and quite unhappy to see them.

"Eh? What now?" The demon knight asked. "I didn't do anything bad recently, did I?"

Kaze winced as the group approached. "What about beating a prisoner of war to obtain information?" He whispered.

"That doesn't count. He deserved it!"

"All right you two, shut it!" Ranma hissed, preparing to mollify the mysteriously upset soldiers. "Just stand back here and look innocent! Let me handle this!"


The group of IEF soldiers consisted almost entirely of army officers, with General June Kitinski at the head, a stony frown etched on her face.

Colonel Karen Molsk trailed behind her, and was the only Israeli who didn't look either angry or morbidly serious. She was obviously upset, but gave the distinct impression that she was very concerned about what was about to happen, rather than some other event that must have riled up the rest of them.

Ranma, ever the expert on dealing with people who were obviously annoyed at him, decided to take the initiative. "Hey June! What's goin' on? The strategy meeting over already?"

The number of frowns increased as June twitched at Ranma's usual overly-casual speech.

"Yes Saotome. The meeting was... brief," she said calmly, stopping a few feet away and staring expressionlessly at the mercenary. "Among the issues presented, we discussed your request to be transported into Mongolia under the protection of the IEF."

Ranma nodded, looking hopeful. "Right, right. So, what'd you decide?"

"REJECTED," the general said firmly, producing a sheet of paper and shoving it in Ranma's face.

The wanderer stumbled back before taking the paper. "Huh? What's this?"

"It's a formal order for you to evacuate from the Messiah," a different officer explained. "Many of us wanted to simply throw you off, but given your valuable assistance in the conflict yesterday, we ultimately decided to do this officially and civilly. That form details what time you and your group should be off the sandship, and what supplies will be provided to you. It also makes note of what costs your group have incurred that are being forgiven - again, due to your selfless actions in the battle yesterday."

The pigtailed boy looked utterly confused as Kaze snatched the paper out of his hands. "Wh-What? Are you serious?"

"We prefer to leave bureaucracy out of our practical jokes," June deadpanned. "I can assure you that we're serious."

"I don't understand," Kaze mumbled, looking up from the document, "What are all these strange charges here that have been attributed to us? I've never even heard of some of these materials!"

"Forget that!" Ranma interrupted, scowling. "I understand if you don't want to go where we want, but why are we being booted off the ship?"

In response, the group of officers suddenly parted, allowing the three men to see two individuals who were standing in the back.

Well, technically, there were three individuals, if one thought of small pet dragons in that manner. Emrey and Garron were holding K in the air by his wings, as if the metallic draconian were a dangerous prisoner rather than an impulsive pest. The dragon wasn't bound in general, although he was muzzled.

Ranma's face darkened as all the pieces fell into place in his mind.

"Hey! There's K!" Rayden said, grasping the most obvious feature of this encounter and totally missing the implications of what he was seeing. "Thanks for finding him, guys. He can get into trouble if you don't watch him."

June's eyebrow twitched. "We've noticed."

Kaze spent a few more moments perusing the "bill" Ranma had been handed, and nervously pointed to an item near the bottom. "Ah... so... what exactly is 'plutonium'? It's not that important... is it?"

The IEF general ignored him as she walked back to the two demons holding K in the air. "Saotome, your pet dragon has not only caused dangerous structural damage by eating his way into our supply and munitions closets, but he's also set us back billions of dollars' worth of materials and munitions. To his credit, he managed to restrain himself from eating any equipment, though he did devour two of our artillery shell prototypes."

Ranma started massaging his head as Rayden whistled.

"In light of this, and the considerable damage to our weapons research, it was... ALMOST unanimously decided that either your party or your little friend here must be removed from the ship." She raised an eyebrow, planting a hand on her hip. "Was I presumptuous in assuming that you would not tolerate the dragon's being evicted without the rest of you?"

Ranma's face colored for a moment as he stamped down his frustration. "Nah, you're right. We'll leave."

