[FFML] [Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter 55 - Let the Ladies Be Heard From Part 2 of 5

[Daniel Jess Gibson]

[Ranma][NGE][HPL][AMG][Fusion][Fanfic] Sic Semper Morituri Chapter
55 - Let the Ladies Be Heard From

Disclaimer:
I do not own any of the characters from Ranma 1 / 2, Neon Genesis
Evangelion, Ah My Goddess, or the Lovecraft Cycle involved in these
stories.

C&C, MSTs are welcome
E-mail: dan_s.comments at comcast.net or  dan_s.comments at att.net
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er-Morituri/

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/type/Sic-Semper-Morituri
(these are the original versions)


      Ranma looked in the bathroom mirror at the redhead staring
back at him.  He instantly grabbed his pigtail, as did she.  His was
black, her's was red.
      "Not another one of _those_ conversations!" he hung his head
and lamented, "They're going to think I'm nuts, talking to myself."
      "Do you hear anything?" his mirror image asked, her hand to
her ear.
      Ranma felt an odd need to mirror the gesture, he barely
stopped himself, but he did listen.  He heard nothing, not even the
beating of his own heart.
      "This is private," she assured him, "Just us."  She pointed from
him to her.
      "So why are we talking again?" he asked, feeling especially
weird talking to himself, yet not himself.
      "Just a few things bothering me," she said, smiling cutely at
him.
      He shook his head violently.   ~I'm looking at _myself_, and
thinking how cute I am,~ he thought, then announced, "That's sick!"
      "I know that," his reflection told him, smiling broadly, "I think
you're really yummy too."
      Ranma blushed in spite of himself.  Recognizing his own tricks
in the conversation.
      "You don't understand," his reflection said, like she was
lecturing a particularly stupid schoolboy, "Do you?"
      "What?!" Ranma asked, "What Asuka and Rei are plotting?  Why
Asuka keeps looking at Rei and smiling?  No, I don't understand."
      "Then you aren't thinking," Ranko said and paced within the
mirror, "Asuka-chan's planning something, it's the idea of
surprising Rei that's got her smiling.  You should have figured that
out, _|I|_ did."
      Ranma frowned at that.  "I figured she was planning
something, but she never plans anything _nice_, and Shinji seems to
be going along with it.  Helping her.  _That's_ what I don't
understand."
      "Me neither," Ranko admitted, with a shrug, "So I figured I'd
talk about it."  Then she smiled broadly.  "And Nab-chan and
Raccoon are going to be back soon, and boy are you nervous about
_that_."
      "What do you mean?" Ranma accused, waving his finger at his
reflection, who struggled not to wave her finger back.  "I'm not
afraid of Nab-chan, I'm not afraid of Raccoon."
      Ranko leaned her cheek against the glass and sighed.  "What
about the warmth pressed against you, that someone needed and
wanted you?"
      Ranma raised a fist to give his reflection a black eye and
himself seven years back luck, then lowered it.  "What would _you_
know about being lonely.  You're beautiful, charming Ranko,
everybody loves you, everybody wants you."  He stopped, stared at
the ceiling.  "This is stupid!  I'm arguing with myself!"
      "And you don't think _that's_ lonely?  Being just a piece of
meat to be drooled on?  I can understand why Asuka-chan doesn't
care about boys her own age.  Most of them are disgusting!" she
shouted angrily.  When she calmed down, and Ranma quit shivering,
she explained, "And I'm not you, you aren't me, and neither of us
are all there is to Saotome Ranma.  So two parts of Ranma are
arguing.  Do you think either one of us could do this and the other
couldn't.  I'm as surprised as you are to be here.  But we got stuff
in common, we've got differences, but until both of us work
together, there won't be _one_ Ranma."
      "Ranma's a guy!" he told her.
      "Ranma's an odd one now," Ranko corrected, "That means `he`
can be a guy, or a girl, and `she` can be a guy or a girl.  Or a
fire-breathing tadpole now."  She laughed.
      Ranma felt his head spinning.
      "He _|and|_ she are there."  Ranko tapped Ranma's forehead
before he could yank it back.  "Guy or girl is just the covering."
She cupped her breasts and released them before Ranma got too
indignant.  "It's always a pretty covering, but it's only a covering.  I
think Ranma, the real one, is learning to use Nyogtha's powers,
that's why you and I can't control the transformation.  You always
hated having water splash on you, you _still_ can't control the
change, and you hate that even more."
      "There's the `other` too," Ranma pointed out to avoid
acknowledging that the lack of control bothered him, "What, we
have to merge with it?"  That thought bothered him even more.
