Tenchi Muyo! Universe #6 The End by Ewen "Ryoga" Cluney DISCLAIMER: Tenchi Muyo! Ryo-Ohki and the characters, places, etc. therein are trademarks of AIC/Pioneer LDC; this work is not intended to be a challenge to any such ownership, and may be distributed freely, in unmodified form. Author's Note: The End is an unusual story. Its beginning coincides with the beginning of the movie, when Galaxy Police HQ is destroyed by Kain. Commander Sarnd was *not* killed when this happened. This story follows his adventures afterwards. Kurata sat at his desk, looking at the holomonitor. On it was the face of Commander Sarnd. "I'm glad you've _finally_ gotten the report from Mihoshi." the Thurnian was saying, "I nearly got demoted because of this mess, you know." Kurata smiled as best he could. "Sorry about that, sir, but we are dealing with Mihoshi, after all." If the commander found out the truth, that the report had been censored by Jurai, he would be in big trouble, to say nothing of the Federation's diplomatic relations with Planet Jurai. "Still... this is a bit late even for Mihoshi. However, I've got more important things to worry about. Signing off." The holomonitor disappeared, and Kurata heaved a sigh of relief. "That Mihoshi," he said at last. He would've added Those Juraians, were it not for the security camera in his office. Looking at his appointment calendar, Kurata found that, miraculously, he wasn't busy until late in the afternoon. It was quite rare for such a thing to happen nowadays, although the fact that Mihoshi had been on Earth, and thus not very active, had certainly helped. For lack of anything better to do, he decided to take a walk around the station. Galaxy Police Seventh Headquarters was a confusing jumble of silvery discs, rings, and cylinders in space, so named because it was the seventh such facility constructed, including all the various major refits that had been carried out over the past few millennia. The vast facility was the nerve center of the Galaxy Police, and as such a self- contained world. Kurata headed for the gardens to take a stroll; he could use a little of the more oxygenated air. The botanical gardens had plants from a hundred different worlds, and walking though them was quite a visual experience. "Hello, Kurata." said a deep, welcoming voice. Kurata turned around to see none other than Grand Marshall Mirani, leader of the Galaxy Police (and Mihoshi's grandfather) standing there. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man -- especially for a Kizakan -- and the effect was made all the more intimidating by his mane of golden hair and ornate Marshall's uniform. "Um, hello sir; nice to see you here." The Marshall smiled, and rested a hand on Kurata's shoulder. "Quite a nice day for a walk. Don't you agree?" This was a bit surprising to Kurata; he had only met the Marshall once, and they had exchanged less than a dozen words. Now the Grand Marshall was getting all friendly with him. Why? Kurata smiled nervously. "Why, yes, sir. I have a little free time today, so I thought I'd go for a little walk around the station..." "Well then," said the Marshall, finally removing his heavy hand from Kurata's shoulder. "I'll join you." The two of them proceeded along through the gardens. Kurata decided to let the Marshall lead the way, despite the fact that the Marshall seemed to want to follow him. After they had been walking for several minutes, the Marshall cleared his throat. "Tell me, Kurata, what has Mihoshi been up to lately?" Kurata could feel beads of sweat forming on his brow, but did his best not to let it show. "Mihoshi? Well, after bringing Dr. Clay here, she headed back to Earth again." "Oh? Where on Earth?" Granted the Marshall had a right to know, but it was a bit odd of him to ask. It wasn't as though he'd be able to visit or anything. "Um, the same place as before, I believe. That means she would've probably been present when the Jurai Royal Family visited Earth." "Indeed." said the Marshall with a frown. "Although her partner, Detective First Class Kiyone, went after her." They walked along in silence for a time, leaving the vaulted ceiling and fresh air of the gardens behind, and moving towards the areas that contained the machinery that kept the station up and running. "If you miss Mihoshi, why not go visit her? If you'd like, I could pull in a few favors and... sir?" Kurata realized that the Marshall was standing over a control console. He looked at the screen and gasped; the Marshall was accessing the controls for the Subspace Network, specifically the extradimensional containment facility. Only a handful of the most powerful criminals ever known were kept there, including... Kurata swallowed, remembering the stories he'd heard and the footage he'd seen in his days at the academy. Kain. "Uh, sir... May I ask what you're doing?" "Silence." the Marshall said evenly. Something was most definitely wrong. Kurata pulled out his sidearm, a low-powered energy pistol intended for in- ship use. "Sir, I must ask you to step away from the console, now." The Marshall turned to face Kurata. His eyes were not the sky blue of a Kizakan, but rather, the entire surface of both eyes was glossy black. The Marshall threw a punch, and Kurata was knocked to the floor. As he got up, Kurata set the gun to maximum stun, and fired. The blast of yellowish energy struck the Marshall squarely in the back, but had no effect. "Insect." the Marshall muttered. He pulled a gut out -- a standard GP laser pistol -- and fired. Kurata desperately tried to get out of the way, but was hit in she lower arm. Finally, he managed to get behind some crates, and appraised his arm. It was still there, but it hurt like the nine hells, and was blackened where the laser had hit it. He could smell his own burnt flesh. Kurata felt like vomiting, except he was too nervous even for that. He had to do _something_; the Marshall, under the control of... something, was about to open up the Subspace Prison. The face to the Galaxy Police, and possibly the galaxy, was at stake! Kurata poked his head out. The Marshall was standing there still, at the controls. He had the laser pistol out, and could probably kill Kurata without too much trouble. Only one option then; close combat. The Marshall was bigger, but also older. Cursing his wounded arm, Kurata charged at the Marshall, and knocked