Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ The Goddess Dilemma ❯ Fifteen ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer: I make no claims at ownership of any copyrighted characters, places or events used herein. The only thing I make a claim to is this fic, which originated in my head and any original characters created by me herein. The following was made for public consumption at zero profit, and is not for sale except to the owning companies. Yes, I dream big.

 

The Goddess Dilemma, part fifteen

 

By: Jim Ohki

 

**--(Battlestar Galactica, CIC)--**

 

The entire CIC was baited. The Admiral was in what many would consider *“the”* wireless conversation since the attacks on the Colonies.

 

“This is Seina Yamada, Captain of Tsunami's Sister and system liaison to the Galaxy Police. State your business in this area of space,” came over the speakers, beginning the slow process of dashing hopes for anybody that was listening in.

 

“Captain Yamada, we are all that remains of a twelve planet government spanning three systems. We have been searching for our lost brethren of Earth for the last four years now,” Adama answered the issued challenge, hopefully to the liking of the one in charge of the fleet out there.

 

“Colonial Battlestar Galactica, identify those ships that are attacking our defense perimeter,” came the voice of a female. Very faintly in the background chatter could be heard between a group of people. Of all the positions to be in, this was the absolute worst. He had been hoping to fill whomever they found in the Earth system in on the threat of the Cylons . . . and why they were so hell-bent on the extinction of all humans before the Toasters attacked.

 

“New DRADIS contact,” interrupted Lieutenant Gaeta. “Several fleets of ships have flanked the Cylons.”

 

On the display monitor, the dots representing the new arrivals were still in the process of transitioning from faster than light, which made them appear to move faster than the sublight engines were normally capable of. While the communications were on a secure frequency for the home fleet, now numbering well over eight hundred, it became obvious that play time was over.

 

“Incoming communication from the Cylons,” Petty Officer Dualla spoke up, then mumbled, “It's our favorite person in the galaxy again.”

 

“Don't shoot, we surrender!” screamed Gaius Baltar to any and all that would listen. In the background shorting electronics could be heard, along with the occasional console explosion. The ship he was on was zeroed in on with the help of the transmission, and isolated on DRADIS.

 

“And why should I accommodate you?” challenged Captain Yamada in return. There was more frustration in his voice than was there the last time he spoke, something that Adama was quite familiar with.

 

“Baltar, stuff it,” the Admiral interrupted. “You turned your back on humanity, and now you shall suffer along with the rest of your . . . *friends*.”

 

“You have to listen! Several of the human-forms onboard have revolted against the Cylon God! If nothing else, do you want to be responsible for the death of Hera?” he tried to plead his case. Baltar was many things, including being paranoid and doing everything he could to extend his life.

 

“FRAK YOU!” came the voice of Sharon `Athena' Agathon, one time Cylon now trusted Lieutenant of the Colonial Fleet. While she was in a Raptor that had no hope in the Hells of taking on and winning against anything, it wouldn't stop her from voicing her opinion. “You son of a bitch, I'll kill you!”

 

“You are to stand down immediately,” said Captain Yamada to the growing crowd of shouters. “And I mean EVERYBODY! Shut up and let me sort this damned mess out!”

 

Then the line went dead, but not from jamming or any sort of interference. There was much surprise and even a couple of owlish blinkers in the CIC.

 

**--(Battlefield between the moon and Mars)--**

 

When the Fifth through Ninth Fleets came roaring in from patrol of the outer system, they had come in weapons blazing. The Cylon Basestars were caught completely off guard at the flanking maneuver, thinking that they had engaged the entire fleet that these humans had. The clouds of Raiders stood no chance against the fighter squadrons of the recently dubbed Terran Republic, using many different designs from stolen Imperial TIE Interceptors to a modified variant of the A-Wing. Added into the mix were the converted Venture-class scouts. These Raptor equivalents were a major surprise as they had top of the line weaponry and shielding.

 

With yet another battle in the Sol system, the second in less than a week, those that had traveled across the dimensions were getting rather tired of the non-stop violence. Roughly thirty-three years of peace had left its' mark in the form of pacifism. Not that the cloned populace on Mars and those that had migrated to Earth would complain of some action, but a break would be nice.

 

They fought on, however. As the Raiders were thinned out from encountering such an unknown variable in the form of ultra-fast fighters with an unknown weapon, the Basestars found themselves in a straight fight for survival with the patrol craft (good for killing fighters), frigates (good for killing Heavy Raiders and Transports), destroyers (good for killing Resurrection-class vessels and their light escorts) and heavy cruisers (good for capital ship combat). The standard rail gun shells did have an impact on the shields, but it took sustained fire on the same spot to force the electromagnetic field to collapse. Standard warhead missiles had the same problem, and nuclear missiles had to be cluster-fired to get through.

 

The Cylons attempted to maneuver themselves into a broadsides fight instead of the nose-to-nose engagement they were currently losing. Being flanked hadn't helped matters any as their rear guard defense was one of the few weaknesses their formations had. They knew that reinforcements were en route and just had to hold out long enough for them to arrive.

 

**--(Command Bunker, Nerima Ruins)--**

 

“You have got to be kidding me,” deadpanned Misaki, displaced Second Queen of Jurai. She and her sister/wife Funaho had remained on Earth while Tenchi and his family headed to Jurai to assume control of the Throne and hopefully quell the Civil War before it turned into the first Galactic War in millennia. “Can't we get a break?”

 

“Apparently not,” commented Funaho. “We just got word from Seina, the Prometheus is missing and presumed to not be in this dimension.”

 

“There goes the neighborhood,” quipped Junior before turning serious. “We're as ready as we can be planet-side for any type of assault. The refugees are entering the atmosphere and landing all over the globe. The Marines are keeping our guests confined to their transports until we can sort this mess out.” While the defected Queens were in on the decision making process, they weren't the ones with the final say. As Seina was currently dealing with a rowdy fight in space that dubious honor fell to the elder children of the Saotome Family.

