= = = =
                                   T E N

                            A Ranma  1/2 Fanfic

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

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

                             CHAPTER  FOURTEEN
                                "Seraphim"
                              = = = = = = = =

Ukyo stared at the light before her, her lifeless body unable to do 
anything else.  She felt a profound numbness, a pronounced lack of feeling
so intense it was in itself a deeply disturbing sensation.  Fighting off
the ever growing urge to close her eyes, she focused on the faint memories
in her mind, their elusive images remaining just beyond her grasp.

She could see her sword - Seriatim.  It was hers and hers alone, and yet
she could not reach out to grasp it.  There was a wall of ice between them,
an unbreakable barrier that froze her body with its touch.  It glowed 
fiercely with a bright white light and called helplessly out to her,
beckoned her toward it; however, she could not move.  

Its screams became more frantic, more desperate.  A powerful longing grew 
within her, an unbearable compulsion to be with the sword.  She turned her
head away, unable to bear it any longer.  Slowly, the sword's glow faded
from her sight, but not her mind. 

What's going on?

Distorted images of the world around her flashed past her eyes and she 
stared - thoughtless, motionless, breathless, recognising none of the
places as they whirled past her eyes in a blur.  Faster and faster they 
passed by, a vague sense of nausea prickling at the edge of her 
consciousness.  She tried to ignore it, utterly incapable of doing anything 
else about it.

Where am I?

Her eyes slammed shut of their own volition, her mind reeling as it tried
to cope with the sudden onset of dizziness.  Was she falling?  She didn't
know.  She tried to move, to breathe, to open her eyes once more, but she
could not.  All of her senses had abandoned her, leaving her utterly alone 
in the shadow.

She frantically tried to figure out what was going on, why she could not 
move, but the more she tried the less she could remember.  The darkness
enveloped not only her body but her mind.  As it closed in upon her, a 
sudden, chilling question gripped her:

Who am I?

The question faded into the nothingness, echoes tumbling into the void.  A
strong, euphoric calm washed over her, her feelings of helplessness turning
into a sense of liberation; freedom from sight, from sound, from all sense
of the world around her.  She wondered, for a moment, if she were dead.

Just then a bright flash of light filled the void around her, a dazzling 
explosion of white that threatened to overload her senses.  She saw, or 
perhaps imagined, the face of a girl within that light, a smiling girl with
shimmering blue hair, whose eyes shone with a strong, fierce presence.

You ... I know you ... you're ....

The light of recollection burst forth from her mind, a stunning epiphany, 
and for just a moment - a single heartbeat, a gasp of surprise - her mind
awoke and ... she remembered.

She remembered.

Everything.

* * *

Ukyo awoke with a start, jumping upwards to a sitting position - or, at 
least, trying to.  The firm restraints holding her to the table prevented 
her from doing anything other than almost snapping her wrists.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," came Ryoga's voice, his face appearing out of nowhere.
"Calm down, you're okay."

"What ... where?" Ukyo asked, bewildered.  She looked up at Ryoga, willing
her eyes to focus.  He looked down at her, smiling, although his eyes 
carried a hint of concern.  

"You're in the recovery ward.  You're fine, although you gave me a real 
scare," Ryoga said quietly, and she felt his hand squeeze hers.  "You
reacted badly to the anaesthetic.  It was pretty close there for a while."

She glanced around the room - it was a sterile-looking laboratory, bathed 
in fluorescent white light.  They were alone, the remaining beds in the 
room remaining unused.

Slowly lowering her body to the bed beneath her, she took several deep 
breaths and tried to gather herself.  She concentrated, and managed to will
her fingers to return Ryoga's gesture.  He smiled, obviously noticing her
efforts.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, throat dry.  She forced herself to swallow, and
grimaced at the burning sensation at the back of her throat.  It felt as 
though her mouth had been scrubbed clean with a wire brush.  

"No need to apologise," he replied, laughing a little.  The relief in his 
voice was obvious to Ukyo, even in her groggy state.  "Are you feeling 
okay?  Any dizziness or nausea?"

"I'm okay," she replied, lightly shaking her head.  She narrowed her eyes, 
trying to filter out the incessant flickering of that damnable light.  
"Just feeling a little weak."

"That's to be expected.  You'll be on your feet in no time," Ryoga assured.
He glanced over his shoulder, then leaned closer and whispered, "I'm glad
to see you again."

She smiled weakly despite a sharp, nagging pain that ran up and down her
back.  She was glad to see him too.  A flood of memories washed over her; 
the conversation with Ryoga, the procedure to implant the secondary stage 
of Seraph Wing, the powerful anaesthetic ... the dreams.

"I had a dream," she croaked, causing Ryoga's eyebrow to rise.

"What kind of dream?"

"I can't remember," she replied, sullen.  The dream had faded from her mind
the moment she awoke, leaving behind only glimpses of what it had held. 
She tried to concentrate, to recall what had occupied her mind only moments
before, but could not piece the puzzle together.  She sighed.  "All I 
remember is a sword ... my sword.  What happened to my sword?"

"Your sword?" Ryoga asked, his voice a whisper as he leaned even closer. 
He glanced over his shoulder again, and only returned his attention to her
after he was satisfied they were alone.  "I -knew- they weren't telling me
everything.  They said you were unarmed when they found you; they didn't 
tell me anything about a sword."

"I had a sword ... before," Ukyo replied in a whisper, Ryoga's unease 
awakening her own nervousness.  She glanced about the room as well, 
wondering just what he had been looking for.  "It was called Seriatim."

"Seriatim?" Ryoga replied, a puzzled tone to his voice.  He scratched his
cheek in a moment of thoughtful consideration.  "I've heard that name 
somewhere before."

"I have to get it back."

"Why?" Ryoga asked, glancing about once more.  "What's so important about 
it?"

"I ... I don't know," Ukyo admitted, deflating with a sigh.  "I can't
remember.  I just know that I have to have it.  Please, Ryoga."

"Alpha Team brought you aboard, anything they carried with you would have
been stowed in a military lockup.  I don't have access to any of the 
secured sections of the sub," Ryoga replied, with a shake of his head.  

Ukyo fixed him with a plaintive glance, and he quickly wilted.  

"I'll see what I can do," he offered diplomatically.  "For you."