      "I think we have to let it have more say in what we do and
are," Ranko said, "Frankly, I don't think it considers anything
beyond fighting, 'pack', and kittens."
      Both Ranma and Ranko shuddered at the idea of becoming
parents that young.  Especially with the `other` doing the
mate-choosing.
      "So the other, what would it do?" Ranma asked.
      Ranko shrugged.  "Dunno, but we should think about it, as
long as we're like this."  She pointed to him and herself.  "Split up,
unconnected, something might take advantage."
      "We've beaten everything that came at us!" he replied hotly.
      "Like Raccoon's shooting, like the Meliorist in the Dreamlands,
or Rei-chan in like . . . _anything_?_  Whatever gave us those weird
dreams, didn't get beat by _us_!  It got beat by our friends: Shinji,
Toji, the Dragon.  I agree, a straight face-to-face fight, except for
Nyarlathotep . . . crap, I can pronounce that without trying . . . in a
fight like that, we'll win.  You and I know there are other kinds of
fighting, and some of them we're no good at - "
      "Yet," Ranma and Ranko told him and herself with surety.
      "If we lose, there may not _be_ a 'yet'," Ranko reminded him
of something he'd avoided thinking about.
      He sighed, nodded, then looked around, hoping nobody else
could hear the conversation.  "What do _we_ do?"
      "First," Ranko said quietly, "You need to get over how you feel
about Nab-chan and Raccoon."
      "Get over - !?" he screamed.
      "Don't quit feeling it!" Ranko shouted at him as he turned his
back to the mirror, "Gods, I'm dense sometimes!"  She ignored the
fist threatening the silvered glass.
      "I'm not afraid of them!" Ranma shouted at her nose-to-nose,
his stubbornness mirrored on her face.
      "_I_ never said you were . . . _you_ just did!" Ranko shouted
back in frustration, "What is _with_ you?  Are you happier with
Rei-chan and Asuka-chan who beat you up and yell at you, rather
than somebody who treats you nice?"
      Ranma froze, staring at the mirror.  Ranko mirrored his
expression and pose.  "That's it, isn't it?" Ranko asked, as if
realizing the truth, then she got a smug expression, "The great
invincible and sought-after Ranma Saotome, so desperate to be the
center of attention, loves being worshiped . . . " her tone softened,
"Is afraid of people just being decent to him."
      "I got friends," Ranma said defensively.   ~Now I know why the
others hate me teasing them,~ he thought, ~It's like having my skin
sanded off.~
      "Friends like Nab-chan and Raccoon?  You've got rivals and
admirers, they aren't the same as friends," Ranko asked quietly,
probing rather than teasing, only her quirked eyebrow indicated her
feelings, "Let's ask _why_ you are . . . uncomfortable."
      "Raccoon's a guy!" Ranma insisted as he turned his back on
the mirror, knowing he was hiding.  He glanced over his shoulder
cautiously, and instantly turned away from the sight.
      "Is that all you think my interest in him is about?" Ranko
sounded and looked more like a mad Asuka, "That all I want him for
is to stick things in me?"
      Ranma could feel the sweat pouring down his back.  "I'm not
afraid, I am _deciding_ not to turn around."
      "I heard that," Ranko said coldly, a mirror of Nab-chan's tone,
"You really don't get it, do you?  You really don't, why me and
Raccoon bug you so much?"  Ranko laughed at him.
      "What's so funny!?" Ranma angrily whirled around to confront
and demand.
      "You," Ranko said, pointing at him and laughing, "What's really
got you mad is that I can beat him, and that 'Nobody beats Ranma
Saotome', can't - even - come - close," Ranko teased.
      "Boy, does that tone bug me," Ranma muttered, then shouted,
"How do you beat him!?"
      Ranko's anger seemed to vanish.  She looked at him with soft,
doe eyes and smilingly held her arms wide open.  Ranma wanted to
step up, into that embrace.  Then he shook himself loose of the
spell.
      "You be weak?" Ranma said disdainfully, "That's . . . " He
searched for an insult that could cover his disgust with her and her
trick.
      "More complicated," Ranko told him with an irritating smirk,
"It isn't just weak, it can also be if _he's_ weak.  You never give
yourself permission to be weak, to just cuddle in somebody's arms,
even when you're in a girl's body.  That's weak, fine, but you also
never drew them into your arms to protect them, to make them
feel safe.  When _they're_ feeling weak."  Her voice softened, she let
him see and hear how tired she was, "It's a martial artist's job to
be ready to fight at anytime, in any conditions, right?"
      "Yeah, sure," Ranma said in confusion, "You know that."
