Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover With Non-anime Series Fan Fiction ❯ Soldier, Sailor, Jedi, Sith ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 8 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Emerald green blade clashed against blood red, strobing the yard of the Shrine with electrical discharges. The two combatants separated for a moment, after they gauged their opponent's strength. "You are indeed strong, Jupiter," Darth Kuno said. "It will be my pleasure to date you if you win."
"Over my dead body," Makoto shouted.
"Wow, Mako-chan's not even swooning for this hunk," Usagi said to Rei, quietly.
"I think the waves of evil flowing from him might be a turn off," the shrine maiden and Senshi from Mars replied, just as quietly. "Either that, or the lethal intent this 'Darth Kuno' has, Usagi."
"Then, if that is the case, so be it. I attack!" Kuno attacked with renewed vigor.
Block, parry, dodge. Block, parry, dodge. Block, parry, dodge. It was all Makoto could do to keep her head attached to her shoulders. The fight slowly began to resemble some sort of Hong Kong martial arts movie, the way Makoto was avoiding Kuno's blood red blade. Her brother's training in Musabetsu Kakutou was evident, at the way the Senshi of Jupiter proved just how flexible she was, and, at the same time, kept flashing Kuno.
It was evidently working, since the Sith apprentice was beginning to suffer from the continual distraction. Makoto saw an opportunity, and launched her attack against the pervert. A flurry of green blade against red blade, pressed the Japanese Sith back, forcing him to retreat. As Kuno blocked one attack, Makoto made a subtle shift in the downward stroke. Her blade sliced through the grip of Kuno's saber, and through his wrist, severing the hand from the rest of his arm.
Bastet rose from her position. "Sailorrr Jupiterrr wins by disarrrm. Most imprrresive, Jupiterrr; most imprrresive. Come my young apprrrentice." Kuno nodded slowly, the shock of losing his hand at the wrist apparent as he cradled the injured limb. The Sith catgirl turned towards the Senshi. "Do not think that this little sparrr will end my quest for Tarrrquin Lim," she hissed, as the two Sith left the Shrine grounds.
"Wow, Mako-chan. That was unbelievable."
"Was it really necessary to slice his hand off?"
Makoto transformed back to her street clothes. "It was," she said full of regret. "It was either lose my head or cut his hand off. Those were the only conditions to win the spar.
"I'm going to go home and meditate, guys."
"Mako-chan," Usagi said, "if you need to talk about it, don't hesitate to call."
"Thanks Usagi," the Senshi of Jupiter said, before she began roof-hopping home.
00000
Tarquin sat in the anteroom of Setsuna's suites that the Council had assigned to her. Representatives from the various systems comprising the Republic were in and out of her quarters on a fairly regular basis, paying their respects to the Ambassador from the Silver Millennium. The Senator from the Blattidae Sector and his/her/its retinue stood across from the Jedi Master. The six foot tall arthropod was chittering slightly to one of his/her/its advisers. The door to Setsuna's office opened, and the Senshi of Pluto walked into the anteroom, with the Senator from Gotal, and a copper-colored protocol droid.
After saying her farewells to the Ambassador, she turned to her next appointment...and froze. "Cock...cock...cockroach! COCKROACH," she screamed in terror, when she saw the senator from Blattidae. She whipped out the Time Key from...somewhere, Tarquin noted with interest; and proceeded to pound the Senator to within a millimeter of his/her/its life.
Tarquin shot out of his chair, and grabbed the key-shaped staff before the third hit. "Setsuna, let's go into your office, and talk about this." As he led the shell shocked Princess of Pluto into her office, he looked at the crumpled form of the Senator. His/her/its fore appendages were splayed out in a warding gesture, as well as her/her/its antennae were standing straight out.
"Your Excellency," Tarquin said, apologetically, "please forgive the Ambassador this unseemly display of violence."
The Senator chittered, and Setsuna's protocol droid translated. "'We get that sort of reaction all the time. But what, pray tell, is a "cockroach"?'" Tarquin shrugged, and let the doors to the inner office close.
The Senshi of Time hugged her guardian tightly. "I hate cockroaches. I despise cockroaches. I loathe cockroaches. Why did it have to be a six-foot tall cockroach?"