"Are you serious?!" Kaze shouted, waving the removal notice in the air. "Why should we have to be punished for this? We're heroes! And we're going to be launched into the dangerous, barren wastes because the little smart-mouthed monster that tags along with us can't control himself?"

"Yes, pretty much," June admitted. "Responsibility is a terrible and frightening thing, isn't it?"

As Kaze started grumbling and looking over the order again, June turned and snapped her fingers. "Release the pest."

Emrey, who Ranma noticed was trying and failing not to look especially smug, bowed extravagantly and then removed the muzzle from around K's beak.

As soon as the restraint was loose enough, the metadragon tossed his head to throw it to the side. "Lies! Lies, I say! I've been framed!"

Ranma, Rayden, and Kaze all sweatdropped.

"Framed. Really." Ranma deadpanned.

"Yes! This is all a setup!" K shouted, glaring at the rakshasa holding one of his wings. "This clown just wants us off the ship to break up Ranma and the Colonel! This is a conspiracy of jealousy and lust, I tell you!"

Karen looked startled at the accusation, though the other officers looked quite unconvinced. "Lieutenant? What do you have to say to that?"

Emrey snorted. "Please. That's ridiculous. How would I have accomplished something like that?"

Kaze put down the notice he was reading, and his eyes narrowed. "As I recall, stealth and duplicity is your specialty. Combined with a legitimate rank in the IEF, such a charade would be fully within your abilities."

Ranma scratched his head. "Uh... can't you just use your powers to check if he's lying or not?"

"No, I cannot," the evon said regretfully. "Rakshasa have their own powers to cloak their mind from my psychic abilities. It would take a full magical interrogation to wrench the truth out of him."

"Okay. Go ahead," June said.

"Hey!" Emrey complained, glaring at the general.

Kaze blinked. "What? Wait... are you serious?"

"If it means resolving this idiotic farce to everyone's satisfaction, by all means, do it," she said flatly. "Will any torture be required? I'd need to fill out some paperwork for that."

"HEY!!"


By this time the other officers were muttering to each other in disgust and annoyance, and Ranma was considering just leaving right then and there just to end the humiliation. K's claim wasn't very plausible, though if it was true, he really didn't want to be blamed for the damage and let the envious assassin get the better of him.

Needless to say, it surprised everyone when Rayden, of all people, came up with a simple and honest solution to the situation.

"Look, this is stupid. The shifter couldn't have done all that stuff," the demon knight insisted.

Karen looked skeptical. "While I'm not willing to declare him guilty just yet, it DOES sound like the sort of thing he'd do. How do you know?"

"Because he spent all day trying to get Ranma booted off the ship by taking on his form and then stealing from the armory and lockers that have security cameras watching them," Rayden explained.

All the IEF present promptly turned sharply toward Emrey, who held an indignantly surprised expression even as beads of sweat started rolling down his forehead.

"I saw him skulking around in 'Ranma form' while I was looking for some coins I lost recently," Rayden explained (To Kaze's credit, he didn't flinch or give any suspicious response to this). "He tried to play it off like he was Ranma, but he doesn't know Ranma very well so it was a pretty bad impression. You know, besides the whole demonic aura thing. That also kinda gave him away."

Smiling, the Dread Knight crossed his arms over his chest. "So you see, K's obviously making that story up. He ate all your stuff and he's just trying to push the blame onto the shifter because no one likes the creepy lech."

K and Kaze both glared at Rayden, but couldn't really say anything under the circumstances. Emrey could have said lots of things, but was dearly afraid that the glare Karen was giving him was going to set him on fire if he agitated her further.

"Your honesty is appreciated," June said flatly. "Now get out."

"All right, all right. Give 'em here," Ranma mumbled, snatching K out of Emrey's hands and then handing the metadragon to Rayden.

"I-I'm really sorry about this-" Karen started to stutter, but June cut her off.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Colonel. Saotome's band earned the gratitude of the IEF through their heroic acts yesterday, and exhausted that gratitude thanks to their foolishness." Her eyes narrowed. "As you leave here today, Saotome, we are officially 'even'. The IEF will suffer these pointless losses as thanks for your courage in battle. And if we encounter your little group in the future, we'll simply pretend this little incident never happened. Though I DO hope you'll have better control of your shiny little friend if and when that happens."

