= = = =
                                T E N
 
                         A Ranma  1/2 Fanfic

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

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

                            CHAPTER  NINE
                           "The  Revenant"
                           = = = = = = = =

"... nominal, temperature rising to normal range, vital signs stabilising.
Everything looks good."

Ukyo let out a quiet groan as muffled voices swept into her mind, washing
away a blank void that she had not known existed until it was gone.  A 
sharp, surging pain coursed through her mind, bringing with it the 
realisation that her body was numb, unmoving.  She tried to force her eyes
open, but to no avail.

"Diagnostics of alpha and beta stages are green," came another voice,
female, unlike the first.  "We have a clean initialisation."

The words left little impression upon her, seeming little more than muffled
nonsense to her addled mind.  Where was she?  What was going on?

"Okay, crack the case - let's see how this goes."

"Yes, Sir.  Stand by for decompression; breaking the seal in five."

The words faded into silence, leaving only the thrum of machinery, but as
the seconds passed a quiet hissing noise became apparent.  A loud clunk 
shook Ukyo slightly, and the hissing quickly became a loud roar as hot air
rushed in around her from all sides.  Although she could not feel her body,
she was intensely aware of the heat, panic rising within her as she tried
to move away from it.

Before she could manage even to flinch, however, the wave of heat was 
subdued.  The loud wooshing sound disappeared, leaving behind only the 
quiet hissing. She managed somehow to swallow, and felt her ears pop.

A loud clunk resounded through the room from overhead, leaving Ukyo 
straining to tilt her head backwards toward the source of the noise.  Her
heart pounded powerfully against her chest, the staccato beat filling her
ears.

"Report," came the first voice, much clearer this time.  Ukyo found herself
able to focus upon the sound, to discern the words that were spoken.  The
voice was deep but gentle, the words spoken wearily but anxiously.

"We have a perfect break," the female answered, her words punctuated by 
intermittent beeping.  "Everything went smoothly.  She's semi-conscious.
The interface diagnostic will take a few moments to complete, but 
everything looks good so far."

"Impressive," came the male voice, much louder.  Ukyo felt a faint warmth 
upon her face, which she could only assume was the breath of the speaker.  
"You really -do- heal quickly.  If only we were all as capable."

A silent moment followed, the warmth of the man's breath upon her cheek 
ensuring she could feel his eyes boring into her, even if she could not 
see them.  Who the hell was this person?  What was he doing?  

Again, she tried to open her eyes, willed her body to move, respond in any
way, but was met with failure at every turn.  If she had been able to cry
out in frustration, confusion, she would have, but she was unable to do 
anything but lie there, limp and helpless.

A sharp pain jolted through her right side and she felt her body lurch of 
its own accord.  The first shock of pain was joined by another, and 
another, and soon it became a sharp, prickling patch of sensation along her
leg.

"Try to relax," came the man's voice.  "This won't take long."

Ukyo wanted to call out in pain, to tell this guy in no uncertain terms 
where he could stick his instructions, but she was powerless to do anything
but submit to their prodding.  She felt her facial muscles tighten, 
twisting her face in a grimace.  It was involuntary, but summed up her 
thoughts very accurately indeed.

"Diagnostic complete.  It took longer than I thought, but the first batch 
of tests is complete.  We can reseal the hatch."

"Good," the man replied, the proximity of his mouth to Ukyo's face sending
tingles down her spine.  Her body shivered reflexively, despite her 
attempts to stop it.  At least the pain had stopped.

"Sir, her heart rate's beginning to rise to dangerous levels.  We're 
nearing maximum tolerance levels - we need to put her back under."

"I know, I know," the man replied, annoyance in the words.  A silent moment 
passed before he spoke again, and with his words Ukyo felt the warmth of 
his hand pressing against hers.  "Welcome back, Miss Kuonji.  It's an 
honour to meet you at last."

"Okay, close it up," the man instructed, his sigh disappearing into the 
sudden whirr and hiss of hydraulic machinery.  There was a solid thunk, and
then, nothing.

* * *

She had tried, in the beginning, to speak; several attempts were made, but
her mouth refused to obey, her body steadfastly denying her mind's 
desperate pleas.  After a time she abandoned her attempts to speak, and
instead focused on listening, feeling, and sensing.

Many similar "tests" occurred; to Ukyo it seemed that the moment one test 
ended, the next would begin, but she eventually came to realise that she
was sleeping - or unconscious - for some amount of time between each one.
Every time, the voices and sounds were different, the tests were new, the
temperature was varied.  As the tests continued, she noticed that sensation
was gradually returning to her body.

Sometimes the doors opened and her skin prickled with goosebumps, others,
she could feel the droplets of sweat dripping agonizingly slowly down her
face, her hands unable to wipe them away.  She was in a constant state of
disorientation, the ever changing conditions instilling within her a 
perpetual state of panic, of utter confusion.

Her mind was endlessly probing, searching for clues, seeking a pattern, a
means to escape her confinement, anything.  The only constant was one 
particular voice - the male voice from her first "test".  Whenever the air
cleared and the hissing faded into silence, that voice was there, without
fail.

It was strange, the voice of this stranger somehow gave her comfort, a 
handhold upon reality.  When she heard this man speak, she knew that she 
was still in the real world, that she had not gone completely insane, that
despite the amorphous, bewildering nature of her existence, there was at 
least one constant.

Always there, always calm, always kind; comforting her, assuring her 
everything would be all right, reminding her that it would all be over 
soon. Were it not for that voice she would have assumed she was being 
tortured - but with his presence, she somehow knew that she was not in
danger.

It was not much, but it was something to cling to.  What else could she do?

* * *

It was the fifty-seventh test, by Ukyo's reckoning, when things changed in 
a drastic way.  Where there had once been a cacophony of sounds and
sensations masked by darkness, now, there was light.

It was not an overwhelming light; more of a grey glow at the centre of her
vision, a luminescent sphere that nevertheless held her rapt attention.  It
may well have been a muted grey, but to Ukyo the effect was just as 
profound as if it were the brilliant light of the sun.

She could see.  She could SEE.  