Ranma woke, as that memory of Tarquin's bubbled to the surface of his subconscious. Setsuna was curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He adjusted slightly, to get the blood circulating back in his arm, and smiled to himself. I wonder if she still has that terrible fear of cockroaches. Closing his eyes, Ranma nodded off back to sleep, and pleasanter thoughts.
The doorbell began an incessant ringing at the Outers's house, even as the sun barely cracked over the horizon. Haruka, half asleep, staggered down to the door and opened it. "Wha' ya wan'?" She mumbled.
Makoto looked at the butch Senshi of Uranus standing there in naught but her birthday suit. It took her a minute to translate Haruka's mumble into a coherent question. "I need to speak to Ranma, Haruka."
"Ya, sure," the cropped blonde muttered. She headed up the stairs and pounded on Ranma and Setsuna's door.
A few moments later, Ranma came down, dressed in his Jedi robes. "What can I do for you, imouto-chan," he asked, as they walked out to the backyard. As they began warming up, Makoto told her brother what had happened that night; how Bastet showed up at the Shrine with her apprentice, what demands the Sith Lord made, how her apprentice challenged her to honorable combat, and his absurd proclamation.
The Senshi of Jupiter described the fight, how it took all of her skills just to keep her head attached to the rest of her body. Ranma listened, as an impartial third party, even as he diverted his sister's attention by taking her through a lightsaber drill. Makoto kept up with her brother's drill, even as she told him about a slight tremor in the Force, showing her two possibilities, one of which led to Darth Kuno's being disarmed. The two Jedi began their cool down exercises, and meditated on the sunrise.
"There comes a time in every Jedi's career," Ranma said, finally making his assessment of his sister's fight, "when they must take either life or limb, to save either the life of the person they are sworn to protect, or their own life. I have seen several Jedi either move dangerously close the Dark Side and become failed Jedi, or shun worldly goods and assume an ascetic existence as hermits in the back end of nowhere. All because they were unable to come to grips with the taking of a life.
"You have fought many battles as a Senshi, and taken life when you needed to, Makoto. As a Jedi, you may be called to take a life, to defend the greater good. I can see that you did no wrong, Mako-chan. What you did was justified, and within the codes of the Jedi."
"Thank you, big brother," Makoto said.
00000
Admiral Criofan sat in the command chair of his flagship, the Retribution. "Lt. Aubrey, signal to the fleet: 'Set Condition One, and prepare to enter the wormhole.'"
The Admiral's flag lieutenant turned from the console he stood at. "Yes Admiral." Lt. Aubrey walked over to the fleet communications station, and repeated the order to the technician there. Confirmations began appearing on the screen. "Admiral, the fleet has confirmed Condition One and standing by to enter the wormhole." The tactical holo-repeater showed the fleet arrayed around the flagship for battle.
"Very good. Captain Schenker, bring the ship to Condition One."
Captain Schenker looked down in the crew pits. "Set Condition One throughout the ship." Alarm klaxons began ringing across the bridge, lighting dimmed, and there was a faint shimmer through the viewports as the shields were raised. Stormtroopers arrived on the bridge. The Captain turned to the Admiral's command chair. "Admiral, your vessel is fully at your command."
"Take us in, Captain."
The cruiser's three massive primary and four smaller secondary sublight engines fired, propelling the mile-long warship towards the event horizon. Four small flashes could be seen in the distance, and the wormhole flashed open. It was a credit to Imperial science and technology that they were able to recreate the accident that sent their quarry across the universe.
The prow of the dagger-shaped warship crossed the horizon, and the Retribution flashed into nothingness. In ones and twos, the other ships in the formation penetrated the event horizon and crossed the gulf of space and time in the blink of an eye.
The formation of Imperial warships emerged in the Milky Way galaxy, 4.4 light-years from Sol, in a trinary star system, dead in space. Power systems throughout the warships had been knocked offline by the wormhole, as if they had been hit by ion cannons. Engineers worked frantically to restore power to the Imperial warships, before they turned into airless coffins. Slowly though, the ships returned to life, and engineers of restored ships shuttled between those ships where the engineers were having difficulties getting the power back on.
