Jim Goleski Once More Into the Breach By J. Austin Wilde Fission Park Press J. Austin Wilde, K.B.C.S., Chief of the Secret Police and Minister of Propaganda Fission Park Press dizzy@aloha.net Introduction, I had no plans for a sequel to Ranma Goes to War. I had ended it well enough I thought. Still I suppose there's always room for more, and loose ends don't just go away. To be honest, I was encouraged by the comments and suggestions of you the faithful. Once More Into the Breach was written in a similar vein as its older sibling, and I hope you understand what I had to do to get Ranma back into the middle of it. Once More Into the Breach uses strong language and graphic portrayals of violence, so if these things bother you, oh well. I hope you enjoy it just the same. You have been warned... "Once more into the breach dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead! In Peace nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility: But when the blast of War blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favor'd rage! Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head like the brass cannon, Let the brow o'erwhelm it... Now set the teeth and stretch the nostrils wide! Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height! ...Cry 'God for Harry, England, and St. George!' " -Wm. Shakespeare; Henry the Vth, Act III, Scene 1 Chapter One Leave never seems to last very long. Ranma brushed at his red satin shirt, knowing that tomorrow he would be back in uniform again. At least for a little while. When he returned to the hospital at Yokosuka, he would be assigned to the transient personnel division there. He'd end up doing odd jobs and such, awaiting his discharge from service. As Doctor Mitaka had promised, he would be out by Christmas. He had just called Hiro at the base to arrange for his ride back. Private Hiro Ohata knew the way to the Tendo Dojo, as he had delivered Ranma just a week ago. Hiro would be going back to the lines again soon, and had said something about a party when Ranma returned. Akane was out shopping with Kasumi. Even though he wouldn't be gone long, she had insisted on making him a special dinner tonight. He held his tongue, and resolved to at least give her the benefit of the doubt. **At least Kasumi and mom will be in the kitchen with her,** he thought to himself. He remembered the cookies she had sent him and shuddered. **I wonder whatever happened to those things?** He shrugged to himself and walked into the living room. The news was on, but he found himself sitting down anyway. The less he heard about the war that still raged across the Sea of Japan, the happier he was. Still, he knew that a part of him was still over there, with the men of his platoon. He owed them at least this much. Many people on the home front wanted nothing to do with this war, and would forget them at the first opportunity. The Indomitable Sturm Blitzen was huddled in a bunker as snow flurried around him, and the sounds of not so distant artillery pounded the hill. He seemed at ease despite the violent shocks that assailed him and his crew. Ranma figured Sturm had been shelled almost as much as he had to be so calm. "It's business as usual on the front lines today! The North Koreans continue shelling our positions with great intensity around Seoul, as you can probably hear. The suburbs of Seoul have already been overrun, but the main push seems to continue along the center of the lines. American and Allied air attacks have been hampered by severe weather. The forecasters expect the skies to clear by the weekend, but in the meantime the North Koreans are capitalizing on Allied inability to sortie against their positions. "The war continues with no clear end in sight. If the negotiations in Brussels fall through again, military analysts predict that the war on the Korean peninsula will drag on into the spring. This is Sturm Blitzen for CNN, on the outskirts of Seoul." Mister Tendo smoked a cigarette as he and Genma-panda played shogi. Soun looked up from his game to confirm that Ranma was in fact sitting there in front of the television and not in Korea. Genma growled something and made a move. "So son, when exactly will you be discharged?" Soun asked for about the ten-thousandth time that week. Ranma sighed. "Sometime before Christmas Mr. Tendo. It just depends on how long it takes the paperwork to go through." He answered for the ten-thousandth time. Soun nodded. "It's just that I'll continue to worry until you're actually free from service. I don't want to see you end up over there again. You've done your part." * * * For lack of anything better to do, Ranma decided to go into the kitchen and lend a hand. He was promptly shooed out of the kitchen by Akane and a broom. Kasumi and Nodoka looked on hopelessly. Some things just didn't change. "Stay out Ranma!" Akane cried in a loud voice. "I don't need any help from you!" He touched his hand gingerly to the side of his face that had intercepted the broom and winced. **Jeez, for someone who says she loves me, she's gotta funny way of showing it.** That about summed up their relationship for the past week. He didn't doubt for a minute the things they'd said to each other his first night home, but as to where they were going together, who knew? They still argued and fought; the only difference was that when they drove each other nuts they could at least go off and sulk with the expectancy of making up later. He decided to take a walk until dinner was ready. He walked out into the garden and leaped up onto the wall. He continued along the walls until he found himself outside Ucchan's Okonomiyaki. **Maybe a little something to tide me over in case dinner's as bad as I think it will be,** he thought. Ukyo was busy as usual, but that didn't keep her from finding the time to chat with him. She even had an okonomiyaki ready for him -complete with goofy face drawn in sauce. "H-How did you know I was coming?" He stammered. Ukyo smiled sweetly. "Woman's intuition, Ranma-honey." He pondered that a moment before spying his father in panda form eating voraciously in the corner. "Uh-huh, suuuure...." He said with a grin. **Got to hand it to my old man, he's always prepared where the belly's concerned.** Ukyo followed his eyes over to the panda and laughed, "well maybe I did have a little advanced warning." "Pop's not as dumb as he lets on sometimes," Ranma said as he lifted a bite of the piping hot okonomiyaki to his mouth. "So when do you have to go back?" Ukyo asked in the silence that followed. Ranma swallowed. "Tomorrow," he replied glumly. "I go back to the hospital and work for them while I wait for my discharge." "Cheer up, silly! At least you're not going back over there." "Yeah... Mr. Tendo's already getting me lined up to teach his morning classes when I get out. At least I'll have something to do." "I know what you mean," Ukyo said softly. "The shop's been okay, but it's been my whole life since graduation. I really need to attend college and get my business degree. So next fall I'll be attending classes." "Really?" Ranma asked, genuinely surprised. Ukyo had been a comforting constant in Nerima. The thought that she wouldn't always be around left him suddenly spinning within. In spite of the whole fiancee mess; she was one of his best friends, and the only confidant he had. (Akane was only just now qualifying for that distinction.) Ukyo read his troubled expression and gave him a playful pat on the head. "There there Ranma-honey, you knew the free lunch couldn't go on forever." Ranma didn't see the joke she was making and waved his hands about in frustration. "That's not it at all!" He cried after a moment. She gave him a soulful smile then and took his hands in hers. "I know Ranma. I know. I'll miss you too." They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. It was too much for Ukyo to bear. She pulled back away from him, slapping her hands on the counter. "Well cheer up honey, 'cause I'm not gone yet!" She cried almost too cheerfully. * * * He returned home in time for dinner. Akane had quite a spread before him at the table. **It even looks edible!** Ranma thought, suddenly feeling guilty for eating at Ucchan's. "Well? What do you think?" Akane asked him hopefully. Ranma took another look. His keen nose tested the air. **Yes, it even smells good!** "It looks great!" He said with careful enthusiasm. "You made it all yourself?" She narrowed her eyes at him. Tiny wisps of smoke were plain to be seen wafting about her head. "Of course I did!" She shot back. "I did all this for you!" He scratched the back of his head. "Thanks Akane! I really appreciate this." He sat down to eat, vowing that he would at least try everything and thus stay her wrath. She smiled then for him, and he remembered why she was so cute. **Just don't piss her off.** He reminded himself. The rest of the family sat down to eat. Nodoka sat next to Genma, who was in human form again. Apparently his mother didn't seem to mind her husband's transformation, as the cold winter nights were made warmer with a soft fuzzy panda to cuddle up with. Ranma just couldn't see his old man as the cuddling type. The food wasn't half bad. Oh sure the curry was a little strong, and the dumplings a little over cooked, but nothing like the toxic waste Akane normally trowled out. Obviously his mother and Kasumi had been helpful influences in the kitchen. He was as good as his word and tried everything at least once, remembering to heap praises upon the meal as he ate. No one else seemed to be twitching or clutching their stomachs in pain, so he judged that his conditioning to Army food wasn't solely responsible for his survival. **Maybe Akane's getting the hang of this cooking business.** He finished his meal and excused himself. He shouldn't have eaten that okonomiyaki, as he was quite stuffed now. Akane was on her feet in an instant, leaving Kasumi and Nodoka to tidy up. He walked out into the garden for a little air. "You're not sneaking off to be sick, are you?" Akane asked snidely behind him. He turned around to face her. "Of course not. I said it wasn't bad and I meant it. I just ate too much, that's all." "You mean you liked it?" She asked in surprise. "You really liked it?' "Like I said, it wasn't bad, and I ate a little of everything." "You didn't answer my question! Did you like it?!" Ranma started to say "well it needs a little work, but..." before Akane clobbered him. "RANMA YOU JERK!!!" She threw him down to the ground with a heavy thud before landing on him herself. They laughed as they rolled around on the grass for a few minutes, wrestling playfully. At last Ranma let her pin his shoulders to the ground and lay there panting. " 'Ranma you jerk?' " He gasped between breaths. "I had to say it. It's like a tradition now," she offered with a coy smile. "Yowtch!" He cried. Akane started. "Oh I'm sorry! Did I do something?" "Yeah you did. You fed me too much and then you wrestled me to the ground and now I'm starting to cramp up." She patted his head the way Ukyo had earlier. "Aww, poor baby." She then rolled off to lay beside him on the grass, looking up to the dusky sky. The air was cold and the wind biting, but they had been thus spared any snowfall. Heavy dark clouds drifted overhead in the waning light of day, promising to deliver December's bounty at last. "Are you cold?" Ranma asked after a bit. "Hmm. A little," she replied, breath steaming from her lips in a way that suddenly stirred his heart. "Would you like a blanket or something? I could go get one." She snuggled close to him instead, her warm breath playing against his ear. "You might not turn into a panda, but I think you'll keep me warm enough." He blushed, and she immediately felt the sudden heat of his face against hers. "See what I mean?" She giggled. "Um, yeah." The sun at last fled beyond the horizon with a final gust of wind, and with it's departure came the first tiny flakes of snow. They drifted and fell lazily from those heavy clouds, almost but not quite making it to the ground before melting. Ranma and Akane watched them fall towards them in hushed excitement, the way the first snow of the year always makes people feel. Before too long those flakes were dusting their eyelashes and tickling their flushed faces. The two of them sat up to watch them fall about the garden and watched in silent wonder as they made tiny ripples in the pond. The whole neighborhood was in a hush as the snow fell on Nerima. "In a way I'm glad you have to go back tomorrow," Akane said quietly. "Huh?" "I have to go back to school myself. Finals are coming up and I've missed a lot of classes. I need to try and catch up." "Oh." "And now I don't have to worry about you." She slugged him in the arm playfully. "You're here in Japan, where you belong. Soon you'll be out of the Army." "Yeah, it's just a matter of time now," he replied softly. Time passed, and they cherished each other's company. The snow continued to fall gently, and the ground was turning white. "Ranma, have you given any thoughts to the future?" Akane asked. "A little," he replied. **Not much at all actually.