 

“Planetary shields are not yet operational,” added Hairbrush, “The shield systems around the turrets and anti-ship batteries are functional though.”

 

“Incoming!” screamed out Ranko. She had been drafted into service upon the suspicion that their parents were on the road again. Her job had been to watch the plotter in case the enemy decided their nifty Jump Drive would be a good way to attack the planet. When they did, all she had to do was smack the clichéd red button to sound the air raid sirens and activate the ground defenses.

 

Screams of fright echoed through the Nerima Ruins as the civilians ran for the newly constructed shelters. Those in the Command Center knew that the scene was repeating itself across the planet.

 

It was a cloudless night, the first in a great while. The stars and orbital firefight were easy to see, as was the radiation surge from a Cylon Basestar jumping just outside the atmosphere. Even as the Raiders launched the skies were lit with the fire from the ground below. Everything opened up at once, the laser rounds like tracers in the night.

 

The Cylons knew their plan had backfired when they discovered the shields that surrounded the ground-based turrets. The anti-ship batteries were eating the Basestar with a vengeance, debris raining down to the now empty streets below. They had become desperate, a rare feat for a machine and decided that a nuclear attack would be a good idea. As the missiles launched they were again surprised as a ground based point defense system came to life.

 

“Arm the torpedo launchers,” ordered Junior, his eyes narrowed in anger that somebody had dared to attempt another orbital bombardment. “One transphasic special to go.”

 

Those on the ground had little way of knowing that their battle was being watched by those still fighting in orbit. So when the green-tinted torpedo was launched the Cylons paused. So far all they had encountered were red and silver colored missiles and were curious what these green ones would do.

 

**--(Tsunami's Sister, Battlefield between the moon and Mars)--**

 

“Shit, there goes our ace in the hole,” swore Amane as the lone Basestar in high orbit was vaporized by the transphasic torpedo launched from the planet. They could see the turrets still firing at the Raiders in the atmosphere as they attempted a retreat. “The point defense system on Earth seems to work well, at least according to Funaho.”

 

“Doesn't matter now,” stressed Seina. “Order all vessels weapons free, no restrictions on targets.”

 

“Would somebody please listen to me?” screamed Baltar again, this time from an unarmed transport. “Stop shooting at us, we've no weapons!”

 

“And I should accommodate you, why?” challenged Seina again, getting rubbed seven degrees of the wrong way by the loud-mouthed human defector.

 

“Because of the child Hera! If nothing else, would you at least let us give her to you before we're executed?” came the desperate response. While his wives watched, waiting for an answer Seina scowled. Something that the women in his life had learned was a BAD thing, especially in the middle of a firefight.

 

“You wish to surrender a child to us? Fine,” Seina declared, his voice raised in anger that a child was even involved. “Set course for the nearest Super Star Destroyer, heave-to and prepare to be boarded!”

 

“The Demolition is en route to your location,” chimed in Kiriko. “You can't miss her. Come in on heading one-zero-three mark two-two and cut engines at five thousand kilometers. They`ll do the rest.”

 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” chanted Baltar before the line was terminated by a now irate Seina.

 

“Son of a bitch, I hate it when people pull this shit involving innocent children in a goddamned firefight as a bargaining chip,” he ranted, a rare feat indeed. The memory of Kasumi's loss was fresh in his mind, especially considering she had come to him shortly before that ill-fated mission with a favor . . . that he would look after them, and Ranma himself, if anything happened to her.

 

“Here we go again,” whispered Neju to the other wives. The death of Kasumi's children had hit Seina almost as hard as the biological parents. He had withdrawn into himself for months, at least when the situation didn't take his mind off of the issue.

 

“Damn it Ranma, where are you?” muttered Seina, wanting out of the situation. Of course he had no way of knowing just what kind of chaos the Saotome family was up to.

 

**--(Prometheus, on the road again; Universe E; day fifteen)--**

 

“At least we have main power again,” quipped Ranma in the shared quarters. He had gone into Engineering to pester the crews about it, only to have to lend a hand getting the freshly installed core up and running.

 

“This universe is seven degrees of weird,” commented Kasumi, reading the data on a PADD and launching the briefing from next to a view-port. “One again we find ourselves in the middle of a galactic conflict, but this time one of the sides is Earth. It's like a giant chess game that constantly stalemates, Earth wins some decisive battles then loses just as many. Most of the population doesn't even know what's going on.”

 

“Their internet is quite similar to ours,” added Nabiki from one of the recliners, “Once I got into the defense mainframes I located a classified project in the North American Rocky Mountains, Colorado to be exact. There is very little in the way of a paper trail, just the personnel stationed there along with the project designation Stargate. This whole planet is so similar to ours it`s not even funny. Even the maps match. Very creepy.”

 

“That ship that launched from Nevada has a decent sensor package,” chimed in Ukyo from her spot on the couch. “They apparently can't see our engine exhaust trail or through solid objects however, as they are in a geo-synchronous orbit and holding station.”

 

“It looks like they're waiting for something,” said Xian as she sat beside Ukyo.

 

“Repairs are as complete as they're going to get outside of dry-dock,” reported Karin as she reclined in the other available chair. “Weapons, shields and the cloak work. However, the Multi Vector Assault mode is fried with the damaged received to the stardrive section.”

 

“I want to go home and sleep,” complained Urd from the other side of Ukyo, taking the third and final spot on the couch.

 

“Non, I just hope everything is quiet at home,” stated Peorth, while subtly looking at Hild as they both stood side by side.

 

“Hey, don't give me that,” protested the Demon Queen. “I left standing orders for the armies of Hell to stay put and make no move without my express permission. I won`t make the same mistake twice.”

 

“Enough,” deadpanned Taki as she propped herself up on the desk. “We either have to find our way back or wait for a rescue. Then we can squabble like children.”

 

The conversation died at that point, the females present looking to Ranma as if he alone had the answers to their problems. Instead of rising to their bait and getting involved in the current quagmire, he opted to take a sonic shower.