During the time she had spent encased in blackness, she had many times
questioned her sanity, even her very existence.  It was hard to convince 
oneself that one is still alive when one's existence is without sight, 
movement, or speech.  Now, though, with this thin ray of light, hope
returned to her.  Perhaps there was to be an end to this ordeal after all.

Her excitement grew with each subsequent test - she had taken to thinking 
of them as training exercises, each one pushing her body a little bit 
further - as she forced a little more from her eyes every time.  What began
as a small grey shape slowly expanded, grew in size and luminosity, until 
it dominated her vision and her imagination.

What was the source of this light?  Was it some vision from beyond?  
Thoughts of the light saturated her mind, displacing the familiar voice 
that had previously held her concentration.  She had found something new to
cling to, something far more exciting.  She knew, if things continued as 
they had been, that eventually she would be able to discern exactly what it
was she was looking at.

By the seventy-ninth test, with the bright white light shining down upon
her, she became aware of a new sensation - butterflies in her stomach.  The
test dragged on, and on, seemingly for an eternity.  She waited, patiently,
for the whirr and hiss that would signify the end of the test, and perhaps
offer the solution to the mystery.

* * *

To a starving man, even the tiniest morsel of dried-up, stale bread tastes
like the sweetest fruit, filling and satisfying, merely because it is not
nothing.  As test eighty began and Ukyo's eyes finally opened, she felt 
much the same.

The source of light was revealed to her as a surgical lamp, three bright 
lights overhead that bathed her in a sterile white light.  It hurt her
eyes to gaze up at the bright bulbs but she could not stop herself from 
staring at them.  They were beautiful, because they were real.

They were the first thing she had seen in -- she didn't even know how long
it had been.  None of that mattered now.  All that she cared about was the
fact that she could, at last, see again.  She studied every curve of the
light fixture, unable to turn her head away, unwilling to close her eyes or
even blink, lest the gift disappear from whence it had come.

The surrounding area faded away into darkness by comparison, and it was 
several moments before the blurry edges of movement caught the borders of
her peripheral vision.  She was not sure, but it looked like several people
were moving back and forth around her.  Why, she was not sure - she had 
been so absorbed in the light that she had not been paying any attention to
the words being spoken around her.

A silhouette moved across her line of sight, a slightly odd shape that, 
as her eyes adjusted, resolved into the shape of a female face, with 
strands of blonde hair dangling down from it.  The contraction of Ukyo's
pupils must have been noticed by the woman, as a smile spread across her
face.  

"Can you see me?"

Ukyo blinked, involuntarily, and forced her head to nod, ever so slightly,
but enough for the woman to notice.  A look of elation passed across the
blonde woman's face.  

"Looks like we've got a positive result," the woman called, glancing away
for a moment.  "Pupil dilation and contraction, apparent facial 
recognition.  Everything looks perfect."

"Excellent," came the familiar voice, the voice Ukyo had put aside and 
almost forgotten in her excitement.  Evidently, he had not forgotten her. 
He spoke from nearby, his voice quiet.  "Ukyo, we're ready to move to the
next phase.  Get some rest, and we'll see you soon."

* * *

This time, the sleep was different.  Longer.  Perhaps, Ukyo reasoned, that
was because she had consciousness to compare it to.  Now that she had seen
the light, she could perceive the absence of it.

When she awoke, the differences continued.  The hissing, whirring, and
clicking was the same as always - produced, it turned out, by a heavy metal
door that swung open, depressurising the chamber that held her.  It felt
strange to finally see that which she had imagined so many times before, to
compare the reality to her imagination.  

She was no longer lying down, she realised, but standing straight upwards,
held back against what was once the table she lay upon by restraints around
her waist, neck, ankles and wrists.  If she had the strength she would have
protested her bonds, but in her current condition they were all that kept
her from collapsing to the floor in a heap.

She peered into the cloud of steam that filled the air as the door opened,
her eyes moving back and forth, hoping to discern shapes amongst the mist.
Her head sagged to one side, however, making it difficult to see what
was going on before her.

"Welcome, Ukyo Kuonji."

Ukyo twitched at the mention of her name, by a new voice, one she had never
heard before.  She tried to turn her head, forcing her eyes to turn as far
as they would allow, to catch a glimpse of the person addressing her.

"I'm sure you have many questions," the man continued.  Ukyo finally 
managed to raise her head enough to bring him into view; he was a tall man,
blonde, muscular, seemingly enormous in his military uniform.  Ukyo 
narrowed her eyes, trying to make out the details of his face.  

"My staff will be here to answer them for you during your stay," the man
said, gesturing with one arm and then the other to the multitude of people,
clothed in identical white laboratory coats, to either side of him.  He 
smiled, the leathery skin of his face creasing as he did.  She noticed a
multitude of scars on the man's face, a slight tremor in his posture, and 
wondered exactly who this man was.  If she had been capable of speech, she 
would have voiced her questions, but she was limited to silent observation.

"My name is Hunter - Colonel Jonathan Hunter, military attache to the
Phoenix Industrial Laboratory for Advanced Research, or PILAR.  The 
'Pillar' is your new home, for the time being."

Ukyo listened to the Colonel's words, the sharp sense of hearing she had 
developed over the course of her lifetime working to her favour as she
tried to gauge his tone and inflection.  He spoke gruffly, abruptly; he was
a man who was used to being listened to without interruption.  He barely
looked away from her, and certainly didn't look to the scientists to either
side of himself - clearly he considered them unworthy of his attention, at
least relative to her.

A low, constant humming filled the air; it sounded like some sort of 
engine, Ukyo reasoned.  Perhaps an electrical generator?  But what kind of
laboratory would need to generate its own power?

An isolated lab, perhaps, one cut off from the main power grid.  Why 
isolate a lab?  To keep people from finding out what goes on inside, she 
thought to herself.  That thought sparked an intense pang of anxiety within
her.  Just what kind of 'advanced research' needed such isolation?

A glance around the room brought with it questions rather than answers -
Pillar?  What kind of place was this Pillar?  A secret research laboratory,
evidently, the name as well as the abundance of computers and scientific
equipment making that fact obvious.  