** "I was thinking that you might consider going to college with me in the fall. I just don't want to see you sitting around the dojo and having to put up with our dads and all." "I don't think I'm cut out for that stuff," he said after a moment's thought. "You're smarter than you think Ranma," Akane said. "And I just thought you'd appreciate the company more than you would around here." He squeezed her hand. "I do." "Promise me you'll think about it, okay?" He held up his hand. "I promise." She laughed. "Good. I know you always keep your promises." * * * Private Hiro Ohata and his olive drab Humvee were waiting outside the dojo the next morning. Ranma was once again in uniform; shined and squared away. Hiro's eyes nearly popped from their sockets as he saw Akane. "Hey Saotome, you said she was cute, but words do not describe!" He cried. Akane gave Ranma a bemused look as he turned red. "Cute eh?" She said with a wicked grin. "When you want to be," he replied deadpan. "Where do I sit?" She asked, gesturing to the oversized vehicle. "Huh?" Hiro grunted in confusion. "We're giving her a lift to the train station, okay?" Ranma supplied. Hiro shrugged. "Okay with me Saotome; you've got the stripes." Ranma helped Akane into the Hummer. She looked more than a little out of place in the thing; wearing a bright red coat with fur lined hood and black skirt with matching stockings and boots. The vehicle smelled of machine oil and the musty smell of canvas and nylon web gear. "Hang on," Ranma advised. "Hiro's a maniac in this thing." "No argument there," Hiro replied. He put the Hummer in gear and stomped on the accelerator. The Tendos and Saotomes waved good-bye as they sped off down the street. Humvees don't fit very well through Japanese streets, and Hiro Ohata had to race the Hummer all over the road to get anywhere. Fortunately the big green monster was intimidating enough to get traffic out of his way. "Kuno's here," Hiro said off-handedly as he whipped around a little Honda scooter. "Oh yeah?" Ranma chirped. "How is he?" Akane asked. "He just regained consciousness yesterday. Yeah, they flew him in the other night. He's pretty frail right now; lost a lot of weight, but the docs say the worst part is over. Everyone's pretty impressed that he's alive at all." "He's a tough one," Ranma admitted. "He'll be okay?" Akane asked. "Yeah, he just needs time to regain his strength. He'll be back abusing Shakespeare and waxing poetic in no time." "Joy," Ranma groused. "You said it, brother. Getting shot was the best thing that ever happened to me over there." He took his eyes off the road at a crucial moment to make an aside to Akane. "You see I had the hole next to his the whole time." Akane paled, but not for the reasons Hiro thought. Ranma jerked the wheel hard to keep them from plowing through a gaggle of pedestrians. "Jeez Ohata! Keep your eyes on the road!" Ranma yelled. Hiro leaned on the horn and yelled out the window, unfazed. "Out of my way! Beat it! Move that thing pal before I run it over!" He looked back to Ranma and Akane. Patting the dash he cried "God I love this thing! I need to have one when I get out. All I have to do is get through this war." Concern clouded Akane's face. "You mean you're aren't getting discharged?" **Could this mean Ranma won't be getting out either?** "Nah, I'm going back to the lines next week." He said evenly. He then perked up as he shot through a gap in traffic to a chorus of shouts and curses. "I'm not too worried though, I mean, this war can't last much longer." They arrived at the train station. Hiro kept the Hummer running while Ranma helped Akane with her luggage. Her train was departing soon, so they would have to keep their good-byes short. Akane reached up to hug him, and he returned her embrace fiercely. "Think about what we talked about last night," she said softly. "I will," he replied. "Good. I'll miss you." "I'll miss you too," he answered. I miss you already. She read his look and her eyes lit up even brighter. "And don't forget that I love you!" She placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him then. It was a little one, but all the sweeter for it. He flushed red and moved to take her up into his arms. Hiro began sounding the horn and making catcalls. They parted and looked around a little embarrassed. Akane put her hand to her mouth shyly and stepped onto the train as it began to roll slowly down the tracks. She waved to him, and he waved back. The taste of her was still sweet on his tongue. When the train was out of sight Ranma turned back for the Humvee. Hiro gave him a 'thumbs up'. "Outstanding Saotome! Simply Outstanding! You know you're the luckiest man I ever met?" At that moment Ranma was inclined to believe him. * * * Ranma checked himself in, handing his leave papers and his orders to the sergeant behind the desk. The sergeant grunted something and handed him a key to his barracks room and a stack of clean linen. "Fall in for Assembly at oh eight hundred tomorrow, out by the flag pole. They'll find you a job to do. In the mean time you're on liberty. Enjoy." Ranma took his key and linen and walked out. Hiro still had the Humvee waiting for him. "What room do you have Saotome?" He asked. "Uh, says here 308 C." "What an amazing coincidence," Hiro said flatly. "Why that's the same room I live in." "Go figure," Ranma said with a slight grin. "Even better; your good buddy and fellow NCO Ryoga Hibiki is in the same quad. We are going to party tonight!" **Ryoga Hibiki is many things, but I don't think party animal is one of them.** "Whatever you say." They stowed all of Ranma's meager possessions and made up his bunk. Because Ranma was a corporal, they were the only two in a room normally used by four. Ranma now understood why Hiro had maneuvered him into this room: so he wouldn't have three roommates. He didn't blame him though. All things considered, he would have done the same. There was a knock at the door. A private named Kitazume came in with a bottle of sake. His other arm was in a cast. "Ah Kitazume!" Hiro called. "Come and welcome our newest resident, Corporal Saotome Ranma!" Kitazume raised the bottle high. "An honor, Saotome!" He made a ridiculous and quite drunken bow. Ranma shrugged, and bowed in return. "Drink deep Saotome!" Kitazume pressed the bottle into Ranma's hands. "T' our brothers sloggin' in the mud an' the snow!" Ranma took a pull from the bottle in the hopes of getting Kitazume off his case. "Tha'ss the spirit!" He thought about the toast; about those brothers slogging in the mud and the snow. "Come on you lush!" Hiro scolded Kitazume. "Back to your room, we need to get Saotome settled in before you go to work on him!" "Thass'all right Ohata. I unnerstand." Kitazume staggered off out of the room. "Don't mind him, he'll be passed out within the hour," Hiro said when Kitazume was gone. "Thanks for your help," Ranma said. "I think I'm gonna walk around for a bit." Hiro clapped him on the shoulder. "Miss her already, eh Saotome?" Ranma gave him a surprised look. Hiro smirked. "I'm right, aren't I?" "Yeah, I guess." "Thought so." Ranma waved once and walked out of his room and into the quad common area. Three other rooms opened into the quad. One door was open, and some gaijin rock and roll was playing loudly. He ventured a peek inside. Ryoga wasn't there, and it was Ryoga that he was looking for. Instead a man with his left leg in a cast was bobbing his head with the heavy sounds of the music. The man waved his hand once to acknowledge Ranma, but didn't turn around. Ranma ducked out of the room. He walked out of the quad, leaped gracefully over the rail and somersaulted three stories down to land on his feet. He pulled at his stitches a little, but it felt good to cut loose. In another few days his bullet and his shrapnel wounds would have their stitches removed. He wasn't in top form, but he hadn't slipped as far as he thought either. He strolled along the base, taking note of places he'd need to go. Post Exchange, the Barber Shop, Mess Hall, Phone Center, etc. The shipyard and naval base weren't far. He could see an aircraft carrier listing badly to port. A North Korean Kilo submarine had been responsible for the deed. The naval base was fenced off, and he didn't much feel like going there anyway. He started for the Hospital. As much as he disliked Kuno, he at least wanted to see how the jerk was doing. At least to see if he had been worth the trouble of lugging over hills and under fire for three days. He was just in time for visiting hours. He wasn't family, but the young nurse at the desk wasn't adverse to letting him by. He gave her a sly wink and walked into Kuno's room. Tatewaki Kuno had been moved from ICU to a regular room. An IV drip stand trickled steadily into his arm. He was pale and wasted, but his eyes still had that steely glint about them. He was watching television; some samurai drama or other, and drifting in and out of sleep. He didn't notice Ranma enter the room. "Hey Kuno, how are ya feeling?" Kuno stirred in his bed as if some annoying insect was buzzing around his ear. "Hey Kuno, talk to me. It's Ranma." Kuno stirred again, eyes opening a bit wider now, and focusing on Ranma. "Saotome...?" Ranma flashed him a smile. "How ya feeling?" "Curse this medication that brings such unwanted apparitions to mine eyes..." "I'm glad to see you too." Kuno tried to blink him away, to no success. "Saotome...? It is you." "Of course it's me stupid!" Kuno tried to sit up in bed, an effort that was visibly painful for him. "So I see that your sorcerous powers have delivered you from a well deserved fate. Alas that I was not so fortunate." "You had me and Ryoga worried for awhile, but I see you've pulled through well enough." Kuno made a shooing motion with his hand. "Of course cretin, the line of Kuno is made of sterner stuff than thou." Ranma felt his blood pressure rising. "Well I just wanted to see how you were doing. I've gotta go now." "Hold, Saotome!" Kuno cried with surprising vigor. Ranma stopped in his tracks. Kuno marshaled his strength to speak. "I am told that you and Hibiki were instrumental in delivering me from death. As much as I find it difficult to conceive, I am compelled to seek the truth. Is this true?" Ranma nodded slowly. "It's true Kuno. And however you might feel about me, I... I-I'd do it again." He looked away for a moment. Seeing Kuno as weak and wasted as he was just didn't seem right. "I'm glad you're all right." Kuno thought about this for a moment. "Then Saotome Ranma, I owe to you and to Hibiki Ryoga my life." Ranma was taken aback by Kuno's declaration. "Aw come on Kuno, let's not count favors, okay?" "Take not my words so lightly Saotome!" Kuno thundered. He winced then as he pulled at his sutures, and for a moment he was the frail man Ranma remembered lying on a makeshift gurney in Korea. "For once overcome your poor breeding and ignoble mannerisms...Tatewaki Kuno does not make such declarations lightly nor in jest..." Ranma stood still. Kuno's presence was as amazing as ever, even lying in his sick bed. "I'm sorry Kuno," he said solemnly. "As you should be," Kuno said quietly. "If ever I may repay you, then I shall... I do not make pretense to be your friend, but you were my comrade in arms, and I shall never forget my debt to you...Good day to you, Saotome." Ranma offered his hand, which Kuno reluctantly took. "Good day to you, Kuno." * * * Ranma made his way back to his room. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from a meeting with Kuno, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't expecting what he got. Hiro had a few beers cooling in a plastic bucket of ice for him when he came in. Sitting on his bed was Ryoga Hibiki. "Hey Ryoga!" Ryoga nodded once for him. "How are your legs?" "My legs are fine," Ryoga insisted. "I've been training every day to build up my strength again." "I guess you've done more than I have," Ranma said flatly. He looked at Ryoga a little closer. There was a faint smudge on his cheek. "Hey what's that on your face?" He asked Ryoga. "Is that lipstick?" Ryoga flushed crimson and stammered, "Ah...Oh, um, it's nothing really." Hiro threw Ranma a beer. "Looks like the lovely Akari came by while I was away," he chuckled. "She's been doing that as soon as she heard he was here. You missed it though, being on leave." Ranma struck a bemused smile. "Nice going Ryoga! And I thought you'd be a bachelor the rest of your life!" Ryoga was still red, but now the veins bulged on his forehead and neck. "AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!!!! DIE SAOTOME!!!" Hiro waved his hands frantically. "Take it outside! Take it outside!" Ranma sprinted out the door, taunting Ryoga with his waggling tongue. Ryoga followed hot on his heels, and they both leaped off the balcony. Fists and feet flew in midair as they fought and fell. Hiro shook his head sadly. "I guess I should have seen this coming." He started out the door after them. Ranma and Ryoga landed several meters apart, sizing each other up. Hiro appeared at the top of the balcony, along with a crowd of the curious. Some of them were once part of 'A' Company and recognized the two. "Hey Saotome, kick his ass!" One called. "Hibiki, I got a thousand yen on you, so don't screw up!" Another yelled. Ranma dropped into a fighting stance. "Aww, widdle Ryoga's embarrassed?" Ryoga clenched his fists. "There won't be any artillery to save you this time Ranma!" The sound of air raid sirens suddenly erupted in the afternoon air. A voice over the base's public address system announced in English and Japanese that the alert was not a drill. All personnel were to proceed to the nearest shelter. Everyone looked to the skies. Time passed. On the other side of the bay a Patriot battery salvoed missiles into the air. They watched as the missiles climbed higher and higher into the sky. Their exhaust trails glowed faintly against the overcast December sky. Light glowed beyond the clouds for a few seconds and was gone. Several dull booms were heard after another minute. "Did they get 'em?" Someone asked. A flame trail spiraled down from the sky then. "Does that answer your question?" Hiro replied. The flame trail struck a hill side several kilometers away. A white shockwave of compressed moist air burst out from the point of impact, followed by a great orange and black fireball. Seconds later the windows shook with the report of the blast. At that point everyone decided to heed the shelter notices. Ranma, Ryoga, Hiro and a still drunk Kitazume huddled in the basement beneath their barracks building with the rest of the residents. Patriots climbed into the leaden skies; but two, then three incoming missiles hit the base. The ground shook and dust drifted down from the rafters. Little bits of scorched metal rained down from above as Patriots burst high over their heads. An hour passed before the 'all clear' was sounded. It began to snow. Ranma looked to Ryoga. "You were saying?" Chapter Two They spent the rest of the day clearing away rubble and looking for the wounded and the dead. Both categories were in abundance, as the last missile had struck the mess hall dead on. The building looked as if all four walls were blown out and the roof collapsed; which in effect is what happened. It was well past two in the morning when they were released from duty and sent to bed. Ranma found the oblivion of sleep only through his exhaustion. He realized that even Japan was no escape from the horrors of this goddamned war. Reveille came earlier than desired, in the form of yet another air raid siren just before dawn. Ranma found himself with the rest of his comrades in the basement again. The early morning sky was just turning pink on the eastern