Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ The enemy of my enemy ... ( Chapter 33 )

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!

I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi.

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Nabiki slouched in front of her bedroom's desktop computer, eyes on the economic news scrolling up the monitor that she'd neglected over the past few weeks, her mind wandering. Those weeks hadn't been fun, but they had been productive. Uncle Genma getting classes up and running, check. The auction house view screen taken out twice, check. Nabiki smiled coldly at that thought — it looked like it wouldn't be repaired in time for the next auction, and her new people were already quietly acquiring the materials for makeshift catapults from dumpsters and garbage heaps for when it was repaired. And she was making plans for a pre-auction nighttime strike for the repair after that, so the auction house would have to add the costs of twenty-four hour guards to its budget, and that wouldn't come cheap.... Option for unexpected future alliance, check. Kept Akane from making a run at `Lord' Kuno out of hatred, impatience, and sheer nerves, check —

The middle Tendo shot bolt upright and hit the `freeze' key, stopping the information scroll. Eyes narrowing, she reread the news blurb that had caught her attention, then leaned back and stared thoughtfully at the wall. So the Kaima clan lord sold his family's assets to Americorp and moved to family to Seattle. Amazing — that family owned the wireless `net for all of Edo, and they just handed it over to an American company and left the Empire. Have things really gotten that bad in the Great Game? I mean, sure, what the Elder Kuno pulled on his rise to the top was pretty hardcore, but I'd think the shape his Family is in now would warn others not to emulate him. Besides, I didn't think it was legal to sell Family assets to a foreign company. She hit the `freeze' key again to restart the scroll even as she ruminated on the latest twist. No, actually it wasn't that I thought it was illegal, I just didn't think of it. Apparently, neither did anyone else.

Suddenly, an icon in one corner of the screen started to flash, and Nabiki quickly stopped the news again. Clicking on the blinking police badge, she ran through the lines of code that appear in the new window. Okay, no surveillance, no hidden traps detected, the back door into the Nerima law enforcement network is clean, let's see what's so important.... A few minutes' reading, and Nabiki was finding her fierce grin broad enough to actually be painful. Banishing the grin as she saved several files to a memory stick, she shut down the connection and rose to stride toward the door.

/\

Striding toward the dojo entrance, Nabiki felt her grin threatening to break out again at the dull clacks of wood on wood coming from her destination. The wooden staves had been a brilliant idea on Genma's part — cheap, not really considered a serious threat by law enforcement but with more reach than a short staff and claimable as a walking aid, and dangerous in trained hands. At this point, the four classes Genma was running daily were doing wonders for the household budget, the staves had become an unusual fashion statement all over Nerima, the whole situation was made to order —

Then Nabiki was in the dojo doorway. Looking over the students sparring, she nodded. Good, Hiroshi's team, the timing was perfect, she thought contentedly, then glanced over at her younger sister practicing alone off to the side and felt her mood sour. And another argument to look forward to, to keep her out of the action.

After a few minutes of waiting, Genma called a halt to the sparring session and turned to the middle Tendo. Acknowledging her bow, he asked, “Nabiki, what can we do for you?”

“Sorry to interrupt the class, but I need to borrow Ukyo and Hiroshi,” Nabiki requested. Genma nodded permission to the two teenagers she'd named, and they strode toward her as Ukyo's abandoned sparring partner stepped over to face Hiroshi's.

“So what's up,” Ukyo asked as Nabiki led them back toward the house.

“Have you been contacted by the Children of Israel yet?”

Ukyo shook her head, gaze sharpening.

“Well, you probably will be tonight,” Nabiki continued. “The police just got the heads-up about the raid on the holding compound, and I imagine your contact will be passing you the information then.” Without break stride, she handed back the memory stick. “Here's the initial plans for the police assault, it'll be going in tomorrow afternoon. I'll update you if they change. Don't forget to only use the memory stick with the tablet I loaned you, with the disabled wireless. Oh, and don't mention to your contact that you already have the plans.”