"Thank you," Ukyo said gratefully.  "It means a lot to me."

A hiss filled the room as a nearby door slid open and Ryoga shot back up 
into a standing position, his conspiratorial whispering replaced with a 
clearly audible declaration:

"Well, you seem to be doing fine.  It's important that you try to get some 
sleep, give your body a chance to recover.  I'll check on you in a few 
hours."

She nodded in response, reading the meaning in his eyes: play along.  She
cleared her throat and replied with a simple, "Thank you."

Colonel Hunter stepped through the open door and turned to them both, 
fixing her with a critical gaze.  He spoke, clearly addressing Ryoga 
although his eyes did not leave her.

"Is she ready to be moved?"

"Not yet," Ryoga replied with a shake of his head.  "Her nervous system 
will need time to readjust to the new implants.  If you try to move her now
you will cause irreparable damage."

"How long?" Hunter asked, finally shifting his gaze to Ryoga.

"A few hours.  Yoiko will be coming by in an hour or so to brief her on the
implants we've installed, but other than that I'd like to keep her 
isolated.  It will speed the recovery process."

"She needs to begin Wing training as soon as possible, Ryoga.  These delays
are unacceptable."

"I understand, however, she won't be able to do -any- kind of training if
her spinal column ruptures."

Hunter narrowed his eyes, a glimmer of irritation briefly showing through.
It was quickly banished, replaced by a calm expression.  "Very well.  I
want an update at oh-seven-hundred."

"Of course," Ryoga replied with a nod.  He waited until Hunter had left, 
and the door had locked into place, then turned to Ukyo.  "I'll be back.  
Keep very still, or they might get funny ideas about throwing you back into
training."

* * *

Yoiko Hibiki massaged her temples gently as she stared at the contents of
her workstation's screen.  The diagrams and figures were beginning to blur
together.  A migraine prowled at the fringes of her mind, a predator ready
to pounce any minute.  She sighed and glanced at her watch.  She'd been on
duty for twelve hours, and with the sudden rush in the Seraph Wing project
she did not know when she would get a chance to sleep.  

Her task for the day was to review data from the implant procedure that had
taken place the previous day.  There was a seemingly-endless pile of the
stuff that refused to grow any smaller no matter how hard she worked.  Most
of it was tedious, matching the projected values perfectly.  Every now and
then she would notice a small spike, which was dutifully recorded and 
catalogued.  It was a horrifically boring job, but it had to be done and 
she was the one to do it.

A strong craving for coffee struck her, and for a moment she sat smacking
her lips as she weighed up her options.  On one hand, a cup of coffee would
do wonders for her mood and her work throughput.  On the other hand, she 
knew that there would be a crowd of tedious lab staff clustered around the
coffee machine; there always was.  An annoying group of small-minded lab
assistants, machinists and engineers who liked nothing better than to stand
around and talk about the events of their unimportant days in minute 
detail.

Gods, they'd put me to sleep before I got anywhere near the caffeine, she
thought gloomily.  It's not worth it.

She liked talking about her own work, she admitted guiltily to herself, but
listening to those boring co-workers of hers talk about -their- work was, 
in her opinion, the earthly equivalent of purgatory.  At least her work was
-interesting-.  

Well, it's -usually- interesting.  She glanced at her monitor and wished 
for an interesting assignment, something to break the tedium.

"Hey, Yoiko."

"Yeah?" she asked, lifting her head.  Her brother stood on the opposite 
side of her desk, an uneasy expression on his face.  She regarded him for a
moment.  He had become increasingly listless and preoccupied over the past
few weeks.  Certainly, the Seraph Wing project could be directly blamed for
his change in demeanour.  

The project was all-consuming for him; it was not a job, it was a mission.
She was the first to admit it was an exciting project.  She had enjoyed 
every moment of it.  Everything, from the initial design meeting to her 
first conversation with Ukyo, had been enjoyable.  Where she tried to 
enjoy herself, Ryoga tended to stress his way through the day. Still, he
looked even more stressed than he usually did.

"Whoa, Ryoga, you look as tired as I feel," she said, eyeing his ragged
clothes and weary face.  She smiled sweetly and tilted her head in the
direction of the coffee machine.  "Maybe you should get a drink.  Hey, you
could get me one too."

"Not now," he said with a shake of his head.  He glanced behind himself,
then stepped around to her side of the desk.  "I need to ask a favour."

"What?" she asked, sitting up in surprise.  Ryoga was definitely acting out
of character now; something was up.  "What is it?"

"I want you to hack into the military subnet and get some information for
me."

"You want me to WHAT?" she squeaked, colour draining from her face.  

"Shh!" Ryoga hissed, glancing around as he slapped a hand over her mouth. 
"Keep your voice down!"

Yoiko's workstation was, thankfully, situated in a relatively isolated 
corner of the laboratory.  She was a jack-of-all-trades, assisting the 
system administrator as well as her big brother.  This meant a multitude of
perks; a relatively private location where her activities could not easily 
be observed by the average user was one example.  

"Why on Earth would you want to do -that-?  They military net has nothing 
to do with us!" Yoiko said as Ryoga removed his hand, her voice lowered.  A
pair of researchers walked by, guiding a trio of assistants as they carried
a heavy piece of equipment, a jumble of cables and metal sheets, toward the
far side of the lab.

Ryoga waited until they were gone before speaking.  "I need to find out 
what Alpha brought aboard with Ukyo.  I don't have the necessary clearance,
but I know you can get in without being detected."

"I could get in trouble," Yoiko insisted, glancing over Ryoga's shoulders 
at a nearby scientist.  The man peered at her for what felt like too long 
before returning to his work.  She let out a sigh of relief; it seemed 
Ryoga's nervousness was contagious.  

"I know you can get in anonymously.  It's me that'll get into trouble, not 
you," Ryoga insisted.  "Do it from someone else's workstation if you have 
to.  Just make sure it's done, and leave the consequences to me."

"I dunno, Ryoga," Yoiko said with a sigh.  The laboratory was packed with 
research staff and their assistants; this was hardly the place to be having
such a conversation.  "It wouldn't be right."

"The military thinks it can keep me out of the loop just because I'm not in
a uniform anymore.  I just want to know what's going on, is all.  They're 
not telling us everything.  I have a feeling there's a lot more to this
than it seems."

