Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ The situation is offically fubar. ( Chapter 62 )

I originally published this 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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Okana Taisho crouched in a doorway, listening to the occasional short comment from the scouts he'd sent to check the Kuno estate grounds, and waiting for their final word on the situation and hoping that the helicopter he'd seen was still focused on the government building and auction center.

It had been a quick run through Nerima's streets to their final jump-off points, and in some ways a disturbing one; it had certainly cemented how unusual this “riot” was. It wasn't the first he'd seen by a long shot, if not this up close and personal, and all the previous ones had included massive damage and looting of neighborhood businesses as the violence spilled out beyond their ostensible targets; not only was there no such spillage this time, but the only people he'd seen on the streets during their rush had the air of patrolmen in spite of their civilian clothing. He suspected they'd been tasked with making sure that the “rioters” or any copycats didn't get out of hand.

The whole situation was seriously bothering Taisho, it just didn't fit any of the patterns he knew. There were far too many “rioters” to be the usual precision strike his own team and the others that had joined it for this operation provided for whichever noble family was currently paying them. From the scouts' reports and what visuals they were able to supply, it was equally clear that they weren't thinly disguised soldiers from a noble's private army — most of the “rioters” were obvious commoners, and those that were fighters were just as obviously martial artists such as the lording was famous for, almost certainly locals. They couldn't be working for one of the noble families, and not just because of what it would take to bribe and/or blackmail that many people — there was no way to disguise the planned nature of the “riots” from anyone paying close attention, and Taisho couldn't imagine a bribe large enough to convince even a Shogun as corrupt as the current one to ignore using the masses of the common people as pawns in the Shadow War in any capacity other than spies, informers and hackers. But if this was a homegrown uprising, he also couldn't imagine what they hoped to accomplish. It wasn't as if the Shogun would allow them to murder their lord and install one of their own choosing —

He twitched slightly from his comlink earpiece's faint crackling as it came to life with the voice of the scout that had reported earlier. “Sasaki, here. Boss, my earlier report is confirmed, it looks like all the automated defenses are down inside the estate, not just along the walls. And the tail end of the mob is still pouring into the mansion, so I suspect what security there is has its attention pretty firmly fixed. We should be good to go.”

“Acknowledged,” Taisho responded, and switched to the all-units channel. “All teams, go, go, go!” He waited for a long moment for the first of his personal team to get up and moving, then joined in the rush out of their cover down the last half-block to the walls. Ahead of him, more ladders slammed against the wall beside the few the scouts had used — ordinary ones such as would be found at any construction site or farm rather than the light weight collapsible ones they would have typically used, more figleaf camouflage for their strike. The first of his force's main body swarmed up the ladders and dropped down into the mansion grounds; then the second wave, carrying more ladders with them so they could get out as easily as they'd gotten in. Then it was his turn.

/\

Izumi Noa swept her rifle's night vision scope along the stretch of wall that the street samurai were coming over, as her stomach turned to lead. It looked like there were as many within the estate grounds as her team could handle, assuming that the latest attackers weren't suicidally determined to get into the mansion proper. Shifting back to her own assigned bit of estate lawn, she took a deep breath, picked her first target, and said into her comlink, “Full team, go, go, go!” before she gently squeezed the trigger. The night vision scope blacked to protect her night sight from her rifle's strobing muzzle flash as her shot joined the first volley, then cleared to show her target dropping to the ground — limply, not the controlled drop his teammates would be using all around him; the shot had definitely gone home.

Not waiting to see if her first target was still moving, Noa ignored the numb feeling spreading through her soul as she swept to the left, acquired another target already flat on the ground and bringing his rifle to bear. She again squeezed the trigger as the first of the return fire cracked past her head. Time to shift position.

/\

Chae Kun Su bit her lip as she stared down from the roof of a nearby apartment building at the large strike force crossing the Kuno estate walls. She really wished Ma-zhi had survived Xian Pu's attack on what was left of the strike force against the Tendo compound — his immediate subordinate had been part of the actual attack, and hadn't made it back out of the abattoir the compound had turned into. In fact, she was the senior ninja left, assigned to one of the blocking forces, but her seniority was relative and until tonight any authority her minor ranking gave her purely theoretical. That hadn't been a problem, since her first hasty order had been obvious and happily accepted: “Return to the mansion as quickly as possible!” But then all contact with the mansion had been lost, they'd arrived to find a mob crossing the wall without hindrance from the automated defenses and presumably charging the mansion, and when she'd ordered everyone to shift to the left so that they could go around the mob and join the defense of the mansion, they'd found more invaders ... these ones armed with the modern weapons her own people lacked, and almost certainly trained in their use. And now she didn't know what to do!