      "Don't you ever get tired of it?  Always having to be on guard,
always looking at everybody and having 'how are they going to
attack' running through your head?"
      Ranma paused before answering.  ~The truth is . . . I do, but
it's a martial artist's job,~ he thought, then said, "It's the price I -
we - pay."
      "Fine, you and I are used to it.  Don't you think the others
would like to not have that burden for a time?  Even just a few
moments of peace?  Don't you think they'd like to know they can
rely on _us_ to protect them, so _they_ can relax a bit?"
      Ranma realized he'd never considered that.  "What's that got .
. . oh."  It all fell into place, as if he'd mastered a new technique.
One Ranko had mastered months ago.
      Ranko smiled.  "That's right, a few moment of feeling . . . not
safe, but saf-_er_, of knowing somebody is guarding their back.
Maybe Raccoon only keeps looking for mystical threats, maybe Rei
and Asuka figure we'll point out whatever the problem is with a
dumb question.  It also means, we have someone watching our back,
we can relax just a bit.  Do you really think all that weird stuff
that Raccoon and Asuka-chan described in Nerima would have
happened if they, or even Shinji, was there?  I - don't - think - so.
They would have helped protect us, maybe from ourselves, but they
would have done it.  Why do you think Nab-chan crawled into
Rei-chan's lap and not yours?  Why was Rei-chan the one who
could comfort Asuka-chan?  Because being thought of as soft and
girly isn't something she's the least bit bothered by, I just bet she
_loves_ it.  She loves being thought of as a _protector_, rather than
just a fighter," Ranko sternly told Ranma, "Has that made you less
afraid of her?  Has that made you less happy she's on your side in
a fight?  Instead of standing against you?"
      Ranma frowned, hating to admit it, "No."
      "So how would you be weakened?  How would you be dim -
made smaller in power by giving _them_ a few moments of quiet
and safety?  Or by getting a few moments yourself?"
      Ranma opened his mouth to protest, then shut it and thought.
      Ranko continued to press, "How many sacrifice maneuvers do
you know?  Maneuvers which make you weak, to put an enemy at a
severe disadvantage, if they work."
      "Yeah, I know plenty," Ranma replied distractedly, silently
hating where the conclusion led.
      "So what's the problem?"
      "It's not the same!" Ranma insisted, repeating the old
argument, without believing it.
      "How is it different?" Ranko asked petulantly, "You risk
yourself to gain an advantage, how is that different from letting you
and them get closer?  If you find out they can't be trusted, you
pull back.  If you _can_ trust them, you're ahead of the game."
      "It isn't that simple," Ranma retorted loudly, then added
softly, "There's a big difference."
      "Because you're afraid," Ranko said, throwing up her hands in
disgust, "But not of anyone who _will_ hurt you, just of people who
_might_ hurt you.  You'd rather have them afraid and uncertain
about you, that's |pathetic!|"
      Ranma raised his fist, and saw the ceiling of his bedroom was
not intimidated by him in the least.  "Terrific," he said to the
empty room, "Another one of _those_ dreams.  Why don't I just
_tell_ myself what I need to know."
      " 'Cause you wouldn't listen," he would have sworn he heard all
the pilots chorus.
      He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.
------------------------------
Then momentarily out of action, temporarily out of gas
      ~Why haven't you adopted those tactics here?~ Nabiki asked
herself the same question she'd been asking since Ritsuko had
tucked her in and left after kissing her forehead, ~Are you afraid of
retribution?~ She touched her forehead. ~Or are you afraid of
alienating them?  They'd remember slights and insults, they'd never
trust you on _anything_ again.~   She didn't want to keep thinking
this through, arguing with herself over and over again, she wanted
to take the wonderful, warm, safe feeling she'd had when Ritsuko
had held her, and wrap it around herself again and never let it
fade.  She pulled the pillow from under her head and hugged it
tightly against her chest.   ~Instead, I keep torturing myself.