him to the ground. An instant later, the two of them were grappling on the deck. Kurata quickly realized that the Marshall was far stronger than he had anticipated, and was soon pinned to the floor. The black eyes looked down at Kurata. "I WILL BE FREE!" The words were said with a voice that resonated so as to be deeper than even the Marshall's great frame would produce, and held incredible hatred and rage within them. "W-what are you?" The Marshall's face smiled. "I am Kain!" The Marshall stood up and drew his laser pistol again, carefully taking aim at Kurata's forehead. In that split second, Kurata knew he could either live or die. He slid out of the way an instant before the laser blast hit the deck, leaving a crater -- A crater large enough that it had to have been made by a blast at maximum setting! -- and spun around, kicking the Marshall's legs out from under him. In that instant, he got up, made a fist with his good arm, and punched as hard as he could. The Marshall lay unconscious, and Kurata hurried to the console. But it was too late. He looked through the window, down at the bay. Machinery slid into place, energy crackled, a vast yellow and black cover slid back, and the blue lens of the subspace machinery was suddenly wrenched about and broken. "Oh no." Kurata murmured. "This is how it ends." * * * Sarnd watched the displays in disbelief. Containment in the subspace network had been lost, and an expanding sphere of nothingness was rapidly consuming the station. "It's Kain." he growled." It's got to be; only he could do something so... impossible!" The techs worked furiously, trying to rally what systems remained to contain the monster, but they all knew it was probably futile. They had all heard stories of the power and terror of Kain, but none ever imagined that he might escape. Finally, a warning was being sent to all Galaxy Police Personnel; there was nothing else to say, nothing to do but wait for the end. Suddenly, the nothingness reached the command center. By the dozens, techs cried out as they simply ceased to be. Sarnd looked into the coming wave, and roared. Somehow, Sarnd had expected to wake up either to an afterlife of some sort, or not at all. What he found was neither, but in many ways like both. He was floating through a black void. Not the cold of space -- that would be warm and inviting compared to this place, where the blackness, the nothingness, seemed to permeate every fiber of his being. He couldn't move, and felt like he was falling in every direction at once. He couldn't tell how long he was in this terrible place; time seemed to slip away along with everything else. He gasped for air, but found none. He had to get out, to *do* something. When Sarnd came to, he found himself in a small, dark, sealed section of corridor. The air was stale, and his entire body ached. A small amount of natural light filtered in through the viewports. "Wha-- What happened?" he murmured. The last thing he remembered, Kain had escaped and a wave of... something was consuming the station. No, it was a wave of *nothing*. Well, actually, it was a sort of physical and temporal inversion through subspace... But regardless, the question was, how had he survived at all? So many damn questions... Everything was silent. If this corridor was cut off, he die from lack of food or air, most likely the latter first. He walked up and down the length of the corridor. Apparently it had become severed from an exterior station ring, one of the auxiliary space docks. In the moments before Kain's attack reached it, the emergency doors must've sealed, leaving an airtight bottle. Somehow, he'd ended up here rather than in the command center, which was no doubt in far worse condition. Outside, still docked to the corridor section, was a small shuttle. It was an old model, but a type that was still, in fact, in service. Kind of like me, he thought. But if he could reach the shuttle he might have a chance. A slim chance to be sure -- the subspace transition couldn't have been very good for the shuttle's drives, or any of its other systems, for that matter. The first obstacle, though, was just getting to it. There was no power to the corridor, and thus the airlock wouldn't be functional. About all he had was his cube and laser pistol -- he was glad that officers of his rank were allowed to carry those rather than the non-lethal types carried by most GP personnel while on station. Even so, lasers and other blaster weapons, as a whole made rather poor cutting tools, and the GPLP was no exception. Further, firing at the door could damage their airlock, maybe even the ship. And if the airlock seal was damaged, he'd be spaced no matter what happened. For some reason, he thought of Trakal, of the Special Investigation Unit. His covert recon work on a number of planets had given him a wide knowledge of a number of cultures, including that of Earth. It was from that planet which he'd acquired the expression, "Damned if you do, damned if you don't." Which more or less summed up Sarnd's current situation. But Trakal was on the station at the time, which meant he was, in all likelihood, quite dead. Despite his lack of personality at times, the Operative was one of the GP's best. He pulled out the pistol, looked it over, and sighed. "No other options." he muttered, pointing it at the door. Now he had to figure out what setting to use. The LP had 10 different intensity settings, and thus the power cell could be used for 6 to 60 shots. GP airlocks were rather well armored, however (and with good reason), and thus he would have to use at least level 5 to make it through the door, but that would only give him 12 shots; he'd have to make them good ones. By the time the energy cell was depleted, there was a hole he could just barely fit though, though the jagged edges of the improvised portal were a bit painful. Once on the other side, he vowed to make energy knives standard issue as soon as possible, or maybe see to it that some sort of integrated energy system was put into use. Before him was the ship's exterior door. The question was, how to open it. This whole mess was getting rather irritating; it was like some sort of VR adventure game, with one puzzle after the other. He slammed his fist on the door. "Damnit!" Before he knew what was happening, he was sprawled on the floor of the shuttle, in a