As she was dithering between taking this group of invaders in the rear or going around them in another attempt to get into the mansion, in growing panic with a good half of the invaders over the wall, gunshots echoed out from inside the estate — distant shots, accompanied by surprised shouts and much closer shots. That has to be return fire, someone's engaged the ones inside! Kun Su thought, stiffening in momentary shock before shaking it off and straightening. With the other mob already over the wall and by this time almost certainly inside the mansion and absolutely certainly the focus of what few defenders the mansion still had, she couldn't imagine who would be engaging this second force. But it didn't matter, and relief swept through her as she realized that her own decision tree had just narrowed to a single point.

“Everyone, prepare to engage!” she ordered over the Tendo strike com network. “This side of the wall, only — leave the ones already over the wall to whoever's protecting the estate. On my word ... go!”

Even as she spoke, she flipped over the edge of her roof, landed crouched on a balcony railing that thankfully proved strong enough to bear her weight, dropped from there to the ground, and rushed to join the silent tide sweeping toward the half of the invaders still on the her side of the wall.

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Taisho instinctively threw himself flat on the lawn as the first shots flashed red all along the peaks of the roofs facing his strike force — an ambush! Six feet to his left, one of his flankers grunted explosively as a vague mist sprayed from his back; he dropped to the ground with an all too familiar limp finality. Taisho ignored the corpse to chamber a round in his rifle and scan along the border between the darker roof peak and slightly less dark nighttime sky, searching for a target (and absentmindedly cursing the lack of night vision scopes, but rioting — or even rebelling — commoners wouldn't have them, so his people couldn't, either). His mind was racing through the ramifications of the abruptly shifted circumstances. An ambush just didn't make sense — with the other “rioters” flooding into the mansion, whoever was engaging his people should have engaged the first ones crossing the wall, to keep as many on the other side of the wall as possible.

Unless they have enough to do some serious damage with a large enough target, but not enough to cover the entire perimeter, he thought, giving up looking for a specific target to scan along the entire roof, taking a rough estimate of the number of muzzle flashes. His stomach sank at the result—not enough to keep his people out of the mansion if they rushed it, but enough to do serious damage and likely produce more corpses than could be sanitized in the time available. This mission was officially snafued, time to call it a day. He silently thanked the Americans for their whimsical contributions to battle slang, as he sighed and again toggled the all-units channel. “All units inside the wall, mission is scrubbed. Scouts, cover fire, pull back behind us. Everyone else, sanitize the dead, bring the wounded and all communications equipment, let's get out of here.”

He rolled over to his left flanker's body, felt around for the helmet, and was just rising to his feet when a shout erupted over his comlink. “What the hell! Behind us! Behind — !” The shout broke off with a harsh scream, abruptly cut off, and Taisho whirled to race toward the wall they'd just come over. Someone was attacking his people from behind! He switched to his private channel with his second in command. “Yuji, re—” A massive blow between his shoulder blades smashed him off his feet. This time he never felt the lawn he slammed down onto.

/\

Dan Yuji ignored the confusion surrounding where he stood with his back to the Kuno estate wall as he listened to his comlink ... nothing. “Boss, you there?” he asked over the two's private channel. There was no response. There wasn't going to be a response — dead or badly wounded (and crucified once the lord's people found him — just one more nameless, and deniable, ronin) made no difference, his old friend wasn't going to be coming back over the wall. Yuji felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, and angrily wiped them away. Mourn later. You're in charge now, you have to get our people out of here.