horizon. They could see distant streaks of moonlight reflected off shining metal from high in the west. A Patriot battery close to Tokyo lit up the sky with orange and pink light. The snow covered ground lit up with the glare. They watched the rocket climb higher and higher, then burst like a starshell into a thousand tiny glowing fragments that faded into nothingness. Distant explosions on the ground rolled like thunder some minutes later, and still more missiles had slipped through. None came close to the base, and after the sun had begun its climb into the sky, the 'all clear' was sounded. "Why are we letting the North Koreans launch these rockets at us?" Ryoga demanded. "We can't hit their launch sites because they're dug into those damn mountains," Hiro supplied. "Every time we try to bomb them, they just pull back into the mountain." "All we can do is wait for this damn war to end," Ranma said tersely. "That's not gonna happen any time soon," Hiro shot back, reversing his earlier opinion. * * * As promised, Ranma was given a job. He and the rest of the men who weren't disabled in some form or other were sent to finish clearing the rubble from the destroyed mess hall. A few ambulances were standing by in case more bodies were discovered, but the hope of finding any survivors was too slim to mention. He spent the next few days doing much of the same. Another missile attack sounded on the second day after, but was not directed at them. After all the rubble was cleared up, he was given a shovel and sent off with Ryoga and Hiro to clear all the sidewalks of snow. He didn't mind the busywork, and it certainly beat picking through charred rubble. He and Hiro had a good conversation going, wandering across many topics while politely avoiding the war. Ryoga had withdrawn into himself, as usual. First Sergeant Yoshida of all people appeared before them at lunch. He was in a clean and pressed uniform, though he still smelled of gun powder. Ranma stood up and saluted. "Hey Sarge, what brings you here?" He asked. Yoshida looked him over. "How are your wounds?" Ranma gestured to his bandages. "These'll be gone in another day or two." He looked to Ryoga. "And you?" Ryoga nodded. "I too will be fully healed in another day." "Good," Yoshida replied. "Corporals Saotome and Hibiki, Private Ohata; come with me. I have something very important to discuss with you." They saluted and fell into step behind Sergeant Yoshida. Yoshida took them to the Enlisted Club and bought a round of beers, a fact that drew surprised looks from them. They took their beers and found a quiet corner. The lunch crowd was starting to thin as patrons returned to their work. Yoshida let them get well into their drinks before speaking. "I have a request to make of you," he said at length. He turned his eyes to Ranma. "I understand that you and Hibiki are awaiting your discharges, and that you Ohata, will be returning to the company." They nodded their heads, not sure where the sergeant was going with this. "The situation in Korea is mixed," he began. "The combined military might of the UN Allies will shortly begin to tell. The North has probably enough troops and supplies for one final push. Our situation is still shaky though; if they were to succeed in an all-out advance, they would likely push the UN lines all the way to Pusan. If they fail, we will be able to drive them back across the Demilitarized Zone with little effort." Yoshida took a drink from his beer and continued. "You three have demonstrated exceptional courage and resourcefulness in combat." He looked at Ranma again. "The truth is I had written you and Hibiki off for dead when the North threw us off hill 1127. When I learned of your survival, I was amazed. The Brass was similarly impressed with you. That's why you were recommended for a special mission." They looked at Yoshida in surprise. "You were here when the missile attack came, I assume. Those weapons were not Scuds, like they said in the news. They were older, less capable models known as Frogs, but with an advanced twist. They had a booster stage to give them the range necessary to hit Japan." Ryoga's puzzlement showed better than the other two. "Excuse me Sergeant Yoshida, but what does that mean exactly? That they don't have any more Scuds?" "No. And that's the reason why I'm here in Japan telling you this. We have every reason to believe the Junta controlling North Korea is prepared to attempt a _nuclear attack_ to give them leverage at the peace talks in Brussels. They have been leaking such rumors for several weeks now, I'm told." "What?!" Ranma cried. "Nuclear attack?" Hiro repeated. "No way!" Ryoga snarled. "Keep your voices down!" Yoshida hissed. "This isn't something you can go shouting, even if you think no one will believe you!" "But what's this got to do with the missiles, those Frogs you were talking about?" Ranma asked. "The North is testing our air defense capabilities in order to prepare a strike that will be effective. They are also getting us to waste our limited number of air defense missiles on Frogs that carry much smaller warheads than the Scud-E. If they were to launch a full Scud attack, the worst estimates indicate that at least four nuclear bombs will get through to their targets. The best estimates indicate at least one will. One would be all that was necessary to utterly destroy any city in Japan." Yoshida let them dwell on that thought before continuing. They finished their beers quickly. "The UN is preparing a series of raids deep into North Korea to destroy their launch sites. Conventional bombing turned out to be useless, and no one wants to use nuclear weapons unless the North tries it first. Japan will be sending in its own team along with American, South Korean, and Australian Special Forces." He looked at each of them in turn. Yoshida's gaze was penetrating to one's very core. "I'm here to ask for you to volunteer for this mission. If you say no, than you Saotome, and you Hibiki will be discharged as planned. Ohata, you will rejoin the company as planned. I know that none of you received any Special Warfare training, but your skills and experiences qualified you in the Command's eyes. I'm not allowed to tell you much more than this, and what I've told you goes no further than here no matter what you decide." They sat before Yoshida speechless. "I'm staying in the Senior NCO barracks until the day after tomorrow. This is the number to the front desk watch. If you decide to volunteer, contact me through this number." He gave each of them a scrap of paper with a phone number scribbled on it. Then he stood up and left them in silence. * * * Ranma was quiet the rest of the day. Even gabby Hiro had nothing to say. Yoshida's revelation and his request were one-two punches to the solar plexus. **I promised Akane that I'd think about the future.** Ranma thought as he finished shoveling snow off the walkway to their barracks building. **I'm so close to putting this war behind me and starting over. I've got my whole life ahead of me, and for the first time ever I know I'll have someone by my side all the way. If I do what Yoshida asks, I could throw all of that away.** He set his shovel down into the bank of dirty snow and leaned on it. **I promised Akane that I'd think about the future.** He continued to lean on the shovel, blowing his breath out in steamy wisps. He looked across the open parade ground to the piles of charcoal and remnants of shattered masonry that had been the mess hall. With one Scud, it could be Tokyo as easily as that ruined building. **If I don't do this, I might not have a future. What the hell am I going to do?** He stood up straight and looked to Hiro and Ryoga. They looked back at him, expecting him to say something. He was silent, instead taking his shovel back to the tool issue shack. It was time to fall in for evening formation and be granted liberty for the night. Hiro was due to go back to Korea the day of Yoshida's deadline. Tomorrow he would be busy getting his affairs in order before catching a transport flight to Pusan the day after. The guys in the building were giving him a send-off party. Ranma had a bottle of sake in his hand, though he didn't do much drinking from it. Having it in his hand kept the other guys from pressing drinks upon him. Ryoga wasn't doing much drinking either, and no one was trying to get him to do so. He just stood in the corner by himself. **The original wet blanket,** Ranma thought in regards to Ryoga. They hadn't said much to each other since he had returned from leave. They were almost good friends at the end of their time in Korea, especially in those last days behind the lines, when they were wounded and struggling with a near dead Tatewaki Kuno. **What happened to you, Ryoga? How can you possibly live with so much anger and resentment? I know I've caused you a lot of pain and humiliation, and I know you blame me for so much more, but I never wanted to be your enemy...** "The only time I can be your friend is when someone else is trying to kill us," he said aloud. "What wuzzat?" Hiro asked with a lisp. He was more than a little drunk. "It was nothin'," Ranma replied. "Just thinkin' aloud." Hiro looked at him cross-eyed. "Ya know talkin' to yerself izza sign of impendig, impendig, impend_ing_ mental collapse." He looked to his left. "Right?" he asked to no one. "Right," he answered, now facing right. He then fell over laughing. Ranma allowed himself a smile, but little more. Hiro got back to his feet. "Whassa matter with you? This is supposed to be a party! I'm goin' back to hell; if anyone's gotta right to be down, it's me! Got it?" He made Ranma take a pull from his bottle and clapped him on the shoulder. "So party already!" He pressed. Ranma shrugged and jumped into the middle of the room with a whoop, grabbing the big guy with the broken leg and affectation for American heavy metal (who's name was Yamaga), and spinning around in circles. Yamaga whooped with Ranma, and hopped around on his one good leg, causing the rest of the crowd to cheer them on. "Much better!" Hiro called over the din. Despite himself, Ranma actually started having a good time. He did however keep away from the booze. Much later, about four in the morning, everyone had passed out or staggered back to their rooms. Ranma sat in the middle of the wreckage half asleep. His bottle of sake was still firm in his hand, nearly untouched. Hiro was laying face down next to him, mumbling something. Ryoga had left early, but no one except Ranma noticed. Hiro mumbled something again. Ranma leaned over to put his ear closer to Hiro's mouth. The booze breath was _harsh_. "I'm goin' wi' you, man." "What?" Ranma asked. He was sure he missed the first part of Hiro's sentence. "Wha'ever you decide, I got yer back." "What are you talking about?" Hiro tried to sit up, decided that gravity was indeed a harsh mistress, and settled for rolling onto his side. "If ya' go with 'shida, I'm comin' wi' ya." "Who says I'm going to volunteer?" Ranma snapped. "Aw come on, I can see it in yer eyes," Hiro replied. His own eyes were trying to stay in focus. "You don't wanna leave Akane an' go back to fight, but you can't sit here an' wait for sum asshole ta droppa noocular bomb on her either." Ranma didn't say anything. Hiro was more or less right on both counts. "I'm right ain't I?" "I don't want her to worry, that's all," Ranma said as a sort of admission. "So don't tell her," Hiro answered. "But if you're goin', than I'm goin' too." "That's crazy!" Ranma protested. "Do you want to get killed?" "Look my friend, I'm goin' over there anyway, so I might as well go do something that'll have some meaning to it." He raised his hands over his head. "If I'm gonna die over there it's not gonna be in some hole in the side of some fuckin' hill for a bunch of Koreans who hate our guts anyway. If I get it over there, it'll be to keep our Japan from gettin' fuckin' nuked again. Maybe keep pretty girls like your Akane from bein' incinerated." His hands dropped. "That's something I could die for." Hiro started to say something else before he passed out. Ranma spread a blanket over him and made sure he was lying face down. He turned off the lights and watched Hiro for a while, feeling the chill of winter sink into his bones despite the space heater they had going. At least they had the day off to recover. **I'll go...** He thought darkly. **Hiro's right. I can't sit here helpless. There's just no way I'd let something like this happen without a fight.** **What the hell do I tell Akane? I can't tell her why I'm going, and is she going to understand at all?** He sat there in the darkness of the room. The wind howled outside, threatening a storm. **She doesn't need to worry about me, so she doesn't need to know. It's probably wrong to keep this a secret, but I don't have any better ideas.** Outside the window the snow began to fall again, and he thought about her lying next to him in the garden; her intoxicating closeness, the warmth of her breath against his cool skin, the way she made him feel that everything was all right. **I promised Akane that I'd think about the future. Right now I can't think of any future without her. And that's why I have to do this...