 

Just as he reached the bathroom, the alert klaxon sounded and the communication line came to life. “Admirals, sensors have detected three ships inbound to the planet at hypervelocity, and the defense grid just went to maximum alert status.”

 

“We'll be right up,” barked Ranma, a look of irritation on his face. Why is it that every time he wants to take a decent shower he gets interrupted by one thing or another?

 

On the bridge, the lift doors opened and admitted the leaders onto the deck. Several Second and full Lieutenants vacated specific posts as the Admirals preferred a more `hands-on' approach.

 

“All right, what kind of havoc is about to be unleashed now?” demanded Ranma, not having to give out orders to have the ship ready weapons and shields as that was already accomplished.

 

“Those inbound vessels are not friendlies,” Kasumi said from tactical as she read the sensor data. “They're coming in weapons hot and shields charged to maximum.”

 

“Another launch from Nevada, along with several more hypervelocity approaches,” added Ukyo from a science station. “The second inbound group is of a much different design, also coming in locked and loaded.”

 

On the viewer, the space in high Earth orbit over North America suddenly became very crowded. The ship that came up from the planet looked much like the first, a very boxy-looking paintbrush with a command tower set on the port side. Their apparent allies came out of hyperspace and took up a defensive posture, the flying pyramids looking lethal with the added weapons platforms melded to the four 'sides', while the rest were a smattering of standard looking frigates and destroyers.

 

Then the enemy appeared, and Ranma couldn't help himself.

 

“What is it with the bad guys insisting on flying doughnuts?” he joked with a straight face.

 

“Looks more like a class ring to me,” answered Kasumi, triggering a memory within the head of Ranma. Before she really understood what was happening an object sailed trough the air at her, that she caught with no effort. “Kasumi Tendo, Class of 1991, Furinkan High Valedictorian? My word, I haven't seen this ring in ages. Where did you find it?”

 

“It fell from the sky,” was the enigmatic response, one that made Kasumi close her eyes and left out a sigh of frustration. “We'll talk about it later, right now it seems like a fight is about to erupt and I have no popcorn.”

 

Sure enough, as soon as the words left his mouth the flying rings (doughnuts, whatever) opened fire and showed to the Saotome Family that the defenders were severely outgunned. Everything that they threw at the white ships the shields absorbed with ease, illuminating the fact that Ranma had ordered the same thing in the brief war with Jurai.

 

“This is the USAF Mercury to any combat capable vessels near Earth, requesting immediate assistance. We're under attack by the Ori, repeat we are under attack!”

 

“Slip us in close, let's see how good this universe is with their technology,” stated Ranma to Karin as she manipulated the helm.

 

“Not that good if they can't see a cloaked ship that is damaged,” deadpanned Urd, her eagle-eyes scanning the battlefield for any sign that they had been spotted.

 

“Are the pulse phasers installed and operational?” wondered Peorth, her quick calculations noting the deficiencies in the shields protecting the doughnuts. The two Earth ships were using a rail gun system, while their allies all had varying degrees of simplified turbo lasers. The enemy used the same for its' base defense while the obvious Superlaser charged from the quick kill.

 

“Back us off, let's get a run at the port ship,” offered Taki, her quick sidebar with Hild having gone unnoticed.

 

“Let's crash the party and rock this joint,” declared Ranma, the thrill of space combat fueling his desire to blow something up.

 

**--(Home Universe, Nerima Ruins Command Bunker; day fourteen)--**

 

Mass confusion abounded as the firefight came closer and closer to Earth. There had been one waiting in the wings for an opportunity to strike and claim his ultimate revenge . . . and newest training victim.

 

“Help!” screamed Kato, the tike running full tilt into the command area. All heads turned in his direction at his cry, while the younger children of Ranma burst forth into the room.

 

“Yuri's gone!” exclaimed Chibi-Mara, crying heavily as she sought out Junior.

 

“What?” demanded the elder children, trying to make sense of the shouting and crying of their younger kin.

 

“There's nothing available for a sensor sweep,” chimed in Misaki, thinking several steps ahead and querying the plot table. “Everything is tied up with the fighting in progress.

 

“It was a bald, fat man wearing glasses and a dirty white training gi,” Penelope got out around her own tears. “We tried to fight him off, but once he had Yuri he simply vanished.”

 

“How the hell did he survive?” demanded Seina, the communication link established right before the young one had told of their attacker.

 

“Genma Saotome,” ground out Funaho, her rare rage boiling nicely. Having already lost almost all that was cherished, she had latched onto the children of Ranma in an effort to help heal her own bleeding heart.

 

“There's going to be hell to pay,” declared Hairbrush, his eyes showing the anger that burned within his soul.

 

“What's the emergency?” came the voice of Washu, from the Royal Palace on Jurai. When she was filled in, many had the feeling of a star having just gone nova. “I'll at the least get a message to them as soon as possible, then I'll work on getting them back.”

 

In the still considerable debris field that was once Nerima, a prefecture of Tokyo proper, Genma thought he'd finally beaten his son at his own game. Now to build the pit and try again . . .

 

**--(Universe E, High Earth Orbit battlefield)--**

 

Weapons fire flowed freely as the ships danced around each other. The defenders had learned in a quick order to stay in close and out of the minimum effective range of the main weapon. That and the Ori themselves weren't going to risk one of the three ships they had in this galaxy, not without reinforcements.

 

It came as a great surprise when a newcomer suddenly appeared from nowhere and attacked the leftmost ship. Ah, a weakness in the shields! Nobody had ever been able to get the drop on an Ori ship, and the reason was now obvious after the newest combatant destroyed the engines with just one pass and minimal firepower, sending it adrift.