"Report!" Admiral Criofan shouted from his seat.
"Admiral," Lt. Aubrey said, "the fleet is currently in the process of restoring power, to those ships affected by the wormhole."
"Very well. As soon as the fleet is back to operational status, I want Astrogation to find out where we are. This does not look like the system that our quarry is in."
"Aye sir," Lt. Aubrey said to Criofan's retreating back.
A chime sounded in the flag quarters, waking the Admiral. "What is it," he growled into the intercom.
"Admiral, we've established where we are, based on triangulation of signals from Bastet's Infiltrator."
"So, Lieutenant, where are we?"
"We are just over a parsec from the star system she reported our quarry in."
"Very good. Status of the fleet?"
"Still not good, Admiral," Lt. Aubrey reported. "Emergency power has been restored to all ships, but main power is still down on several of our Victories, all of our Dreadnaughts, and the Siege.
"We have detected a small terrestrial planet orbiting the central star of this system; oxygen and nitrogen levels within tolerances; temperature within norms as well. Several asteroids are within a reasonable distance and appear to contain mineral resources."
"Very well then, we'll hunker down in this star system," Criofan said. "Once main power is restored on all vessels, deploy the repeater stations to anchor the wormhole in this system."
"Understood sir." Criofan shut off the intercom before his flag lieutenant could add anything further.
00000
With the wedding only a few hours away, Ranma was a ball of nerves at school, not that he'd admit it. His sister would have picked up on it, if she wasn't out of school getting ready for the wedding. The other Senshi were also out getting primped for wedding. It was a great relief when he left the school at lunch.
Mamoru was waiting for him at the Hikawa Shrine, wearing his mess dress uniform, although the jacket was hanging up. "You ready, Ranma?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," the pigtailed martial artist replied, adjusting his hakama and sash. They walked out of the room they were in, and towards the chapel.
Setsuna was cursing under her breath with every step she took. The formal wedding kimono she was wearing had been deliberately designed to make her take short, mincing steps, watching as she walked. It gave the Senshi of Pluto the appearance that she was the proper, demure Japanese housewife. Ranma's sister walked beside her as maid of honor, almost helping her brother's fiancée along. Setsuna looked up at her fiancé. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Ranma-kun?"
Ranma swallowed hard, and nodded. "I've told you I love you Setsuna. We should have done this years ago." Makoto and Mamoru nodded to each other, and escorted the couple in.
Rei's grandfather presided over the ceremony, with the Senshi of Mars assisting. Setsuna knelt there, wondering why she had agreed to have a traditional ceremony, even as the marriage certificates were signed. Although once Nodoka got in her "traditional samurai family" mode, it was next to impossible to get her off of it.
Hino-san cleared his throat, before beginning, drawing both participants' attention to him. "Mawwidge, that Bwessed Awwangement is what bwings us hewe today..." It was a shame that Hino-san had been inspired by Peter Cook's bishop from "A Princess Bride" when he performed his ceremonies.
Ignoring the basis of what Hino-san was babbling, Ranma looked over at his bride. Gods, she looks gorgeous. I feel so unworthy of her right now. Why is Hino-san speaking in that outrageously faked English accent? Is that a cramp I feel coming on? Maybe I should have stretched before getting dressed.
Hino-san got to the important part of the ceremony—the exchange of vows. "Do you Setsuna Meiou take Ranma Lim, to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
Setsuna looked at her fiancé. She had truly come to love the pigtailed man who had merged with her former lover's memories when he fell into that Spring. "I do."
Hino-san looked at Ranma. "Do you Ranma Saotome, son of Genma, son of Nodoka, take Setsuna Meiou to be your wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
Ranma had made his decision a month and a half ago, the night he was attacked by Bastet. "I do."
"The ring?" Mamoru handed Ranma a simple gold and platinum band. "Repeat after me, then. 'With this ring...'
"With this ring..."
"...'I, Ranma Saotome...'"
"...I, Ranma Saotome..."
"...'Wed thee, Setsuna.'"
"...Wed thee, Setsuna." With the last words spoken, Ranma slipped the ring on to Eilistraee's left ring finger.