He looked around at the furball of street samurai and ninjas around him. The ninjas' initial rush had been an almost complete surprise, with only a few brought down by scattered shots from the assigned rearguard, and now they and his own people were mixed together in a chaotic tangle of swearing, shouting, screaming shapes so intermingled in the night's shadows that you might not know if the man you'd just killed was friend or foe until you turned over the body — if you had time and freedom to check. His own flankers, a young married pair, were doing a magnificent job of keeping the new players away from him, but it wouldn't last. Not that time was an issue — not only was there no way they were getting into the mansion, they wouldn't be able to sanitize the bodies. No, though no one would be able to identify which of the Kuno Family's numerous enemies and rivals had ordered the strike, that one of them had done so would be clear. For a moment he wondered just what effect that would have on the Shadow War before shaking off the distraction and toggling the all-units channel. “All units, this is Dan Yjui. Okana-san is down and I am assuming command. Forget sanitation, break off, scatter, evade and exfiltrate.”

Duty done, he drew his knife and pistol and stepped forward to join his flankers. “Yuuta-san, Juri-san, head out, try and break free. I'm going to look for the boss.”

The two exchanged glances and shrugs before the husband said, “Lead the way, we're right behind you.” Juri nodded her agreement as she kept her eyes on the scrum around them, already shedding members as the street samurai on the edges broke away.

Yuji stuttered for a moment, before shrugging himself. They'd ceased to be under his command as soon as he'd given his order, he didn't have the time to talk them out of it, and it wasn't like he hadn't made the same decision. “Let's go, then.”

/oOo\

Crouching by the Kuno estate wall, Kun Su was dithering again. The fighting had actually been a relief, a moment of purity in a night marked by the morally shaky mission targeting the Tendos in the beginning and the confusion afterwards (for her, at least — someone obviously knew what he was doing). But the fight had turned out to be as brief as it had been brutal — no surrender asked for, but over quickly with the ronin scum scurrying for their holes. And now that it was over, she still couldn't reach anyone inside the mansion on her comlink, and she was faced with the question of whether she should order her own people over the wall in the face of armed defenders she couldn't talk to and that she suspected were not retainers of the Family. Remember what Taguchi-sensei said: better an imperfect decision now than a perfect decision later. But what had seemed simple in theory was proving incredibly difficult in practice. It was different when real lives were at stake.

Finally taking a deep breath, she glanced about at her gathered team leaders sitting on their heels in a half-circle around her. (She would have rather left them with their teams, but she was far enough down the leadership rankings that she didn't have access to a channel dedicated to the leaders alone.) “All right,” she started, “The ronin have fled and we've seen to our wounded, but contact with the mansion is still down and so we have no way of alerting its defenders of who we are. Nerang-san, your team will stay to help the walking wounded watch over the more seriously injured. The rest of us will move around to the north entrance and —”

Kun Su broke off as a new sound became audible — the deep growl of heavy engines, growing louder every second, punctuated by the occasional crunch of metal on metal. Someone else was joining the party. “Back to your teams,” she ordered as she rose to her feet. The other team leaders scattered, and she strode forward, crossing the street with the ambulatory survivors of her own team falling into place around her until they reached the nearest corner. They stared down the street as the roar grew louder, and the distant shapes of mini-tanks appeared out of the darkness, three across, the two flankers actually knocking aside the few cars parked along the street. Kun Su thought frantically, the hollow in her gut growing as she tried and failed to come up with some way ... any way ... that the primitively armed forces at her disposal could slow down the new enemy. If they are a new enemy, that is. Those tanks look a lot like those of the Shogun's heavy law enforcement unit assigned to Edo.

And then it became a moot point when the advancing tanks stopped. For long minutes they simply sat there as she felt her tension ratchet higher and higher. Well, we can't just stand around all night, she finally thought. “Wait here, I'm going to go see what they want,” she ordered the rest of her team. She strode past them and down the street toward the newcomers. Kun Su found herself fighting to keep from shaking. The main gun of the mini-tanks might have seemed laughable compared to those of their larger cousins, but it was still big enough to turn a car's engine into so much twisted scrap metal; thinking of what it would do to her was making her sick, and she was staring right down the barrel of the middle mini-tank.

As she approached, that mini-tank pulled forward to meet her, leaving its flankers behind. When she came within several body lengths it stopped, and a few moments later a hatch atop the cupola opened and a young man in the white shirt, dark blue pants and yellow combat vest and helmet of the Shogun's law enforcement security division levered himself up out of his vehicle and climbed down the front to join her. At the sight of the uniform Kun Su went light-headed with relief, staggering as her knees went wobbly. The tank driver caught her arm to steady her. “Patrolman Anzai Masuhiro,” he introduced himself. “It seems we're a little late to the party.”