"You expect me to believe that?" Yoiko asked with a shake of her head.  "I
know you too well for that line to work on me.  What did Ukyo say to 
convince you to break the rules like this?"

"There's something about this ... Seriatim.  I know I've heard the name
before.  It has to mean something."

"Seriatim?"

"Come on, Yoiko, I know you can do it.  You're the only one I can trust."

"Of -course- I can do it, I'm just not sure if it's a good idea," Yoiko
countered.  She lowered her voice further.  "I mean, the security around 
those logs is going to be pretty intense."

"If anyone can get past it, you can.  It's not such a big deal.  I just 
want to look, that's all.  I'll be back soon to check up on it, okay?"

She sighed, defeated.  "Fine.  You owe me one," she called after her 
brother as he left.  Shaking her head, she muttered to herself, "Hell, you
owe me about ten for this."  

"You're the best, Yoiko," Ryoga enthused, flashing her a grin as he spun on
his heels and started toward the door.  He called over his shoulder, 
"Thanks!"

"Be careful what you wish for, Yoiko," she said to herself as she started
tapping at her keyboard.

* * *

Colonel Jonathan Hunter leaned back in his chair, resting his chin upon the
back of one hand as he considered the situation.  He always enjoyed 
returning to his office; it was his sanctuary, a calm haven away from the
constant struggle of commanding soldiers.  He closed his eyes and enjoyed 
the quiet, trying to ignore the voice in his mind that reminded him such 
solitude never lasted for very long aboard a submarine.

A buzzing noise filled his office; repetitive and insistent, drilling into
his eardrums.  He sighed, and opened his eyes again.

Damn it.

Leaning forward, he tapped the flashing button upon his desk.  The 
communication channel opened with a familiar chirp, but the display screen
stayed uncharacteristically blank.  He stared for a moment at it before 
noticing the small flashing words in the lower left corner of the screen.

Audio only.  Great; it's the boss.

"Give me an update, Colonel," came the voice of his employer, gravelly and
deep.  It belonged to a man he did not know, a member of the council he had
never met - employer anonymity was one of the conditions of his contract.
Hunter's inherent distrust continually nagged him about such an 
arrangement, but he had been instructed by his superiors in the military 
that this man was to be looked after, and he was not one to disobey orders.

"Everything is proceeding smoothly," he said, leaning back in his chair 
once again.  "We are on schedule."

"And the Wing?"

"The second phase has been successfully implanted.  The subject is resting 
now; she will begin Wing combat training tomorrow morning."

"Good.  No complications, I presume?"

"None," Hunter replied.  One half of him objected to this continual 
babysitting; he was a man of his own means, he did not need this stranger
peering over his shoulder.  The other half reminded him that his current 
employer was far less of an irritant than some of his COs had been.  "We 
are currently enroute to Okinawa as planned."

"No, you're not."

"I beg your pardon?" Hunter asked, taken by surprise.

"There has been a change of plans.  The Captain has been instructed to 
divert the Leviathan Spring to Hokkaido."

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Hunter asked, unable to completely conceal
his anger at being left out of the loop.

"Irrelevant.  You are being informed now.  Once you arrive, you will 
receive further instructions.  Have the Wing ready."

"Understood," Hunter replied, irritated.  He knew better than to argue.

There was another chirp, and the channel was closed.  Hunter scowled and 
stroked his chin, pondering this development.  He was being well 
compensated for this babysitting mission, but his employer's annoying 
nature made him wonder if he was being compensated well enough.

* * *

"So, what have you got?" Ryoga asked, his face startling Yoiko as it popped
into view over her monitor.  

"Don't sneak up on me like that," she groused.  He disarmed her with a 
smile, and she beckoned him over.  "C'mere, look at this."

Ryoga walked around behind her and leaned in over her shoulder, peering at
the contents of her screen.  She awaited his reaction and was suitably 
rewarded when he gave a low whistle, obviously impressed.

"Sundry personal items transported aboard the Leviathan Spring include 
clothing, three small pouches containing gunpowder, two throwing knives and
one sword," Yoiko read from the screen, pointing at each item as she listed
it.  "All were stored in secure locker A47."

"Damn it," Ryoga breathed.  "I don't have security access to those lockers.
If it were in a 'B' locker, or a 'C' locker, maybe - but they're not going
to let me near an 'A' without a good reason."

"You'd never get anywhere without me," Yoiko commented, with an exaggerated
roll of her eyes.  She held up a piece of paper, which Ryoga took and began
to read.

"It turns out that you need to do some DNA analysis on Ukyo's personal 
belongings, as we believe there may be blood from another source on them,"
Yoiko said with a devious smile upon her face.  "That work order will get 
you into that locker without a problem.  Came straight from the Colonel
himself, so you won't get asked any tricky questions.  Oh, yeah - the code 
for locker A47 is 3392.  Don't forget it."

"This is impressive," Ryoga said, admiring Yoiko's handiwork.  "I'd never
guess it was fake if I didn't know better.  You've really done your 
homework here.  Nicely done."

"What else did you expect?"  Yoiko said, flashing a smile.  "I do quality
work - that's why they hired me."

* * *

Ryoga wiped sweat from his palms onto his lab coat as he waited for the 
sentry to finish reading the work order.  Yamaguchi was the sentry's name,
according to his name tag, anyway.  Ryoga could not recall seeing the man
before, but then soldiers came and soldiers went aboard the Spring, it did
not surprise him to see ones he didn't recognise.

How long can it take to read that?  Does he suspect something?  Gods, maybe
this was a bad idea after all.  He has to suspect something.  Come on 
already, say something!  

He fidgeted as the large, heavy-set soldier pored over the work order.  It 
was a simple, one-page document; it was worrying in the extreme that it was
taking so long to be accepted.  Either the guard was stupid, or suspicious.
Ryoga hoped with all his heart for the former. 

The perpetually puzzled look upon Yamaguchi's face gave him hope.  It was 
obvious that the duty of guarding a room tasked this man; the unexpected
arrival of a visitor was clearly too much for him.

"I think I'd better call and confirm this order," Yamaguchi said at length,
obviously struggling with its content.

"I think we both know that isn't necessary," Ryoga replied, playing it 
cool.  