rather comical fashion. At least Mihoshi wasn't here. The door shut behind him. The shuttle was in poor shape, though the life support system was intact. The AI was doing well too. The only real problem was the drives. The chemical thrusters were fine, but the subspace inversion drives would need repairs. "I'm glad to see that there were survivors of this catastrophe!" it was saying. Sarnd glared at it from the pilot's seat. "Tell me, just what happened?" "Based on the available data, I surmise that the Class 1 Criminal Kain escaped from the subspace network, and conventional spacetime around the station was pulled into subspace, then partially reasserted their normal overdimension patterns. Thus, the station reappeared some 63 seconds later, but the physical structures were scrambled by a factor of 0.23. I regret to say that all organic life on the station would've been destroyed by the transition." He nodded. "So, why did I survive? I was in the command center at the time?" The AI's optic units refocused. "Checking files... I will require access to your personal files to comply." "Granted." "The cause of this is uncertain, but I hypothesize that the damage suffered to your overdimension and astral patterns during the Rage Incident prevented some of the subspace shift's effects somehow, possibly causing a spatial rather than dimensional transition. This is, however, conjecture." He never thought he'd be glad to have gone through all that business with Rage, so long ago, especially given how long he'd spent in the hospital. Granted, it had gotten him out of patrol around Vertix, and even a promotion, but only now did he begin to thing it might've been worthwhile. Except for the nightmares. Having one's astral pattern out of whack tends to have strange effects on the subconscious, as well as the psychic centers of the brain, though the phenomena is not fully understood. Regardless, the next priority was to survive. "And is there anything salvageable that you can detect in the wreckage?" The scanners came to bear on the once proud station, now reduced to rubble. "With present capabilities, very little. I have, however, detected an object that might be of interest to you." A holoscreen came up, displaying a tiny object. The view zoomed a few times, and he realized that it was a man. A pudgy, white-haired man with one artificial eye. "Dr. Clay..." He could remember the day when Mihoshi brought the doctor in. Then, as now, he was covered in green goo. When released, Mihoshi gave him a box, which contained broken pieces of pottery. "But you said there were no survivors." "Negative. I stated that no one survived the transition, apart from you. Dr. Clay did not experience the transition, for reasons unknown." Sarnd looked at the blob on the monitor, and frowned. Dr. Claw had been apprehended by Mihoshi of all people. He might be smart, but was likely lacking in the area of common sense. Sarnd knew for a fact that Clay was petty and arrogant. Still, he could be useful. "Bring him aboard." Dr. Clay was at the center of a mass of green ooze. Sarnd stood in the crampled cargo bay, looking the pudgy scientist over. A pair of eyes opened, one living, one not. The strange ooze suddenly became animated, and then flowed into Clay's cap, despite the fact that there shouldn't have been enough room -- though Sarnd knew better than to question such things from a former student of the Science Academy. Clay then inhaled and cleared his throat. "Greeting... Commander." he said evenly. "I see I am not the only survivor after all." He looked around. "The question is, what do you want from me?" Sarnd folded his arms across his massive chest. "Your help, as needed; I need to get back to Kazak as soon as possible. However, that'll be a bit difficulty seeing as how the subspace drive needs to be fixed." There was a long pause as Sarnd waited for a reply. Clay shrugged. "What choice do I have?" Despite a number of personality flaws and so forth, Dr. Clay was certainly skilled enough to deal with most of the shuttle's difficulties in short order, though the comm proved to be completely beyond repair. If there was any trouble, they'd be on their own. Within a few minutes, they were under way. Just as the shuttle was clearing the edge of the solar system, the AI emerged, clearly panicked. "Sir! There is a subspace energy form moving towards us!" A holoscreen came up, showing an amorphous mass of blood red, staining the stars. Sarnd tightened his jaw. He knew what it was, and what it could do. This was... "Rage." It must've escaped from subspace when Kain was freed. "Ah, yes." said Clay. "That mirror entity." "Just stay calm." Sarnd said firmly. Clay nodded. They waited in silence. Minutes later, Clay checked the readout. "Something's wrong. It should've dissipated by now, but it's still following us." Sarnd frowned. If it caught up to them, it could easily tear the ship apart. "Could Kain have something to do with this?" "It's certainly possible. Kain is probably one of the most hateful, aggressive beings in the universe. There is a distinct possibility that his hate had a permanent effect on it." Sarnd remembered the first time he'd encountered Rage, so long ago, and how helpless he'd felt. It was his first... it was the first time anything had actually happened in his career. Now he was much more experienced; he'd developed keen instincts over the years. Now they told him that he was screwed, unless Clay had some trick up his sleeves. "Allright." said Clay, "I'll need your cube." Sarnd handed over the cube, and the little scientist waddled off to the inner recesses of the ship. An hour later, Sarnd was presented with a curious device, which looked to be composed of a wide array of assorted parts, of which the cube was but one. "It doesn't look like much, but it can obliterate most any entity with ease." said Clay. "Point and shoot." Sarnd looked the thing over. "I'll have to go outside?" Clay nodded. Sarnd remembered the void of subspace, he remembered being wracked by crimson energy... He hadn't worn a battlesuit in years, but the time had come again. He headed for the airlock, to end it once and for all. Sarnd stood on top of the shuttle, looking into the crimson mass. Somehow, he'd feared Rage most of his life. The thing that had lay dormant in the Subspace Network had gnawed at his mind for decades. Had Kain