"Then by the powers granted to me by Amaterasu-sama, I know pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Ranma pulled his wife into an embrace and kissed her. She responded in kind.
"Over my dead body," Makoto shouted.
"Wow, Mako-chan's not even swooning for this hunk," Usagi said to Rei, quietly.
"I think the waves of evil flowing from him might be a turn off," the shrine maiden and Senshi from Mars replied, just as quietly. "Either that, or the lethal intent this 'Darth Kuno' has, Usagi."
"Then, if that is the case, so be it. I attack!" Kuno attacked with renewed vigor.
Block, parry, dodge. Block, parry, dodge. Block, parry, dodge. It was all Makoto could do to keep her head attached to her shoulders. The fight slowly began to resemble some sort of Hong Kong martial arts movie, the way Makoto was avoiding Kuno's blood red blade. Her brother's training in Musabetsu Kakutou was evident, at the way the Senshi of Jupiter proved just how flexible she was, and, at the same time, kept flashing Kuno.
It was evidently working, since the Sith apprentice was beginning to suffer from the continual distraction. Makoto saw an opportunity, and launched her attack against the pervert. A flurry of green blade against red blade, pressed the Japanese Sith back, forcing him to retreat. As Kuno blocked one attack, Makoto made a subtle shift in the downward stroke. Her blade sliced through the grip of Kuno's saber, and through his wrist, severing the hand from the rest of his arm.
Bastet rose from her position. "Sailorrr Jupiterrr wins by disarrrm. Most imprrresive, Jupiterrr; most imprrresive. Come my young apprrrentice." Kuno nodded slowly, the shock of losing his hand at the wrist apparent as he cradled the injured limb. The Sith catgirl turned towards the Senshi. "Do not think that this little sparrr will end my quest for Tarrrquin Lim," she hissed, as the two Sith left the Shrine grounds.
"Wow, Mako-chan. That was unbelievable."
"Was it really necessary to slice his hand off?"
Makoto transformed back to her street clothes. "It was," she said full of regret. "It was either lose my head or cut his hand off. Those were the only conditions to win the spar.
"I'm going to go home and meditate, guys."
"Mako-chan," Usagi said, "if you need to talk about it, don't hesitate to call."
"Thanks Usagi," the Senshi of Jupiter said, before she began roof-hopping home.
00000
Tarquin sat in the anteroom of Setsuna's suites that the Council had assigned to her. Representatives from the various systems comprising the Republic were in and out of her quarters on a fairly regular basis, paying their respects to the Ambassador from the Silver Millennium. The Senator from the Blattidae Sector and his/her/its retinue stood across from the Jedi Master. The six foot tall arthropod was chittering slightly to one of his/her/its advisers. The door to Setsuna's office opened, and the Senshi of Pluto walked into the anteroom, with the Senator from Gotal, and a copper-colored protocol droid.
After saying her farewells to the Ambassador, she turned to her next appointment...and froze. "Cock...cock...cockroach! COCKROACH," she screamed in terror, when she saw the senator from Blattidae. She whipped out the Time Key from...somewhere, Tarquin noted with interest; and proceeded to pound the Senator to within a millimeter of his/her/its life.
Tarquin shot out of his chair, and grabbed the key-shaped staff before the third hit. "Setsuna, let's go into your office, and talk about this." As he led the shell shocked Princess of Pluto into her office, he looked at the crumpled form of the Senator. His/her/its fore appendages were splayed out in a warding gesture, as well as her/her/its antennae were standing straight out.
"Your Excellency," Tarquin said, apologetically, "please forgive the Ambassador this unseemly display of violence."
The Senator chittered, and Setsuna's protocol droid translated. "'We get that sort of reaction all the time. But what, pray tell, is a "cockroach"?'" Tarquin shrugged, and let the doors to the inner office close.
The Senshi of Time hugged her guardian tightly. "I hate cockroaches. I despise cockroaches. I loathe cockroaches. Why did it have to be a six-foot tall cockroach?"