Karen nodded hesitantly. "Ah... as you might have noticed, among the supplies we're giving you on your departure, we're also granting you two N-880 armored all-terrain hoverbikes for transport."

"They ARE rather expensive," one of the other officers deadpanned, "so we advise you not let the dragon eat them."

"Gotcha. Thanks," Ranma said, bowing his head slightly. "And I really am sorry about this."

"I'm sure. Any other questions?" June asked.

Kaze promptly raised his hand. "One, actually... the time of departure listed on this notice?"

"What about it?"

"It was four o'clock," Kaze noted, pointing to the appropriate line on the document. "That was an hour ago."

"Oh!" June said, as if she was surprised. "So it was!"

"Whoa!"

"Hey!"

"Gah!"

"Oof!"


Ranma barely managed to roll out of the way before Rayden landed on the ground face-first, kicking up a cloud of dust as the demon knight left a heavy impression of his considerable bulk in the dry, parched landscape of the wastes.

Looking up, the pigtailed man's eye twitched as he saw K slowly lower himself down through the air from the bottom of the vast sandship hovering above.

Next to him, Kaze slowly floated downward as well, although his method involved a lot less flapping of wings and some sort of magical circle under his feet.

"You can fly?" Ranma asked bluntly of the evon.

"No, not really," Kaze said, looking frustrated. "I can hover for a ways, though."

Then the cleric looked up at the hangar he was tossed out of. "Can I at least have my magic orb back, please? It's really important!"

Rayden grumbled to himself as he pushed himself up off the ground, and then started dusting his coat off. "I can understand that they want us off the ship, but they didn't have to literally throw us-" CLANG! His head pitched forward as the Eye of Malakai slammed into the back of his head, sending him once again face-first into the dirt. "Son of a..."

Without further farewells or fanfare, the hangar slowly sealed shut, and the roar of magitech engines filled the air around the adventurers as the dreadnaught began moving.


K landed on the ground gingerly next to the decently-sized pile of food and supplied sitting next to a pair of gleaming vehicles without wheels.

"Uh... look, I guess there really isn't anything I could say to make up for that back there..." the metadragon said awkwardly.

He was immediately seared by the twin glares of Ranma and Kaze.

"No, there isn't," Ranma snapped. "If you wanna make up for it, NOT talking would be a good place to start."

"Indeed," Kaze agreed as he picked up his artifact in both hands. "It is truly a wonder that one of the 'ancient' and 'wise' serpent kings has such pathetic self-control, to say nothing of your poor grasp of ethics."

"Oh, shut up!" Ranma said angrily, turning on the priest. "You were trying to scam every gold coin you could out the soldiers up there! And how long did it take before you were trying to get into June's pants... uh... I mean, swimsuit uniform... thing..."

"That's precisely my point," Kaze said shamelessly as he swept a hand down, causing a flare of light to turn his precious sphere into a proper staff. "If you really must give in to your base desires, you must learn to do it discretely."

"I don't freaking believe this," Ranma growled as he rubbed his forehead. "Out of all of you idiots, the only one who didn't get into any trouble was the goddamned bloodthirsty, blockheaded dark demon paladin with the blood-sucking sword!"

"Yeah! You're making me look bad!" Rayden complained. "Er... I mean, making me look good! Wait..."

"That's not entirely true," Kaze said smugly. "Shikodan DID enrage General Kitinski to the point of nearly being disintegrated."

"Oh, right," the demon knight said as Ranma hung his head in defeat. "Though to be fair, enraging her to that point doesn't actually take much work."

"I hate my life," Ranma said, slowly stumbling toward the bikes and supplies. "I had it so good... walk around wherever I want... spend everything I earn... a few fights, a few parties, maybe hang out with a pretty girl every now and then... and now all of a sudden I'm being chased by dragons and driven out of holy cities and kicked off of army cruisers..."