escaped solely so Sarnd could have his revenge? No. Kain had his own fish to fry, probably starting with the House of Jurai. But it didn't matter. Speculation was pointless. The facts were that unless stopped, Rage would kill them. Sarnd pressed the trigger. A wave of crackling red energy sped outward, and Rage simply ceased to exist. * * * The shuttle slid into place in the station's docking bay. When the airlock at last opened, they were confronted by armed guards, though they lowered their weapons at the sight of the Commander. The highest-ranking officer present, a Lieutenant, ordered them to stand down. ""S-sir... you're alive?" Sarnd nodded. "It's a long story. Right now I need to go planetside to speak with the Grand Marshall." "But..." one of the officers murmured. "Commander," said the Lieutenant, "the Grand Marshall was at HQ during the disaster. Um, it would seem that you're all that remains of High Command." "I see." he said at last. That meant he would probably be made the new Grand Marshall. He had been uncertain of what the future might hold before, but now... Sarnd stepped out, into the station, and then they noticed Dr. Clay. Sarnd cleared his throat, and they relaxed. A little. "And Lieutenant, I'll be needing a shuttle downside." "Of course sir." Sarnd and Dr. Clay stood in the spaceport. They made a rather curious pair; a tall, aging but muscular Thurnian and an ancient, pudgy Kotami. "So," said Clay, "What do you intend to do now?" He thought about it for a moment. There was not way to tell what would happen next. Finally, he said, "Whatever needs to be done." Clay smiled. "About what I expected. As for myself, I intend to relax for a while. Sarnd nodded. Useful as he was, Sarnd detested the twerp. "Until next time." And with that, they parted. The Galaxy Police Central Command building was located in the Galactic Federation Center, a vast collection of assorted buildings which served as the heart of the Federation government; the entire complex was the size of a city, and functioned as such. Never one for a big fanfare, Sarnd took the G-rail, a vast system of trains that propelled the occupants along using an antigravity system. Even so, a lot of people took notice of him; many knew his face, and even more knew his uniform. And besides, he had been presumed dead, like the rest of High Command. It was imperative that a course of action be decided on regarding Kain. He'd probably check up on Mihoshi too; she was simply a magnet for trouble, and he somehow suspected that she and her more level-headed partner, Kiyone, might just get caught up in something or other. A small Kizakan girl looked up at him. "Who're you?" Sarnd had never particularly cared for kids, but wasn't about to be particularly mean either. "My name is Sarnd." Her wide, sky-blue eyes looked up into his. "Like the police guy?" He nodded. "That's me." he said flatly, as the train came to a stop. "Commander Sarnd." He stood up, and stepped off the train. Somehow, he suspected she might want to become a GP officer when she grew up. The GP building shimmered in the bright sunlight. It had been a few years since he'd been here, but it never seemed to change. While HQ was the nerve center for the operations of the Galaxy Police, this golden building was where the budget was made, supplies were distributed, and so forth. Not too far beyond it was the Galaxy Police Academy, where most of the new recruits received their training. His academy days hadn't quite been as everyone imagined them. Although he'd done well -- very well -- in all his classes, back then his behavior had been far less than perfect. Part of it, he figured, was suddenly living on planetside. His childhood had been on space stations and taught him to always be careful; one bad mistake, and you could be spaced. When he moved to Kazak, suddenly all the rules he'd learned seemed pointless and no longer applied. He quickly was taught otherwise. When Sarnd boldly strode through the doors, everyone around looked in astonishment. Finally, the secretary, a young, female Draalthi, stood up and saluted. "Sir!" The others were quick to follow suit. "At ease." he said slowly. "Umm..." she looked around nervously. "If you don't mind my asking, sir, what happened to you?" He sighed. "It's a *long* story. Right now I need an office prepared, an overview of what's happened since the destruction of Seventh Headquarters, and I need to see the Council." "Well... actually the Council sent for you about twenty minutes ago..." He nodded. "I see. See to the rest, and have a hovercar ready for me in five minutes." "Yes sir!" The hovercar sped along the paved roads that connected the various buildings of the Federation Center, controlled by its automatic systems. Sarnd took the time to relax, as he passed by food processing plants, solar collectors, and a host of other facilities. The members of the Galactic Council, of which there were now five, since the demise of the Marshall, were the leaders of the Galactic Senate, and thus the highest political officials in the entire Federation. Of course, *he* was the highest military official at the moment, and would likely end up ascending still further before the day was done. As the sole surviving member of the High Command, he was the only logical choice for the new Grand Marshall. It was lonely at the top, especially when you're the only one there. He arrived at the Senate building in short order, and wasted little time in taking a lift up to the Council chambers. As the lift doors opened, however, he heard a scream. He could smell death in the air, and ran. When Sarnd burst through the doors, he saw Minister Katari lying on the floor, apparently shot by an energy weapon of some sort, his crimson blood spilling on the floor. In the room were Minister Kratan and Prime Minister Jen'nara. "What's happened?" Kratan was the first to speak. "We came in, and found her like this." he said, his voice filled with a mixture of grief, rage, and disgust. Sarnd pulled out the communicator he had been given during his visit to Central Command, and activated it. "This is Commander Sarnd. There has been a murder at the Senate Building. I want a full investigation team assembled immediately." He changed the channel. "This is Commander Sarnd to security. I am ordering that the Senate Building be put under security alert. No one