Since the incident that cost him the use of his leg, Colonel Hunter had 
taken Ryoga under his metaphorical wing.  Discharged from military service,
he was given what was seen by the remaining troops as an easy posting in 
the research department.

This had the side-effect of casting him forever in the role of Colonel's 
lackey with the majority of the soldiers.  It was an unfair and unfounded 
assumption on the part of the troops, one he loathed; but on this occasion,
he hoped to take advantage of it.

"I guess not," Yamaguchi conceded.  It had taken him a long time to decide 
to call for clarification; Ryoga's objection had obviously sent him into a 
tailspin.  "You're pretty friendly with the Colonel after all."

"Wasting his time with this is just going to get him pissed off at you,"
Ryoga said in agreement, with a very convincing nod of his head.  "You 
probably don't want to get the CO mad at you, y'know?"

"Yeah ... yeah.  You're right.  Okay, you can go in," Yamaguchi said at 
last, returning the paper to Ryoga.  "Just don't make a mess."

"Don't worry.  Nobody'll even know I was there," Ryoga replied with a 
smile.

* * *

Secure Block A was an unexpectedly large room, imbued with a surprisingly
dank and musty atmosphere despite the fluorescent lights overhead and the
gaping ventilation ducts that lined the floor.  The incessant drone of air
circulation fans was far louder than at any other place Ryoga had been - 
perhaps due to the lack of other noises to distract him from it.

Row upon row of sleek metal squares lined the walls of the room, each 
identified with a small number that was engraved into the metal above a
small keypad.  It was a similar layout to Secure Block B and C, although 
neither of those rooms had keypads upon the lockers.  This room, Block A,
was obviously intended for the most sensitive of information.

Why would clothes and a sword warrant such security?

There was a small railing along the floor in front of the lockers, and at
each corner of the room a ladder stood, mounted upon the rail.  Gripping
the ladder, Ryoga marched to locker A17 and peered upwards.  The first 
digit referred to the row, the second the column.  He gave silent thanks
that he only had to climb three rows; climbing a ladder with only one 
fully operational leg was no mean feat.

A swift kick locked the ladder's feet into place, preventing it from 
sliding side to side during his ascent.  He leaned his cane against locker
A17 and, after only a moment's hesitation, hoisted himself up onto the 
ladder.

It was a slow, arduous climb - the combination of an unstable leg and 
sweaty palms almost proving his downfall on several occasions - but after 
a relatively short time he managed to clamber up to the fourth row.  It was
a testament to his upper body strength that he was able to climb a ladder
at all; his shattered leg left him with only his arms to pull himself 
upwards, relegating his remaining leg to a supporting role.

He took a moment to catch his breath as he looked at locker A47, an 
innocuous and unremarkable locker that for all intents and purposes was 
identical to every other locker in the room.  They all held their secrets,
he knew, but it was 47's turn to reveal its treasures to him.

3-3-9-2.

Each digit he entered resulted in a pleasant beep from the keypad, its 
software apparently satisfied with his input.  There was a loud clunk as 
the locking mechanism disengaged and a quiet hiss as the hydraulic 
mechanism slowly slid the locker open for him.

The metal door was one side of a long, rectangular drawer, the interior the
same metallic silver as the exterior, save for 'A47' marked in military
green paint on the rear side.  With a 'thunk', the drawer locked into the
open position.  He let out a sigh of relief and silently thanked Yoiko for 
providing him the correct code.  

Hooking his foot around the ladder to hold himself steady, he leaned over
the drawer and peered down at its contents.  The interior seemed cavernous
and its contents meagre; a set of clothes lay neatly folded in the rear, 
with the two throwing knives - sharp and polished to reflect the 
fluorescent lights with an impressive shine - placed atop them.

Three brown pouches lay in front of the clothes, seemingly made from a
thick canvas.  Each was tied off at the top with a thin string, a length of
which protruded a short distance - a simple fuse.  A primitive grenade, he
realised, admiring Ukyo's resourcefulness.  Perhaps this girl really was
cut out to be a soldier after all ....

Casting such thoughts aside, he reached across and grasped the sword that
lay against the far wall of the drawer.  He knew very little about swords,
having only ever held one in his life, and that only for a brief moment, 
but even with his lack of experience he was instantly aware of just how 
-light- this sword was.  He lofted the weapon, still contained in its 
scabbard, and peered closely at it.  The weight was barely discernible; it 
was as light as a feather.

"Strange," he commented to himself, looking up and down the length of the
scabbard.  Its upper half was covered in an ornate spiral design, intricate
detail carved into the casing, but the lower half was bare and featureless.
The handle felt warm in his hand, its presence alone filling him with a 
vague nervousness.  

There was ... something unusual about the sword.  It grew warmer the 
tighter he gripped it, as if it were urging him on.  A compelling curiosity
filled him - why was this sword hidden from scrutiny?  Why had none of the
analysis staff been told of its existence?  Why was he violating a dozen
regulations and ignoring security protocol to get a look at it? He might 
have done such a thing a few years ago, before the incident, but in his 
recent life he had calmed, become more conservative.  Why, then, was he 
going to such lengths for her?  Was it to satisfy her curiosity or his own?

Both, he decided.  It was a safe answer, and one that allowed him to push
the question aside.  Slowly, cradling the sword with all the care one might
a newborn baby, he tugged it slightly from its scabbard.

A furious white light burst free from within the scabbard, a tremendous 
pulse that seemed to rock the room itself with sheer force.  A horrified,
wailing scream filled the air, a piercing cry that sent Ryoga reeling.  He
swayed wildly back and forth on the ladder, every instinct commanding him 
to escape from the painful light and sound; but the light was so bright he
could not see his hands to sheath the weapon.

The ladder toppled forward, its once-sturdy metal crumpling under the sheer
weight of the sonic onslaught.  Ryoga cried out as his support gave way,
his body tumbling to the floor below.  Fortune was on his side; the sword 
fell from his grasp and landed handle-first, the impact driving it home and
sealing away the horrors within.  He fell hard to the ground, the impact
driving the air from his lungs.

The sword balanced perfectly upon its end for what seemed like an age 
before finally tipping over and clattering harmlessly to the floor below.  

His ears rung from the noise, his eyes watered from the sheer intensity of 
the light, and his mind swam in a nauseating dizziness.  He lay completely 
still, breathing raggedly, forcing air into his lungs.  Slowly his senses
returned to him, and he tried to explain to himself what he had just seen.
Try as he might, though, he could only conjure up two words.