** Chapter Three Ranma left a message with Yoshida at the desk. He and Hiro had volunteered to go. He had the feeling Ryoga had volunteered too. His suspicions were proved the next day at the morning assembly. He and Hiro and Ryoga were taken aside to talk to Yoshida. "You're all volunteering eh?" He said evenly. It was tough to tell if he approved. They nodded once and added, "hai!" "Good. Tomorrow morning at oh six-thirty you will meet me at the motor pool. Bring only a change of uniform, your toilet kits and whatever small personal effects as you can't live without. We'll be driving to Sasebo. Use today to put your affairs in order, but remember that what you are doing is not to be discussed with anyone. Understood?" "Hai!" They answered in unison. "Dismissed. See you in the morning." The next morning came with a light snow fall. The sky was still very dark as they trudged to the motor pool. Ranma stopped long enough to drop a few letters in the mail box before catching up with Ryoga and Hiro. Sergeant Yoshida had a Humvee waiting for them, engine running. He was sitting in the passenger seat smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee from an anodized black thermos. The cherry on the end of his smoke glowed brighter as he saw them approach. Hiro took the driver's seat on instinct. Ranma and Ryoga climbed into the back. Two bedrolls and a camouflage pattern pancho liner were spread out in back with a cooler full of food and a large thermos of hot water for making tea. "Here's the map," Yoshida announced, handing it to Hiro. "Next stop Sasebo Naval Base." "We're driving non-stop I take it?" Hiro asked. "We'll stop long enough to take a piss or change drivers, but we _will_ get there by tomorrow morning," Yoshida answered. "Couldn't we just fly?" Ryoga asked. "Nope. Priority on fuel goes to our planes across the sea." They hadn't heard of any fuel rationing before. "This is also much lower profile than flying," Yoshida added when he saw that his first explanation wasn't setting with them. Even if it was true. They drove all day, just making the last ferry crossing to Kyushu before night. By midnight they were at the gates of Sasebo Naval Base. Yoshida flashed some papers to the gate guards, and they were admitted without incident. Yoshida went into a low drab building made of poured cement and other similarly uninspiring architecture that all government structures world wide employ. He returned to the Humvee after twenty minutes, while the three soldiers brewed some tea. He handed them a key. "There's a barracks down this road. Take the first left and go about 500 meters. We'll be here for the night. Our transportation to Korea doesn't arrive until tomorrow morning." Ranma was behind the wheel, and pulled out onto the snowy road. Their barracks was quiet and well lit with yellowish sodium lights. A sailor at the desk pointed to their rooms on a big map of the building. Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro shared a room. Yoshida had the room next to theirs. When they settled in Yoshida suggested they get sleep while they could. He'd be waking them up at oh dark-thirty. "What did the sarge mean by 'transportation'?" Hiro asked when they turned off the lights. "This is a naval base, you figure it out," Ranma replied. He was tired and thus grouchy. "I get seasick!" Hiro protested. "Guess you shouldn't have come," Ryoga said, the most he'd said all day. Yoshida rapped on their door about five-thirty in the morning. He instructed them to get dressed and meet him in the building's large common room in fifteen minutes. That didn't leave them much time between the three of them, and they squandered none of it with questions. They found Yoshida eating a simple breakfast of rice and soup. Three more places were set around the small table he had claimed. They saw twelve other men clustered in small groups at other tables. Ranma noticed Special Forces flashes on their shoulders. "You're late," Yoshida said sternly. They were almost a minute late. Before they could make excuse or apology, Yoshida continued. "That was the last time you will be late. From this point on you will be punctual to the very second; not a moment sooner and not a moment later. If you can't meet this simple requirement, I will arrange for your return to Yokosuka immediately. Am I clear on this?" "Hai!" They cried in unison. "Then I suggest that you synchronize your watches with mine," he said, and marked the top of the minute for them. "Now sit down and eat. We must be at the armory by six-thirty." They ate in silence, each wondering just what they had gotten themselves into for about the hundredth time since they left Yokosuka. The Special Forces troops gave them looks ranging from the aloof to the curious, but said nothing to them or to First Sergeant Yoshida. When they reached the armory a sergeant from the Special Forces troop bowed for Yoshida and gave him a formal greeting like any student before his sensei. Yoshida returned the greeting as any master to his disciple. The formalities dispensed, they traded words that Ranma and the others couldn't hear, but were certain pertained to them. A Special Forces major and an American Navy lieutenant commander were waiting inside the armory. The major accepted Yoshida's salute and handed him a folder full of papers. "These are your men?" The major asked, referring to Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro. "Yes sir!" Yoshida answered. There was the faintest hint of pride in his voice. "Then they come well recommended," the major added. "Have they been briefed on the scope and parameters of our mission?" "No sir, I defer to your discretion in this. They know only the base intent and implications of failure." "Just as well then," the major said. It was clear that he wanted to conduct the brief himself, and was pleased to have Yoshida recognize this. He nodded to Yoshida, who turned to face the soldiers. "Fall in, column of twos!" He ordered. The troop quickly jumped into two neat columns of men. Ranma and the other two found themselves at the back of the column. "Fo'ward, march!" They marched behind Yoshida, who led them to a staging area. He ordered them to stand at parade rest while the major and the American conducted the brief. The major introduced himself as Takeshi Ishikawa, and the American as Lieutenant Commander Matthew Zuider. Both were Special Forces in their respective militaries. Ishikawa would command the squad, and Zuider would act as liaison with the Americans. Ishikawa rambled on about timetables, insertion points, communications protocols and crypto, and probably much more. Unfortunately he was far above Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro's military comprehension. Ishikawa was also a poor speaker, and tended to wander from subject to subject at random. Ranma didn't consider him incompetent; far from it. He had developed a sense for judging people's abilities in the years following his little Jusenkyo 'accident', and what he saw in Ishikawa was this: He was a thoroughly professional, thoroughly merciless, cold-blooded killer. He was a field man, and would never succeed in more civil circles of officer gentry. Doubtless he would never see high rank because of this fact. Ranma looked to Yoshida, who read his look and whispered to all three of them, "Listen to me, do what I tell you, and do it exactly when I tell you. You don't need to know any of this, and I doubt you would understand half of it anyway. Your training came under fire and under much different circumstances, and your purpose in this team reflects this." Ranma gave him a questioning look at Yoshida's last statement, but the sergeant simply turned around to continue with the brief. After the brief they were formed up into two teams of six, and Yoshida, Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro. A corporal from the armory staff unlocked various containers and cases under the supervision of a lieutenant. Ranma and the others could see various weapons, ammunition, and explosives being made ready. The Special Forces sergeant stepped forward to act as the issuing officer. "As your name is called, step forward and draw your weapons and ammunition. Sign your full name on the receipt given to you by Corporal Oshii, and stand by with your team." He called off the names of the Special Forces troops; who took an array of assault rifles, submachine-guns, pistols, grenades, ammo, and enough plastic explosives to orbit Mount Fuji. Each signed his name to the issuing receipt and took his place back with his team. "Ohata!" The sergeant called. Hiro stepped forward and was given a rifle, ten loaded magazines, enough loose ammo for ten more, a pistol with two magazines, and a manpack secure radio. He signed his name and returned to Ranma's side. "Saotome!" Ranma was issued a rifle, an MP-5K submachine-gun, ten magazines of ammo for both weapons, a belt of 7.62mm machine-gun ammo, two disposable rocket launchers, and four each of fragmentation and thermite grenades. He signed and took his place by Ryoga. "Hibiki!" Ryoga was given an M-60E3 machine gun, six belts of 7.62mm ammo, a pistol and two magazines. Corporal Oshii gave Ryoga a grin. "Looks like you'll be the 'pig-man' on this one," he said. The M-60 was not the standard issue light machine-gun, and was substituted for the usual M-249 by Ishikawa, who felt the need for the heavier 7.62mm round the M-60 used. The term 'pig-man' came from the Vietnam War, referring to the men who had to haul that 'pig' around. American influence in the JGSDF had introduced the term, and it stuck. Ryoga of course wasn't familiar with the origins of 'pig-man', and quite expectedly took it personally. "Pig man!?" Ryoga bellowed. "Hibiki!" Yoshida warned sternly. Ryoga brought himself under control (an act of significant willpower), and returned to the team. "Hit the nail right on the head, eh P-Chan?" Ranma teased in a whisper. "Quiet you!" Ryoga hissed. "Oh I dunno. I thought it was kind of appropriate." Hiro observed. "The three of you be quiet or I'll cut your throats right here," Yoshida growled between clenched teeth. They were issued other equipment and supplies and loaded them into two trucks. They spent the rest of the morning hunkered around the running engines of the trucks to keep warm. The snow had stopped falling, and the skies were clear and cold. Yoshida was off with Ishikawa and Zuider, leaving the men to themselves. "Just who are you fools supposed to be?" One of the Special Forces men asked them. Ryoga and Ranma's hackles went up instantly. Hiro was quick to jump in before things went to hell. "Well I'm Ohata Hiro," he said smugly. "Oh yeah?" The Special Forces man returned. "And what do you do?" "Well I'm an excellent shot, a top rate radioman, and the best goddamned driver in the world!" The soldier laughed once, a short bark more than anything. "I like the attitude, maybe I'll let you live after this is over." **Ohhhh Shit...** Hiro thought. He saw Ryoga's foot strike out at the soldier's face. The soldier saw it too late. Ryoga planted his strike right on the chin, cold-cocking him. The others looked up and saw what had happened. They gave the three evil looks and started for them slowly. Ranma and Ryoga dropped into fighting stances. "So the fresh meat wants to play?" One of them observed. "It's going to be hamburger when we're done," another added. "Bring it on," Ranma shot back. "Hey guys, let's not be too hasty. The enemy is North Korea, remember?" Hiro pleaded. "Let's just say we consider you to be targets of opportunity," a third growled. "Enough talk!" Ryoga yelled. He charged into the middle of them. They rained down blows upon him, but Ryoga shrugged them off effortlessly. He drove his finger down into the macadam and yelled, "BREAKING POINT STRIKE!" The explosion of pavement threw them off his body in a rush of choking grey dust and asphalt shrapnel. They fell around him like numbers on a clock face as he drew himself up to his full height. They slowly got to their feet, determined not to let that happen again. Ranma kept his guard up, waiting for them to make the first move. He received three opponents for his troubles. He wasted no time, throwing a blurring series of punches and strikes into them. One went down, nose gushing blood. Another took a shot across the jaw and pinwheeled to the pavement. The third staggered back a few steps wondering what the hell had just hit him. Ranma wasn't without his own marks, but they hadn't landed a tenth of the blows upon him. He stood his ground, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. No one else wanted a shot at him. Ryoga went unchallenged as well. "Anyone else have a problem?" Hiro asked them. Yoshida, Ishikawa, and Zuider returned then, and all of them jumped to attention. Ishikawa didn't need much help figuring out why his men were muddy and bloody, but he said nothing of it. He addressed them as if nothing had happened. "Load up!" He ordered. They piled into the trucks. Yoshida sat with Ranma and the others. "Blowing off steam? Or figuring out where you stand in the pecking order?" He asked them. "A little of both I think, sergeant!" Hiro replied. "Did you win?" "Hai!" Ranma and Ryoga replied. "Good. It saves me the trouble of provoking something between you and the others." "Huh?" Hiro grunted in surprise. "How well do you think you would work as a team being outsiders?" He asked them. "By fighting them and winning, you gained their respect." "Or just made a few enemies," Hiro said glumly. "You must understand Ohata, that these men undertake missions far more dangerous than regular troops. They depend on each other's skills and mettle for survival. Because you were an unknown to them, they could not put trust in you. Now they know that you are formidable opponents, which also makes you formidable allies." They drove out to a finger pier. A small boat waited for them. It's diesel engine chugged at idle. "Load the gear in the boat," Yoshida directed. "What? We're gonna ride all the way to Korea in that?" Ryoga stammered. "Idiot," Ranma spat. "Get moving you two!" Yoshida ordered, shoving them both out of the truck. They joined the others in loading the boat. A few sailors on the pier cast them off, and the boat chugged out into the channel. They drove out for several miles before at last seeing their transport. **Not again!** Ranma thought blackly. A submarine cruised slowly towards them. Men stood lookout on the fairwater planes, and others were perched atop the sail. An American flag fluttered from a small mast behind the men in the sail. Several spotted masts and slender green antennae rose above them. Behind the sail were two large cylindrical objects riding piggy-back on their sides atop the superstructure. "It's the best way of inserting undetected," Yoshida said to them. "If you say so," Hiro cracked. The boat pulled alongside the sub, which came to a halt in the choppy waters. Sailors in blue coveralls and men in green camouflage fatigues helped load the gear aboard. A seven foot diameter hatch swung open aft of the large black cylinders with a heavy thunk. **That looks like a missile launch tube!** Ranma realized. He'd seen something just like it in one of those gaijin action movies. **Then again...