Maybe I should try it, it would solve my worries, since Rei or
Raccoon might see clear to 'eliminating the problem',~ Nabiki lied
to herself, worse she knew she was lying and this time she couldn't
just dismiss it all, ~No, it isn't any of that.  The part I always
admired about Akane, how strong she was, or rather her willingness
to use her strength.  Unlike Kasumi, who had almost no strength
and no desire to use the strength she had.  Then when Ranma came
. . . did I do all the things I did because I was afraid.  No, that's not
me.  What could he do to me?  But here . . . they _could_ hurt me,
they could beat me at my own game.  Asuka, Raccoon, even Rei and
Ritsuko have as sharp a tongue as mine.  Raccoon's a better
conman.  Ritsuko could probably beat Ranma in a fight.  But all
that isn't what scares me about them.  I can't believe it's -
loneliness, I was never lonely in Nerima, only a few people didn't
despise me, and the rest were either afraid of me, or of no
consequence . . . no consequence.  There I could be alone, I found
out you can be more alone in a crowded room, than you can be in
a forest.  It's all about hope.  I never had one bit of hope that
those people would like me, would help me.  That's not the case
here.  Is that what draws me?  Ranma is full of it . . . ~
      "In more ways than one," Nabiki commented.   ~Asuka's the
same.  The less said about our tactical commander the better, but
even Gendo and Simson let 'the kids' go, control us with experience
and advice, and otherwise give us free rein.~   "Do they hope too?"
she asked the room.   ~I never had any hopes in Nerima, plans,
hopes and dreams were just things to be smashed and stolen by
other people.  One scam after another.  Filling up all the empty
time.  I knew if I could keep someone off balance long enough, I'd
win and I could forget about the whole thing until the opportunity
presented itself again.~
      Nabiki rolled over in her bunk, concentrating on the washer on
the floor, she emptied her mind and pushed on it with the stare.
Nothing happened. ~Even cynical 'I'm going to die instead of you'
thinks about and believes in hope.  He's got none, but nurtures it in
others.~   "Emptiness, if he really understood Nerima, he would
have taught me to batter thought and emotion away with a wall of
plate steel and worked down," she mumbled, "I guess what _really_
bothers me . . . is they like me, my fellow pilots, my `mom`, all
those soldiers.  Now, I'm afraid of that.  More afraid of keeping it,
than of losing it, though that would hurt a _lot_ too.  Nothing I did
in Nerima really changed anything.  Kasumi stayed the same, my
father stayed the same, nothing ever really reformed, no matter
what I did to try and shake things up.~   She touched her hip,
remembering how it was broken.   ~Even _that_ didn't really
change anything.  Just methods, and realizing that anything I
desperately, passionately wanted . . . I could never have.  As soon as
I saw something I wanted, it would be destroyed or someone `more
deserving` would take it away or be given it.  I guess that's another
reason I foisted Ranma off on lil' sis, because if I tried to take him
. . . she'd just have tried and succeeded in taking him away.  Give
_her_ the romantic involvement, and those two would stay at each
others throats until the end of time.~
      "Was I that selfish?  Knowing I couldn't have him, I made sure
_nobody_ would?  That little sis would never appreciate his
qualities, or smooth over his plentiful rough edges, but be jealous
anytime anyone got near `her` man?" she asked the emptiness
around her and within her, then she raised her arm, looking
intently at the marks there, "Wasn't that the most small, weak, and
selfish thing I ever did?  Since I couldn't have him, I fixed it so no
one else would make him happy, or even be allowed to try?  The
one thing I ever did that lasted, and the most sadistic.  My legacy:
two wounded cats in a sack, eternally tearing each other to pieces."
      She felt confusion from the elemental.   ~So, you understand
why I did what I did,~ she realized, ~You just can't figure out why
I'm dwelling on it, instead of fixing it.  The answer's easy: I don't
_like_ who I was.  I also know Asuka, Raccoon, Ritsuko and I guess,
Gendo, all know who I really am, or was.  So why haven't they
confronted me?  Why haven't they tossed me out?  Why?  Why?
Why?~
      There was silence from the elemental, Nabiki hadn't expected
words, or even thoughts.  The winds began, building to an oddly
precise hurricane.  Nabiki found her bedding wrapped around her,
squeezing her gently.  The winds ebbed and rose, tightening and
loosening the wrapping.
      "Okay, okay," Nabiki chuckled at the odd `hug` from her ally
and teacher, wondering why even an elemental from another plane
understood the gentle approach, when so few in her former home
had any idea.
------------------------------
August 13, 1947
      "Why now?" Nabiki asked tiredly as they headed towards the
mess hall for breakfast, she hadn't slept well, thinking on all the
same topics, until she fell into an exhausted sleep.   ~Or Coffee
`zapped` me,~ she thought.  "Why are you willing to teach me now?
When you weren't before?"
      "Because you have the power now, and it frightens, you
respect it.  It's obvious if you gain _more_ power, you'd respect it
as well."  He effortlessly continued the 'head-bagger-knee-knocker'
gait as he walked.
      "Yes, Coffee and . . . the Brothers," Nabiki admitted and
turned away," I suppose it - it did scare me."
      Jeff stopped to wait for her.  "Not just that, you wouldn't
simply unleash your new powers on the people who've hurt you all
your life.  That's the real development."