The walls and floors gleamed, their metallic surfaces absolutely spotless.
There were no windows that she could see, and only one exit - a large
archway, sealed with a metallic door.  It looked easily large enough to 
accommodate a vehicle - although she was not sure why a laboratory would 
need one.  Perhaps for the transportation of materials?  If there was
vehicular activity in and out of the lab, there was a potential escape
route.  These people had, apparently, not harmed her - yet, at least - but
she did not want to be caught without a plan for escape if the situation
called for it.  

The Colonel's words continued, by and large ignored by Ukyo as she tried to
take in as much detail as she could.  There were ventilation grates in the
ceiling, but that was high, far out of her reach.  Not viable as an escape
route, so, quickly dismissed.  That left only the door.

Her scan completed, she turned her attention back to the Colonel.  His
speech was not finished - Ukyo listened, wondering for a moment if she had
missed anything important, but the puffing of his chest and the repeated
mentions of 'proud tradition' left her with the impression that the speech
was more for his benefit than hers.

Her attention quickly wandered away from the Colonel; her newfound powers of
sight were still far too new and novel to waste staring at one person.  She
inspected the men and women standing to either side of the Colonel - they
all stood stiffly at attention, although judging by the slight shuffling of 
feet and slumping of shoulders, this was not a regular activity for them.

They did not look as she had imagined they might - not one of them 
resembled the stereotypical 'mad scientist' - rather, they all seemed to
be respectable people, clean-shaven men and tidy women.  They looked more 
like doctors than anything else.

No, she noticed, not all.  There were younger faces amongst the line, and
one in particular caught her attention.

He stood shorter than the rest, obviously younger than the others, who all
appeared to be middle-aged or older.  There were many wrinkles upon the 
faces of the scientists, but his face was youthful - he looked little more
than a teenager.  His eyes were striking, brown irises staring intently at
her.  The man - the boy - smiled at her, his eyes smiling as well from 
beneath a mop of black hair.

That was him, she realised.  That was the voice that had kept her company
in the darkness.  She stared at his smile and felt that same sense of 
relief fill her - somehow, she knew he would not hurt her.  His was a kind
smile, one that put her at ease.  She wished, for a moment, that she was
able to smile back.

"You will have a short orientation period with the staff of this facility,
then I will return to brief you on the current situation," the Colonel 
spoke after a long pause, the shift from long silence to speech snapping
Ukyo out of her reverie.  "Welcome aboard."

She turned to look at the Colonel as he gave her a nod and turned away, 
walking briskly away along the line of scientists, who all stood perfectly
still as he passed.  Watching him leave, she narrowed her eyes, one of his
words hanging in her ears.

Aboard?

* * *

The scientists drifted toward her as the door sealed behind the Colonel,
each as uncertain as the next, looking at her with what seemed to be 
extreme trepidation.

It's not like I can hurt them, Ukyo thought to herself.  What are they so
afraid of?

The boy, however, did not seem afraid.  He moved toward her, slowly, 
hobbling along on a cane - he must have had it held behind himself earlier,
Ukyo realised - slowly but surely making his way toward her.  One by one 
the other scientists noticed and backed off, each shuffling off to a 
computer console or other darkened recess of the lab.

Apparently, the boy wanted some time alone with her, and didn't need to 
ask the others.

She watched his step carefully; he leaned heavily on the cane, his right
leg appearing stiff and reluctant to move.  He did not walk gingerly upon
it, however, which suggested to her that it was not causing him pain.  She
wondered for a moment how he sustained whatever injury it was that
prevented him from walking, but her ponderance was pushed aside as the boy
spoke.

"Hello, Ukyo."

She looked at him and tried to speak, but her body refused to obey, and so
her response was little more than a mumbled utterance of acknowledgement.
The boy glanced to either side of himself, then reached over and pressed
a panel off to one side of Ukyo, outside of her field of view.  The console
beeped, and before she knew it, a transparent cube of glass slid down from
the ceiling to encase the area around her and the boy.

"A protective measure," the boy explained, noticing her bewildered look.  
"Designed to protect us from you if something were to go wrong, but I knew
that would never be necessary.  So, we might as well use it to get a little 
privacy."

A tingle ran down her spine as she became suddenly aware of the boy's 
proximity, and her body's lack of response.  If he were to touch her, there
was nothing she could do to stop him.  She was completely at his mercy.

He seemed to understand her concern, however, and quickly stepped back, an
apologetic look upon his face.  "Here, things will be easier if you can
talk."

He quickly pressed another button upon the same console, and with another 
beep, Ukyo felt sensation return to her face.  It was strange, a tingly 
sensation that trickled down her face almost, but not quite, painfully.
She worked her jaw, trying to regain control over her muscles.

The boy watched her closely, seemingly quite interested in her efforts.  He
bore an expression of curiosity, his eyes intently focused upon her 
attempts to speak.

"Who are you?  Where am I?" Ukyo managed at length, forming the words as
best she could.  She had a thousand other questions to ask, most of them
containing accusations of kidnapping, but she wanted to gather as much 
information about her surroundings as she could before she started 
irritating her captors.  "Why am I being held here?"

"You're in the Pillar.  Weren't you listening?"

"Not ... not really," Ukyo replied, forcing her head upwards to match the
boy's inquisitive gaze.  "I was distracted."

"Well, don't worry about it," the boy replied with a smile.  "The Colonel 
does ramble on a bit. You're doing pretty well to stay awake this long, all
things considered.  Hell, he nearly put me to sleep."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Sorry, it's just that I'm ... quite excited to see you," the boy 
explained, glancing away for a moment.  "You're in the Pillar's tertiary
laboratory, which takes up a little under a sixth of the space aboard this
vessel.  The other two labs are larger than this one, but all of the 
exciting stuff goes on right here."

"Vessel?" Ukyo asked.  At least now she knew she what 'aboard' meant.

"Yes," the boy said with a nod.  "You're aboard the Leviathan Spring, a 
top-secret research vessel submerged about ten kilometres off the west 
coast of Japan."

Submerged?  