** Sailors began to load the weapons and equipment into the open hatch. They were taken on board. As Ranma climbed down the hatch and into the sub he began to get the feeling that he'd been here before. He nearly walked into a large man with a scraggly beard and horrifying set of teeth. It was the same sub. No one recognized him, which suited him fine. They went down a steep set of stairs and turned left into a long compartment with large cylinders rising up through the decks. They looked just like the missile tubes he'd seen in that movie. Dirty laundry hung from piping and valves all around them, most of it olive drab and woodland camouflage. The compartment had the musky smell of unwashed men. **And if I remember right, I turn left again, go down the left side about halfway, and that's where they put me and Ryoga and Kuno.** LCDR Zuider led them along the right side of the compartment and through a watertight door. Ranma ducked through the door and into a passageway just wide enough for one man to walk through. Zuider motioned for them to pass through a regular door to their left. They came into a space filled with two rows of tables and bench seats. It was a mess hall in miniature; it could accommodate perhaps forty men at meals. Several of the sub's crew were in the compartment. LCDR Zuider was proficient in Japanese, and he translated for those whose English wasn't so great. Like Ranma and Ryoga. The ship's corpsman (they didn't have their own doctor, although the SEALs on board had their own medical staff) and the Navigator gave them a brief on ionizing radiation exposure and the places they were and weren't allowed on board. (Which was Radio, Sonar, the Torpedo Room, and the Engineering spaces including and aft of the Reactor Compartment.) As they were all foreign citizens, they had to have an escort with them at all times. The Chief of the Boat and a few officers gave their own briefs about good submarine practices, about noise reduction, and what to do if an emergency happens. They didn't bother to mention about what to do if the boat started sinking. An announcement was made over the ship's speakers, referred to as the '1MC' by the crew. "The Officer of the Deck has shifted his watch below decks... Recirculate." This was followed by the sensation of increasing speed, and the boat began to rock back and forth. Hiro began to look green about the gills almost immediately. The 1MC buzzed again as someone held down the microphone button to speak. "DIVE! DIVE!" AAAWWOOOOOGAAAHHH!! AAAWWOOOOOGAAAHHH!! "DIVE! DIVE!" The boat began to nose down slightly as the air rushed from the ballast tank vents. Men casually walked about inspecting the ship for leaks. They leveled off after some minutes, the ride becoming as smooth as glass. Hiro looked noticeably relieved. Their escorts were two members of the off-going watch section. Apparently the crew rotated around an eighteen hour cycle of six hour watches. One section was on watch. The section just relieved was the off-going section. The third section was on coming, and expected to use the time to sleep. The escorts showed them their sleeping arrangements. They would have beds in the Missile Compartment; the space where the SEALs slept and where weapons and ammunition was stored. A triple bunk was stuck between a group of four tubes. Ryoga took the bottom rack, with Hiro quickly claiming the middle. That left the top for Ranma, who grudgingly climbed up into the top bunk for an idea of what sleeping on this sub would be like. The last time he was aboard, he was too hurt and exhausted to care. "Just how are you supposed to sleep in these things?" Hiro wondered from below. One of the escorts laughed as the three wiggled around in their beds. "" The other rubbed at his beard. "" Hiro's English was pretty good, and he asked the two, "" The taller of the two looked at the other. "" The shorter one replied, "" "" said the first. They looked at each other in thought. "" They cried in unison. The taller man rubbed at his beard again. "" * * * Ranma-chan stepped out of the shower and straight across the narrow passageway into the cubby hole of their racks. A black curtain was drawn across the space between the tubes for privacy. The lights in the compartment were out, and most of the people here were asleep. Ryoga was fast asleep. His leg dangled out of the rack beneath his own privacy curtain. His slow even breaths could be heard above the muted hum of recirculation fans and the sounds of the pressure hull flexing as the submarine changed depth. Their space was lit by red fire lights at floor level. Hiro watched her come in. Setting down a pad of paper he was using to write a letter, he stared at her for a few moments. Ranma-chan thought nothing of it and draped her towel over a valve handwheel to dry. Her wet body glistened in the ruddy light. "I wish you wouldn't do that," Hiro said quietly. "Do what?" Ranma-chan asked. "Look, I can handle the whole curse thing. I can accept what happens to you and Ryoga when you get wet, but when you prance around naked and I haven't been around a girl in a while, it really bugs the hell out of me." Ranma-chan threw on a pair of shorts and an olive drab tank top. "Sorry. Guess I'll go to the galley for some hot water." "Why didn't you just turn back into a guy while you were in the shower?" Ranma-chan gestured to her petite form. "Because I'm a lot smaller as a girl. I can be a little more comfortable in these tiny little beds. I just hope I don't wake up suddenly in the middle of the night and bash my head." "Well then stay a girl. Just keep your clothes on already." "Okay," Ranma-chan grinned. "Sorry." "You know Saotome, you're just too cute for your own good." The next afternoon was as quiet as the first. They had just finished watching a movie on the mess decks, the perennial favorite with the SEALs: "Tombstone". Their escorts were the same two as the previous day. "" The bearded one said. Lights began to flash on and off. Ranma had noticed these incandescent lamps before, and had never seen them lit until now. The boat's illumination was provided by fluorescent lights. The two escorts looked up to confirm what they believed was happening. Already crew members were scurrying quickly and quietly through the watertight door to and from the Operations Compartment. "" Hiro asked. "" the shorter escort supplied. "" "" "" The three paled. They did not like the idea of being trapped several hundred feet underwater while the North Koreans dropped bombs on them from above. The man looked bored with the whole idea. "" The two left them with LCDR Zuider and Ishikawa, then took off headed aft. The Troop waited in silence. A few members of the Damage Control Party Forward walked by them to a fire hose connection and began faking out the hose. Breathing masks called EABs were passed out, and several people plugged the supply hoses into manifold connections scattered about the compartment over their heads. Half an hour passed, and still nothing happened. A few of the DC party began to talk quietly amongst themselves. "Wonder what's going on," Ryoga said in a hushed voice. "I don't hear any depth charges," Hiro added. Zuider sat down next to them. "It might not be the North Koreans. We have to hide from our own ships and aircraft as well as the enemy. They can't really tell who's who sometimes, and after the _Vinson_ was hit, everyone up there got a little trigger happy." Time crawled along. The 1MC clicked on. Several members of the DC party stood up, expecting to secure from Battlestations. "_SNAPSHOT, Tube Three!_" Everyone froze. Forty seconds ticked by in utter silence. The silence was broken with a _Klunk- Whunk...Thump...BSSSSHHHHHHHHTTT!_ "What the hell was that?" Ranma asked for all of them. From aft, on another MC circuit was heard, "All Ahead Flank Cavitate! Shifting Main Coolant Pumps to fast speed!" The boat began to nose down and pick up speed. The decks vibrated as the submarine surged ahead at its maximum velocity. The DC party stood by, ready for anything. More time passed. A faint whistling noise could be heard, but no one had any idea what it was. The crew waited with dread for what might follow. Ranma and the others didn't know what might follow, but if the crew was worried, they decided to be worried too. A giant hammer blow rang off the hull of the submarine, pitching men to and fro and rattling pipes over their heads. The sound was deafening. Ranma watched as a run of piping jumped a foot from its place and paint chips and dust flurried around them. A siren whooped as men fought to regain their footing and scrambled around looking for damage. "Explosion close aboard!" The 1MC crackled. "All hands inspect spaces for damage and make reports to DC Central." Ranma and the others joined in the search. There were minor leaks and some injuries, but they had fared much better than those first few seconds had seemed. They stood down from Battlestations after all damage and injuries were assessed. LCDR Zuider found them sitting in a group around a missile tube. The tension was still evident on their faces. Ishikawa had suffered a cut across his arm that the corpsman was stitching up in the tiny sick bay behind them. "I'm told we nearly ran over a Romeo class sub. The explosion was our torpedo hitting it." Ryoga didn't buy it. "That was our torpedo hitting _them_?" "They say it was only five thousand yards away when it got them," Zuider explained. Ranma did the math. "That's two and half miles away!" "A Mark 48 packs a big warhead. Plus concussion transmits better through water than air." "I thought that was _us_ getting hit," Hiro gushed. "I thought we were doomed." "Well never fear, we'll be leaving this tub tonight. >From now on we'll be in control of our fate." Zuider stood up. Ishikawa was all stitched up, and motioned for Yoshida to come over. They talked for a few moments. "We'll have our final mission brief and hand out assignments in one hour. Weapons and equipment checks will follow the brief. Get cleaned up and be in line for the meal as soon as the on-coming crew members have eaten." Chapter Four "Prepare to surface without air," the Chief of the Watch ordered over the 1MC. They were dressed out in camouflage fatigues and grease painted faces and hands. The lights were switched to red as they prepared to go topside. Crew members and SEALs stood by to help them get ready. "SURFACE! SURFACE! SURFACE!" Cried the 1MC. A large fan kicked on from somewhere forward. The boat slowly pulled itself out of the sea as air was drawn through the snorkel mast and blown into the ballast tanks. Within ten minutes a phone-talker reported that the boat was surfaced, and that they had permission to open the hatches. The crewman with the formidable teeth climbed up the ladder and twisted the wheel to undog the hatch. It sprung open with a heavy thunk. He opened the upper hatch, and cold night air rushed in, refreshingly clean. There was no moon out, and the sky was overcast and dark. They clambered topside. Two men and a phone-talker took stations, and a big missile tube muzzle hatch swung open. The crew and the SEALs pulled inflatable rubber boats from the tube and readied gasoline powered outboard motors. When the two RIBs were inflated and ready, the troops piled into them with their gear. Ishikawa admonished them to keep a secure hold on their weapons and equipment. The dark outline of the North Korean coastline was to their left, just barely on the horizon. The missile hatch went shut and the crew all dropped below. They shut the hatches behind them as the last man went down. The Team waited in the boats for the submarine to dive. "As Kuno would say, 'Once more into the breach, dear friends.' " Hiro declared. The ballast tank vents opened. Six tall fountains of spray thirty feet high hissed from the vents atop the superstructure. The submarine began to sink underneath them, and the cold and choppy sea awaited their boats. They entered the water roughly, a wave splashing over them. Ryoga dropped into the folds of his uniform instantly with a squeal of disgust. Ranma cursed in a voice much higher pitched as the red bangs appeared over her eyes. Hiro and Yoshida winced as they saw what had happened, but everyone else was too busy keeping the boat steady to notice. **Well this is a great way to start off. Good thing I planned ahead.** Ranma-chan thought to herself. The steel thermos was comfortably warm at her side. They got the outboards running and trolled towards the coast. Ranma-chan used a little of her hot water on Ryoga, saving the rest for later if they needed it. At least as a pig it didn't take much to transform Ryoga back to his human self. Ryoga sizzled up into his uniform all backwards and inside out. Yoshida barked in a hushed tone to get squared away and keep a sharp look out. Ranma-chan winked to him once and peered down the nightsight of her rifle. Ryoga grimaced and put his uniform on correctly. Ishikawa was in the other boat, which was still having problems, and had yet to notice the strange transformations in his team. * * * Ukyo had just finished cleaning up her okonomiyaki shop, and sat down to read her mail. Most of it was the usual stuff; bills and junk mail. The personal letter surprised her, as she got few of them these days. The name of the sender surprised her even more. "Ranma-honey!" She cried in delight. She tore open the letter and pulled out a hastily scrawled piece of paper. She scanned it quickly, eyes suddenly widening in shock. "No..." She breathed softly. Dear Ucchan, I'm writing you this because you're the only one I can talk to. Something has come up that I couldn't talk about even if I understood it. I'm going back to Korea. I'm not being ordered to or nothing, but I have to go. I'll explain someday when this is all behind us. I had to tell someone, and I can't tell Akane. I don't think she'd understand. I don't want her to worry, either. Just in case something happens to me, I want you to tell her that I wouldn't have gone back to Korea if it wasn't important. And believe me, it is important. You're my best friend Ucchan, and the only one I can trust to do the right thing. But don't worry, 'cause I'm not planning on dying. Your Friend, Ran-chan P.S. If you can, get everyone out of the city for a week or so. This is important! Ukyo couldn't believe she was reading this. Ranma going back to Korea? She couldn't imagine any reason that would convince Ranma to go back into combat. And get everyone out of the city for awhile? What the hell was that about? She set the letter down, resisting the urge to crumple it up and forget all about it. **Don't you dare let anything happen to you Ranchan!