"Holy shit."

* * *

Yoiko tapped idly at her keyboard and let out a sigh.  The screen saver had
come on again.  It had been almost forty minutes since Ryoga had left.  The
task he'd set her was simple and she had accomplished it easily, but there
was a nagging thought that lingered in the back of her mind, clawing at the
edge of her consciousness.  Guilt, perhaps, or worry.  

She knew the systems onboard the Spring very well, but there were 
classified areas she knew nothing about.  One of those areas - the
inventory and access logs for Secure Block A - was no longer a mystery to 
her.  She had broken in with ease, and taken a copy of the file.  It had 
only taken a few seconds, and the precautions she had taken meant the 
transaction was untraceable.  

She was an expert; she knew it, she believed it, and yet she still wondered
if she had made a mistake, if she had left behind some clue, some oversight
that would cost her, perhaps her whole career.  She had long erased the
file, but she couldn't shake the feeling that a flag had been raised 
somewhere, that someone knew what she had done.

Her phone rang, startling her.  She clasped her hand to her chest and 
swallowed, a sense of dread flooding into her body.  Part of her expected 
the voice at the other end to be that of security, enquiring as to the 
reason her terminal had accessed a restricted area.  Her imagination leapt
to action, filling her mind with images of burly security guards 
surrounding her cubicle, pointing high-calibre weaponry at her.

A shaky hand gripped the phone receiver and slowly, cautiously, lifted it
to her ear.

"Hibiki," she said, as formally as possible given the shaking of her voice.

"Yoiko, it's me."

Ryoga, she thought, a wave of relief crashing over her whole body.  She 
slumped back into her chair and let out a long sigh, raising her other hand
to her forehead as she closed her eyes.  Relief was quickly followed by 
irritation.

"You scared me to death," she hissed.  "What took so long?" 

"Listen to me very carefully, Yoiko.  That sword is no ordinary sword."

"What happened?" she asked, her curiosity rising.  He sounded really 
disturbed; frightened, even.  "What is it?" 

"I ... I don't know.  It's big.  Gods, it's big.  Yoiko, I ... I saw ...."

"Calm down," she said, as soothingly as she could manage given her own
frayed nerves.  She could hear his strained breath.  "Ryoga, you have to
calm down."

"You don't understand," he replied, pulling himself together.  "I had to 
get it out of there.  I couldn't just leave it where it was.  I've got it
with me now."

"What?!" Yoiko yelped, jolting to an upright position.  The phone channel
was encrypted - they all were aboard the sub - but she suddenly felt as 
though every eye in the laboratory was upon her, that everyone in the sub
had heard; that by merely hearing the words her brother spoke she had 
somehow already committed the crime.  

"I don't have time to explain, Yoiko.  There's something about this sword -
I can't leave it locked away in that drawer.  I have to find out more about
it.  I need you to access the inventory of A47 and remove the sword from 
the list. If it stays in the inventory, they're going to notice it's 
missing."

"You have got to be kidding.  You have GOT to be kidding," Yoiko stammered,
unable to piece together a coherent counterargument.  Entering to look was
one thing - but modifying military logs?  That was grounds for ... she did
not even want to imagine the punishment for such a crime.  "You TOOK it?"

"I'm not kidding.  You'll have to modify the deposit logs for that drawer
too."

"Even if I do, they're still going to notice sooner or later."

"I know, Yoiko, I know.  I had no choice.  I just need some time to think."

"The Colonel told me to head to the recovery ward to bring the final phase 
online.  He wants me to introduce Ukyo to the personality. He's going to
find out if I stay here to mess with logs."

"What?  Why?" he asked, surprised.  "She's supposed to activate the 
personality herself.  Why are you doing it manually?  It could undermine 
the whole process if she doesn't discover it herself!"

"I don't know," Yoiko replied, resting her forehead in one hand.  She let 
out a breath, pleased to have jolted her brother back to some semblance of 
normalcy.  "They've put the process on the fast track, and I don't know 
why.  I've just been told to do it, so that's what I'm going to do.  I was
worried you wouldn't call before I left."

"Damn it," Ryoga replied, frustration evident in his voice.  "That could
lead to complications.  I guess we have no choice but to proceed as
instructed.  Be careful, okay?"

"You're not coming?"

"I can't.  Not with ... not with this thing.  This is more important than
Seraph Wing, Yoiko.  Can you handle things on your own for a while?"

She felt a nervous sweat upon her brow; her whole face felt drenched, she 
was sure someone would notice any moment.  "I guess, Ryoga."

"See what you can do to cover my tracks for a few minutes, then head to the
ward.  I told Ukyo I'd be back soon.  Tell her I'm going to be a couple of
hours.  You can do a more comprehensive delete when you get back.  As long
as you can throw up some kind of cover, I should be okay." 

"What are you planning to do?"

"I ... I can't explain.  The personality should keep you both busy for a 
while.  I'll come to the recovery ward in an hour or two.  I'll explain it
to you then."

"Okay, I gue--" she began, but stopped as the phone line went dead.  She
lowered the receiver back into its cradle with fingers that had long since
gone white and numb.  

More important than Seraph Wing?  Nothing was more important than Seraph
Wing - not to him.  It had been the singular focal point of his life for
two years.  What on Earth could be more important?

What the hell is going on, Ryoga?

* * *

Ukyo sighed and stared up at the ceiling above her bed.  The EKG monitor
near her bed bleeped with irritating regularity, each sound drilling into 
her head, worsening her headache.  She had been lying absolutely still for 
- she didn't even know how long.  There was an alarm clock on the table 
near her bed, but she couldn't turn her head to look at it.

Where are you, Ryoga?

He had been gone for what felt like an age.  She knew beyond the faintest
glimmer of a doubt that he would do what he had said, that he would return
with her Seriatim.  She trusted him implicitly, instinctively.  He was a 
good person.  He would do what he said he would.  It was just a matter of 
time.  Always a matter of time.

Many times over the course of her stay she had considered making an escape.
The soldiers, while well-trained and well-armed, were nowhere near her 
level of skill, speed or strength.  The gap was so large she had taken to 
deliberately making mistakes, purposefully holding herself back during 
training exercises so as not to reveal too much about herself.