“Right,” Ukyo acknowledged, glancing over at Hiroshi and grinning at the look of amazement on his face.

“You have an in at police headquarters?” the stunned boy asked.

“Something like that,” Nabiki agreed offhandedly, then took the stairs up to her room two at a time to break off the line of questioning.

Once in her room, she sat down in front of her computer and brought up the plans. “Okay, we have the converted warehouse with rooms for the kidnapped girls around the outside wall and a hallway going all the way around, and the center taken up by a single large room used as a cafeteria. There's the main entrance here on the east side along with the loading dock, and side entrances on the north and south. The initial plan is to keep it simple, with a few police covering each of the side entrances and the main assault going in through the main door and loading dock.

“We won't be able to fully plan our own infiltration until you're contacted, Ukyo,” Nabiki continued, glancing at the adopted Saotome. “I expect he'll have word of what the otokodate have planned. But I think your best bet is to ignore the doors and use the windows all around the second story, they'll put you on this overhead catwalk and see everything below you. And with no doors on the west side, there shouldn't be any guards there, either. Elder Cologne's already suggested, and I agree, that it's probably best if the Amazons stay out of this — their status as foreigners make them vulnerable, and their help with the auction house viewscreen might already be pushing it. I assume Konatsu will be going with you, how about Uncle Genma, is he still in?”

“Yeah, says he wouldn't miss it,” the brown-haired girl said. “Says he has some anger to work off — I really wouldn't want to be any thug he encounters.”

“Remember, don't kill anyone unless you have to,” Nabiki reminded her. “We want to shut this down while seeming as harmless and law-abiding as possible.”

Ukyo looked doubtful, but shrugged her agreement. “Yeah, whatever. I think it's wasted effort, but I'll go along. Not so sure about Father. But what about Akane? She's going to insist on going along, and she's way beyond her normal bad temper. If she goes in, she could easily end up dead.”

Nabiki made a face. “Yes, I know. I'll play the `you may be pregnant' card again and ask her to stay on the roof of this warehouse here” — using the mouse's pointer to circle a the warehouse to the west — “and act as backup.

“Which brings me to you, Hiroshi.” Making sure she had the younger boy's attention, she continued, “Your people aren't ready for this by a long shot — they can't roof hop so the windows are out, and the thugs at the doors will have guns. So instead, I want you to put people here, here, and here.” The pointer ran along several alleys behind the warehouse running north/south and off to the west. “However, leave the staves at home and take cameras — no flashes. I wouldn't be surprised if the otokodate have some sort of bolthole out the west wall. If they do and any escape, I want your people hiding along these alleys to get photos of their faces. I'll deal with them later.”

“No staves?” Hiroshi questioned, looking faintly rebellious, but Nabiki shook her head.

“No. You've been training less than three weeks, even if it's been intense, and most of the training you have would be useless in this situation. So let's not give your people false courage, maybe get some killed, and tip our hand all at the same time. Stick to photos, and keeping it safe.”

Hiroshi nodded reluctant agreement with a sigh, and Ukyo stood up.

“I think that's the best we'll be able to plot things out without Father and whatever my contact might drop off tonight. Hiroshi and I should get back to the class. I'll pass on your suggestions to Father.”

Nabiki looked at her sharply, but Ukyo just looked back blandly and eventually Nabiki nodded. “Right, suggestions,” she agreed. “You're right, this's as much as we can get in with just the three of us. Head back to class, I still have news to catch up on.”

Then, before Ukyo could move, Nabiki added, “And if Uncle Genma's too bloodthirsty, remind him of the punishment that any of these thugs taken alive will be facing.”

With quick bows the suddenly thoughtful younger teens left, and Nabiki turned back to her computer to start the news blurbs scrolling again.