** She thought, choking back tears. The boats crested the low surf as two troopers jumped out of each and towed them to the rocky beach. They clambered out of the boats and dragged them fully out of the water. Ranma-chan and Ryoga covered while the others dug holes to bury the boats and motors. Ishikawa got their bearings and formed them up into a file. Ranma, Hiro and Ryoga stayed in the van while a Special Forces soldier took point and another walked drag. They made for the first line of hills that would take them into the valley east of Wonsan. They walked in silence, melding with the terrain, invisible in the dark winter night. They scanned black hills with their nightscopes, crossed snowy valleys along wildlife trails, slipped through lines of barbed wire and dragon's teeth. The coastal city of Wonsan was darkened against air raid. They used the darkness to skirt around the town and head inland for the line of mountains that was their objective. The sound of artillery was to the south. Jet aircraft flew high overhead in defiance of North Korean Air Defenses. At odd times during the night a missile volley would scream into the skies to intercept those aircraft, and lines of green tracer fire criss-crossed the darkness. The sudden skyfire would light up the snowy forested hills around them, and they used that light to look for the enemy. They found them in darkened columns along unlit roads, trucks and armored vehicles and artillery. Men marched in silence beneath them on the hill, only the drone of engines rolled off the hill sides to give them. away. This was the final push being made ready. The team moved on without contact. They had their objective and didn't spare even another moment for the troops below them. They also had a time table. Somewhere on this peninsula, Ranma knew, were other teams of commandos. Americans, South Koreans, Australians. Even another Japanese team that would insert by parachute drop -an even greater risk than walking over kilometers of enemy territory given the foul weather and the formidable air defenses. If the gods were willing, they would all hit their targets within minutes of each other and overwhelm the North Korean Rocket Forces. If not, the very raid itself might preclude the missile attack they were trying to prevent. Dawn was threatening with graying skies to the east. They dug into the thick woods along a hill and slept in shifts. Snow began to fall as noon approached, the beginnings of a storm. Hiro monitored the commo channels. Just as the storm was coming upon them he learned that the final offensive had begun. As the wind became colder and stronger, Yoshida formed them up to march again. They would use the storm to cover their advance. With luck they'd gain an extra few hours to scout and prepare for their strike. First contact came by blind chance. A crackle of automatic weapons fire bit into the freezing air. Ranma and the others crouched low and looked for cover, while the support team with Ryoga moved up along the hill top to flank. The sound of their own weapons returning fire came next; quick, precise bursts. Ryoga's M-60 joined the cacophony of shouts, cries, and fire. The snow was blinding and the terrain lush with trees. Ranma wasn't sure where the enemy was, only that they were in front of him somewhere. Several of his own team were also ahead of him. That would complicate things. Yoshida nudged him. "Move forward Saotome. Cut along the lower trail with Ohata and sweep around to the right fifty meters. And Saotome, none of this shooting to wound. We can't afford to leave any survivors. Shoot to kill." Ranma swallowed hard. He knew that coming back to Korea for this mission would mean sparing no mercy for his enemies. As abhorrent as killing had been for him, there was an undeniable necessity for it if he wished to live. He steeled himself and scrambled down the hill with Hiro. They dashed through a copse of trees, the snow blowing around them, and the wind covering their advance. Ranma wasn't sure how far fifty meters was through all this, but thumped Hiro on the elbow and bore left to take them back up the hill and to the sporadic sounds of gunfire. He was breathing hard now and sweating even though it was below freezing. There was movement above and ahead of them. Ranma dropped into a firing stance as Hiro covered around a tree. He saw them then, three North Koreans. They were running down the hill while one was trying to get their radio to work. He held his breath and took aim. By reflex he aimed low. At the last he brought his rifle up and squeezed the trigger, cursing in his mind and trying to forget what he was doing even as the recoil driving into his shoulder stirred his blood. A three round burst flew precisely as aimed, taking the one with the radio straight through the chest. Bright red blood sprayed from his body and sparks flew from the radio pack as the bullets burst clear out his backside. The other two dropped into the snow and brought up their weapons firing. The dead man with the radio hit the snow with a heavy thump as Ranma took aim and fired again. His burst tore through a Korean's head in a blossom of red blood, black hair and pink froth. Hiro stitched fire across the other, catching him along the back. Ranma saw the snow stained red as the last of the three spasmed once and then lay still. Steam curled from their lifeless forms. The shooting had stopped above them. They reached the top of the hill in time to see one of their own cutting the throat of a wounded Korean. He held the man down almost gently with his hand over the mouth as he drew his razor sharp tanto across the tender brown flesh. The Korean gave one brief whimper behind the gloved hand before the light went from his eyes. Yoshida's words came back to him in rush that threatened to expel his breakfast. **We can't afford to leave any survivors.** Ishikawa cleaned his knife on the body of another dead Korean. He circled his hand to bring the team together. They hadn't taken any casualties. "We need to move on. There's no time to dispose of the bodies," he said just loud enough to be heard over the wind. "By the time they're discovered in all of this bad weather, we should be long gone. Let's go sergeant." Yoshida nodded. "Yessir. Saotome, you and Ohata form up with Hibiki in the support team. The rest of you move out." Ryoga nodded as Ranma and Hiro joined him. His M-60 steamed as flakes of snow melted upon the barrel. Flecks of red speckled his face and fatigues. His face was a gaunt mask, in some ways mirroring their own. "You okay, Ryoga?" Ranma asked. "I'm fine, Ranma." Ryoga replied flatly. "Thanks for asking," he added. Ranma tipped his helmet back with the muzzle of his rifle. "You're my friend, Ryoga. Whether you like it or not." Ryoga started marching as the team moved out. "Heh... It's something I need to get used to, Ranma." "Take your time," Ranma finished with a wave of his hand. One of the Special Forces team approached them and clapped Ranma on the shoulder. "You guys did good. Those three would have slipped away if it weren't for you, and it'd be all of our asses for it." Ranma nodded slowly, accepting the truth of it if not the praise. They pressed on with new urgency. They had to assume the alert had gone out, and that troops would pursue them. They walked single file to hide their numbers, and the snowfall covered their tracks. It was night again when they sighted their objective. A line of hard rock mountains that the North Koreans had been tunneling into for decades. These mountains had concealed their cache of food, weapons and ammunition so well that even the US had no true estimate of their supplies. Air Defense batteries ringed the mountains and lay in wait in the valleys. The ground was churned where repeated bombing attacks had pounded the countryside. Surface to Air Missile batteries probed overcast skies the color of lead. 57mm anti-aircraft cannon awaited direction from radar sites that lay beneath camouflage netting and sandbags. The radars themselves lay along the back sides of hills to prevent anti-radiation missiles from destroying them. The wrecks of Allied planes were scattered across the hills. Snow covered the twisted and burned wreckage from older crashes, and steam wafted from the embers of recent ones. The UN forces had paid dearly to fly over these hills. Ishikawa called a halt. They set up around the ridgeline, keeping to the opposite bank for cover. Final plans were laid and weapons were checked and rechecked. Ishikawa and Zuider scanned the mountain redoubt for a way in. Their satellite radar image photos had located a likely access to the mountain that was close to a nest of launchers, and now it was up to them to translate that data into something they could use. While the officers searched; Ranma, Hiro, and Ryoga squatted in the cover of the brush to change their socks. Their feet were wet and freezing, and they were down to their last pair of dry socks. The others in the team followed suit. They pulled their boots off and stripped away their socks, wringing them out before stowing them in their packs. Each spent a few minutes rubbing the circulation back into their feet. They pulled their last pairs of socks from the shelter of their jackets, their body heat keeping them toasty warm. Their feet rejoiced at having something dry and warm to protect them again. They were all tired and cold. The last meal they had taken had been on the march. Niceties like hot food and some good tea were only waking dreams as they marched. "I'll be glad when this is over," Ryoga said quietly. "You and me both," Hiro added. "One way or another." "What do you mean by that?" Ranma asked. Hiro shrugged. "Has it occurred to you just how deep this pile of shit we've landed in is? When we go down there and start blowing things up, we'll have the whole damn North Korean army up our ass with a stick. Getting out of here alive is gonna be tougher than getting into that mountain." Ryoga's face twisted into anger. "Didn't you volunteer for this?" He hissed. Hiro looked down at his knees. "Sure did," he replied softly. "Then don't complain. You asked for this y'know." "Yeah, I know. I just wondered if _you_ knew." After an hour of painstaking search with nightvision gear they found the access they were looking for. Ishikawa detailed their plan one last time. When he finished he decided to make one last point perfectly clear. "When we go in we can't let up for an instant," he began. "We're outnumbered badly. If we give them the time to rally, they'll cut us to pieces. If we give them time to react, they might try to launch their missiles." He lowered his voice slightly before continuing. "If any of us survive, link up along the coast and head south." He looked at each of his men in turn. "Good luck to us all. Sergeant, move us out." Yoshida formed them up, and they marched down the hill and into the last valley before the mountain. Hiro offered a silent prayer above. Ranma joined him, though he didn't know it at the time. * * * Akane pushed aside her piles of books and other people's notes. She had spent days trying to cover the material she had missed. She could pass her finals, but it would take some kind of miracle to salvage her grades. The snow was falling again outside the window of her tiny flat. Her roommate was asleep in the next room, snoring softly. It was cold, but she didn't mind it so much. Once she took her finals she could return home and relax for a little while. Ranma would be home for good, and that would do wonders for her piece of mind. The fact that his friend Hiro could be sent back to Korea did not sit well with her. Once she returned home she would work on him a little more to get him to come to school with her next fall. **It shouldn't take too much persuasion,** she mused with a sly smile. **Just have to convince him that the company _is_ better with me than at home.** She decided to call it a night. Morning was closer to the truth, actually. She just had one exam today, and that was in the afternoon. No problem. A little sleep and she'd be feeling fine and fit. She began stacking and filing her notes. It was an attempt at least to try and overcome the entropy that overwhelmed the living room table. A stack of mail fell from beneath a pile of notebooks. **Must be Yumiko's,** she thought, picking up the letters. **She brought in the mail, but she didn't say anything was for me.** Akane found herself looking at the names just the same. "Hey! This is from Ranma!" She cried in surprised unbelievable jealousy. **How the heck does he know Yumiko?