 

As the newest ship to enter the fight came about at frightening speeds, the central Ori vessel lashed out with its' ship-killer weapon. To the immense surprise of those both in the fight and watching, the ship deftly dodged the attack and countered with their own weapons. The Ori ship actually bucked from the impact of the weapons fire slamming against the shields, before three silver-tinted missiles were launched at it. The missiles detonated against the shields, but severely weakened them as they had to absorb an absurd amount of energy that measured terra-joules into the quantum level.

 

**--(Prometheus)--**

 

“Pathetic,” deadpanned Ranma as the central ship nearly lost its' shields after the torpedo attack. “They're actually underpowered compared to us.”

 

“They make up for it with weapons,” Karin pointed out from the helm. “That's why they simply use that heavy plasma cannon to death, to kill off the enemy before they can penetrate the shields.”

 

“Their aft flank is the most vulnerable as there aren't any shield generators in the area,” added Kasumi from tactical. Yes, that's right. Ever since the loss of her children (to the Family) four years ago, she had taken a personal interest in weapons systems and tactical analysis to prevent such a loss from ever affecting them again.

 

“The next flyby is ready,” said Nabiki from navigation. Interstellar travel had become like a hobby to her, and she took great delight in thwarting the many pitfalls it entailed.

 

“The adrift ship is trying to land,” came the voice of Ukyo from one of the few science stations. Instead of watching death and destruction, she'd found that simple analysis of the surrounding battlefield made it bearable. Not to say she had a weak constitution, it was more like a major attack of the conscience.

 

“Tractor beam is ready,” reported Urd from the engineering station. This was an area that fell within her realm, at least partially with the computers being what they were on the ship. She had thought ahead and primed the beam to prevent the landing of the hostile craft.

 

“Incoming message,” suddenly broke in Peorth from the communications and astrophysics interface. Such a great modification to take the uber-long range sensors and the bothersome communications away from tactical, as it freed the operator to concentrate on the task at hand. “I don't believe it, it's from Washu . . . coded eyes only for Ranma and Karin? What?”

 

“All right, you know what to do. Send the message to the desk in the ready room,” stated a confused Ranma as he got out of the center chair. Karin was right behind him instantly as he walked across the bridge, Taki having taken over at the helm. Turns out the ninja loved to fly, especially in combat.

 

Xian and Hild looked at each other from either side of the `chair', and mutually decided that where they were was good enough. The battle waged as the Prometheus came around to tractor the ship that had landing thrusters only, preparing to use it as a bludgeon against one of the other vessels.

 

“NO!” suddenly screamed Karin, followed by an equally loud “SON OF A BITCH!” from Ranma. All eyes on the bridge turned to the door that led to the ready room, trying to imagine what had earned that type of reaction from the pair.

 

“Yuri . . .,” gasped out Kasumi, the only one that had a very good idea as to the catalyst. Having voiced the thought of the others turned out to be a moot point just moments later.

 

“GGEENNMMAA!” roared Ranma at the heavens, space, hell and all points in-between. That one name spoke volumes to those left behind on the bridge as the ship automatically carried out the inputted commands.

 

Apparently the door couldn't open fast enough as he came through the obstacle, sending the panels flying into the far wall. Taki and Nabiki had taken cover at the first sign of an enraged male parent, and that action kept their heads attached to their bodies.

 

Kasumi moved slowly away from the tactical display as Ranma stomped in her direction. Then he paused and turned in the direction of Peorth. She jumped out of the chair, making space for her currently homicidal husband.

 

“You there, attacking the planet,” he ground out after mashing the controls to transmit. “Leave this sector immediately or die. I don't care at the moment . . . in fact, give me justification to blow you out of space!”

 

The fighting stopped. If the other ships had eyes they would have been blinking owlishly, just like the crews on the respective bridges, at the sudden mood swing from the ship that had just been crippling the Ori vessels.

 

The response was to be fired upon, to which Ranma grinned evilly. “And now you will die!” he added, before mashing the buttons again and marching straight to tactical. Once there he almost smashed the station into oblivion in a barely controlled fit of rage, punching in a firing solution for the ultimate warhead.

 

Once again the fighting stopped, this time to watch the three green-tinted missiles head to one target each. The defenders ships would have added bug-eyes to the list of impossible things as these weapons ignored the shields and impacted on the hulls. Then the warhead went to work, and within moments the three Ori vessels, the only ships they had in the Milky Way Galaxy, were destroyed.

 

Then Ranma collapsed against the station, his rage turning into uncontrollable sorrow. It didn't take long for the females to get the now bawling hysterically pair back to their quarters, hopefully to get some answers.

 

**--(Family quarters, thirty minutes later)--**

 

Those that were not in the loop yet were baffled. Yes, they had a very good inkling of an idea as to what would set off Ranma like this, and the fact that it included Karin made it even more obvious. The thing that caused confusion is what would trigger such a negative response, other than the fact Genma Saotome was involved in another of his, supposedly, infamously stupid ideas.

 

Karin had fallen asleep, totally spent by the news that had reached them. One piece of news that did managed to soothe some of the fears was that Washu had a lock on the dimensional transponder that she had insisted be installed into every ship.

 

Ranma had drifted off, not that it lasted long. He entered, for the first time in thirty-two years by their perspective, `the Nightmare'.

 

“Daddy, not the pit again . . .,” cried the warrior in his sleep. There was no shame in his displaying of emotions, not after they had gotten the then young man to wake up to reality. There were some things, however, that still disturbed him to the core.

 

The Neko-Ken being number one on the list.

 

All breathing stopped, all blood ran cold. There would be one, and only one, reason why Ranma had regressed into the nightmares, and why he was so angry at his biological father. Taki, being the biological oldest (read bravest as the Goddesses and Demon Queen are way older than the human norm) available, even without the time displacement bit, was the one drafted to replay the message now that it had been decoded.