"We're in a submarine?" Ukyo asked, incredulous.  It was hard to believe,
but it did explain the need for the lab to generate its own power.  Her 
mind raced through the situation, reasoning that if the lab needed power
generating facilities, it was staying underwater too long to rely on 
onboard power reserves.  

That made the prospect of escape difficult; a submarine would not be an 
easy prison to leave.  However, a submarine would still need to return to
the surface, even if it was an infrequent occurrence - unless it was capable
of generating its own oxygen, food, water and power on a self-sustaining
basis, and she found that extremely unlikely.  Possible, but unlikely.

"That's right.  Kind of bizarre, huh?" he commented, looking around the 
lab.  "It took me a while to get used to it, but now I call it home."

"And just who are you?" Ukyo asked, eyeing him carefully.  He seemed 
harmless enough, the twinge of excitement in his voice suggesting that he
was enjoying the moment.  She wondered just why he was being so friendly.

"The name's Hibiki," the boy replied, returning his attention to her.  He
patted his chest as he spoke.  "Ryoga Hibiki.  I've been assigned as your
tech."

"You already seem to know who I am.  What's a tech?"

"Technical support.  It's a long story," Ryoga replied.  A moment of
silence passed before he noticed her worried expression and added, "Don't 
worry, I'll explain everything later.

"For now," he continued, the smile returning to his face, "just try to put
up with all of the red tape the Colonel has lined up for you.  Once that's
over and done with, we can get to the fun stuff."

"Fun stuff?" Ukyo asked, in as even a tone as she could manage.  She didn't
want to give away her true feelings, but she thought it would have been
obvious that fun was the -last- thing on her mind.  Clearly, this Ryoga
enjoyed his work.

"Wait and see," Ryoga replied, his voice tilted in an enigmatic curl.  
Leaning in toward her, he whispered conspiratorially, "I think you're going
to like it."

* * *

The next few hours revealed to Ukyo exactly what Ryoga had meant by "red 
tape".  With her face once again numbed she was introduced to the entire
staff of the laboratory - as well as a seemingly endless procession of
anonymous military personnel - one after the other, as they moved past her.

Introduced was the incorrect word for it, she thought, four hours into her
tour.  A more appropriate word would have been "exhibited".  With her body
limp and motionless, sealed behind a wall of glass, her only means of
expression was her eyes.  She was held up for display, a silent attraction
for a parade of tourists eager to catch a glimpse of her.

The question of why they were so interested in her occupied her mind for 
most of the time.  She wasn't moving, or doing anything remotely 
interesting; she was fully clothed, and presumably looked like little more
than a living rag doll.  She truly failed to understand the attraction.

One group in particular caught her attention, however; the Colonel brought
with him a group of military officials, lined them up, and gave them what
appeared to be a presentation.  She was no expert on the military hierarchy
but could tell from the Colonel's body language that they were, without a 
doubt, his superiors.  He moved stiffly, and she noticed a thin sheen of 
sweat forming on his forehead - clearly, these men made him nervous.

He stood in front of her, his back to her, for an extended period.  She 
could see his jaw moving as he talked, but could not hear him through the
glass of the door that was sealed closed in front of her.  After a while,
he raised one arm and used it to point at various parts of her body, 
punctuating each gesture with a short monologue.

She occupied herself for a time with attempting to fathom just what the 
Colonel was saying, but quickly dismissed her thoughts as mere conjecture.  
She was no lipreading expert, and she couldn't make out any words from the
mumbled sound that made it through the glass.

The assembled officers looked her up and down at great length, some nodding
every now and then as the Colonel delivered his speech.  It seemed that she 
was passing whatever test she was being put through; the men looked 
pleased, and as the speech drew to a close, they applauded.

The question of what would have happened to her if they had not been 
satisfied briefly crossed her mind as she watched the men leave, but she
quickly decided it was best not to dwell upon it.

* * *

"I imagine you're feeling like a fish out of water," the Colonel said, his
voice echoing through the vastness of the Pillar's tertiary lab.  The room
was darkened and unmanned, leaving Ukyo held under the bright spotlight of 
the surgical lamp, the Colonel marauding in the shadows.  His voice was
sharp, carrying with it a predatory edge that left Ukyo extremely nervous.

"That's one way of putting it," she replied.  Sensation had returned to her
face shortly after the last of the staff left earlier, and she had regained
almost full control over her muscles in the time since then.  It had not
helped her any; she was still restrained quite securely.

"This must all be very confusing.  I apologise; that's the nature of these
things.  We have all tried to make your stay as comfortable as possible 
under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?"

"You were in quite a mess when we found you.  It's taken us nearly six 
months to repair the damage."

"Six -months-?" Ukyo asked, boggling.  How could it have been six months?
A more important question followed: six months since what?  She could 
remember nothing.  "What kind of damage?"

"See for yourself," the Colonel replied.  At his word, the wall on the far
side of the lab burst into light, drowning the entire lab in its glow as an
image was projected upon it at a massive scale.

Ukyo's eyes widened in shock, the blood draining from her face, a nauseous
feeling gathering in her stomach as she stared in horror at the picture. 
It was of herself, or her body at least, propped up against a tree.  Bright
red blood covered her skin and clothes, but it was the centre of the image
that burned itself into her eyes.

Her head was missing; in its place was nothing more than a bloody stump.

She forced her eyes shut, fighting back the convulsions in her stomach that
threatened to overwhelm her.  Gods, she thought, what a sickening sight.

"What the hell happened to me?" she demanded, when at last she was able to
speak.  "What did you do?"

"Your body possesses an extraordinary regenerative capability.  All we had
to do was assist it along the way; your body regrew nearly everything on 
its own.  All of the nerve connections, blood vessels, bone, on its own.  
It really was quite extraordinary to watch--"

"I mean, how the HELL did I end up like that?!" 

"Oh, I see," the Colonel said, his tone casual.  "We didn't cut off your
head, if that's what you're wondering.  That was done by another - we 
helped you to repair yourself."

"You don't ... recover from having your head cut off!" Ukyo cried, not
daring to open her eyes.  "I was dead!"

"Evidently, -you- recovered just fine.  If I understood just how you 
managed to do so, I would be a wealthy man.  As it is, the DNA samples we
collected from you are going to fuel medical research for the next thirty
years, if not more."