      "It hardly seems fair," Nabiki said and shrugged, "Although I
wouldn't normally care about fair.  The spell, the winds - " She
walked to the entrance of the mess hall, where Jeff waited for her.
      "It's not that.  You have another, even greater power that
frightens you even more, it can exceed any spell or wind that you
or I could unleash.  It could hunt your targets down and destroy
them utterly, and you give no evidence of using or abusing that
power either."
      "What power is that?" she asked, mystified about what the
power could be, "Not the EVA?"
      "Certainly not."  He opened the hatch and held it for her,
displaying all the sailors and Marines collecting their trays, sitting
to eat, and in the middle `their` table sat empty.  "Imagine you
were sitting in the mess hall at lunch, and one of your foes
appeared with a cry, that because of you 'I've seen Philadelphia and
you must suffer horribly as you die.'  You could kill them with just
two words.  Yet you'd fear to say those words, seek another,
gentler, less vengeful way."
      "Really?  What are these words?" Nabiki asked, becoming
uncomfortable as one-by-one, every man in the compartment
stopped eating and was turning to look at her and Raccoon with
growing concern.
      "Open fire."
      Nabiki shuddered as she summoned the image of the bane of
her existence facing such a fusillade.  She saw in the faces, the
curiosity and concern for her welfare.  ~All I'm doing is looking
unhappy and worried,~ she thought, noting the number of men who
sat and ate while armed, ~And these men, these soldiers, are ready
to go kill something.~  She shook her head to banish the image of
grisly death, and what the Marines and sailors would do, and had
done to protect her.  She smiled to them, waved.  "The 214 offered
to fly over and teach us to shoot from a Corsair," she announced
and was relieved when most returned to their meals.  "Yeah," she
admitted quietly, suppressed a shudder as she entered the mess
hall, "If I told them all that - was done to me, I can imagine what
they'd do."
      "Power," Jeff said quietly, "Learning to use it, learning when to
hold it back, and when to unleash it."
      Nabiki nodded as she picked up a tray.   ~He's right, back in
Nerima it was just me being quicker of mind than the others.  Here
I can think and plan, all to direct forces into a coordinated attack.
Very different.~
------------------------------
Drop of a hat she's as willing as playful as a pussy cat
      Maya stood on the deck of the carrier.  They had a strong
'following' wind, so the apparent wind over the deck was minimal.
She ignored the occasional blasts of multiple .50's beneath her, and
looked over the Marines and sailors who had assembled.  ~I wish
they were still treating me as their `kid` sister, instead of the local
expert,~ she thought of the intense interest they were directing at
her.  ~I could understand that, if I was wearing my usual skirt,
instead of the slacks I am wearing and if I were as beautiful as
Sempai.~  She steadied herself.  ~I'm more comfortable as a joke,
or one of the other's sidekick,~ she thought as she looked at the
men's faces, ~Not as the teacher.  It would be - almost - better if
they were leering at me, instead of attentively listening.~  She held
up a rifle in one hand and a bazooka in the other.  "These for
killing human enemies," she said over the noise of the wind, "Many
enemies, bullet-immune are," she told them, "Too many of our new
enemies not hurt with bullets, not hurt by rockets, not hurt by
bayonets."
      She set the bazooka down, then thrust with the rifle butt.
~Just like I was trained,~ she thought before saying, "That works
better."  She let them mumble among themselves for a few
moments.  "Fist and club, less immunity, but fist hit pile of dung,
who volunteers?" she said as she raised her hand and looked
around eagerly, and let them chuckle, knowing it was not her
idiosyncratic English, but at the pictures she drew with her words.
She walked up to Sgt. Kilrain.  "I try on Sergeant," she said as she
mimed a thrust, "I think I lose all my teeth on deck."  ~Better if
they were laughing at me because I'm just a silly girl.  No wonder
Nabiki's so nervous,~ she thought.
      She let the laughter roll over her.  ~Feels better, more
natural, that they're laughing with me, or laughing at me,~ she
thought as she returned to the bazooka, remembering to bend at
the knees to set down the rifle, instead of at the waist.  It only
reduced, not eliminated, the wolf-whistles.
      Maya felt herself blushing at the whistles and the comments
that accompanied them.  She'd already worked out a counter with
Nabiki, "You whistle at me," she shouted back as she lifted a
bazooka, "You been at sea too long."
      Many of the men guffawed at that.  Maya held up the bazooka
as she straightened up.  "Bazooka rocket, lance of fire kills tanks.
