Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ "Armies" Rolling In ( Chapter 58 )

I originally published 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, or anyone else's published work.

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Hiroshi and his partner caught the hands of Hiroshi's replacement and pulled him up beside them on the top of the Kuno estate wall, then Hiroshi turned to catch his staff, thrown up to him by one of the two husky men that had been tossing people up for him and his partner to catch. “Hey, Daisuke, catch!” Hiroshi called out to his friend on the other side of the wall, then tossed him the staff before swinging a leg over the wall and dropping down inside the Kuno estate. He glanced around in relief as he stretched and shook out aching arms before taking back the staff from Daisuke — now that the first and potentially the most lethal part of the plan was over, he could appreciate the size of the turnout. He'd been worried as the weeks went by that feelings might have cooled, but it looked like if anything they'd grown stronger. Either that or the destruction of the Cat Café had actually increased the turnout. He didn't know who'd been recruited beyond his own group, Nabiki had coordinated everything, but he suspected there'd been others like Daisuke that had spontaneously joined the “mob.” Certainly, a lot of them weren't carrying staves.

Then his partner on the wall dropped down beside him, and it was time. Hiroshi took a deep breath, and strode out in front of the people he'd helped over the wall. “Let's go!” he shouted, pointing his staff toward the dark bulk of the mansion across the moonlit lawn, and broke into a run with Daisuke right beside him. Another roar bellowed out behind him.

In all too few seconds they were beside their assigned door and he flattened himself against the wall a few yards to the right of the entrance, pulling Daisuke to his right side as an older man that moved like a martial artist did the same on the other side. Looking back, Hiroshi sighed with relief — it looked like everyone had followed and except for the couple of people on the other side of the door were standing back. He hadn't really doubted they would come with him, not with that shout, but it felt good to see it confirmed.

A husky man dressed like a construction worker and holding a crowbar stepped forward and slapped something on the door where the catch should be, then flattened himself against the wall beside Hiroshi and pulled out what looked like a cell phone. “Fire in the hole!” he called out, pressed a button on the phone, and the wall against Hiroshi's back shook as the night flashed light with a roar. Hiroshi clapped a hand over his eyes and cursed — he was supposed to have done that before the explosion — then dropped his hand and tried to blink away the afterimage as the construction worker stepped in front of the door, levered his crowbar into the hole where the catch had been, and yanked.

/\

The Kuno Family had always been an odd mix of eager looking forward to the future and nostalgic looking back to the past. The Family's members had tended to be one or the other, the previous lord being the first and the current one the second, but its retainers didn't have that luxury if they were to preserve the Family's position in the Great Game. So they compromised by adopting the latest tech, while clinging to the Code of their ancestors — even if for many of those ancestors that Code had come in the wake of conquering Japanese armies. That devotion to the Code had been strained by the preemptive assaults against their lord's enemies of the samurai class in violation of his oath, leading to otherwise unnecessary deaths among the ranks of the Family's ninjas as when discretion permitted they'd faced the opposing samurai with cold steel and their own bodies rather than all the modern weapons at their disposal.

But facing a mob threatening to overrun the Family's spiritual center, for many of those ninja holding the line that conflict had vanished — whatever else the mob might have been, it was mostly made up of commoners, after all, with only a leavening of martial artists in the mix, and all rising against their lawful lord. Which was why Jan Soo Mi was standing several yards from one of the doors to the outside closest to the rioters with a wakizashi on one hip and a wristbreaking 50-caliber revolver on the other, carrying a pump-fed short-barreled shotgun. She would never have considered either gun on any mission requiring stealth, not with the ear-blasting noise they made when fired, but as manstoppers they were hard to match.

Fighting to keep from constantly fidgeting and rechecking the readiness of her weapons, Soo Mi glanced sideways at what she could see of her longtime partner in training Kubo Parekura in the dim emergency lights — the only type of partner either had ever had, this was their first real engagement. He had chosen to silently express his own unhappiness with the whole situation by showing up at his assigned post bearing the traditional wakizashi and throwing knives. They had each looked over the other's chosen arsenal in disapproval, but neither had said anything. Not only did they genuinely like each other, but it wasn't their place to rebuke each other's choice. Besides, it isn't like we'll actually have to use them, she reassured herself yet again, her glance shifting back to the door as she refused to uselessly wipe hands on her pants that felt like they ought to be sweaty inside their gloves. After all, they have to get through the defenses first, and those defenses have their own battery packs so the power outage won't affect them. Not that the mob seems to be coming, not a single explosion or gun firing out —

The door exploded.

Actually, the catch of the door exploded, and it must have been a shaped charge of some sort because most of the blast was aimed straight at Parekura standing in front of it, smashing him back with a bubbling shriek. Soo Mi caught the edge of the blast, a blow to her shoulder spinning her around as she simultaneously felt her side peppered with lancing stabs, but she kept to her feet. She glanced down at Parekura on the floor and felt her gorge rise at the sight of the shattered ruin of his chest and the chewed up, spilling guts below, the slowly spreading dark pool around him. He was still alive somehow, but not for long and she was grateful for the dim emergency lighting in the corridor that hid so much of the details of her dying friend.