Rayden sweatdropped. "Well... yeah... but you have to weigh that against the fact that you don't have to cook anymore!"

Thwack! Rayden wasn't entirely sure when and how Ranma struck him, but the sound of something impacting his skull was followed by intense pain, followed in turn by the Dread Knight stumbling over and tasting dirt for the third time in as many minutes.

Kaze winced, well aware that he was on very shaky ground with their group's leader as well. Not to mention that he lacked both Rayden's cultural background to excuse his selfish behavior, and Rayden's ridiculously sturdy skeleton. "But really, when we look back at the core of these difficulties, one of our most pressing problems is K's absurd feeding habits. You must have consumed, what, four metric tons of metals? More? Shouldn't you be much bigger? Or at least too heavy to fly?"

"I dunno. My metabolism IS magical," K mumbled, looking quite ashamed and withdrawn.

Rayden shook his head to try and stop the rattling noises inside his skull, and then smiled and picked the little dragon off the ground. "Aw, don't worry about it, little guy! I thought the whole mess was funny! Especially when you tried to blame everything on the rakshasa!"

"Then why'd you mess it up?" K mumbled, trying to keep Ranma from overhearing so as to not irritate him further.

"Just to see the look on his face, mostly," Rayden admitted. "Wasn't really worth it. I suppose a shifter WOULD be pretty good at hiding his surprise."


Ranma stopped in front of the pair of bikes, his expression leaden as he looked over the gleaming equipment.

The hoverbikes were definitely cutting edge, with a blast shield covering the front of the vehicle to deflect oncoming fire. The rear looked more fragile, with a large base situated behind the driver's seat to accommodate cargo or a second passenger. Behind that was a trio of relatively large engines that looked more suited to a space shuttle than a land vehicle.

Not a bad piece of equipment to have practically shoved into your arms, but it was no flying fortress.

'Maybe I should really just take off and leave these guys on their own...' he thought, running a hand over the polished surface of the frontal shield. 'I mean, it's me the dragons are after... they'd probably be much safer without me around. They'd probably...'

His expression darkened as images started running through his head: Rayden being crushed against a wall, Kaze fleeing for his life, and K trapped in a cage, begging for help. 'Who am I kidding? These idiots wouldn't last a week without me!'

"Hey, what're you standing around for?" the pigtailed man shouted suddenly, startling the two humanoids with him to attention. "We've got a bunch of gear sitting around in a big pile, and two shiny new transports to carry them with! Why should the guy without telekinesis or demonic strength have to do all the heavy lifting?"

"R-Right!" Rayden shouted, dashing toward the bikes and Kaze scurried after him. K skulked after them, trying to make himself nice and invisible.

'Well, it may suck, but things could be a lot worse, I guess,' the wanderer thought to himself as he sat down next to a rock outcropping. 'They do try, and they all do what I say. And for all the problems they've caused, I don't really want to venture into a bunch of dragon nests by myself.' He sighed tiredly as a series of small boxes floated by unsteadily. 'I can't even imagine all the problems we're going to be having down the road.'

"Ahhhh... Russia!" Doppler said pleasantly as he stepped out of the swirling blue portal and into the brisk mid-afternoon air. He raised his hands in the air - only two of them at present, as he was disguised as a human - and whirled about playfully as a tall, dark-skinned man stepped out of the portal behind him. "The only land utterly ravaged by demonkind that remains precisely as unpleasant and inhospitable as before! A marvelous place!" He chuckled wryly as he glanced about their arrival point, first making a mundane check of the area with his most mundane senses before moving on to more complicated searches.

The man behind him shifted uncomfortably as he moved closer to his master in order to be better prepared for any incoming threats; Doppler's disguise was very simple and truthfully not overly different from his actual form. Tio's body, however, was altered quite a bit to complete a plausible image of humanity. Everything from the structure of his heel to the lack of his horns felt bizarre and unnatural.