Compared to her, they were slow, clumsy, and weak.  They all were.  She was
beginning to understand why nearly everyone aboard regarded her with such 
apprehension.  Fortunately, there were those who did not treat her with 
suspicion.

Her thoughts returned to Ryoga.  It was because of him that she had stayed.
He was ... a friend.  He trusted her and she trusted him.  It was a strange
feeling, a subtle warmth that infused her thoughts of him.  She had never 
had a friend before.  At some base level she wanted to please him, to do 
what he asked, simply to remain his friend.  

Am I really so simple?

She sighed.  She had stayed aboard the submarine, she had allowed them to 
implant any number of electronic implants into her body.  She had allowed 
them to experiment upon her, to study her, to poke and prod and observe 
her.  Because of him.  For him.  

I suppose I am.

If she were to escape from this endless experimentation, would he come with
her?  Of course not - the very thought was ludicrous.  While she knew she
could survive a swim to the surface, he most certainly could not.  Even if 
they did make it, where would they go?  

No.  He promised her that he would take care of her, and that they would 
lead her to Ranma.  That was all that mattered.  She trusted him - she
would stay.

There was a hiss and a thunk; then the patter of footsteps upon the metal
floor of the ward.  Ukyo narrowed her eyes and listened.  The footsteps 
were light, quiet.  Too small to be Ryoga.  No, that was ....

"Yoiko."

"How did you know?" came Yoiko's voice, full of surprise.

"I just knew," Ukyo replied, a smile quirking her face.  Her instincts had
served her well on the hunt.  Identifying Yoiko by her footsteps was 
child's play.

She appeared in Ukyo's view, a curious expression on her face.  "I've been
told to brief you on the new components we've added to the Seraph Wing."

"Oh?" Ukyo asked, rolling her eyes downward to glance at the girl.  She 
watched as Yoiko placed a small, metallic briefcase upon her recovery bed.
The girl was nervous, it seemed.  Ukyo wondered for a moment what had 
unnerved the girl so.

"Yeah.  I, uh," Yoiko paused and glanced behind her before continuing in a 
hushed tone, "I spoke to Ryoga too.  He said he would be a couple of 
hours."

Ukyo nodded, but said nothing.  "So, what have you added?"

Yoiko blinked, a look of irritation flashing across her features as she
realised her unasked question would go unanswered.  "Well, we've implanted
the external Frame, which extends and amplifies the energy field emitted by
the internal Core."

"What does that mean?" Ukyo asked evenly.  She knew Yoiko enjoyed her 
technical jargon, but for now wanted her answers in layman's terms.

"You already saw the shield effect of the Wing, right?" Yoiko asked.  Ukyo
nodded, and the girl continued.  "By itself, the Core can only project a 
weak field around you, and only about five millimetres away from your skin.
The Frame is an amplifier, which boosts the effectiveness of the shield 
as well as allowing you a measure of control over it."

"It stopped a bullet, and you call that weak?" Ukyo asked, incredulous.

"The primary energy shield could stop a bullet, sure.  It could probably
stop a dozen or so before it overloaded.  Once you run that shield through 
the Frame, though, you could hold back the gods themselves," Yoiko said 
with a proud smile.  "Here, look at this."

Ukyo nodded and let Yoiko take hold of her left arm.  The arm was turned
slightly, bringing the elbow and outer edge into view.  A thin black line,
a plastic seam, ran the length of her arm, only to disappear into her 
wrist, its end marked by a small circular plug that extruded slightly from
her skin.

"What the hell is that?" Ukyo asked, suddenly disturbed by the fact she had
not even noticed the plug's presence.  She should have felt it.

"That is a Frame fibre.  It carries the signal from the Core, amplifies and
projects it outwards to create the shield.  The segment connects to other
fibres along your other arm, legs, torso, neck, and the back of your head.
It was quite a job to get THAT one put in without having to shave off half 
of your hair, let me tell you."

Ukyo raised her right hand toward the thin seam, and with a brief glance to
Yoiko for approval, gingerly placed the tips of her fingers upon it.  It
was smooth, cool, feeling very much like metal.  She bent her arm, and the
seam bent easily with it.

"It continues into your hand, but the fibres there are subdermal.  They
have to be, they're thinner in order to be more precise.  Far too thin to
be hanging around on your skin.  Especially given how much punching you
grunts tend to do."

Ukyo clenched her fist and released it, regarding her hand with 
apprehension.  She could feel no difference at all in her fingers as she
wriggled them back and forth.  If Yoiko had not told her of the fibre's 
presence, she would most likely never have known.

"What about the plug?" she asked as her right hand brushed against it.  She
lingered there for a moment, fingers lightly touching the smooth metal.

"That's a control port," Yoiko replied, her tone growing increasingly happy
at Ukyo's continued interest in her handiwork.  "The Wing is controlled by
a neural interface, but there is a control pad that attaches to your arm
just in case.  You never know, y'know?"

"A ... neural interface?" Ukyo asked, bewildered.

"Yeah.  You think, it acts.  It's designed to respond to your own thought
patterns, so if you start to think about protecting yourself then it will
respond in kind.  I can't tell you exactly how to control it, because you
know better than I do.  It's a personal thing."

"So I just ... will the shield into existence?"

"Exactly.  It sounds weird, I know, but it'll be second nature before you
know it.  It's designed to be.  You'll always have the control pad handy,
just in case, so you don't have anything to worry about."

"So where is this control pad?" Ukyo asked, fingering the port 
apprehensively.  She did not like this gadget protruding from within her.

"I've got it right here," Yoiko said.  She unlocked and opened the 
briefcase she had been carrying and from within it extracted what appeared
to be a black metal bracer.  With a gentle tap the bracer opened.  "Here,
give me your arm."

Ukyo nodded somewhat apprehensively and, after a moment's hesitation, 
raised her left arm toward the small girl.  The bracer was closed around
her wrist, where it locked into place with a cheerful chirping sound.  Ukyo
clenched her fist and felt the smooth, cool metal against her skin.

On the topmost side of the bracer was a small transparent panel, 
illuminated with a number of graphs, information and displays, glowing a
variety of pastel greens and oranges.

"Just one more thing to do," Yoiko said as she reached over and tapped a
small, virtual button upon the display.