The door sprang back along its track into the wall with a shriek of metal on metal, and Soo Mi looked up to see a massive human figure framed in the doorway by the moonlight from outside. Instantly, she spun to face him and hastily backed up as she lifted her shotgun and fired. The figure staggered as he took the load of spreading buckshot to the chest, and even as he fell and the person behind him tripped and sprawled over what had to be a corpse Soo Mi jacked the slide to chamber the next shell — and felt the slide slam to a halt halfway down the barrel. She glanced down to see a jagged piece of shrapnel sticking out the side of the shotgun's action and dropped it to scrabble at the revolver at her side.

Another figure leaped over her kill and the rioter that had tripped over him, from the way he moved no commoner, with a throwing knife in each hand and she was still scrabbling at her gun and it was her wounded shoulder, but she didn't have time to switch to a crossdraw. Then her gun was free and rising her other hand catching it to brace her wrist, but one of her attacker's hands flickered even as her gun was rising and she pulled the trigger and her view of the doorway was washed away by the massive muzzle flash of the deafening gunshots.

But she couldn't breathe, she was choking, and she dropped the gun as her hands went up to her throat to find a knife hilt. She felt her knees hit the floor, then the floor rose to hit her in the face. Rolling onto her side, she looked through the sparkling afterimage of the muzzle flash as it faded from sight along with what little she could see of the hallway beyond it and more dark figures coming through the open door behind the rising boy that had tripped. She rolled onto her back and tried to push herself up as the world went black.

/\

Hiroshi pushed himself to his feet and stared down at the dimly lit body in front of him. The girl didn't look any older than he was, and if he hadn't tripped she would have ... have ... He leaned against the wall as he started to shake.

One of the men streaming past into the mansion paused. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Hiroshi nodded jerkily and straightened. “Yeah, just a really close call — first time being clumsy saved my life. Go on, I'll be fine.”

The stranger nodded and knelt to pick up the handcannon beside the dead ninja before he hurried away toward the sounds of smashing pottery and furniture already coming toward them from within the building.

Hiroshi took a deep breath and looked around — no Daisuke. He should have been right behind me. Good thing he wasn't, or he'd be dead instead of whoever that was with the knives. He must have gone right past me in the dim light. After a moment Hiroshi shrugged and joined the stream of “rioters” moving into the mansion — if he couldn't find his friend, Daisuke would just have to look out for himself. It wasn't like he wouldn't see everyone else leaving when the time came.

/oOo\

Okana Taisho sat in the same seat where he'd heard the scouts' reports of what was turning out to be the rather odd uprising in Nerima, again reading his trashy blood-sex-and-honor novel as he waited for word that the mob was moving on the mansion. He was having serious trouble concentrating on his reader and the screen-saver had come on once when he'd taken too long to turn a page — he was going to have to reread it all later — but it looked better than pacing.

Then his book vanished from the screen to be replaced by the face of Sasaki Shiro, one of the scouts. “They're on the move, boss, going over the walls right now.”

Taisho instantly straightened. “Excellent! Along which route do you think they've soaked up more of the automated defenses?”

“None,” the scout replied, “the defenses aren't working.”

“Not at all? !” Taisho asked incredulously.

“They started up, you can see the guns sticking up from the wall, but they froze up and haven't fired a single shot. We can't see over the wall, of course, but we aren't hearing any mines going off either, and I can't imagine that the defenses wouldn't include them. Seems to me that Kuno's been hacked.”

Taisho stared at his subordinate, trying the process the thought — his own team didn't have a hacker, he hadn't even considered including one because of the kind of security the major Families and Clans had protecting their home networks. But maybe our patron's hired one, and is clearing our path? Whatever, we need to move. Shaking himself free of his introspection, he said, “In that case, we'll take a slight detour and go over the wall to the left of the ... mob, whatever. That'll give us a clear run into the mansion to look for our targets, we can find the local bodies we need to spice up the scene afterward. Map us out a route to the estate and make sure it's clear while I get everyone moving.”

Shiro acknowledged the order and signed off, and Taisho hit the icon for an all-call to his lieutenants.

/oOo\

Izumi Noa fought against her rising unease as she silently soared through the night air toward the Kuno estate. Asuma had been right when he'd said she loved their little tanks, but he'd politely ignored her hatred of the powered gliders. Not that she wasn't good with them, she was — the slim build and lack of height that made her perfect for the police tanks were just as big an advantage for the gliders. But as she swept down toward the Kuno mansion with the burning government building and slave auction center behind her, she reflected again that the gliders had their downsides as well and the first was how far out in front they often placed the people using them. That was the point, of course, to get people into place long before they might be able to through possibly rioter-infested streets. But it could feel very lonely.