** Her mind ranted at full volume. Yumiko stirred in the other room, but became still after a minute's silence from Akane. She looked closer at the letter. Her face reddened sheepishly as she saw that letter was addressed to her, that all of the mail was addressed to her. Akane wasted no time in ripping the envelope open. She hadn't thought he would write to her with the two of them only hours apart by train. Giving him her address had been something of wishful thinking. The letter was typical Ranma she saw upon cursory glance. Short. Dear Akane, Life here at the base is pretty boring. Well except for that missile attack, but don't worry, they didn't come anywhere near me. We've got some missiles of our own to shoot them down anyways. Everything looks good for me getting out by Christmas. I'm sure it will be the best one we've had in a long time. At least the army's paying me more than what I made doing odd jobs, so I can afford to get you a really nice present. If you want to talk to me about college, I'll listen. Sitting here shoveling snow has really made me think about it. I say what the heck, if I don't like it, I always have a job at the dojo. I've gotta go now so I'll wrap this up. Good luck with your finals, and I'll see you soon. Love, Ranma Akane couldn't help but get a little dewy-eyed when he was intimate with her. She read the letter again before folding it neatly into the envelope. She would put it with all of the other letters he had written her, the ones from Korea. Reading those letters made being apart easier for her. She turned off the light. The flakes of snow dusting her window stirred with the wind, which sighed peacefully. For a moment she wondered if Ranma was awake watching the snow somewhere. She decided against it. Ranma liked to sleep when he could. * * * Ranma crawled a hundred meters through the snow to reach the next line of barbed wire. Grenades had been strung along the line, and their point man had nosed them through a mine field with his knife. A piece of wood stuck into the snow marked each mine. They made a kilometer in three hours this way. At last they were at the roots of the mountain. They had just twenty minutes to spare before the appointed time for all of the commando teams to strike. The attacks would come along the entire mountain line in the hopes of destroying all of North Korea's Rocket Forces. A desperate all out bombing attack would follow on the heels of the commando strike, and it was the unspoken consensus of the team that if the North Koreans didn't kill them, their own jets would. Hiro's words had the undeniable ring of truth. The entrance to the mountain was a wide gravel road now buried in six inches of snow. Steel beams braced up the arch of the door which was hewn from the mountain itself. Camouflage netting and the snowfall had concealed the door from unaided eyes, but now they were within spitting distance of the thing. Four guards in a bunker passed the time telling jokes. Ishikawa waited until the watch was relieved, then gave the signal. They advanced on the bunker with knives and suppressed MP-5s. Two troopers slid through the door. The four in the bunker died instantly and silently as subsonic 9mm hollowpoints went into the backs of their heads. They pressed on into the tunnel. Hard rock hewn with hammers and braced with steel made it clear why the bombers had been useless against the launch sites. They proceeded into the darkness and past another sentry. The sentry went down in a burst of suppressed fire before he could even draw breath to shout. The only sounds to be heard were the clacking of MP-5 bolts, the jingling of brass on stone, and the thump of the corpse falling face first. They began planting charges on drums of diesel fuel, along power cable runs, anything that would cause lots of collateral damage and spread confusion. The missile launch cells would be along the sides of the mountain, and they climbed higher into the heart of it to reach them. They continued on. Forty minutes slipped by in an adrenalized blur. They reached an intersection in the tunnels. "Patrol coming!" Their point man hissed. They faded into the shadows and behind the dubious cover of wooden crates stacked along the passageways. The word passed from behind set them even further on edge. "More coming up behind!" The drag man declared. Ishikawa gave hand signals to the team. They advanced at a quick trot. Ryoga followed just behind three troopers with suppressed MP-5s to give support if needed. Ranma and Hiro stuck with Ryoga to support him. The others formed a quick rearguard ambush and readied grenades. The point man and the three troopers dashed from cover too late. They almost made it to the other side of the crossroads before the North Korean patrol shouted warnings and opened fire. The six rifles barked, echoing hollowly in the stone tunnels. One of the troopers took hits across the legs and stumbled. The rest returned fire with their submachineguns. Silent 9mm rounds tore into the patrol, dropping three in the same instant as the Japanese trooper fell. From behind the team came the sounds of another firefight. Ranma and Hiro were still in cover when the shooting started. The fighting reflexes took over, and they ducked around the corner of the tunnel. Both men fired quick bursts at the surviving patrol members, cutting down two of them. The last patroller froze in confusion, having fire thrown at him from two directions. He was alive not a moment later for his troubles. A chorus of explosions went off behind them. The rearguard and Ishikawa's team came dashing up from down the tunnel. From the far end of the cross tunnel came the sounds of heavy boots and clacking weapons. Gunfire erupted around them. Chips of stone and hot scraps of metal from spent rounds sprayed around them as Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro dashed across the crossroads to join the others. Their wounded man had died in the crossfire, lying face down limbs splayed to the four corners. "Get that MG going, Hibiki!" One of the Special Forces sergeants barked. Ryoga grunted once and braved the open again. The machine-gun hammered away, spilling hot brass across the ground. Shrieks filled the air as their enemy was caught advancing in the open. Ranma and the rest popped out and joined the fusillade, using Ryoga's attack to give them the initiative. "Advance!" Ishikawa called. Ranma charged low towards the North Koreans. Ryoga carefully walked his machine-gun fire ahead of him to keep him covered. Hiro was close behind Ranma, readying a grenade. He released the spoon and held his breath. They reached a side passage the surviving North Koreans had ducked into for cover. Ranma plastered himself against the wall as Hiro lobbed the grenade around the corner. The grenade went off a second later. Black smoke and a tooth rattling _whomp_ engulfed them. "Advance!" Ishikawa ordered. He was moving up behind them. "We have to break out of here or we're dead!" He added for additional emphasis. Not that Ranma and Hiro needed much prompting on that account. The passageway could be _their_ killing field next if they didn't get away. They charged around the corner, heading steadily upwards. Alarms began to sound, as if the rest of the mountain was just beginning to awaken to the turmoil in it's belly. Ranma tried his best ignore the broken and lacerated dead at his feet. He had more important concerns, and they had little to do with conscience. They cut through another reaction force patrol. The enemy was still running around in confusion, and it was very early in the morning -when defenses are at their least prepared. They reached another intersection. Ishikawa, Zuider, and most of the others could read the Korean stencils on the walls, and knew that each tunnel would take them to a launch cell. They wouldn't have time to hit all of them in series. Ishikawa split them up into three teams. Ranma, Hiro, Ryoga, and a private named Fujita were led by Yoshida. They proceeded up a wide ramp of stone. Ishikawa took five others and headed left. Zuider took the other five and went right. They were to reach as many rocket sites as possible and plant explosives. If they were caught they were to destroy as much as they could before they died. Ranma took the point while Fujita readied explosive charges on the move. Ryoga stayed back with Yoshida, and Hiro walked drag with a suppressed pistol. They were on their own. They climbed up the ramp at least forty meters, coming into a storage area. Several forklifts were parked around piles of wooden crates. Strips of paper packing were strewn about. No one was around to bother them. The choice was to go still higher into the mountain or try one of the side tunnels. Both led to launch cells according to the signs. Yoshida opted for a side tunnel which had a rail track running through it, and they crept along past a steel door. There was strong odor coming from the tunnel. A fuel smell, like diesel. It was carried on a cold breeze. "Charges are ready," Fujita hissed to Yoshida. Ranma edged closer to another steel door. He could hear machinery noises and the sounds of several voices all talking at once. He crouched low, giving the signal to wait as he gripped his MP-5 tighter. On the other side of the door was a chamber hollowed out of the side of the mountain. Another set of steel doors opened to a long tunnel on the far side. A set of railroad tracks led from the chamber to the tunnel. The machinery noises were from a diesel engine clanking at the far side of the tunnel. Ranma couldn't see down the far side of the tunnel because of the many lights strung from the walls of the cavern. There were at least a hundred people in the cavern, half of them armed soldiers. The rest appeared to be technicians or engineers. They hastily set up defensive positions. A large crane and gantry crowned the top of the chamber. A complex run of piping and pumps was fed by two great tanks. Ranma could see many signs painted in red and yellow, and though he couldn't read a word of Korean, he was sure they said something like 'flammable'. There was something else as well. A heavy crate made of steel was sitting to one side, it's lid open. A man stood next to the crate armed with a rifle. The crate was also marked with something Ranma didn't need to read Korean to understand. It was a series of tri-bladed trefoils colored yellow and black. He ducked back and reported everything to Yoshida. There was no easy way to do this. The North Koreans were preparing to launch, and what they all feared was about to happen. "Alright, this is what we're here for," he said in a hoarse whisper. He quickly laid it out for them. "Saotome has the point. Hibiki gives cover fire. Fujita has the charges. Ohata and I will be right behind Saotome. Move." Ranma's heart was racing and every breath a drowning gasp even as he took that first step back to the door. The whole country was alerted to them by now. This was it. He knew in that moment that he had come all this way to die here. If not from a bullet, than from all of the rocket fuel, or Fujita's satchel full of plastic explosives as he brought the house down on them, or the bomber strike that was probably already airborne and inbound. He checked his MP-5. He had two magazines left plus some loose ammo he'd never have time to use. **The price for my life? That maybe, just maybe, enough of the other teams would destroy enough of the Scuds that Japan's air defenses could shoot down anything that got off the ground. After all those maybes and could-bes Japan might be spared another nuclear attack. Tokyo would be standing in the morning and Akane and all of my friends and family at home would still be alive... A bargain, as Nabiki would say.** He moved across the threshold of the door with a sudden peace that quelled all fear and doubt. His steps were light and quick as if he were strolling across a park. Yoshida and Hiro followed a step behind like guardian angels. Ryoga rolled out with the M-60 level with his chest, every belt of ammo he had left was linked together and snaked over his left bicep and to the stone floor. Fujita slipped across the threshold and sprinted with a speed and grace inhuman. The North Koreans saw them and turned in slow motion. Their voices were drawn out agony. Somewhere beyond his detached sense of consciousness Ranma's finger tensed on the trigger. Like that first time on the beach he saw every round from his weapon leap spinning from the muzzle. His hawk keen eyes tracked the paths of his fire as they reached out and touched those nearest him. There was no sound from his weapon save the clacking of the bolt. There were only the screams of pain and panic and the symphony of hot brass on cold stone. Yoshida and Hiro opened up with their rifles to either side and joined in the chorus. The whistle and whine of the bullets across the cold air was met with the staccato thunder of Ryoga's M-60. Chips of stone and bright bright blood sprayed all around them. One or both or even all three were roaring at the top of their lungs but Ranma didn't know. The North Koreans were falling all around them even as they charged into their midst. Ranma's ammo was gone and he flung the submachine-gun away carelessly. He followed through with every ounce of fighting spirit, hammering blow after blow upon them. He twisted and whirled and struck and dodged as bodies flew and bullets sang and life was stolen all around him. The chamber seemed to jump about three feet as a gigantic explosion rocked the mountain. Rock fell from the ceiling and the gantry wobbled with a tortured scream of metal. Alarms rang from everywhere at once. One of the other teams just died, that detached part of Ranma's consciousness told him. At least they got one of the launchers. He sprang back to his feet as Fujita was ripped apart in a fusillade of gunfire. The satchel full of explosives fell from his slackened grasp upon the blood slicked floor. Fujita spun once before he fell, and Ranma looked into his eyes and saw only infinite sadness there. Ryoga's storm of lead silenced those guns that had cheated Fujita of his chance for glory. Yoshida cut apart another group with his last burst of rifle fire before drawing his knife and beginning the next act of this sanguine tragedy. The curtain rose and he leapt into them with abandon. Hiro kept close to Ranma's side as he jammed magazine after magazine into his rifle. The fighting was so fast and so confusing that there was no semblance of tactics, no time for firing stances, no time for anything except shooting and praying. It was a total free for all at knife fighting range. Advantage went to the side of inertia and at that second Ranma and the others had it. They were halfway across the chamber and knee deep in Korean blood when the fire and smoke roiled up through the tunnel behind them. What was a free for all degenerated into pandemonium. Above all the sounds of gunfire and screams of the dying came the sizzle and roar of fiery fuel from behind. The far tunnel doors began to swing shut. From the corner of his eye Ranma saw Yoshida go down to his knees as they overwhelmed him. Knives and bayonets flashed in the light of the fire. His blood fountained from wounds that made Caesar's death seem humane by comparison. His last dying scream drowned in his throat. There was no time for his killers to gloat as the river of fire consumed them from the inner door. Ranma had Hiro in one hand, dragging the man forward and to the far tunnel. Ryoga was right behind them, hosing the last of his ammo at the flanks. Hiro got back to his feet, leaving Ranma free to fight unencumbered once more. His cries of "TENSHIN AMIGURIKAN!" brought them down soldier and tech alike. His kicks stole away life and breath and his eyes glowed with his fury. Ryoga was at their side then, swinging the depleted machine gun like his umbrella of old. They reached the doors just as they slammed shut. Ranma spun around to face his enemies, who were rushing to revenge themselves upon him before they were consumed in the flames. Ryoga pounded on the door with all his might as the smoke and the fumes choked at their lungs. The intense heat was alien and yet welcome after spending so long in bitter cold. Ranma took them apart wholesale as they rushed him. They piled around his feet in broken limbed agony, hands