"This isn't natural," Ukyo murmured, a tremble crawling down her spine. 
Such an image, such a suggestion were enough to drive her to despair.  How
could one return from the dead?  One could not.  The immediate assumption
she made was that the photo had been manipulated, and that was the
assumption she decided to work with - it was the only conclusion she could
draw that did not make her want to scream.

"We're getting caught up in the details," the Colonel commented with a 
dismissive wave of his hand.  "There are people here who can explain the 
technicalities to whatever level of detail you desire.  That's not why I'm
here - I'm here to offer a proposal to you."

"Turn off that damned picture," Ukyo insisted, opening her eyes again only
after the Colonel complied.  She breathed deeply, trying to wash away the
image that hung in her mind, as vibrant and bright as the actual picture
itself.  Whoever doctored that photo did an amazing job.

"I believe we have a lot to offer each other, Ukyo.  I propose we work as a
team."

"I don't need your help.  What do I have to gain from you?" she asked.  
Tugging at her restraints, she added, "Other than my freedom?"

"That's a good question.  Before I can answer it, I have to give you a 
little history lesson," the Colonel replied.  He stepped into the circle of
light and looked up at Ukyo.  "The Phoenix organisation is very old.  
Hundreds of years old.  It's divided up into several subdivisions - 
military, research and development, exploration and archaeology, and so on.
It's a large and diverse organisation, but from its moment of creation it
has always been centred on one goal and one goal alone."

"What goal?"

"Phoenix was established to protect humanity from an extremely dangerous
threat.  One you should be quite familiar with, in fact: dragonkin."

"Dragonkin?" Ukyo asked.  She mouthed the word again, and again; it felt
strangely familiar as it rolled across her tongue, bringing with it a vague
uncomfortable sensation that she couldn't quite place.  She knew that word.

"Our organisation does not get involved in wars, international conflicts,
or politics.  We operate at a level above such concerns.  Our charter 
states that we are to respond to the specific threat dragons pose to the
future of humanity.  It is a threat we have been unable to contain - all of
our efforts have been met with failure.

"It is no secret within the ranks that attempting to take down a dragon 
means almost certain death.  In fact, of all those who have fought the 
dragons, only one - one! - has ever survived.  Can you imagine how the 
troops feel?  Morale is on the floor, and our numbers grow thinner every
day.  We are on the verge of breaking down; that cannot be allowed to
happen."

"That's a terrible shame, but what does any of this have to do with me?"

"Our organisation has been observing you for a very long time.  You have 
dedicated your entire life to the completion of a single task, and yet for
all your efforts you've been met with nothing but failure.  That said, 
even in failure you show an astounding potential."

Ukyo sank into silence, her attention captured by the Colonel's words.  
She felt a strange sense of familiarity, a profound truth in his
observation, even though she could remember nothing before the laboratory.

"You may not recall it, but your heart knows of what I speak.  Think - 
remember."

She moved to speak but hesitated, a faint feeling of recognition sparking
within her mind.  Somehow, she knew what he was speaking about, but 
could not quite place it.  Closing her eyes, she forced her mind to delve
into the depths of her memory, seeking out any moment to latch on to,
anything to grasp amongst the emptiness.

She found what she was after, not in a moment, image, sound or smell, but
in a colour.  Red.  She remembered red.  It was as she tried to fathom the
meaning of the colour that the floodgates of memory burst open.

Her body jolting, she cried out in surprise as a flash of memory surged 
into her mind, a blinding, screaming moment of revelation; her mind was
filled with flashes of red, the hot touch of a blade, the twisting agony of
her own death.

She saw it all.  The memories of a lifetime burst forward into her mind,
all of them focused around a single, ever-present individual.  Ranma.  
Ranma Saotome.  The source of all her misery.  The root of all her rage and 
hate. 
 
"Rrrrrrranma," she growled, her mind welling with a rage so intense that
it pushed all other emotions aside.  So consuming, so integral, now that
she could recall it she failed to comprehend how she could ever have 
forgotten it.

"I can help you kill her," the Colonel whispered, his face almost close 
enough to touch hers.  "She is the key to it all.  If she dies the dragons
die with her.  It is what you want, isn't it?"

"Tell me your proposal," Ukyo muttered.  Opening her eyes, she looked 
expectantly to the Colonel.

"You are not strong enough, fast enough, or smart enough to destroy Ranma.
You can try, but you will fail.  However, if you agree to join Alpha Team,
become part of the organisation, I can give you a gift that will help you
realise your full potential.  You can succeed where all others have 
failed."

"What gift?"

The Colonel said nothing; he casually reached down and began unbuttoning 
the jacket of his uniform, his eyes locked upon hers as the garment slowly
opened.  Reaching within, he pulled out a pistol.

"This pistol fires twelve millimetre ammunition.  It's enough to blow a 
person's head apart.  It makes a mess, but it's very effective.  It has
served me well over the course of my career.  It might seem strange, but I
even named it.  I call it Jericho."

"That's your gift?" Ukyo replied in disbelief, a sneer on her face.

"No, it's not," the Colonel replied.  A calm look upon his face, he raised
the pistol, aimed it at Ukyo's forehead, and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

"Is it done?"

Hunter glanced over his shoulder as he buttoned up his jacket and nodded
once, the speed of his walk not decreasing.  His footsteps were joined by
another set, moving in time with his own.

"I must stress to you the importance of this mission.  We can't afford any
mistakes."

"I understand," Hunter replied.  "I am well aware of this mission's 
importance, Sir."

"Good.  I'm trusting you with this one, Jon.  Don't damage that trust.  
This mission is being watched -very- closely."

"You have my word.  Everything will proceed as planned."

"I take it we shall be getting underway shortly?"

"The Captain knows what he's supposed to be doing.  Once we offload the
Council, it won't take us long to reach Okinawa."

"Excellent.  I expect to be kept informed."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

"I can't believe he did that!"

"He had his reasons."

"Reasons or not, we spent years researching this!  Years of our life, and
he just--"

"Yoiko, he had his reasons.  Leave it at that."