enters or leaves without my knowledge." Within a few minutes, the other Ministers, Kapek, and Nrandt, arrived, and were equally shocked at what they saw. "Gods..." murmured Nrandt, an elderly Thurnian and the Minister of Law. "How could such a thing happen?" Katari had, until a few minutes ago, been the Minister of Health, and the first Kotami to ever sit on the Council. Racist motives were a possibility, but it was also entirely possible that he was simply unlucky enough to be in the chambers at the time the assassin struck. And there were more than enough groups who weren't happy with the Council. "That," said Sarnd, "is the question. Who did this, how, and, more importantly, why?" "Any number of people might've wanted to assassinate a Council member." said Kratan. "And they might strike again." said Nrandt, with a slight shiver. Sarnd nodded. "Each of you will be assigned a security squad to guard you at all times until this blows over." Kapek, a middle-aged Draalthi, cleared his throat. "Is that really necessary?" Sarnd gave a sigh, and motioned to the body of Katari. "What do you think? Do you want to end up like him?" Before Kapek could answer, a detachment of GP officers entered, armed with an array of scanners and other gadgetry. They were quick to make a sweep of the room. As they did so, Sarnd and the Council members watched. Sarnd paused to look out the window. "Lieutenant." he said, addressing the leader of the detachment. "Sir?" "Have all officers in the area investigate to see if there are any snipers. I want aircar patrols doubled also." The young Valturis gave a quick salute. "Yes sir." One of the other officers, a Sergeant, came forward with his scanner. "Sir, I've been able to determine that the attack was carried out by means of some kind of focused bio- energy beam. It's similar to Jurai Energy in some ways, but shows distinct differences." Sarnd took the scanner and looked over its readings. The distance could not be determined, mainly because the type of attack was basically unknown, except that it had caused a minor astral disruption; what remained of Katari's quickly fading astral pattern appeared to be damaged somehow. That indicated that they were dealing with an esper or entity of some sort. "Good work." he said, handing back the scanner. "Just what does that mean?" asked Nrandt. "I don't know yet." said Sarnd. "At this point we have no way to tell." He hesitated a moment, then activated his communicator again. "This is Commander Sarnd. I want a tech with a dimensional scanner sent up here, stat." Nrandt turned to Jen'nara. "Under the circumstances, I believe we should go ahead with the business that we originally came here for." She nodded. "Yes. I suppose so." She cleared her throat. "For the record, this is an emergency meeting of the Galactic Council. The proposal is that Commander Sarnd, as the sole remaining member of the Galaxy Police High Command after the Kain Incident, be made the acting Grand Marshall, pending Senate approval. Objections?" The room was silent. "Good. The motion is carried. Congratulations, Sarnd." Sarnd was caught off guard a bit by this; he'd been expecting it, but somehow he'd imagined that it would take more than 30 seconds. "Um... thank you, madam Prime Minister." She smiled. "Just call me Jen'nara. You're our colleague now; you can get away with being on a first name basis." After a few minutes, another group of officers, including the tech Sarnd had requested, arrived. Sarnd assigned each of the council members, including himself, three guards, including one from the SIU elite. The tech, a thin Kotami, set up the scanner, and ran it over the room. "Well," he said at last, "Minister Katari's astral pattern is gone now. Other than that..." he looked over the readout again. "Ministers Jen'nara and Kratan show a small deviation in their astral patterns, probably because of their proximity to the phenomena. And you show some rather... interesting disruptions to your astral and overdimension patterns." Sarnd nodded. "I know. My first case." The tech shook his head. "No sir; it's more pronounced than that. It's like... it's as though you underwent a complete two-way subspace inversion, but somehow survived intact." "Kain." he said. After an uncomfortable pause, he turned to the Council members. "For now I suggest you all return home, and contact me and Central Command if anything happens." He had to head back to his office and attend to a few things. Mihoshi lay sprawled on a hammock. It had taken her in all nearly an hour to reach this semi-comfortable position. And then, suddenly, her scanner started beeping. Startled, the moved, sending the hammock spinning. When she was finally able to stagger to her feet, she realized that it was a signal. She activated the thing, and a holomonitor appeared, with the face of Commander Sarnd on it. She jumped back, though the monitor followed her. "C- commander?" He sighed. "Detective Mihoshi." She managed a salute, though that didn't change the fact that she was wearing a pink tanktop and bluejeans. "Um... yes sir?" "Is Kiyone there?" "Right here, Commander." said Kiyone, who'd come up behind her. "What is the situation? I thought you were at HQ?" "It's a long story. I'm at Central Command, on Kazak, right now. I need any information you have on events since then, especially where the Kain Incident is concerned." "Kain?" said Mihoshi. "But--" "Sir, with the aid of others present here on Earth, we were able to destroy Kain permanently." Sarnd stopped short, and sort of choked for a moment before resuming. "Good. You can send me a full report later. In the meantime, I have been promoted to the rank of acting Grand Marshall." Mihoshi became rather confused. "But--" Sarnd sighed. "I regret to inform you that your grandfather was making a surprise visit to Seventh Headquarters at the time of the incident." "G- grandpa was...?" Mihoshi sort of went limp, dropping to her knees, and started to cry. Sarnd tried to think of something consoling to say, but couldn't. "My condolences." he said at last. "Detective Kiyone, I want a full report on the Kain Incident relayed to Central Command as soon as possible. That is all." Sarnd sat at his desk, looking over the comprehensive reports. He couldn't stop thinking about Mihoshi. He wasn't sure whether it was her or her partner that he pitied more. However, it