 

“Good, I found you!” came the cheerful voice of Washu, her facial expression remained happy for all of two seconds before turning deadly serious. “Ranma, Karin. I am the bearer of bad news. We had an unscheduled visitor and subsequent fight in the Sol system. During this fight, Yuri was abducted from the upper levels of the command bunker. The young ones tried to fight off the abductor, and when that failed they headed directly to their older siblings. Penelope described their attacker as `a bald, fat man wearing glasses and a dirty white training gi'. Some how, some way, Genma survived the bombing by the Juraian Navy. It was several moments ago that we finally had a satellite free to conduct a sensor sweep when we found the remains of a pit . . .”

 

The playback suddenly paused, the conscious wives looking at each other, silently asking if they should finish the rest of the message or if they should leave well enough alone. While they had been distracted, Ranma had moved from the couch to the air mattress that Karin was using, the pair crying in their sleep as their subconscious listened in on the happenings around them.

 

“. . . along with the body of Yuri,” continued the playback, to which they instantly regretted hearing. “Seina and his family are searching for him now, however they are still contending with an invasion while Tenchi and ourselves are on Jurai cleaning up the vacuum mess created when Azusa died. I'm working on getting you home, so just sit tight a while longer. There is a recovery team en route to the location, hopefully not heading there for a fatality.”

 

“POPS!” shouted Ranma as he bolted upright from his nightmares, looking about wildly before remembering where he was.

 

**--(Home Universe, Tsunami's Sister)--**

 

“These Cylons sure are persistent,” said Amane as the three hundred eighty-second Basestar jumped into the Sol system. Even though they were outgunned, the race of machines refused to yield to the superior force.

 

“Has Kimiko made it to the docks yet?” questioned Kiriko. She had been occupied with the planetary scans and hadn't had the opportunity to look for herself.

 

“She's there and they're almost done extracting her from the side of Galactica,” answered Ryoko, as it had been delegated to her to keep track of all traffic is the system at present.

 

“The Demolition has taken the Cylon transport ship aboard, no resistance from any of the passengers and the child is in our custody in the Infirmary,” reported Neju. “She's turning to retreat to the docks now.”

 

“Washu just sent a message,” chimed in Seina, never being one to sit back and let somebody else overwork themselves. “It reads: `Contact made. Expected reaction. Be advised time to gate completion unknown. Prometheus damaged, no warp drive'. Great, so they can't form the necessary warp bubble for the normal means to work.”

 

“Every combat ready ship is in system,” said Amane. “Our defense grid is at one hundred percent. Even the `Jump Drive' whatever won't work now that the Interdictor-class frigates have saturated the system with gravity.” That last bit was true, while the safeties in the drives would let a ship jump out of a gravity well, it outright refused to let one jump in.

 

“I've informed Galactica about the child and her present condition,” added Seina. “They send their gratitude and thanks for the `not spacing' of the mouth Baltar. Although they do demand to know why we haven`t spaced the half dozen Cylon human forms.”

 

On the outer perimeter of the Earth defense grid, the battle raged on. Ships died on both sides, another would take its' place and repeat. It was tedious, and getting old fast. Every time the Cylons grouped together for a run, the Terran Republic would make them pay for it in spades as the Eclipse would blow the formation, and at least four ships, apart. With the repair facility being right there, if a ship accumulated too much damage all they had to do was fall back for a quick repair job, hopefully long before the ship died, and back out they went. The Cylons had gotten close enough for another attempt at a long range shot at the planet, not caring if this was Earth or not. Humans were humans and they all had to die, as was the basic command written into their program code.

 

Turned out to be a bad idea as either the point defense onboard Colorado or the ground would always intercept the nuclear tipped missiles. Except for one, that the Cylons had experimented with thinking that the engines gave away the location of the weapon. The only problem with that was that there was no way to control the descent in the atmosphere, meaning the missile was going to go down SOMEWHERE.

 

For those on the planet, it was a good thing that the nuke was so far off course that it came down in the Pacific, forty miles from the nearest human. For the Cylons, the mushroom cloud turned into their death herald as the humans guarding the system turned extremely violent.

 

“What the hell?” demanded Ryoko as the nuke went off over the drink.

 

“That was far enough away that even the radioactive particles now in the jet stream won't affect but a few of the population,” said Kiriko, her fingers performing their dance on her keyboard as she sent orders to the ground to evacuate.

 

“The Kimiko and the Demolition are moving in to engage the enemy,” reported Amane. She was absolutely giddy with anticipation now, her own fingers flexing from time to time as she restrained herself from firing up the weapons systems at their disposal.

 

**--(Battlestar Galactica, CIC)--**

 

“These guys are good,” Adama had to admit it. It was a smooth ride to the dock that they found themselves in. Then their `taxi' began to back away while one of the energy cables held the old Battlestar in place and kept her from crumbling like paper. Those watching got a really good idea of just how big the ship they had been attached to was as it turned to port to engage the closing enemy.

 

“I've never seen engine exhaust look like blood,” commented Tigh after the monster ship had turned completely around, presenting them with an aft view.

 

“The power plant in that ship must be enormous,” said Roslin as her mind had difficulty wrapping itself around the concept of the power requirements of that behemoth.

 

“By the Gods,” choked out Gaeta. “Nuclear detonation on the planet!”

 

“Where?” demanded Adama, his eyes never leaving the DRADIS display over the pit. As he watched, the home fleet stopped `playing nice' with the Toasters.

 

“Remind me to never ever piss these people off,” came from an unexpected source in the form of President Roslin. Her commentary had been just seconds in front of Tigh with his usual sarcasm and wit.

 

“The nuke went off over an ocean,” reported Lieutenant Gaeta, the whole banter having taken no more than seven seconds. “The particles in the atmosphere are moving toward land, however it is being evacuated and casualties should be light.”

 

“Oh frak me,” deadpanned the Admiral three seconds after that. On the monitor he was watching like a hawk, the dots representing the Cylon Basestars were disappearing at an insane rate. His remark had silenced the CIC as, if the Admiral was supremely worried, if not even SCARED, about the situation then they should be too.