-Greetings, Ukyo.-

Ukyo sat up with a start, eyes jolting wide as the voice snuck into her 
mind, seeming to come from just behind her ears.  She whirled around as 
best she could to see who was talking to her; however, there was nobody
there.  Slowly she turned to face Yoiko, who had a wide smile upon her 
face.

"I guess the personality has introduced itself," Yoiko said with a hint of
amusement. "Go on, say hello."

-Greetings, Ukyo,- repeated the voice, quiet, but firm.  It was a male 
voice, a voice that seemed somehow familiar.  -I am Seraph Wing.-

"H ... hello?" Ukyo spoke uncertainly, her face betraying her utter 
confusion.

-It is an honour to meet you, My Lady,- Seraph Wing said, its voice somehow
conveying the essence of a deep bow.  -I have been anticipating this moment
for some time.-

"Who ... what are you?" Ukyo asked, unsure of where to look.  It was 
distinctly unnerving to speak to a disembodied voice.

-You do not need to speak for your words to be clear,- Seraph Wing replied.
-Push your words toward me with your mind and I will hear them.-

-What are you?- Ukyo asked again, focussing the words as well she could. 
It was not quite thinking per se; it was a subtly different process, a 
supersensory to-and-fro of energy between herself and Seraph Wing that she
could perceive even though she did not know how she did so.

-I am one of many facets of the Core.  I am a twelfth-generation AI
construct, operating from a neural subprocessor implanted at the base of
your spine.  My function is to provide diagnostic information, tactical
updates, and any other form of assistance or advice I can render.  I am
Seraph Wing, and I am at your service.-

-I ... I don't understand.-

-How best can I put it?  Think of me as a guide.-

-A guide?-

-Allow me to demonstrate, My Lady.-

Ukyo's eyes widened as a flood of information filled her mind.  Suddenly
she became aware that the distance between herself and Yoiko was exactly 
1.72 metres, that the ambient temperature was 21.3 degrees Celsius, that
one of the fluorescent tubes overhead had developed a malfunction that 
caused a near-imperceptible flicker of dimness, forty times a second.

The information was not presented to her in any quantifiable sense; she
simply knew these things, as if she had always known them.  Closing her
eyes, she let the information wash over her.

There was a guard patrolling the corridor outside the ward.  His body 
temperature was slightly higher than his average, his muscles moved 
somewhat stiffly, his breath was ever-so-slightly laboured.  He was clearly
coming down with the flu, even if he did not know it himself just yet.  

There was a small security camera watching the guard, rotating through 
twenty-five degrees every ten seconds, oscillating back and forth to cover
the corridor.  The camera's tiny actuator clicked quietly, sending a small 
electric motor into action; it whirred quietly as it slowly panned the
camera through its angle of rotation, before slowing to a halt.  The noises
were quiet, but to Ukyo they were crystal clear.

Yoiko's breath was quickening, her heart was beating faster; Ukyo could 
perceive all of it.  The girl was excited to see what would come of Seraph 
Wing's activation, the physiological signs were a glowing neon light that 
illuminated her mental state quite clearly.

-Enough, enough,- Ukyo called, and the tsunami of information was reduced
to barely a trickle.  -I get the picture.  That was ... amazing.-

-Thank you, My Lady.-

"So what do you think of him?" Yoiko asked as Ukyo opened her eyes.

Ukyo let out a deep breath.  The sudden onslaught of information was like
nothing she had ever experienced before.  It was as though a second set of 
eyes had been opened to her, an acute sense of the world around her that
could describe in the most minute detail everything around her.  It was
nothing short of mindboggling. 

"I think ... wow."

* * *

Ryoga stared at the door.  He had been standing motionless for almost a 
minute, head laden with thoughts.  The sword was still in its scabbard,
clutched closely to his side, concealed within his lab coat.  To the casual
observer, it simply appeared as if his hand were in his pocket.  The weapon
was suffused with warmth, a pleasant tingle of heat in his hand that made 
him wonder just what he was about to return to Ukyo.  

He had, over the past two hours, run a dozen tests on the sword.  Each had
been met with failure.  He could only scan the scabbard; his memories of 
Storage Block A prevented him from trying to extract the blade from its 
shelter again.  He could not even determine what the blade was made of, let
alone what made it glow as it did.  The puzzle was intensely troubling to
him.  As a scientist it disturbed him immensely to abandon such a mystery
without solving it.  As a human being, he wanted to be rid of the sword as
soon as possible.

He had wrestled with his conscience ever since finding the blade.  How
could he steal such a thing from a secure lock-up and hand it over to Ukyo
without at least some knowledge of what it was?  It was no ordinary blade,
no ordinary weapon.  How could he arm her with such a thing?  Without the
slightest inkling of its purpose?

He had truly stepped into the lion's den.  Even with Yoiko's help, they
would discover his theft sooner or later.  There was bound to be security
camera footage; Yoiko would be able to delete it, but like the inventory
such tampering would eventually be noticed.  All he could do was to hope 
that, with Yoiko's assistance, he could stay one step ahead of them.

His resolve wavered; he could take the sword back, restore the logs, tell
Ukyo that he couldn't find the sword, and everything would be as it was.
Or perhaps he could take the sword to the laboratory and run further tests
on it; try to achieve something useful to offset the risk he was taking,
rather than just giving it to her.

Leaning more heavily upon his cane, he let out a sigh.  His mind screamed
at him to take the sword and examine it, study it, try to uncover its true
meaning and purpose.  His instincts compelled him to return the sword to
its resting place and put it out of his mind.  Despite all that, he knew he
had to keep his promise.  He had made the choice long ago; he knew he was
simply trying to rationalise that decision.

He -wanted- to give the sword to her, and any reason would do.  The sword
was hers.  Morally, returning it to its owner was the right thing to do.
That was rationalisation enough.  He had discovered as much about it as he
could on his own; he needed Ukyo's help to solve the mystery of the weapon.
That was motivation enough.

Steeling his jaw, he stepped forward, and the door hissed open.

* * *

Ukyo sat up as the door opened, and watched Ryoga step in, a surprised look
upon his face.  He moved swiftly into the room, letting the door close 
behind him before speaking.

"What are you doing sitting up?  I told you to be still!  What if it had 
been the Colonel coming to check on you?"