didn't matter now. What was done was done. Maybe he'd been around Trakal too much; he'd started to become fatalistic too. Of course, the SIU operative would be dead now as well. He had just returned from an assignment a day or so before it all happened. Too many people were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kurata was gone too, for that matter. It was just frustrating. Kain had been destroyed, but on another planet, far away. It seemed too ephemeral a vengeance. More important, though, was the matter at hand. A member of the Galactic Council had been assassinated, and the killer was still on the loose. The first priority was to protect the council members, which he had done by supplementing their own personal guards with GP officers. Now all that remained was to locate the killer, hopefully before they struck again. Things had changed too quickly for him. The cosmos had made sense a week ago. He had a stable job, doing paperwork and such at HQ, and was usually pretty bored. Now, he had been promoted to head of the Galaxy Police, in one of the worst ways possible -- Dead Man's Boots -- and was investigating the unthinkable. Unfortunately, it looked as though they had nothing more to go on. Whoever was responsible, they would be the ones to decide what happened next. Questioning damn near everyone in the building had produced nothing, except for a number of complaints. Now all they could do was go over what little they had and wait. He remembered a case from some 20 years ago, when a sniper had managed to set up in the capitol. He had been going for nearly an hour, shooting down people at random, and then anyone that came near him, until a young officer, a Private Felna, used her aircar's targeting lasers to blind the sniper, and then go in for an arrest. But in this case, if there was a sniper, they were a smart one, and didn't hang around waiting to be captured. Only one quick blast, and then they vanished. That kind of work would be hard to trace. About the only real hope of picking such an assailant out of the population was to find their weapon, which might not even be a possibility if it was a (super)natural ability. He rested his head in his hands and cursed. The call came in the very early hours of the morning. Sarnd hadn't really been able to sleep, and kept mulling over the problem set before him. "Marshall?" said the young tech, "we've received a call from the estate of Minister Nrandt; he's... he's been assassinated." Now he stood in a hallway in the Minister's home. Nrandt's body had been removed, replaced by a holographic image to show where he had been. This time, though, it was different. He had been stabbed to death by the maid, who claimed to have no memory of doing such a thing. She was a young Kizakan, and looked to be upset, shocked, and frightened. When Sarnd stood before her, she shrunk back. "Please, miss, try to stay calm." She nodded, but didn't become any more calm. "I don't think you did it, but I need to know exactly what you *do* remember." "Well... I was j-just cleaning up here in the study when suddenly I blacked out. And then, when... Next thing I knew, I saw him there, stabbed to death." Her voice cracked again, and she started to cry. "I'm not going to jail, am I?" "No." he said, trying to sound soothing. This was a shock to everyone. Not one, but two members of the Galactic Council were dead. No such thing had ever happened in the history of the Federation. Besides that, the killer apparently was capable of some form of mind control. He looked around, and frowned. "Where are the guards?" The various officers present looked around for a moment, confused, and then the Lieutenant ordered a search of the house. A few minutes later, they were found. The three GP officers Sarnd had assigned and Nrandt's personal guards, all six of them, were dead. The causes of the deaths were varied; strangulation, knife wounds, broken necks; all of them could've concievably been done by the maid, if she were being controlled somehow. There was no real possibility of her having done it by herself, unless she happened to have been a retired member of the SIU or the "mythical" Special Section, which Sarnd knew to not be the case. Scans of the corpses revealed next to nothing; their astral patterns were long gone, and they had been dead long enough for rigor mortis to set it. After ordering full autopsies and so forth, Sarnd headed back to his office. Now two members of the Galactic Council were dead; this was something that had simply never happened before. Including Sarnd, that left four. Thus, as before, the number one priority was to protect the remaining ones; himself, Jen'nara, Kapek, and Kratan. The problem was, how the hell were they supposed to defend against a threat like that? Plain and simple, they lacked the means with which to combat spirit-creatures effectively. Of course, so did everyone else; from what he'd heard, even Juraian technology could not handle such things. But there was one person who he knew had been able to deal with them in the past... He activated the hovercar's communicator, and contacted central command. "This is Commander Sarnd. I need Doctor Clay to be found immediately." Maybe the little jerk would be useful again. As it turned out, Dr. Clay hadn't gone far. He had sold a few of his inventions to get some quick cash and was staying at a hotel for a few days. It was less than an hour later before Sarnd was talking to him on the vidphone. "Hello, Marshall. Allow me to offer my congratulations. How may I be of service?" Sarnd sighed. "Two members of the Galactic Council have been murdered so far, and we don't know how. The first was by some kind of bio-energy attack, and the second appears to have been carried out by means of mind control." Clay nodded and smiled. "And you want my help in apprehending the culprit?" He leaned back in his chair, his belly nearly obscuring his face. "I must say I never thought I'd be working for the Galaxy Police... But if there's sufficient money in it..." He nodded. "Of course. Given who the targets have been, even the basic reward for catching the culprit would be quite substantial." Given access to the resources of the Galaxy Police, Clay was able to do quite a lot. First, he insisted that the remaining Council members all be located in the same place, as it would be easier