She floated over the Kuno estate and watched the shouting mob cresting the walls and streaming toward the building (automated defenses totally silent, and she resolved to bury her questions about how Setsuna knew that would be the case in the darkest corners of her mind never to see the light of day). Then she was flaring down toward the mansion's roof (or one of them, rather), hitting the quick releases that freed her from the straps holding her to the glider and dropping the last few yards to a peaked roof. As soon as her footing was secure, she swung her night-scoped rifle from off her back, secured its lanyard around her wrist so she wouldn't lose it even if she slipped and dropped it, and chambered a round. This was the other aspect of using the gliders that she hated. In the mini-tanks, nonlethal force was not only possible, but the norm — between the armor, the stability granted by their structure and sheer weight, and the mutual support they could provide each other, they were the next thing to invulnerable from the usual run of rioting commoners, and that security gave the police the freedom to use softer means to dispel mobs. The same could not be said for those sent in by glider, where nonlethal force simply gave a mob permission to overrun their isolated positions. The fact that their opponents were going to be street samurai rather than the usual common mob just made it worse. She was going to have to kill this night, and she wasn't looking forward to her dreams for the weeks it would take the memories to fade.

Worry about it later. Her roof's peak ran across the path the attacking mercenaries would be using for their approach (something else she had no intention of asking Setsuna how she knew), so Noa chose a spot that provided an excellent view and good cover, then tapped the all-channel on her wrist communicator. “Count off,” she murmured into the microphone built into her helmet. As she swept her rifle's scope along the top of the Kuno estate wall, she listened to the rest of her team report along with their readiness status and hoped that Lieutenant Shinohara and Setsuna didn't dawdle.

/oOo\

“We're there,” Setsuna announced from where she sat in the front seat of a tank hauler, sandwiched between the driver and Lieutenant Shinohara Asuma.

Asuma glanced down at the map displayed on the tablet in his temporary employer's lap and nodded before activating his all-channel. “All right, this is as far as the trucks go,” he announced. “Let's get the tanks off and ready to roll. No dawdling, we have people waiting for us.”

The drivers chorused back their acknowledgments as his and Setsuna's ride braked to an easy stop. As soon as the truck came to a stop, Asuma pushed open the door and hopped out, eyes sweeping the doorways and windows of the homes along the street as Setsuna climbed down behind him and the patrolmen riding on the back of the truck started releasing the chains holding the two tanks on the truck bed.

As Setsuna finished climbing down from the truck's cab, car headlights flashed from a nearby alley. As a quarter of the patrolmen on guard whirled to face the alley mouth, a limousine slowly pulled out into the street. Setsuna relaxed at the sight. “Careful, everyone, they're with me!” she called out. Asuma quirked an eyebrow at her but didn't say anything as the limo's driver side door opened and a large man slowly got out, empty hands in clear sight, and Asuma instantly recognized him as one of those that had accompanied Setsuna on earlier visits to their farm encampment. He wasn't the only one that recognized the burly bodyguard, and the patrolmen facing the limo relaxed, a murmur sweeping back as they passed the word to those whose areas of responsibility had kept them from seeing what was going on.

“You remember Genpaku-san?” Setsuna asked the lieutenant.

Asuma nodded and bowed shallowly to the mercenary (officially a mercenary, at least, though Setsuna had been his only employer). “I do. I presume you'll be coming with us?” he asked the bodyguard.

Genpaku returned the bow, his own slightly deeper than Asuma's. “Of course,” he replied. “Motoyuki-san and I will watch over Meioh-san, and that will leave you free to focus on seeing off the assassins.”

“Excellent,” Asuma said, then on hearing a clanking roar behind him turned to watch as the first of the tanks was backed down the ramp from the back of the truck. Turning back to Setsuna and her bodyguard as the sounds of the other tanks doing the same filled the street, he said to the emerald-haired woman, “I suppose it's pointless to ask you to stay behind where you'll be safe?”

“I can't imagine anywhere in Nerima where I'd be safer than with you, Lieutenant,” Setsuna responded instantly with a faintly humorous smile.

Asuma sighed. “I knew you were going to say that. Very well, we'll be advancing along three streets. I want you in that mobile fortress you call a limousine behind the advance of the middle force. I'll detail a few tanks behind you as a rearguard. I expect you to stay in that limo until it's safe.”

“Of course, Lieutenant,” Setsuna said. “I have much too much to do still to die in a minor skirmish.”

Asuma shot her a sharp look ... this time she'd sounded completely serious, but there'd been an undertone of weariness that he didn't understand. But a moment's reflection didn't reveal all in a revelatory blaze of glory, so he shrugged internally. “You have one of our communicators,” he said. “Go ahead and get into your car and wait for my orders. We'll be ready to move soon”

Setsuna nodded and walked toward the waiting vehicle, where the front passenger door opened and Motoyuki climbed out to open the back passenger side door for her.

As Genpaku turned to follow, Asuma caught his arm. “Make sure she stays in the car until I say it's safe,” he murmured.

Genpaku shrugged. “I'll try, but don't forget that she's the boss, not me. As always, she'll do as she pleases.”

Asuma grimaced. “Well, do what you can.” Genpaku nodded before returning to the limo, and Asuma turned back to check on the unloading of the mini-tanks.