Doppler finished inspecting the area - a small, snowy clearing within a sparse cluster of evergreen trees - and promptly began casting spells. Great flares of light were followed by strings of archaic runes, drawn in the air with mere thought, and the flow of mana in the area suddenly seeped into half a dozen powerful enchantments within short order, telling the veirheelu lord the details of the area within several miles of his position and protecting his exit point from accidental intrusion.

"Ah, yes. Security appears to be light," Doppler said happily as he set off in one direction, Tio following nervously. "As would be expected. There's very little around here except wandering undead. Bandits have no settlements to attack, and no demon lord would want to construct holdings up here with so little arable land and so many riches to fight over in the south. Even scientist liches would find this place too bleak to call home."

Tio said nothing as Doppler continued talking, gleefully explaining at length how the many resources of Russian civilization had been overlooked by the demon lords after the armies had plundered Russia's palaces and then turned west, toward the weak, wealthy lands of Europe. All sorts of valuable things had been left behind, explained the demonic wizard, mostly because of the demons' chronic ineptitude with the technological. Vast stores of powerful weapons, some capable of intercontinental mass destruction, had been left to rust just like the gutted remains of the tanks that desperately tried to defend them.

Of course, Doppler wasn't interested in such things himself; to him a nuclear missile was a shamefully blunt weapon, incapable of discrimination or restraint. Though he could secure such devices for his own use, he had no use for the ridiculous things. Even if he one day decided that he was quite bored of the Earth realm and wished it all pointlessly destroyed, he could think of a dozen more entertaining and productive ways than simply wrapping the planet in mushroom clouds.

No, the crafty wizard was after much older artifacts originating from civilizations thoroughly buried beneath the snow and rock underneath his feet.

He just hoped there was some good stuff still left; those excitable archaeologists tended to get all the good stuff before a proper evil power could charge in and steal what was left.

"I think I see the camp, Master," Tio grumbled, stepping forward and holding a hand to his brow.

Doppler muttered a few quick words, activating a minor cantrip that improved his vision such that he could see the camp interior as if he had binoculars. His prize was situated in the center of the settlement, and appeared as a tremendous metal stage with a huge hole in the center leading down into the Earth, with numerous cranes and scaffolding all around it to support the powerful lifts that took people in and out of the cavern. Around the staging area were numerous tents and larger module buildings, with a small barricaded area that held the camp's generators, communications relays, and water purifier. Around the perimeter of the camp was a sturdy, barbed chainlink fence; this model had two layers of links, both reinforced by thick wires running between them. While the fence wouldn't even slow down several of the creatures that roamed the southern wastes, it was more than enough to stop zombies, and would probably stymie many of the weaker demons that couldn't fly or use projectiles.

Doppler couldn't help but smirk when he saw the large scorch marks outside the camp that were each covered in burnt human skeletons; the corpse piles, no doubt, from the numerous undead that attacked the camp. These humans knew what they were doing. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be enough. Not nearly enough.


"Halt! Identify yourself!"

Tio growled irritably as a pair of warmly-dressed men approached from the side, aiming their rifles at the pair. The advanced build of their weapons, in addition to the more obvious patch of an American flag on their sleeves, identified them as U.S. military personnel.

It's doubtful Doppler was surprised by their appearance, and if he was, he wouldn't have shown it anyway. "Why hello, gentlemen! A rather nippy day out, isn't it? My name is Douglas Theadore, and this is my associate, Tio. How may I help you?"

The soldiers stopped, and they lowered their rifles so that it was pointing in the intruders' general direction, rather than being actively aimed at their heads. "This is a restricted area. We're sorry, but you need to evacuate immediately."

"Oh, but I see a settlement just over there," Doppler said excitedly, pointing over toward the camp. "We've been having an awful time with all these monsters and whatnot, and were hoping-"

"Hold on just a minute," the second soldier interrupted, raising his goggles so that he could more effectively glare at the intruders. "Just where are you two from, anyways? What're you doing way out here?"