"But, Ryoga, what if--"

"The what ifs don't matter.  What's done is done."

"Would someone mind telling me what the HELL just happened?" Ukyo demanded,
her voice drowning out the arguing pair.  They glanced at each other for a
moment, then turned in tandem to face her.

One of the fluorescent lights overhead ticked on and off erratically, its
continual buzz echoing through the room.  The immense lab was empty save 
for the three of them, but even so, when Ryoga spoke, he did so quietly.
Ukyo strained to listen to his voice, wondering if such a muted voice had
developed out of habit in a boy used to speaking of secret things.

"It's known as the Seraph Initiative," Ryoga replied, moving toward her.  
His face looked sullen, his eyes weary.  Reaching up, he brushed his hair
from his forehead; it hung aside for a moment before flopping back into
place.  He did not bother repeating the attempt.  "It was begun many years
ago, and its goal was to develop a more effective form of protective armour
for troops in the field."

"Armour has always concentrated upon shielding the body externally," Yoiko
interjected.  She was a small girl, with blonde streaks dyed into her black
hair, that she continually fidgeted with as she spoke excitedly.  She 
seemed enthusiastic to go into detail.  "Nobody ever thought of bolstering
the body's natural defences rather than just surrounding them in armour. 
Nobody except us, that is."

Ukyo glanced at the girl, taking in the important details in a few short
seconds.  She was young, seemingly younger than Ryoga, and judging by the
way she stood closely to him they were either related, or romantically
attached.  She had an impish face, her childish features belying her 
intelligence.  Her eyes shone with youthful curiosity as Ukyo looked at
them; Ukyo wondered for a moment what kind of military would recruit mere
children.  This girl looked no older than thirteen, perhaps fourteen.

"We found that the body is perfectly capable of defending itself," Ryoga
continued, firing an irritated glare at Yoiko as he wrested control of the
conversation away from her, much to her apparent annoyance.  "All that it
needs is the right stimulation.  The end result of the research was the
Seraph Wing."

"Seraph Wing?" Ukyo asked, her confusion growing by the second.  All she
wanted was a simple explanation.

"It's a three-tiered application," Yoiko explained, jumping into the 
conversation before Ryoga could respond.  "The Wing expands the body, the
mind, and the interface between those two and the world around them."

Ukyo looked back and forth between the pair, a bewildered look on her face.
The duo looked back at her expectantly, waiting on her response.  The 
looks on their faces when she finally spoke suggested that she did not give
the response they were hoping for.

"What does that mean?"

"Essentially," began Ryoga, "the Wing allows--"

"We nailed the armour part easy," Yoiko interrupted, her excitement getting
the better of her.  "That wasn't the hard part.  The Wing amplifies the
energy your body creates to power the biokinetic plating that surrounds
you."

"It's a kind of shield," Ryoga offered, anticipating Ukyo's next question.
Stepping over to a nearby table, he grasped the flattened bullet fired by
the Colonel.  "When the bullet hit the biokinetic plate, it was instantly
stopped in its tracks."

"End result, one squashed bullet and not a scratch on you," Yoiko observed
as Ryoga held up the bullet, an enormous grin on her face.  "I can't 
believe it worked so well!"

"I would have preferred a less dramatic demonstration," Ryoga said as he
returned the bullet to the table.  "But the Colonel made his point well 
enough."

"So this is what he meant by a gift," Ukyo supposed.

"We aren't finished yet," Yoiko said.  She smiled, apparently enjoying
herself immensely.

"What do you mean?" Ukyo asked, feeling a little bewildered.  The anger she
had felt toward the Colonel had dissipated, replaced by an intense 
curiosity.  She could see how this Wing could be immensely useful in 
hunting down Ranma.

"The Wing creates a feedback loop," Ryoga said, at Yoiko's prompting. "At
first we thought it was going to be a problem, but we realised that we 
could actually use it to our advantage."

"-I- realised it," Yoiko insisted.  "The excess energy can be reapplied to
the body, straight back into the central nervous system.  It can be used 
anywhere, any nerve in your body, even the brainstem and the brain itself."

"And what does -that- mean?" Ukyo asked, her voice betraying the growing
irritation she felt at being so utterly eclipsed by the conversation.

"Essentially, the muscles in your body, as well as your brain, can use that
excess energy.  Muscles can apply more power, move more quickly.  In the
case of the brain, it can increase neural capacity and activity."

"It makes you faster, stronger, and smarter," Ryoga clarified.  "Not 
forever, your body's energy reserves will run out after a while, and you'll
need to recharge them.  But while it lasts, it can make a real difference."

"This all sounds like one hell of a gift," Ukyo observed dryly.  "What's
the catch?"

"No catch.  We needed your regenerative ability," Ryoga said with a shrug.
"The installation is a rather ... intrusive procedure.  Your body was 
capable of surviving it - you're the only one able to support the Wing."

"So, you needed a trigger for your new gun," Ukyo said, eyeing Ryoga 
carefully.  If what he said was true, this placed her in a very strong 
bargaining position.  What good was a weapon if there was no way to use it?
"You've already ... installed it, then?"

"Sure.  Half of it, anyway," Yoiko said with a shrug.  "We'll install the
external amplifiers after the first batch of tests."

"The Colonel is very anxious to see the Wing in action," Ryoga added.  "I
know you're probably angry at not being consulted about this ...."

"Not at all," Ukyo replied, a smile crossing her face.  The military loves
using its weapons, she reasoned, so they would be very keen to appease her.
She could use that to her advantage.  Suddenly, her situation seemed much
more positive than it had only a few minutes before.

"Great!  The hardware's pretty much useless without the wetware," Yoiko
commented cheerily.

"You are such a geek," Ryoga said, giving Yoiko an exasperated glare. 
"Look, go wait outside for a while, would you?  I want to talk to her
alone."

"But, I--"

"Now, Yoiko," Ryoga insisted.  He stared at her, his tone melting her 
resistance.  Her shoulders slumping, Yoiko turned and trudged toward the 
exit.

"She gets excited too easily," Ryoga observed, watching her leave.  He 
turned back to Ukyo and gave a wan smile.  "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't apologise for your sister," Ukyo said.  "She's just a child."