President name for it.  Ask Raccoon, I forget."  She let them
chuckle again.  "Tank-killing lance of fire, useless is. Holds bazooka
this way, now is a useful club.  However -"  She lifted a practice
round.  "If punch works, this is how we really punch enemies.
Practice round is solid.  Warhead of concrete."  She loaded it as
she'd been drilled.  "It is the punch we use.  Rocket Punch!" she
shouted as she aimed over the side of the ship, making sure the
backblast wouldn't hit anyone or anything, and pulled the trigger.
      The rocket streaked away, wobbling slightly under power.  The
motor burned out and the rocket dropped into the sea with a
tremendous splash.
      "Tactics very old, may seem strange.   Napoleon," she
explained as she handed the bazooka to an armorer for reloading,
"Many guns not good aiming results.  So line of men, all shoot as
one.  Volley fire?" she couldn't keep the question from her voice.
      ~Why do I keep thinking Sempai and Raccoon set me up to
embarrass me?  I have to get used to dealing with these people,
and especially dealing with their words.~   "Chief Armstead, he
knows old drill," she said as she stepped to the end of the front
line.
      The Chief stepped in front of the group.  He talked too fast for
Maya to follow, but the men seemed to understand and accept what
he said.  Eight men and Maya were selected and provided with
bazooka's by the armorers.
      "Load!" the Chief called.
      Maya loaded the dummy round as she'd been drilled.  Ignoring
the Chief's almost incomprehensible words of explanation.
      "Volley fire present!" the chief ordered and Maya stood and
aimed her bazooka, along with the rest of the line.
      ~This thing is heavy,~ she thought, ~Heavier than before, how
is that possible?~
      She noted Armstead moving to the side.  ~The Chief won't
stand in front of us, even loaded with dummies, just in case,~ she
thought.
      "Volley Fire!" the chief ordered.
      Nine fingers pulled their triggers.
------------------------------
      Gendo noticed the posting on the main message board.  He
took down the list, and decided to examine it thoroughly.  "
'Unwritten Rules of NERV'?" he read quietly, as he noted the
message had all the proper notations that made it an official U.S.
Navy transmission, and for public posting in Task Force 7N, NERV
and it's associated elements.
      He saw Rei's neat handwriting and wondered why she hadn't
mentioned her own addition to the list.   ~I never considered the
written word as a way for her to more openly express herself.  She
has so little patience for the spoken word,~ he considered her `rule`
and added, not a correction, but a clarification.  He considered the
list broadly.   ~A relatively harmless way to deal with tension, the
proliferation of typewriters also gives complete anonymity to those
who want it,~ he thought as he glanced at the signals officer, ~I
suspect there are people `guarding` the list to keep it humorous,
albeit informative, without it becoming obscene or trivial.~   Gendo
completed his amendment and returned the clipboard to the wall,
wondering how it fit in with his `Diabolical Plan`.
      The signal's officer noted the neat handwriting, in English and
Japanese.  '5.) Do not call Commander Ikari's office 'The Ninth
Circle of Hell.'
'5a.) Unless you desire a personal interview to test your assertion.
Always willing to please.'
      "I think this place is getting to people," he said as he typed
the amendment for the next housekeeping transmission.
----------------------------------------------
-----------
      They sat on the floor among the chairs of the 'pilots'
playroom'.  Nabiki stared at him.  ~I don't need a conversation
block to tell me she's anxious to get started,~ he thought.  "You
absorbed the powers of the Flying Polyps.  With Coffee's influence,
you should be able to summon the winds they controlled."  Out of
his satchel, he pulled out a sheet of notebook paper.
      "As Coffee will tell you, air and wind are powerful elements,
when used correctly.  The powers you have, will have nothing to do
with spellcasting.  This is just you setting your will to a task."
      "It is by will alone that I set the wind in motion, it is by the
blood of Polyps that air acquires speed," Nabiki intoned with all
apparent seriousness.
      Jeff noted the humorous conversation block and grimaced.
"Uh, yeah I guess," he said, "Anyway, I want you to summon a wind
strong enough to -"
      Confetti fluttered down from the ceiling to rain down on both
of them.  Jeff glanced at the tiny piece of paper left in his hand.
His usual aplomb was hard to maintain.  "Okay, power training and
subtly teaching you to activate your abilities is done, let's talk
about control."  He glanced at Nabiki.  She stared at the overhead
and descending shreds of paper, and had a piece of confetti on her
nose, and seemed content to let it remain there.  He waved a hand
in front of her face.  "Are you still here?"
      "Th - that - wasn't supposed to happen?  Was it?" she
stammered.
      "Eventually, yes," Jeff told her.  ~She's scared,~ he noted from
the block of color that hovered over them.  "There's nothing wrong
with that.  It was going to happen, as you defeated more enemies in
combat.  It's happening to all of us."