"We're from the urban ruins of Moscow," the veirheelu lied. "We're on a bit of an expedition to find any weapons stockpiles that may be lying around. You see-"

"Moscow? You're from Moscow?" The man interrupted again. "Your English is pretty damn good for a Ruskie native living in a burnt-out hellhole. And are we seriously supposed to believe you came all the way from Moscow without any supplies? Neither of you even have a pack."

"A zombie took my pack," Doppler said irritably, "and as it was empty anyway, I saw little point to trying to take it back. We're in rather severe need of supplies."

"We can give you some food, but that's it," the first man said firmly. "We're not a trading settlement, and we have limited supplies ourselves. Now we're going to escort you to a safe area about two miles from here. If you wait there, we'll have food brought up for you, and you can start your journey back to Moscow or wherever."

Doppler frowned as his mind churned. How to address this minor obstacle? Force seemed fully appropriate, as he'd have to eventually take over the entire complex anyway, but he was always leery of resorting to personal violence right out of the starting gate when on a mission. He could magically take over both the humans with relative ease, but wasn't sure that would delay his discovery for long; the Americans seemed to keep a very strict protocol, and apparently they were sharp enough to spot the small discrepancies in his cover.

'Ah, to the Abyss with it. Tio looks like he could use some stress relief.'

Doppler sighed and raised a hand. "I'm afraid a bit of food will not do. I'll require more than that... the artifacts within your excavation will be a good start."

The soldiers immediately aimed their rifles again as Doppler snapped his fingers.

Zwshng! Before either of the soldiers could fire, one of them was sliced clean in half by Tio's blinding charge, and a shimmering blue glow accented the bright wash of crimson as the magically disguised devil completed his lunge, landing far behind his enemies while holding a glowing scimitar.

The remaining soldier, shocked as he was by his partner's sudden death, let his instincts take over and promptly fired a burst into Doppler... or rather, into the invisible barrier around Doppler.

The veirheelu shook his head as the projectiles bounced off his shield, falling to the ground uselessly. "Humans... you ALWAYS have to resist, don't you?"

The soldier, still painted with the blood spray from his partner, seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then suddenly turned and ran for the encampment, his hand fumbling for his radio.

Doppler briefly gestured to Tio, and the demonic henchman snapped his arm to his waist, causing a wrist-mounted crossbow to appear on his arm as if by magic (which it was, obviously).

A split-second later a slight snapping noise heralded the end of the scout's life right before a crossbow bolt glowing a brilliant purple plunged into his back, sending him tumbling forward into the snow.

Shooooom! The purple glow rapidly encompassed the entire man as he writhed about painfully, and within seconds he was still as his spirit was systematically ejected from his body in a flare of violet flame.


"Well, that pretty much set the pace for the rest of the evening, I suppose," the demon lord mumbled. "I suppose we'd better attack before they realize what-"

MREEEEEEEM!! MREEEEEEEEM!!

Doppler whirled around as a painfully loud siren started screeching, and he was surprised to see a small, spherical robot drone hovering in the air next to a tree. Mounted on the front was visual sensor, which was positioned such that it probably saw his murder of the two scouts. Mounted on the top of the drone was a red siren sitting within a ring of speaker slits which was inconveniently making a bloody racket just to underline the fact that he had messed up.

"Huh. Didn't see that coming," the veirheelu muttered as his finger started glowing blue. "These Americans and their security. Ridiculous. Shock bullet."

Gzak! The drone promptly lost power as a sphere of lightning struck it, searing its casing and utterly frying all of its internal circuits.

"Tio, you may go ahead and shed your disguise. I think they're pretty sure we're not human by now," Doppler said irritably.

"Yes, Master," the devil said with an undeniable edge of relief. His body flared white for a moment, and then his silhouette within the halo of light grew substantially, turning the Nubian man into the vicious blue monster he was born as.

"Prepare for resistance," Doppler ordered. "There may be more to this complex than I thought..." 'And that will just make the reward that much sweeter...'

End Chapter 14