to defend. The place chosen was Prime Minister Jen'nara's estate, since it could easily accommodate the four remaining council members as well as a large complement of guards. Then he was quick to put together a surveillance system that could detect astral forms as well as physical ones, and to arm the commanding officers of the six security teams with GPLP's modified to incorporate a special mode that would disrupt astral forms. The Galactic Council met in a secure room in the mansion, which was decorated with Kizakan antiques. Jen'nara surveyed her colleagues and sighed. "The question is, how long can we stay like this? We can't stay sequestered from the public forever." "True," said Kapek, "but for the time being it would be best." "But how long can this thing wait?" asked Kratan. "We could stay bottled up in here for twenty years and then get knocked off the moment we stepped outside!" "Granted," said Sarnd, "but we've taken pains to make this the safest place in the galaxy. We definitely should stay here for the time being, at least a few weeks during which the investigation can proceed." "Allright," said Jen'nara, "if nothing happens, we'll stay here for a maximum of three weeks. Agreed?" The others nodded in assent. Living among the members of the Galactic Council proved to be a new experience for Sarnd. Part of it was just how relaxed they were amongst themselves. Broadcasts of official council and senate sessions were always highly formal affairs, and it was hard to imagine them simply having breakfast, exchanging stories, and so forth. Besides, he was used to living on space stations and had been at Seventh Headquarters for a few decades. The food along was better than he'd had in a long time. Kratan, a Kizakan/Terran hybrid, had been a GP officer himself before entering into politics, and Sarnd found himself exchanging stories with this veteran on a regular basis. After a week, their lives had fallen into a rather unusual routine. Finally, Jen'nara decided that they should do some virtual gaming. Most of the others had been into such games to varying degrees during their respective childhoods, though Sarnd, having grown up an Orbiter, one always on the space stations, had been particularly adept at these. The four of them sat around the den, and went through the virtual libraries, finally settling on a space combat simulation, though Sarnd was warned to go easy on them. Once everything was ready, they shifted in. Sarnd sat in his virtual space fighter. It was a fictional model, created specifically for the purposes of the game, though it showed many similarities to the Galaxy Police's C-23 Thunderbolt fighter. The scanners showed three targets, which were now variously moving. Sarnd increased the thrust above idle, and moved towards the others. In a few moments, a lightning-fast frenzy began; he was surprised at how skilled they proved to be, especially Jen'nara. In the game the object was to get as many kills as possible -- if you were shot down, you would reappear in a new fighter some distance away. Sarnd made a point of going about it in much the same way he would in real life, not that this fantasy appeared to be much different; the quality of the simulation was incredibly good. After around half an hour, the targeting display came up with a message saying "Level 2 starting now." He wasn't sure what that might mean, so he checked the sensors and, sure enough, there were four enemy fighters out there, just to make things more interesting. Sarnd was quick to move in -- the less time the simulated pilots had to think, the less dangerous they would be. On the approach he took some proton fire, but shot the enemy fighter down before it could do anything. Kapek and Kratan were not so lucky, and took hits from anti-matter missiles, their digital fighters going up in fractal flames. Sarnd dispatched another one with a quick missile volley, and Jen'nara blasted two at once. He wasted no time in moving out of her range; in this game they were still opponents. Kapek and Kratan's fighters reappeared nearby, but remained stationary. "What's going on?" he muttered, making a quick flyby of the two immobile craft. Suddenly, the scanners sounded an alert -- there was a missile on his tail. He tried to fire the rear guns and take evasive action, but it was to no avail. His reflexes told him to bail out, so in a fraction of a second he hit the eject button. In the game, though, this was the command to exit the game, and he found himself sitting in the chair again. Removing the VR interface, he surveyed the others, and realized that Kapek and Kratan were slumped in their respective seats. He stood up and went over to them, checking their vital signs. "Dead?" He shot a glance at Jen'nara, who had now exited the sim as well and was now standing up. She looked at him strangely. It took him a moment to realize what it was. Her eyes were completely covered by an inky blackness. And she was smiling. This was it. "Who are you?" he said firmly, drawing his GPLP. "I am known as Ix." she replied coldly, "And soon, your Galactic Federation will be my plaything, like so many before it." "You killed all of them." he said evenly, leveling the pistol at her. She nodded. "I decided to save you for last, the best challenge. Don't try to call for help; there is none. Everyone else in this place has killed one another by now." The LP was in the special astral mode added by Clay, so he fired. A blast of crackling red energy shot out of the barrel and struck Jen'nara squarely. It was as though the being that inhabited her -- a great, amorphous black thing with a vaguely female form -- was slammed backwards, forced out of the Prime Minister's body. Ix stood up, then hovered. "Fool. You can do more than annoy me with that little toy." Sarnd quickly considered his options. This being was not likely to hold back its attack very much, and would surely kill him eventually if not immediately. He was armed only with the pistol, but there should be some heavier armaments around the mansion, and he knew exactly what to use. He made a quick dash out of the room. The GP power suit was a large bulky thing, usually purple or red in color (this one was the latter), which was quite menacing with its cyclopean targeting scanner and surprisingly quick and mobile because of its jet thruster system. Further, it packed as