      Nabiki stared at him with a horrified expression.
      He plucked the piece of paper off her nose and somberly
continued, to calm her down, "Control is the key.  Do you control
the power and personalities, or do they control you?  You've got
people to help.  Rei and I are probably used to it, Asuka and Ranma
are probably as disconcerted by it as you appeared to be.  So you
have your choice of coaches and commiseraters."
      "You're okay with this?" she asked on the edge of hysteria.
      "You forget what I am," he said coolly, "I look and try to act
human, but I'm not.  No, I'm not okay with this."  He shrugged.
"What's the alternative?  Let our enemies win?"
      "What if we become the enemy?" Nabiki asked, now more
hopeless than hysterical.
      He resisted the urge to touch her, not knowing how she'd
react.   ~Cold words,~ he thought, ~Colder, calmer is better.~
"Rei or I will kill you in that event."
      "Gee, thanks loads," Nabiki commented dryly.
      ~Good,~ he thought, ~Back to sardonic.~   "Hopefully,
someone will do us the same favor should we lose control."
      Nabiki stared at him in horror.
      "I've said it before, why are you so shocked?" he asked
incredulously.
      "I thought you were joking!  You know 'I'm Mister Doomed and
Mysterious, aren't I cool?'"
      He smirked at that.  "Ha!  What changed your mind?" he asked
with genuine curiosity.
      "I realized if I killed you I'd . . . " She stared at her clasped
hands in her lap.  "Eat you.  Not your body, but all the parts that
make you you . . . that's how you beat Sharon . . . " She stared at
him.  "Isn't it?  You `ate` her?"
      "Yes," he admitted, nodding, "I thought I could do it carefully,
hold her together . . . put her somewhere safe, then restore her to
a living body."   He sighed, shook his head.   ~I won't breakdown,~
he thought, ~I did what I could.~   He centered himself and
continued.  It doesn't work like that, all my effort, all my skill, she
still crumbled like old paper.  Soon there was nothing left except
bits.  Just like Chaugnar Faugh."
      He was glad Nabiki was looking around the room trying to fix
on something.  He needed to put those emotions aside.   ~Or I'll
lose her too,~ he reminded himself.
      "That's what we've become.  That's what you volunteered for,"
he told her carefully.
      "I knew this was too good to be true."  Nabiki grimaced.
"What do we do when it's over?  When we've won?" she asked,
frowning in disgust.
      "Depending on when it's over, we either become the avatars of
various cosmic principles, or we would just go out into space.
Staying on Earth would be too dangerous.  There's also something
I've been trying to ferret out, maybe we won't have these worries."
      "That sounds good," Nabiki said eagerly.  Her smile and
conversation block showed it wasn't feigned.
      "We won't have them because we'll all be dead.  I've got
independent confirmation of what Shinji was talking about.  I don't
know if that will be a good or bad thing."  He shrugged as if it
didn't matter.   ~Hopefully, she's still got a trace of 'If you save
Nihon and his August Majesty, then today is a good day to die',~ he
thought, ~Because dying is about the best deal we can make.
Maybe a Japanese wouldn't find oblivion as terrifying as I did . . .
Until I realized the alternatives.~
      Nabiki nodded.
      "Let's get back to control," he told her, shifting to a less
highly-charged subject, "Let's see if you can generate a small wind,
enough to move this paper across the floor -"  A mass of flaming
confetti slammed into the bulkhead.  "- and keep it in one piece.
Let's try again."  Then he muttered, "I'm glad this is cheap paper.
Maybe I should have brought plate steel."
------------------------------
      Maya walked up to the `pilots' playroom`.  The smoke wafting
off her was not _entirely_ due to her mood.  The Marine guards
tensed at her expression, but she paid them no mind.  She yanked
the list off the wall, completely missing the frightened looks of the
ensign who had been following her.  She glanced back over her
shoulder, and he decided _anywhere_ else on the ship was a better
place to be.  She concentrated on writing in English, muttering
angrily in Japanese to burn off some of her frustration.  "Whoever
was so clever with the smoke bombs . . . the Captain and the
Admiral . . . and many of the senior chiefs will want to -" she
paused, and spotted Jeff approaching, she used the ancient form,
"Removing the husk, what is the proper word?"
      "Flaying," Jeff told her as he read her entry over her shoulder.
Switching to Japanese, he said, "Although colloquially."
      He returned to English, "Skinning alive."
      She said quietly, "Skin alive, yes, that's what they say."  She
hung up the clipboard and stalked off.