/oOo\

Usagi paced Lord Kuno's suite, for the first time in weeks looking for something to do. Even before Ranko had been brought into the household and decided to make her newly-appointed body slave get serious about her martial arts training, the blonde teenager had usually been occupied in the mornings when Kuno-dono rose for the day and with the clean-up afterwards, and in the evenings after he got home from work — it had been the middle of her days that had been unoccupied. But now with her mistress gone undercover (Usagi did her best to ignore the icy shock of fear that swept through her at the thought) and Kuno-dono calling to tell her he wouldn't be coming home that night, either, Usagi was at loose ends just when she needed distraction the most.

Usagi picked up the duster, then looked around only to fail to find a surface that hadn't already been dusted twice, along with every other cleaning chore in the suite. Sighing as she put the duster away, she briefly considered actually taking a look at some lessons ahead of schedule, but rejected the thought as she remembered how she had struggled to get through the assigned lessons that afternoon, even more than usual — she wasn't that bored yet (“bored,” right, that was the word — not “terrified,” Ranko could take care of herself if anyone could). She thought about logging into the solitaire netgames she had played when Makoto had been doing katas before Ranko arrived, but found the formerly fascinating games painful to contemplate. She just wasn't used to being alone anymore!

Then the memory of a blue-haired girl flashed across her mind, and Usagi instantly brightened. She hadn't seen Ami-chan since before Ranko had come and Makoto-chan had been freed. With Usagi working evenings and Makoto needing to be available for the Master's bed if he chose, only the weekends that Kuno-dono had spent elsewhere had been available to the three Juuban slaves for getting together. Then with Ranko's arrival even the weekends had gone away, since Usagi's new mistress never left the mansion. But now the blonde did have an evening free, and Usagi was suddenly desperate for a familiar voice.

Whirling, she hurried to the computer console and hit the button for the communication system. A few seconds' work, and a window opened up showing Mizuno Ami, her blue hair still cut even shorter than the shoulder-length standard cut for Kuno female slaves. “Ami-chan,” Usagi began as soon as her image appeared, “I actually have an evening free, are you busy with anything, can I come over and visit? I'm really bored here and could use some company, and —”

Ami held up a hand. “Whoa, easy, Usagi-chan! Sure, come on over, I'm just doing some light reading.”

“ `Light reading'? What is it, General Principles of Abdominal Surgery?” Usagi teased.

“Basic Methods and Principles of Physical Rehabilitation, actually,” Ami replied with a shrug and a wry smile at Usagi's laugh.

“I'll be right down,” Usagi said, and broke the connection, then hurried into the bathroom and checked over her French maid outfit and shoulder-length hair to make sure she was presentable. Briefly considering changing into her “off-hours” clothing, she decided it would take too long and rushed out of the suite for the housing wing for the slaves not assigned to household tasks.

/\

Usagi paused outside her friend's door, finished closing the clasp on her slave collar (still blushing somewhat from the discreet reminder she'd received from one of the servants she'd passed), then knocked. A moment later, Ami opened the door, an eyebrow going up as she looked her friend over.

“Wow, looking good, Usagi-chan,” she remarked as she let her fellow Juuban slave into her dorm room. “What have you been doing the last few weeks, lifting weights?”

“Well ... some,” Usagi admitted. “Ranko insists on some, at least, as part of my exercise for my martial arts training — she says I need more endurance.”

Ami's other eyebrow rose to join its companion. “ `Ranko'?” she asked. “From what I've heard through the servants' grapevine, shouldn't that be `Mistress'?” Or maybe `Master'. The stories can't be true, but whenever I say that the ones that have been here longest just shrug and say T.I.N. — This Is Nerima.

Usagi's blush resumed its full strength. “Well, yes ...” she said slowly. “But she hates it, so I only call her that when Kuno-dono's around.”

If Ami's eyebrows weren't already up, they would have risen at that. Kuno-dono? When did `Tatewaki-dono' go away? Motioning toward her bed, she pulled her chair away from her desk-load of books and sat. “So, tell me all about this wonder — if she's actually able to get you to exercise, I have serious doubts about her humanity,” she said with a wide smile few people ever saw from the normally quiet girl.