"How did you know she was my sister?"

"The way she looks at you, you have to be siblings or lovers.  The way she
argues with you, you can only be siblings."

"Heh.  Seems the Wing is improving your powers of observation already."

* * *

"So which am I, a prisoner, or a lab rat?" Ukyo asked, fixing Ryoga with a
piercing glare.  She was quite finished with idle conversation, it was time
to get some answers.  Ryoga returned her stare and let out a sigh.  
Clearly, he understood what she wanted to discuss.

"Both, I guess," he replied, surprising her with his honesty.  "You have to
understand, the Pillar is only a small part of this boat.  The Leviathan
Spring is a military vessel, and it's the military that's in charge.  If
they want to keep you here, there isn't much you or I can do."

"I see," Ukyo replied, thoughtfully.

"That said, I really think you should give it a chance.  Nearly everyone on
this vessel has lost friends, family, or someone they cared about to the 
dragon.  She must be stopped, and I know that is exactly what you want to
do.  What do you have to lose?"

"Nothing," Ukyo replied.  "But that's not the question here."

"What is, then?"

"The question is, what do you have to gain?  It's a little strange that I
would be given this thing with no strings attached."

"If you were in our situation, you'd understand," Ryoga replied.  He looked
thoughtful for a moment, then spoke again.  "I used to serve in Bravo Team.
I was a recon officer, but I was just a rookie; I didn't know what the hell
I was doing.  We were all so determined to find Ranma that we didn't even
stop to think about what would happen when we did."

"You were a soldier?" Ukyo asked, surprised.  She glanced down at Ryoga's
cane, a gesture that Ryoga did not miss.

"That's right.  I had barely got my feet wet.  Three years of training, a
few training missions, but it was my first real deployment.  We were sent 
to a remote forest - hell, I didn't even know exactly where it was.  All I
knew was we were there to find Ranma.  We found her, all right.  Thirteen
men, men I'd spent three years training with, all died right in front of 
me.  I saw ... I saw her ..."

"Saw her what?" Ukyo asked, watching closely as Ryoga fumbled for words.  

"She ripped them apart," Ryoga spoke softly, staring at the floor.  "She
went through them as if they weren't even there.  Those guys were the 
toughest bastards I'd ever met in my life and she threw them around like 
rag dolls.  I was so far away, all I could do was listen to the screaming.
By the time I got there, it was too late.  

"She barely had to move.  She just tapped me and - bang - I was on the 
ground.  I didn't know it then, but she'd pretty much destroyed my leg.  
Bone, muscle, nerves, everything, it was just shattered.  She could have
killed me, but she didn't.  I think she just wanted me to suffer."

"So that's why you ..." Ukyo said, glancing down at the cane once more.

"Use this?" Ryoga asked, briefly holding up his cane.  He nodded.  "Yeah.
The medics managed to save the leg, but it's pretty much useless now.  I
was going to leave, just go home, but Colonel Hunter offered me a chance to
work in the Pillar.  I thought maybe I could get Ranma back for what she
did, even if only by making the weapon that kills her."

"Seraph Wing."

"Exactly," he replied, nodding.  "You know what the funny thing is?  I'm
the only person who ever encountered Ranma and lived to talk about it.  
When word got around, people started talking about me.  There's the guy
that survived it, they'd say.  Sure, he got his ass kicked and now he can
barely walk, but he -survived-.  The people here treat me like some kind of
hero, but all I did was watch my friends die."

"That was you ...." Ukyo realised, memories of her conversation with the 
Colonel returning to her.  He had mentioned a sole survivor, but this boy?
He was the only one able to survive?  "How many has she killed?"

"Hundreds ... thousands.  There's a huge wall at our headquarters, engraved
with the name of every single soldier who has died at her hands. It's
enormous; it hurts just to look at it and imagine all of those people dying
the same way my friends did.  Can you imagine what it's like?  The only
victory we can hope for is survival.  What kind of hope is that?"

"Gods ..." Ukyo muttered, staring down at the boy before her.  So 
completely had her mother's death occupied her mind, she had not even 
stopped to think about the many others that Ranma had killed.

"We need a real hero," Ryoga implored, opening his eyes at last.  He fixed
Ukyo with his stare, the desperation obvious in his face.  "If we don't 
stop her, she'll kill us all.  I don't want my sister to die - you're the
only one who can save her, Ukyo."

"You really care about her, don't you," Ukyo said softly, her thoughts 
returning to her mother.  She knew what it was like to be unable to defend
your family.

"She means everything to me.  I'd do anything for her, but I can't stop
Ranma for her," Ryoga replied, sadness in his voice.  "You have to do this.
Let us help you beat her.  If you don't want to do it to help us, do it for
yourself."

"All right," Ukyo said.  "I'll do it - I'll join.  I'll help you, Ryoga."

She would have her vengeance, not just for her mother, but for them all.
Ranma would pay for what she had done.

* * *

"Let's get you suited up!" 

"Okay," Ukyo replied, forcing a smile to appease Yoiko.  The truth of the
matter was, she was feeling dizzy, almost to the point of nausea.  Her body
was not yet reacquainted with the concept of standing on its own feet.  Her
leg muscles ached with every movement and staying upright was an ordeal, 
but Yoiko would accept nothing less than unbridled enthusiasm.  

Ryoga was Ukyo's tech - that meant providing aid and support in everything
she did.  Yoiko somehow thought that made her a tech's assistant, and she
seemed to take great pleasure in that role.  Ryoga had left, ostensibly to
speak with the Colonel, but she suspected he left because she was about to
change her clothes.

Nevertheless, Ukyo wished he was present - if only to control his sister's
excitement.

"What do I wear?" Ukyo asked.

"This!" Yoiko replied, pulling aside a white sheet to reveal a uniform.  
She swept her hand over the garment, making little inquisitive sounds as
she tried to judge Ukyo's reaction.

Ukyo, for her part, looked closely at the uniform.  It was entirely black,
with gleaming leather combat boots, khaki pants, a loose jacket that was
opened - revealing a white undershirt beneath - a belt, a bandolier, and
thick leather gloves.