"I knew it was you," Ukyo replied.  

"You knew?"

"I knew you were standing there.  I could tell you were feeling either 
nervous or guilty, because you were sweating so much.  Your posture and the 
extra weight you're putting on your cane told me your leg is acting up 
today.  Hell, I recognised the smell of your breath, and knew you had tuna
for dinner," Ukyo said with a crooked, slightly uncomfortable smile.  "This
is scary stuff, Ryoga."

-I do not intend to frighten you, My Lady.-

"You're conversing with the personality already?" Ryoga asked, shooting 
Yoiko an impressed glance.  "You've been able to talk back to him?  For how
long?"

-I know.  This is just ... new to me, Seraph Wing.-

"Two hours, thirteen minutes, and .... twenty-five seconds, apparently,"
Ukyo replied.  "You said you'd be two hours.  You're late."

"She took to him like a duck to water," Yoiko said as Ryoga looked to her
in bewilderment.  "It surprised me too."

"This ... this is amazing," Ryoga stammered in astonishment.  He staggered 
toward Ukyo's bed and propped himself up against it.  "I thought it would
take weeks, not hours, for you to learn how to speak to him."

"Be careful," Ukyo admonished as Ryoga bumped her bed.  "You're going to 
drop it if you're not careful."

"Drop what?" Yoiko asked.

"The sword he's trying to hide under his coat," Ukyo explained.  She 
glanced at the weapon, which Seraph Wing automatically examined.  It 
reported the weapon's length as ninety-six centimetres from end to end, its
weight at a mere fifty grams.  A sense of confusion trickled through her 
brain.  It was not her own, and so she turned to Seraph Wing for an
explanation.

-I apologise,- Seraph Wing said.  -I am unable to ascertain the composition
of the weapon.  Its molecular structure is unknown.  It is far too light to
be a metal, of that I am certain.-

-I remember now.  I ... think I know what it's made of.  Gods, I think he's
seen it too.-

-My Lady?-

"Ryoga," she said quietly, giving the startled-looking boy a smile.  She 
reached out and took one of his hands.  "Thank you for getting my sword.  I
appreciate the risk you took."

"How did you know I--" Ryoga began, trailing off as Ukyo tapped the side of
her head with a fingertip.  He chuckled sheepishly and shook his head.  "Of
course."

"So," Yoiko said with a not-so-subtle hint of impatience, "what's the deal
with this sword?"

"I wish I knew," Ryoga said, finally withdrawing the weapon from the 
shelter of his lab coat.  "This thing scares the hell out of me.  I've run 
a dozen different tests on it and I don't know anything more than when I
started."

Ukyo reached out for the weapon, and after a moment's hesitation, Ryoga 
handed it to her.  She clasped his hand and nodded gratefully.  Finally, it
was in her hands again.  A sense of relief washed over her, an inexplicable
feeling of satisfaction.

"What can you tell me about it?" Ryoga asked, intense curiosity written
across his face.  His eyes followed the sword as she raised it.

"Not a lot," she admitted, gripping the weapon tightly.  "I just ... I just
know that it belongs to me.  I remember it being mine."

"So this is what the big fuss was about?" Yoiko asked incredulously.  "That
sword?"

"There's more to it than you think," Ryoga replied, giving Ukyo a knowing
glance.   

"Seriatim," she whispered, drawing the scabbard to her chest.

-Seriatim.  An unusual name.  Why did you name it so?-

-I didn't name it.  What does the name mean?-

-The word is derived from Latin speech.  It means, quite literally, 'one 
after another'.  If you did not name it, My Lady, who did?-

-I ... I don't know.-

"One after another," she said, running her hand along the scabbard's 
length.  She glanced up at Ryoga, who had an expectant look upon his face.
She knew merely by looking at him that he had been expecting something 
dramatic to happen the moment he handed the sword to her; that somehow all
of his questions would be answered.  She gave him a wan smile, unable to
offer any comfort.

She could not answer their questions.  Nor could she answer her own.

"Ukyo, I think it's for the best that you don't take it out of its 
scabbard until we understand it better," Ryoga said at length, obviously 
realising his questions would not be answered.  "The military guys don't
know you have it either, so keep it hidden."

"Okay," she said with a nod.  He was right; it was for the best to keep it
hidden and sealed.

"I'm going to study it, if you don't mind.  I'll be asking you some 
questions over the next few days.  I want to find out exactly what it's 
made of."

"Of course, anything you want," Ukyo replied with a nod.

"Can I see it?" Yoiko asked.

"No," Ryoga replied before Ukyo could.  "It's not coming out again."

"Why not?"

"It's probably for the best," Ukyo said, sharing a glance with Ryoga.  She
recognised the look in his eyes.  She had seen it many times before.  She
had no intention of inflicting that upon Yoiko.

* * *

Colonel Hunter frowned as he pored over the stacks of paper strewn across
his expansive desk.  Ship's operations reports, intelligence reports, duty
rosters and training programs were scattered left, right and centre, tossed
aside as he continued his search.  

He eventually reached the bottom of the pile, its final document a faded 
maintenance log detailing a routine service job on the aft power generation
unit undertaken over two months prior.  

"Damn it," he muttered.  Not a single reference to the course change.  No
details, no briefings, no discussions or meetings.  An order to divert the
sub that did not involve him could only have come from the Council, but he
could find no records regarding it.  A clandestine decision.  Presumably,
he was only informed because of the Wing.

There was no facility located in Hokkaido.  No real reason to visit there.
Particularly when such a visit interrupted the scheduled offloading of the
Council from the vessel.  The course change, the sudden acceleration of the
Seraph Wing integration, the change in training regime for Alpha and Bravo;
it all pointed to a singular conclusion.  He wanted to deny it, but he knew
it was true.

"They've found her.  Gods, they're taking Seraph Wing straight to Ranma."

He leaned back in his chair, the soft leather seeming unusually rough and
uncomfortable.  He was by no means a religious man, but even in his 
rational, logical mind he could not hold back a sense of inevitable, 
impending doom.  A cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

He would soon find out if the Wing was all that the Phoenix had promised it 
would be.  He hoped with all of his heart that it was.  Ranma had to be 
stopped.  An elder dragon spirit unleashed upon the world was not something
he dared to contemplate.

= = = =
 T E N
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