Ranma woke, as that memory of Tarquin's bubbled to the surface of his subconscious. Setsuna was curled up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He adjusted slightly, to get the blood circulating back in his arm, and smiled to himself. I wonder if she still has that terrible fear of cockroaches. Closing his eyes, Ranma nodded off back to sleep, and pleasanter thoughts.
The doorbell began an incessant ringing at the Outers's house, even as the sun barely cracked over the horizon. Haruka, half asleep, staggered down to the door and opened it. "Wha' ya wan'?" She mumbled.
Makoto looked at the butch Senshi of Uranus standing there in naught but her birthday suit. It took her a minute to translate Haruka's mumble into a coherent question. "I need to speak to Ranma, Haruka."
"Ya, sure," the cropped blonde muttered. She headed up the stairs and pounded on Ranma and Setsuna's door.
A few moments later, Ranma came down, dressed in his Jedi robes. "What can I do for you, imouto-chan," he asked, as they walked out to the backyard. As they began warming up, Makoto told her brother what had happened that night; how Bastet showed up at the Shrine with her apprentice, what demands the Sith Lord made, how her apprentice challenged her to honorable combat, and his absurd proclamation.
The Senshi of Jupiter described the fight, how it took all of her skills just to keep her head attached to the rest of her body. Ranma listened, as an impartial third party, even as he diverted his sister's attention by taking her through a lightsaber drill. Makoto kept up with her brother's drill, even as she told him about a slight tremor in the Force, showing her two possibilities, one of which led to Darth Kuno's being disarmed. The two Jedi began their cool down exercises, and meditated on the sunrise.
"There comes a time in every Jedi's career," Ranma said, finally making his assessment of his sister's fight, "when they must take either life or limb, to save either the life of the person they are sworn to protect, or their own life. I have seen several Jedi either move dangerously close the Dark Side and become failed Jedi, or shun worldly goods and assume an ascetic existence as hermits in the back end of nowhere. All because they were unable to come to grips with the taking of a life.
"You have fought many battles as a Senshi, and taken life when you needed to, Makoto. As a Jedi, you may be called to take a life, to defend the greater good. I can see that you did no wrong, Mako-chan. What you did was justified, and within the codes of the Jedi."
"Thank you, big brother," Makoto said.
00000
Admiral Criofan sat in the command chair of his flagship, the Retribution. "Lt. Aubrey, signal to the fleet: 'Set Condition One, and prepare to enter the wormhole.'"
The Admiral's flag lieutenant turned from the console he stood at. "Yes Admiral." Lt. Aubrey walked over to the fleet communications station, and repeated the order to the technician there. Confirmations began appearing on the screen. "Admiral, the fleet has confirmed Condition One and standing by to enter the wormhole." The tactical holo-repeater showed the fleet arrayed around the flagship for battle.
"Very good. Captain Schenker, bring the ship to Condition One."
Captain Schenker looked down in the crew pits. "Set Condition One throughout the ship." Alarm klaxons began ringing across the bridge, lighting dimmed, and there was a faint shimmer through the viewports as the shields were raised. Stormtroopers arrived on the bridge. The Captain turned to the Admiral's command chair. "Admiral, your vessel is fully at your command."
"Take us in, Captain."
The cruiser's three massive primary and four smaller secondary sublight engines fired, propelling the mile-long warship towards the event horizon. Four small flashes could be seen in the distance, and the wormhole flashed open. It was a credit to Imperial science and technology that they were able to recreate the accident that sent their quarry across the universe.
The prow of the dagger-shaped warship crossed the horizon, and the Retribution flashed into nothingness. In ones and twos, the other ships in the formation penetrated the event horizon and crossed the gulf of space and time in the blink of an eye.
The formation of Imperial warships emerged in the Milky Way galaxy, 4.4 light-years from Sol, in a trinary star system, dead in space. Power systems throughout the warships had been knocked offline by the wormhole, as if they had been hit by ion cannons. Engineers worked frantically to restore power to the Imperial warships, before they turned into airless coffins. Slowly though, the ships returned to life, and engineers of restored ships shuttled between those ships where the engineers were having difficulties getting the power back on.
"Report!" Admiral Criofan shouted from his seat.
"Admiral," Lt. Aubrey said, "the fleet is currently in the process of restoring power, to those ships affected by the wormhole."