 

The Terran Republic, dubbed so by the galaxy at large (and sounding SO much better than the Earth Forces slogan), was in a blood frenzy. Just that one nuke had apparently unlocked the rage within, not a good proposition for the Cylons. The ships that had been simply wandering about at random, taking shots at targets of opportunity, suddenly formed into a solid wall. Then the green missiles reappeared, and the Basestars dropped like flies.

 

On the ground, the medical team had finally picked their way through the remaining debris field to the location of the pit and Yuri . . .

 

**--(Family Quarters, Prometheus)--**

 

Ranma was mad. Not just at his father and the fact that he hadn't killed him when he had the chance, but at himself for not being there to protect his children. That, and the hard work of his `brood' was undone in a single event.

 

One thing that really irked him was that Genma had started with the Neko-Ken this time, without going through the body conditioning. Something was really wrong with the man, as it seemed that he wanted to surpass Happosai with the sheer stupidity of the training.

 

As he sat next to the trembling in her sleep Karin, the door chime sounded. Hild answered, having been closest to the door at the time.

 

“What do you want?” she demanded, none of her previous pleasantness (for a Demon Queen anyway) present.

 

“We keep getting bombarded with hails,” said the Ensign that had drawn the short fiber-optic wire. She was a young one for the clones, no older than Ranko. Her features were a surprisingly attractive mish-mash from several of the Family women. “Even though we cloaked, they finally figured it out to look for the slight plasma leak we haven't been able to repair yet.”

 

“Great,” mumbled Taki as she entered the conversation. “What exactly do they want?”

 

“Other than the usual `who are you' and `nice weapons, can we have some' spiels,” added the Demon Queen. She had noticed that the Ensign really didn't want to be disturbing the Family during their grieving and general attempts to pull themselves back together and had curbed some of her icy tone.

 

“Well, they do insist on knowing our intentions,” conceded the young woman in front of the pair, slightly fidgeting and not making eye contact. “We have another message from Washu in the queue for Admirals Ranma and Karin to view (couldn`t help it, had to make a rhyme).”

 

“Really, well why didn't you say so?” came the voice of their leader as he stepped between the two at the door. “At any rate, you've done your task. Dismissed, and tell the others no more of this short straw shit.”

 

“Yes sir,” the Ensign nearly fell over herself in her haste to get away from the Family as they were still highly unstable.

 

Not wasting any time he moved over to the viewer and keyed up the message.

 

“Great news you two!” boomed the voice of Washu, the volume entirely too high causing the decorative bowl of fake fruit to vibrate across the coffee table. The also had the effects of creating blown back hair and waking Karin up. Once the volume was lowered the playback continued. “Yuri is ALIVE! Injured like nobody's business, but alive! Also, I'm bringing you home, so do avoid any contact with the natives and do NOT blow something up, it'll attract too much attention. Hang in there just a little longer!”

 

“YES!” shouted everybody in the room, the second half of the message already forgotten. This was a joyous occasion, champagne and finger food being passed around. Karin was crying again, this time tears of joy at knowing that her little boy was still with the living and was waiting for her to return. While the wives celebrated, Ranma took a moment to call the bridge and arrange a ship wide announcement.

 

“All hands, prepare for dimensional travel. Yellow alert and decloak the ship.”

 

No sooner had the Prometheus reappeared, right where those that had been bombarding the area with messages knew she was, an artificial tear in the space-time continuum opened up. The ship began to transition through, which blinded the sensors to the fact that one of the funky-looking paint brushes was following closely behind, the name Daedalus on the bow . . .

 

**--(Home Universe, day fifteen; TIME RESYNCRONIZED)--**

 

“Seina, there is a dimensional rift opening up twenty thousand kilometers away on the port side, twelve degrees off of the bow,” reported Kiriko after her station bleeped at her. The battle with the Cylons was still raging, however the Republic loses had dwindled to almost zero as the enemy reinforcements had to crawl at sublight speeds into the system.

 

“About time,” remarked Captain Yamada as he listened in on the fighter pilots that were having a field day with the Raiders.

 

“Starbuck, break off. I'm reading violent turbulence in the atmosphere of that gas giant,” came from the speaker, the voice belonging to Apollo. “Do you hear me? Break off! Starbuck! Break off! Damn it Kara, answer me! BREAK OFF!”

 

“Where are they?” demanded Amane, her eyes scanning the enlarged battlefield view on the plotter for the icons of the two Viper pilots.

 

“Jupiter, near the super-storm in the northern hemisphere,” answered Neju. “Wind velocities in the Giant Red Spot in excess of five hundred miles per hour at the moment but are fluctuating plus-minus one hundred. They've entered the upper atmosphere and are quickly approaching crush depth.”

 

“Gods damn it Kara, pull up! Can you hear me? I've lost you on DRADIS and am blind! Starbuck, pull up! Where the frak are you? Talk to me!” screamed Apollo, the desperation in his voice catching the attention of everybody that was listening.

 

“Lee, I'm no longer afraid,” was the answer.

 

“NO! KARA!! GODS NO!”

 

“Apollo, Galactica Actual. We're sending in the rescue birds, pull out,” came the voice of Admiral Adama, his own voice sounding strained.

 

“No dad, it's no good. Her ship's in pieces. We've lost her,” said an emotionally overloaded Lee as he pulled up and out of the gas giant.

 

“Somebody want to tell me what the shit is going on in my back yard?” suddenly demanded the voice of Ranma, having caught the radio chatter and noticing the weapons fire in the area.

 

“Glad to see you too,” deadpanned Seina, “Up here is contained for now, we know you have somewhere else to be.”

 

“Right, and would you like to explain the Eclipse now or later also?” queried Nabiki, her tone indicating her displeasure.

 

“I did what I had to,” declared Captain Yamada. “The system was in chaos with the new arrivals when we were attacked. I used it as one of the many tools at my disposal.”

 

“Right. Well, new orders to the fleet. Space the occupants of whomever shoots at us and commandeer their vessels,” barked an unhappy Ranma.

 

“Does that include your tailgater?” wondered Ryoko, for once beating Amane in spotting something.