      She heard Jeff reading the entry aloud.  " 'Do not substitute
smoke grenades for practice grenades, just to see if they notice.'
Oh, _lovely_._"
      "I think the lady's seriously pissed," she heard one of the
Marines tell Jeff.
      She heard a pen scratching as Jeff replied, " 'The difference
between a monster immune to bullets and resistant to bullets can
be determined with a short burst of .50 API, if it is merely unhappy
and not seriously wounded, it's immune.  Further testing is
unnecessary.'  Tell the joker that swimming back to the West Coast
might be a good career choice."
      She smirked at that as she headed towards the `girls'` shower.
------------------------------
      Kaji entered the commander's office.   ~Hard to tell which of
us is in a fouler mood,~ he thought as he rubbed a hand over his
stubble.  He lounged against a chair near the Commander's desk
      "How did you allow this?" Ikari asked, staring over his steepled
fingers.
      "They were fully vetted," Kaji countered, "The vetting process
was compromised, we are re-vetting all the important personnel.
Doctor Akagi and Analyst Ibuki are out of reach."
      "The military will take care of that," Ikari said, "I want to
know why the immediate defenses were not available.  The idea that
such a lapse was allowed to occur - "
      "Afraid of losing control of the kids?" he asked flippantly.
      "Considering our _reserves_ destroyed a number of major
mystical enemies, with hand weapons," Ikari lectured at him, "I
think fear of a loss of control would be a serious threat."
      ~More than _you_ do,~ Kaji mentally completed the
Commander's thought, ~Except I have a control you don't.~  "Our
investigation has turned up no other SEELE sleeper cells.  The
investigation of the school kids _has_ turned up something, while
they think we're looking elsewhere, one of their number, Asuka's
nemesis, has disappeared, her parents also were found dead.  Some
of our mystical types say they were sacrificed.  Maybe she killed
them to escape, or we are meant to think she did."
      "Understood, is she any longer a threat?" Ikari asked,
continuing to stare at Kaji over his fingers and glasses.
      Kaji was almost immune.  "I doubt she's a threat.  My major
concern is that the idea we can't control the area surrounding the
pilots seems to be gaining ground among our enemies.  The Navy
will be bringing in a large number of troops.  These troops could be
used for security and would be beyond our control sheerly by their
numbers.  Whether they were Navy or not."
      "That doesn't concern us . . . yet," Ikari said, he seemed to
concentrate on something Kaji couldn't see, "How do we deal with
our internal security concerns.  If SEELE can strike at the pilots,
they can strike at more sensitive areas."
      "I have people I can trust looking into that," Kaji assured him,
hoping the man would believe him.
      "If they could get in, they could cause trouble we could not
compensate for, or conceal."  He returned his full attention to Kaji.
      "I understand."
      "I thought you would be concerned about Miss Langley."
      Kaji snorted.  "As a pilot, yes, but she has more than enough
people looking after her."   ~The last thing I need is her clinging to
me while I try to do my job,~ he thought, ~And you think I'm being
callous to her, or not taking an opportunity to control her better.
I have other, more reliable tools.~   "The Mija operations continue
unabated.  The books you've been after are on their way, and the
special shipment is aboard the carrier.  Although I suspect that
young Davis's powder may be a safer and more stable alternative."
      "Wouldn't a pilot make themselves immune to such a
chemical?" Ikari asked with a smile.
      ~Probably not,~ Kaji thought, ~Just to reassure us he's 'on
our side'.~   "Maybe, maybe not," Kaji answered.   ~Is that respect I
hear Ikari?~ Kaji wondered, ~Something to look into.  Like where
you've been disappearing to on your `special project`, the one the
Admiral set on you.~   "I think SEELE did not send the attackers,
I'd call it a misfire, someone sent them without the high command
officially sending the order.  The entire committee could deny what
happened.  To prevent anything from coming back at them."
      "Assuming the committee placed that team here in the first
place," Ikari corrected.
      ~True, the committee and their spokesmen aren't the same,~
Kaji thought and considered the implications.
      "The entirety of the situation concerns me.  Is this a diversion
from something else?"  Ikari gestured at the Sephiroth, indicating
its many hidden meanings.
      "I haven't found anything," Kaji said, "But I'll look into the
chance that someone . . . or something, is trying to distract us
from its real objective.  I'll also check to make sure that they
haven't already succeeded."  He made a list of sources, and what
would get back to the Committee through him.
      Ikari nodded, dismissing him.
      As Kaji walked down the corridor, he hid his own smile.
~He'll never see the truth until it's right on top of him,~ Kaji
thought, ~Then it will be too late.~
------------------------------