"Very well. As soon as the fleet is back to operational status, I want Astrogation to find out where we are. This does not look like the system that our quarry is in."
"Aye sir," Lt. Aubrey said to Criofan's retreating back.
A chime sounded in the flag quarters, waking the Admiral. "What is it," he growled into the intercom.
"Admiral, we've established where we are, based on triangulation of signals from Bastet's Infiltrator."
"So, Lieutenant, where are we?"
"We are just over a parsec from the star system she reported our quarry in."
"Very good. Status of the fleet?"
"Still not good, Admiral," Lt. Aubrey reported. "Emergency power has been restored to all ships, but main power is still down on several of our Victories, all of our Dreadnaughts, and the Siege.
"We have detected a small terrestrial planet orbiting the central star of this system; oxygen and nitrogen levels within tolerances; temperature within norms as well. Several asteroids are within a reasonable distance and appear to contain mineral resources."
"Very well then, we'll hunker down in this star system," Criofan said. "Once main power is restored on all vessels, deploy the repeater stations to anchor the wormhole in this system."
"Understood sir." Criofan shut off the intercom before his flag lieutenant could add anything further.
00000
With the wedding only a few hours away, Ranma was a ball of nerves at school, not that he'd admit it. His sister would have picked up on it, if she wasn't out of school getting ready for the wedding. The other Senshi were also out getting primped for wedding. It was a great relief when he left the school at lunch.
Mamoru was waiting for him at the Hikawa Shrine, wearing his mess dress uniform, although the jacket was hanging up. "You ready, Ranma?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," the pigtailed martial artist replied, adjusting his hakama and sash. They walked out of the room they were in, and towards the chapel.
Setsuna was cursing under her breath with every step she took. The formal wedding kimono she was wearing had been deliberately designed to make her take short, mincing steps, watching as she walked. It gave the Senshi of Pluto the appearance that she was the proper, demure Japanese housewife. Ranma's sister walked beside her as maid of honor, almost helping her brother's fiancée along. Setsuna looked up at her fiancé. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, Ranma-kun?"
Ranma swallowed hard, and nodded. "I've told you I love you Setsuna. We should have done this years ago." Makoto and Mamoru nodded to each other, and escorted the couple in.
Rei's grandfather presided over the ceremony, with the Senshi of Mars assisting. Setsuna knelt there, wondering why she had agreed to have a traditional ceremony, even as the marriage certificates were signed. Although once Nodoka got in her "traditional samurai family" mode, it was next to impossible to get her off of it.
Hino-san cleared his throat, before beginning, drawing both participants' attention to him. "Mawwidge, that Bwessed Awwangement is what bwings us hewe today..." It was a shame that Hino-san had been inspired by Peter Cook's bishop from "A Princess Bride" when he performed his ceremonies.
Ignoring the basis of what Hino-san was babbling, Ranma looked over at his bride. Gods, she looks gorgeous. I feel so unworthy of her right now. Why is Hino-san speaking in that outrageously faked English accent? Is that a cramp I feel coming on? Maybe I should have stretched before getting dressed.
Hino-san got to the important part of the ceremony—the exchange of vows. "Do you Setsuna Meiou take Ranma Lim, to be your wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
Setsuna looked at her fiancé. She had truly come to love the pigtailed man who had merged with her former lover's memories when he fell into that Spring. "I do."
Hino-san looked at Ranma. "Do you Ranma Saotome, son of Genma, son of Nodoka, take Setsuna Meiou to be your wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"
Ranma had made his decision a month and a half ago, the night he was attacked by Bastet. "I do."
"The ring?" Mamoru handed Ranma a simple gold and platinum band. "Repeat after me, then. 'With this ring...'
"With this ring..."
"...'I, Ranma Saotome...'"
"...I, Ranma Saotome..."
"...'Wed thee, Setsuna.'"
"...Wed thee, Setsuna." With the last words spoken, Ranma slipped the ring on to Eilistraee's left ring finger.
"Then by the powers granted to me by Amaterasu-sama, I know pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Ranma pulled his wife into an embrace and kissed her. She responded in kind.