much firepower as a small fighter. Sarnd found one in the improvised armory they had set up, and quickly slipped into it, brining all systems on- line. [Author's Note: This is the same power suit seen in the first episode of the TV series.] By the time he had done this, Ix had already glided into the room. He raised the proton cannon, a massive carried weapon, and fired. Streams of charged particles riddled the creature, but it seemed unaffected. That left only one option -- the other reason he had chosen to use the power suit -- escape. He kicked in the VTOL thrusters, spun around, and rocketed through the wall. Ix was quick to give chase, seemingly growing wings for the purpose of flying after him. After maneuvering through the corridors of the mansion for a few minutes, he burst through a wall of glass and into the night sky of Kazak, hitting the afterburners as he did so. The first priority of a Galaxy Police officer was to capture the criminal if at all possible. Unless they could set up a subspace containment net, though, that seemed an unlikely prospect, given that the only place where such equipment was stored had been Seventh Headquarters. That left only one option; annihilation of the thing. But how to do that? If a proton cannon burst was insufficient... Sarnd activated the suit's communicator. "Marshall Sarnd to Central Command, do you read me?" "Affirmative." said the tech on the other end. "I need a satellite strike. I have identified the being that killed the various Council members, and it is extremely dangerous, Class 2 at least." "Yes sir! Please give current coordinates; it will take at least ten minutes for targeting scanners to identify and track target." He listed off his current position and course heading, as it appeared on the suit's HUD. "So," Ix's voice rang out in his mind, "calling for help, are we? A mere satellite weapon is not sufficient. I am Ix, born of the same black hole that Kain sprang from!" So, he was dealing with Kain's "sister." If that was so, he would likely have a far worse threat on his hands than he'd first thought. "Feel my rage!" Suddenly, blasts of energy ebony energy shot out at him. He rolled and spun, weaving his way around them, but took a few hits anyway. Frustrated, he spun around to face her, and held down the trigger of the proton cannon, firing off a the suit's payload of missiles as well for good measure. "Sir!" said the same tech as before over the commlink, "Satellite strike standing by!" "Fire." A stream of white-hot energy came down from the heavens, like an act of the gods, and struck Ix squarely, surrounding her with blazing white light for a few seconds. When it ended, however, she was more or less intact, only more angry. He had to think. That was how a GP officer got things done; brute force was useful, but there was always someone who had more of it, as was the case here. Even a sat strike had failed to harm her. But there was one thing that nothing in the cosmos could withstand -- antimatter. He could need an amount of antimatter equal to at least one fifth of her mass, probably, to generate that kind of destructive power. When matter and antimatter met, a mutual annihilation would occur, obliterating both and converting both into incredible amounts of energy. The only place on Kazak to get antimatter, though was in a reactor, and the only M/AM reactor on the planet was located at the heart of the capitol. He changed his course, and headed straight for it, soaring high over the countless buildings. It was unmistakable -- everyone in the Federation knew about this reactor, that generated roughly 60% of the power for the entire world. There was simply no time for pleasantries. He crashed through the front doors and soared along the hallways, until he found his way to the antimatter storage facility. Once there, he shot open the door -- a dangerous prospect at best, and stepped inside. There there were dozens of hexagonal containers, each labeled with the words, "CAUTION ANTIMATTER." Each one would contain the antimatter, prevented from contact with normal matter by both vacuum sealing and magnetic containment. He picked one up -- it would be more than sufficient -- and headed out, taking a rear entrance, since Ix had likely entered the facility as well. When he exited, there was no sign of her, so he would have at least a few moments to gather his wits. The AM container was tightly sealed to be sure, and was designed to release its contents only when attached to the reactor. He could see only one way to go about this, and it wasn't too appealing. "What are you planning now?" He spun around, boosting backwards a little. Ix had come up behind him. "You're only making this harder on yourself. And more fun for me." Sarnd frowned. Now was the moment of truth. "Here, catch." he said, throwing the container at her. To his surprise, she caught it; somehow, he'd thought she wouldn't fall for something like that, but then, it was entirely possible that she couldn't read Standard. He jetted back until he was on the edge of the range of the proton gun, and fired. Not the first time, Sarnd came to on a hospital bed. This time, though Prime Minister Jen'nara was standing over him. "Nice to see you're awake." He sat up, and ran his hands down his face, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. "What happened?" "Well... you certainly destroyed the thing. You also irradiated a ten kilometer radius. Fortunately, we have the technology to deal with such things, which is good, since otherwise you'd be in the process of dying a rather painful death right now." Sarnd rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you came here to make me feel better." he said sarcastically. She grinned in a way that was downright childish. "You're welcome. You should be getting out of here in a day or so. In the meantime, you've been officially given the title of Grand Marshall, and your first job is to supervise the planning for the construction of Eighth Headquarters. You've got a lot of work ahead of you. As do we all." ------------------------------------------------------------ by Ewen "Ryoga" Cluney (ryoga_hibiki@hotmail.com) Tenchi Muyo! Universe Home Page: http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/6127/Tenchi.html Beware of pandas carrying signs. ------------------------------------------------------------