 

“Shit,” was the simply put but not so elegant response from Ukyo. “Somebody call Washu, we have a problem.”

 

**--(Day sixteen)--**

 

Ranma and Karin had been left alone to visit with Yuri in the recovery ward of the hospital in the command bunker. Even the elder children stayed out of their time together, each finding comfort with their mothers. The night had been rough on everybody as the mood onboard Galactica had soured tenfold. Then there was the surprise in the form of the Daedalus, now stuck far away from home with a fairly pissed off command crew. On top of that was the sudden and unexplained surrender of the Cylons that took place before the first ship was `vacated' rather forcefully, which meant that there were now over a million, all that remained of the race, prisoners to deal with.

 

Then there were the refugees on the planets' surface, getting impatient to leave their ships and enjoy a breathable atmosphere that had a good climate. Formal introductions had yet to be made, let alone inoculations and vaccinations against diseases that neither side had ever been exposed to. The same went for the Daedalus, even though that crew was more inclined to sit at the entry point to this dimension and pout.

 

Having left Karin with Yuri and finished breakfast along with the morning workout, Ranma beamed aboard the Prometheus to begin the attempt to sort the mess out.

 

“Hail the Galactica,” he said as soon as he entered the bridge. The rest of the wives were planet-side while Seina and his entourage were in the midst of preparing the massive report that he wanted to explain the situation before they left for the Galaxy Police.

 

“This is Captain Agathon,” came an immediate reply, which surprised Ranma. “How can I help you?”

 

“I need to speak to the Admiral and the President,” he evenly stated. “Admiral Ranma Saotome calling.”

 

“Sir, I do apologize. Our times must be backwards, we are in the midst of the overnight shift,” was the reply to the not so subtle demand.

 

“I'm not in the mood. Wake them, shake them, bake them. I don't really care, but they will call me ASAP. Understood?” ground out the leader of the Republic Military.

 

“Yes sir,” was said sharply, as if the man on the other end of the line was having to restrain a great amount of anger.

 

While Ranma waited, he reviewed the other situations. The Cylons were behaving, insofar as the human forms. The Centurions had been recycled as reparation for the lost Republic vessels. The engineering crews were having a field day with the gelatin-like computer interfaces, seeing how such a link between mind and machine would improve response times.

 

On the ground, reconstruction from the Juraian Massacre was progressing nicely. The industrial replicators were manufacturing parts for the machinery needed to build a wide variety of the conveniences in life like roads, buildings, power plants, water pumps, water reclamation plants and whatever else was so desired. Construction crews were following the blueprints from the designers, either rebuilding things to pre-attack condition or erecting something completely new. On the plains of several countries, portable airlocks had finally been built to allow the refugees to leave their ships and receive whatever medical treatments they needed including the vaccinations.

 

“Hail the Daedalus,” he suddenly barked, nearly forgetting about them as they had been so quiet. He figured it would take the leaders of the Colonies some time to get their act together, even though a three-way conference call would shorten the amount of time it took to get everybody up to speed.

 

“It's about time,” deadpanned a soft yet gruffy voice. “If you'd done this earlier, we wouldn't be here. This is Brigadier General Jack O'Neil, supposed to be retired but in command of the USAF Daedalus. To whom am I speaking with?”

 

“The name's Ranma, the attitude isn't going to get you anywhere, and you shouldn't have stuck your nose where it doesn't belong,” he shot back, seven degrees of irritated at the tone the other man was taking with him. “I'm in charge of the fleet around you, as well as a fairly large army based on two planets. Now, explain to me why you followed us.”

 

“Incoming hail from the Galactica,” spoke up the Lieutenant on communications.

 

“Put them on three way conference,” he ordered.

 

“This is Admiral Adama, President Roslin will be with us shortly. Now, care to explain why this couldn't wait?”

 

Before Ranma could speak, the lift doors opened to reveal his wives. Although he had to keep on extra eye on Kasumi as she seemed depressed. “Wait one, I need to move to the conference room.” Once the entourage was seated around the table, the link was reactivated.

 

“This is an informal first contact. Admiral Adama, General O'Neil, welcome to the Sol system, the heart of the Terran Republic,” started Nabiki, the negotiator. “My name is Nabiki Saotome, Admiral of the Terran Navy and contact negotiations. We're calling to arrange a meeting onboard one of our vessels.”

 

“Now you wait just a minute, how are we supposed to go back?” demanded O'Neil, his desire to be fishing and eating a nice cake overwhelming his judgment.

 

“Until Washu Hakubi, a close confidant and brightest mind in any universe arrives from Jurai Prime with her family, you're in our dimension for the duration,” answered Kasumi. “Nice to speak to you, my name is Kasumi Saotome. Admiral of the Navy and pacifier to grumpy people who are riled up by my sister Nabiki.”

 

“How goes the treatment of our population?” came the voice of President Roslin. She had heard about the delay in getting the people off of the ships and was fishing for a plausible answer.

 

“The treatment is going well, the integration is not,” responded Peorth, her voice strained from the arguments she had to deal with from the Colonials about where they were going to settle. “Peorth Saotome, Admiral, logistics and personnel.”

 

“What about the ships themselves?” questioned Adama, the odd pattern of an apparent family running the show beginning to bother him.

 

“Junk the lot of it is. Most are no longer space worthy, no matter how much work we would attempt to put into them. Urd Saotome, Admiral, computer repair specialist and engineer.”

 

“Just who is this Washu person we're supposed to be waiting on?” asked a female voice just before her blunder caught up with her mind. “Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter, lead scientist onboard the Daedalus.”

 

“She's way smarter than us. Beyond that, you'd have to ask her yourselves. Taki Saotome, Admiral and part time pilot.”

 

The introductions continued along this vein for some time, before a face to face meeting was scheduled to take place in two hours time, although the sheer amount of people that were going to be present moved the location to the forward observatory on the Kimiko. Although those on the Daedalus were quick to understand the request for exact coordinates of their persons, those on the Galactica were completely confused.