“Chae Kun Su, retainer of the Kuno Family,” Kun Su responded. “As happy as I am to see you, I'm a little surprised to find the Shogun's people already here. I would have expected you to take much longer, considering how little warning we had before the ... the disturbances started. How close were you when the request for assistance was sent?”

Masuhiro grimaced. “Actually, we aren't working under official orders. We were using some personal time off to train some business security people in riot protection and control on the outskirts of the lording, and when the riots broke out Meioh-san asked us to help stop a Clan shadow strike force attacking under cover of the violence. Anyway, is everything under control here?”

“Yes, the honorless cowards broke and ran when we attacked them from the rear,” Kun Su replied. “By this point, I think the only thought in their heads is getting as far from Nerima as they can, as fast as they can run.”

Masuhiro opened his mouth, paused, then finally shrugged. “You get all that?” he asked empty air, listened, and stiffened. “She's what?” he shouted, turning around.

From behind the mini-tanks, a long limousine pulled forward and stopped in the space between the two flanking lead mini-tanks that Masuhiro had left empty when he'd driven his own mini-tank forward. A large man got out of the front passenger side and stepped back to open the rear passenger side door. He offered a hand, and helped out a tall woman, emerald-green hair framing a smiling face of ageless beauty, as another large man got out of the driver's side.

Kun Su realized she was gaping and snapped her mouth closed. “Is that Meioh Setsuna?” she gushed. “I love her styles! You were training her security team? Uhm ... what is she doing here?”

“Yes, that's Meioh Setsuna,” Masuhiro replied, rolling his eyes, “and I have no idea why a fashion designer wants to march into a battle zone. I suspect her bodyguards don't, either.”

The fashion legend caught the last as she approached and her lips quirked in a whimsical smile as she glanced at the two glowering men on each side of her, the man that had opened her door for her and the driver of the limousine. But the brief moment of levity ended, her expression turning bleak as she looked past Kun Su to survey what could be seen of the nighttime carnage. Then that, too, vanished as her face lost all expression and she focused on the Kuno ninja. In a quiet voice she said, “Chae-san, please forgive my bluntness, but time is of the essence. I need to speak with the head of Family Kuno as soon as possible, and I know you will want to get medical aid for your wounded.”

Kun Su realized she was gaping again and fought her expression back under control. “Y-Yes, of course I want medical aid, I've already sent a party to the hospital. But I'm afraid it isn't safe to enter the estate grounds — there are snipers on the mansion roof and our communications are down, we have no way to tell them we're friendly.” The best communications gear in the Empire, and no one brought a cellphone, she thought with whimsical despair as she remembered her worst wounded.

“Oh, that's no problem,” Setsuna replied. “The snipers aren't yours, they're mine — Lieutenant Shinohara's, rather — people sent ahead by powered glider. So if you'll assign some of your people to accompany us — me and my bodyguards — we can perhaps get that medical care to you that much faster.”

Kun Su turned to look at the line of people lying on the grass along the estate wall — some unconscious, others constantly shifting, low moans of pain too great to suppress filling the air. They'd carried first aid kits on their raid on the Tendo compound, of course, but not many; it hadn't seemed necessary for an attack on so few. It isn't like one fashion designer and a couple of bodyguards will make much difference to what's happening inside, especially with guards, she thought, and motion for the leaders of the two closest teams to join her. “Chihiro-kun, your team will accompany Meioh-san inside the mansion. Ngataria-kun, your team will go with them and head for the infirmary once inside.”

The middle-aged Japanese man and young Maori woman nodded, waved their teams forward, and within moments were gone along with Setsuna and her bodyguard, up the ladders the raiders had left behind and into the Kuno estate.

“And here I thought insanity was a trait of the nobility,” Kun Su muttered to herself, then was grateful the mask covering her lower face helped the darkness conceal her furious blush when Masuhiro laughed.

“I suspect it has more to do with the amount of money one has piled up than any title,” he said. Sobering, he added, “Now, why don't we pull what first aid kits we have in the tanks and see what we can do for your wounded until support arrives.”