It was a change from what she was used to, that was for sure.  She noticed
a small flag embroidered to the top of the jacket's left arm - it was not
the Japanese flag as she might have expected, rather, it was a white and
red insignia depicting a phoenix.  

Small details such as a plethora of pouches upon the jacket and pants held
her attention for a time.  She wondered for a moment what all of the 
pouches were used for, but imagined their purpose would be explained soon
enough.  

"Black.  Lots of black," she said at length, flashing Yoiko a smile.  "I 
like it."

* * *

Ukyo watched Ryoga with interest, paying attention to all of the little
adjustments he made as he inspected her uniform.  He spent a great deal of 
time ensuring small details were correct - the belt was fastened securely,
the jacket properly zipped, and a seemingly endless array of ammunition 
magazines, grenades, and other equipment slotted into the various pouches
about her person.  A pistol was strapped to one thigh, a knife to the 
other.  It seemed that every available space on her uniform was taken up by
some piece of equipment.

At least now she knew what the pouches were for.

"No, no," Ryoga said, reaching forward to adjust the submachine gun she 
held in front of herself.  "Keep it pointed downwards.  Don't put your 
finger on the trigger, either.  Rest it across the trigger guard."

"I don't see how a gun is going to help me," Ukyo observed, letting him
guide her hands.

"You never know when one might come in useful for you," Ryoga replied.
"Besides, for now, looking like any other member of Alpha Team is the most
important thing.  If Ranma doesn't know who you are, she won't expect your
attack.  If we can get you close to her, you'll have the Wing -and- the 
element of surprise.  It's our best shot at taking the dragon down."

Ukyo nodded thoughtfully; she hadn't thought of that.  A mirror on the far
wall allowed her to inspect herself, and the difference was remarkable.
With her hair tied back in a neat ponytail - tucked into the back of her 
jacket - and her sword concealed inside her uniform, she did not look much
like the Ukyo Kuonji of old at all.

"Almost perfect," Ryoga observed.  Ukyo jumped a little, realizing she had
been staring.  "There's just a few more things you're going to need."

"What're they?"

"Firstly, this," Ryoga said, holding up a black balaclava.  He gestured for
her to bow her head and, as she did, pulled it over her ears and down
across her face.  He tugged it back and forth for a moment, aligning it,
then stood aside to let Ukyo look in the mirror.

"This thing is way too hot," she spoke, watching the movement of her chin
through the material of the balaclava.  There was a hole for her eyes, but
the rest of her face was entirely covered.

"It's just going to get hotter," Ryoga replied, holding up a helmet.  
"Alpha members cover up every part of their body, so you're going to have
to as well."

Sighing, Ukyo bowed her head again and allowed Ryoga to lower the helmet 
onto her head.  It was heavy, forcing her head down with its bulk.  She'd
had no idea that wearing the uniform would be this uncomfortable - she
probably wouldn't have accepted if she'd known.  It seemed more than a
little over the top for a disguise.

The kevlar vest covering her torso felt much heavier and bulkier than it 
had appeared.  She had some concerns about her mobility while wearing it,
but Ryoga had insisted for authenticity's sake.  She could feel herself
sweating already, and she hadn't even started moving yet.  Suddenly, she
regretted agreeing to any of this.  As Ryoga fussed over the helmet's
alignment on her head, she silently vowed to burn the uniform the moment 
Ranma was dead.

"And finally, these," Ryoga replied, holding up a pair of goggles.  He
gestured again for Ukyo to lower her head, and slipped the goggles over her 
forehead as she did.  "Multipurpose goggles.  Thermal vision, night vision,
twenty-four times optical zoom.  Standard issue to teams Alpha and Bravo.
They'll hide your eyes, too."

Ukyo felt the extra weight upon her head immediately - these were not 
lightweight goggles.  They were large and bulky, with a thick strap holding
them tight against her helmet.  However, unlike most of the accessories she
was adorned with, the goggles actually sounded useful.

"Here, let me pull them on for you," Ryoga said, reaching up to lower the
goggles down over her eyes.  

The lenses were large, but did not obscure her vision at all.  If anything,
she found it easier to see through them.  The equipment attached to the 
goggles obscured most of the upper half of her face, and her own visage -
bug-eyed, two deep green orbs and a swath of black material covering her
face - was an intimidating sight.  She would not recognise herself as Ukyo
Kuonji, that much was for certain.

"Perfect," Ryoga said with a smile, as he stepped back from her.  "If I
didn't know any better, I'd swear you were already in Alpha Team."

* * *

"Good work, Hibiki."

"Thank you, Colonel.  She fits the uniform well," Ryoga commented.  He 
watched her carefully through the two-way mirror, noting to himself the
stiff nature of her movements.  "It's going to be a little while before she
gets used to moving again.  She's been locked down for six months, after 
all."

"We don't have a lot of time, Ryoga," Hunter replied.  "I know I can trust
you to push this along as quickly as possible."

"I understand," Ryoga replied.  He watched Ukyo closely as she peered into
the mirror, inspecting herself without realising she was staring directly 
at him.  She continually fidgeted with her uniform, pulling her jacket 
straight, adjusting her goggles, straightening her helmet.  "She still 
looks nervous."

"Wouldn't you be?" Hunter replied, watching her just as intently.  "This is
the first real contact she's had with anyone in a long time.  She'd rather
be out killing the dragon.  It's all she knows."

"She doesn't look like a killer," Ryoga commented, a contemplative sigh
escaping him.  "I feel bad for pushing her into this.  She's a prisoner 
here."

"They never look like killers," Hunter replied.  "Believe me, she'll be
getting what she wants when she destroys the dragon.  We're not forcing her
into anything.  Hell, we're helping her just as much as she's helping us.
It's a win-win situation."

"I hope you're right, Sir," Ryoga said.  "Just putting her in that uniform
made me feel guilty.  She's too ... nice to be a soldier."

"She doesn't need to be a soldier, Boy," Hunter said, reaching over to pat
Ryoga on the shoulder.  "She just needs to act like one.  Training starts
tomorrow at oh-five-hundred.  Make sure she's there."

= = = =
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