 

Once the Family had moved onboard the Super-class Star Destroyer (Galactica was screaming on the wireless about how they did it without a shuttle), it didn't take log to get the negotiators from the Daedalus aboard.

 

Even though the Combat Information Center on Galactica was at the very core of the ship, putting it under many layers of armor, the transporters had little difficulty with obtaining an accurate lock on those that would be speaking for the Colonial people.

 

**--(Onboard TRN Kimiko; high Earth orbit)--**

 

The Family was waiting in the forward observatory when the chime of a transporter made itself known. The delegation from the Daedalus was the first to arrive, not at all looking surprised by the method of transit. There were five people total, three men and two women. All were dressed in a military coverall, although one of the males and one of the females moved like civilians. And something about that female screamed `watch me or I'll rob you blind'. Another of the males had an odd symbol apparently made out of gold attached to his forehead.

 

The chime sounded again, this time depositing the delegation from the Galactica. They looked panicked by the sudden change of scenery, having been in the CIC on the ancient Battlestar not two seconds ago. This was another of those technological wonders that made people like Adama very nervous, having very little trust in something that was so complicated and apparently easy to hijack with a computer attack. Their group consisted of three men and two women, four of the five in their version of military day uniforms. The fifth was wearing an old but still elegant pant suit.

 

“Welcome aboard the TRN ship Kimiko, I'm Admiral Ranma Saotome,” he began after everybody was seated. He was at the head of the elongated table, his wives sitting on his right while both delegations sat on his left. “To open this meeting and formal first contact, I'd like to know why forty thousand people suddenly appeared in this system.”

 

With that as the opening subject, the Colonials told their tale from the point of the first Cylon War to the Cylon Genocide to the events on New Caprica to the current situation. At first they weren't going to admit it, but just before they were `transported' over to this monstrosity of a ship they changed their minds. So they added on that they were the creators of the Cylons, even though to this day no one had ever figured out what had changed the programming in the artificial intelligences from `obey' to `kill'.

 

“I can tell you this much,” chimed in Nabiki, her mind calculating that the addition of the Colonials wasn't going to be too much of a problem, at least space and logistics wise. “The planet below is known by a few names. Some call it Sol III. Some call it Terra. A few radicals have even called it Gaia. Those of us that grew up on the surface call it Earth.”

 

“We found Earth?” gasped out President Roslin, her eyes as big as dinner plates. She looked at those in her party and could see the similar looks of disbelief on their faces. “Does any of our population know about this yet?”

 

“No ma'am,” answered Ukyo. “Our Marines on the surface have informed us that they are happy just to be off of those God-awful ships. Some have made passing inquires to their location, but most are too busy enjoying a newfound freedom.”

 

“That opens up the subject of our other `guests',” stated Xian, her name being butchered by the visitors to sound like it had in the past. “Even though they are machines, they are sentient. We haven't spaced the lot because they surrendered on their own. We've recycled their Centurions for the alloys in their construction, but the human forms do have rights under Republic, and by proxy, Galactic Law. Not to mention that Baltar, can`t forget about `never shuts up` Baltar.”

 

“I have an offer for you to consider,” chimed in Nabiki. “We now have half of the story concerning the artificial intelligences. What I propose is that we get the other half from one of the human forms, and from there we put them along with Baltar on trial for Genocide. We are unbiased, simply because we don't have the full story and we've never encountered a situation such as this. You could prosecute, while one of the lawyers from Earth would defend in the interests of fairness.”

 

“We'll have to weigh our options,” retorted Adama, his tone indicating exactly what he thought of the proposal. “Onto the next topic, what are you going to do with us?”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Urd, her link to Yggdrasil active as she searched for more information on the Colonials, along with their `personnel' files.

 

“What the Admiral is inferring to is us career military folk,” spoke up Lee for the first time since the loss of Starbuck. “We'd have no idea on how to operate any of your technology, and our ship plus the fighters she carries are simply too old to even be retrofitted for continued service.”

 

“We'll set that aside for now,” spoke up Kasumi, her voice soothing those that were apprehensive about their fate. “I can see it in the Admiral's eyes that he so desperately wants to retire from his post, to enjoy his remaining days with his family and friends and not have to worry about a combat situation ever again.”

 

“Speaking of retirement,” drawled General O'Neil, “I'd like to go so I could enjoy mine. The fish are waiting for me, you know.”

 

“This is where it gets tricky,” said Hild. “After some research, we found a similar project on our planet to that of yours. However, they were caught unawares during the Juraian Massacre and the dock in Nevada was destroyed. We could easily open up a slip in the orbital docks for your vessel, but we will not assume that is what you want and do it automatically.”

 

The conference continued on like that for several hours, food having been brought in with a three hour separation between servings.

 

While the meeting and negotiations were in progress, several of the Colonists wandered away from their `area' to have a look around. They didn't know it, but they were on the southern outskirts of the Nerima Ruins.

 

Popping out from the vegetation, they heard something big moving about. Then they heard what sounded like two of the something's, before spotting the source of the noise.

 

Running back to the tent city that was erected for temporary shelter, they relayed what they had seen. As word of mouth spread, the paranoia from the Cylon Genocide overrode reason and a riot ensued.

 

The Colonials had stumbled across Evangelion Units Sero and One as they continued their task of acting as construction droids. Little did they know that not only had they been spotted, but several of the more amorous Colonists had overpowered their `guards' and stolen their weaponry . . .

 

TBC

 

And there it is, an update. Rejoice, but do be nice to me. Work changed my shift and I'm now exhausted by the time the weekend rolls around. Anyway, part fifteen is now officially in the books! I'm also tinkering with a darkfic, mostly designed to take a potshot at another author that goes by the name `SgtRanma', as well as to throw my hat into the ring with the recent outbreak of darkfics. It should be out whenever I finish it.

 

Until next we meet, Ja!