reaching up to his ankles in last desperate attempts to take him down. Hiro beat at them with his rifle, and the composite stock splintered with each strike. At their back Ryoga Hibiki channeled the last of his strength in one final gambit. He reached into the deepest pit of despair he possessed, and his voice rocked the mountain. "SHI SHI HOKODAN!!!!" The last of his strength boiled away in the final ki-blast; a sulfurous gout of hell that swelled in blistering hands and then cannon-balled through the steel doors like a tiny sun. Ranma couldn't see what had happened, but he knew anyway. He back-flipped clear of the melee and sprinted past the white hot edges of the hole. Hiro had Ryoga, and together they pulled him through. The last of their enemies were blown to smithereens as Fujita's satchel charge went up. The explosion's force was vented past the hole like a giant eductor; threatening to suck them back into the fiery maelstrom. They clawed at the rough hewn stone for purchase as a fresh blast of heat and smoke washed over them. Adrenaline kept them going as they raced down the tunnel. The entire mountain seemed ready to explode as the fires touched off fuel. At the end of the tunnel the tracked mobile Scud launcher was ready for firing. A firing officer in the cab of the vehicle pushed the launch button in desperation. The Scud-E missile roared into the predawn sky in a blinding flash of orange light. Poisonous gases boiled around the launcher because the launch site's fans had failed in the attack. Ranma cried out in despair as the missile climbed over the mountain. Heedless of the smoke and the heat, he sprinted out of the mouth of the launch site and thrust both hands into the air. As Ryoga had done, he now gathered everything he had in him for one last chance. The ground shook at his feet as his entire body trembled with desperation. The wind gathered at the heels of his scorched boots and spiraled around him in growing power. The air itself crackled with energy as if even Hiro's and Ryoga's essence were feeding it. The Scud was higher now, almost through the clouds. "HIRYU..." The wind was now a cyclone of ki-energy, all that he could muster and then some that should never have been his. "...SHOTEN..." Ranma was suspended a meter off the stone floor as the cyclone swelled. His mind was an antenna for forces within him he had never dared summon. Now more than any time in his life did he need the power he wrenched from his soul. His hands ripped at the skies as he screamed the final word. "...HAAAAA!!!!!!!!" The dragon cyclone blowtorched through his body, becoming a brilliant funnel of life force that reached into the sky. The atmosphere collapsed upon the eye of the funnel in an implosion not seen in an age. The Scud was thrown into a lazy ballistic arc as it's booster was shorn from it in a fireball. The weapon fell from the skies to land twenty kilometers to the south. Some part of the thing survived the forces that called for its destruction, for the fifty kiloton nuclear warhead obeyed it's final directive at an altitude of two thousand feet. The sun rose in the south and in the east then. There was a flash that stole the shadows from people and gave them to any flat surface that would accept them. The burst of light and hard gamma radiation bathed the entire peninsula in it's roentgen glow. The overpressure wave came next some moments later, casting aside men and machines, trees, buildings, and planes like unwanted toys. Ranma fell over the side as Hiro and Ryoga took his spent form in their arms. They landed in the boughs of pines and firs and tumbled down into a bank of snow. When the overpressure wave came for them, it was a thousand ton hydraulic press. Every ounce of air in their lungs was blasted out with the hammer blow of the concussion. The sound of the airburst was so loud that it brought stars to their eyes. In the end there was no pride, no glory of a final heroic sacrifice. There was only heat and sound and terror unimagined. When the glowing plasma fireball had reached its zenith and burned out of the sky, there was only silence in its passing. The sky was tortured ochre and hot chrome pink. Winds shuddered and died as the local weather systems were disrupted by the upheaval. Hot rain fell from the deranged December air. The mountain burned from within, sending great pillars of fire into the hellish night. Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro lay in the bottom of a muddy ditch. Chapter Five Ukyo was awake early as usual to open up shop for the breakfast crowd. It was times like this that made her wish she could afford to hire some help and sleep in for a change. **I think I'll close up for awhile after breakfast. This winter cold snap has really got me feeling run down. Hope I'm not sick.** She yawned and tossed back her long mane of straight brown hair. The floor was cold, and she decided that maybe today she wouldn't open for breakfast. She steeled herself and continued on to the bathroom. Who was she kidding? She couldn't afford an extra hand around the shop, much less miss the business the breakfast rush provided. After a hot shower she was feeling better. She went downstairs and lit the gas griddles and turned on the little television she maintained for her breakfast and lunch guests. The news was on first thing, one of those early riser programs. Top story of course was the renewed fighting in Korea. Stock footage was mixed with live via satellite as green and red streams of tracer fire ripped across blackened hill tops. Bright explosions filled the skies as jets went down in flames. Whole hillsides lit up bright as day as artillery hammered UN positions. She thought of Ranma in the middle of all that and fought back hopeless tears. Finally she switched off the television, unable to bear any more of it. The crystalline drops of sorrow hissed as they touched the hot metal of the griddle. **Why did he have to go back there?!** She railed in her mind. **What was so important that he would throw away his future for another chance to get killed?** The air raid siren sounded across Nerima. "ENOUGH!!!!!" She screamed to the ceiling. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THESE ATTACKS!!! JUST KILL US ALL IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT, BUT DO IT NOW 'CAUSE I'VE HAD ENOUGH!!!" She threw open the doors to Ucchan's and ran out into the snowy street. The hazy light of dawn was in the east. Then to the west was a great light, like any sunrise she had ever seen. She looked east and then west, and there were two suns low in the sky. The second sun in the west faded away after a few moments, leaving Ukyo with the feeling that she had been witness to something terrible. Akane couldn't sleep. The latest of a series of nightmares was still fresh in her mind. Ranma was the featured player in every one of them. In each grim tableau he was taken from her; sometimes snatched up by someone she knew like Shampoo or Kodachi, sometimes by something dark and sinister like a shadowy hand or by a dense bank of fog. Around dawn she slipped out of her futon and stepped gingerly past Yumiko. Perhaps a good jog in the cold would tire her enough to sleep and clear her mind. She reminded herself that she didn't have that final exam until that afternoon, so there was no harm in going out for awhile before she tried to sleep again. She changed into her sweats and stretched as best as she could before daring the grey morning. As she opened the door she felt a wave of vertigo. **The sun was rising in the wrong place,** she thought, catching herself on the door knob before she fell. **Every morning has the sun at my back when I go out the door.** She turned around and to the east was good old Sol rising above the early morning haze of distant downtown Tokyo. She looked over her shoulder to see the ersatz sun fade away over the horizon. Only then did her mind register the distant howl of air raid sirens... Epilogue Operation Chancellor was hailed as a major success by the military analysts of the decade. The daring multinational special warfare strikes against North Korea's warmaking and political apparatus were inarguably responsible for ending the Second Korean War in the UN's favor. Though casualties were terribly high, (in some cases 100 percent fatalities were suffered by strike teams), each team was successful for it's part of the operation. What few outside military circles realize is that the catalyst of victory was provided by the unintentional detonation of a North Korean nuclear warhead of approximately fifty kilotons nominal yield over the North Korean reserve positions north of the DMZ. This nuclear weapon detonation was believed by North Korean commanders to be a UN 'last hurrah', as they were in fact routing the broken UN forces several kilometers north of Taegu. Fearing additional nuclear strikes, they held their positions; allowing the UN forces to rally and launch a decisive counter-attack. Pyongyang in the meantime was also under the belief that the weapon was American in origin. The military Junta governing the communist state immediately ordered a retaliatory strike against South Korea, US Naval forces in the Sea of Japan, and against Japan itself. When they could not contact any of their Strategic Rocket Forces, they quickly realized that their regime had come to an end. Surrender to UN forces came by eight o'clock local time. It is not known what caused the Scud-E missile to stray off course. One popular theory holds that the weapon was launched prematurely, before the guidance system could be properly programmed. Another holds that the missile was damaged during the Operation Chancellor strikes upon it's launch site. The truth remains a closely guarded secret. In any case the outcome of the event was more important than the details behind it. After forty years the Korean peninsula was unified under democratic government, lending a peace and stability unknown in the region for nearly a century. -excerpts from "SpecWar's Final Gambit." Henry Stockard, CDR, USNR (Ret). _Naval Institute Proceedings_. Volume 122, Number 1121 U.S. Naval Institute Press. July 1996. * * * Akane walked down the stairs from her room, and proceeded to the kitchen. Kasumi and Nodoka were busy baking Christmas cookies. The sweet smell of cinnamon and ginger filled the kitchen, and made Akane feel warm and loved just standing there. "Hello Akane," Nodoka said cheerfully. "Has Ranma arrived home yet?" Akane's face clouded. "No, not yet. In fact I've called the base several times and no one has been able to find him." "That's odd," Kasumi said. "It's not like Ranma at all." Akane nodded sadly. "The last time I've even heard from him was in a letter he sent me. He said everything was fine, and that there would be no problem with his discharge. He's supposed to be home by Christmas, and it's Christmas Eve!" "Have a little faith Akane," Kasumi offered. She handed her sister a cookie. "He'll be here." "The war is over, dear." Nodoka declared. "It's been over for two weeks. There's no reason to keep him for much longer, so don't worry!" Akane smiled for them and left the kitchen. As she bit into the cookie Kasumi have given her she tried to imagine what was keeping Ranma. **He's probably stuck in a mountain of paperwork. The Military has so many men to process now that the war is over.** This last she learned while watching the news. American and South Korean troops now occupied North Korea to maintain the peace and supervise the dismantling of the war machine. Japan had withdrawn from South Korea within two days of the surrender. The Diet had declared the state of emergency suspended, and directed the JSDF to begin discharging troops. The details of the end were still classified, but rumors of commando raids against North Korean Scuds filtered even as far as Nerima. The local press was already hailing them as heroes. **He might be busy. Still, it's no excuse for not calling me or trying to get word. And that phone number for the barracks has been totally useless!** She sighed and went into the living room. Her father and Genma were enjoying a few glasses of beer and watching television. Their eternal game of shogi was on hold for the moment. The sky was sunny and clear, as it had since the day the war ended. The snow sparkled on the ground, but a few more weeks of sun and it would surely be gone. Nerima was unusually quiet for the afternoon. There was some concern that the nuclear weapon that had ended the war would spread radioactive contamination across Japan. More than a few people in the neighborhood had stayed indoors out of such fears. Thus far any of the fallout generated by the airburst had settled with the rains in North Korea. It was fitting irony that North Korea should be poisoned with it's own weapon. Her father looked up from the TV. He saw that Ranma was still absent, his face clouding for a moment with worry. He returned his attentions to the TV, determined not to allow his worries get the best of him. Akane sighed again. She didn't have much to do around the house. Her friends were away on winter vacations or at home visiting with relatives. She hadn't talked to Ukyo in weeks, which was saddening in the light of their growing friendship, a friendship born of the war and out of mutual concern for Ranma. She decided to go out and walk around. She went upstairs to get Nabiki to join her. Her older sister grabbed a jacket and boots and followed her lead. Together they crunched through the snow. "Hey sis?" Nabiki asked suddenly. "What is it?" Akane replied. "Any plans for this summer?" Akane thought a moment. "Well, not really. What do you mean?" Nabiki gave her a sly smile and a wink. "Oh I don't know. Maybe I was just hoping." "Hoping for what?" Akane asked a little perturbed. Nabiki could play such annoying head games with her. "Oh you know," Nabiki continued. "Spit it out already!" Akane cried. She was notoriously short on patience to begin with, and today her fuse was even shorter. "It's so obvious!" Nabiki taunted. "Have you kissed him yet?" "Well yeah but, _oh Nabiki!!_" Akane fumed and blushed fiercely. "Way to go little sister! I had a hunch about you two all along." Nabiki said with a bemused chuckle. "It's not funny!" Akane protested. "Your reaction is!" Akane's hand dipped low to grab a hunk of icy snow and form it into a ball. Nabiki scampered out of point blank range with a laugh. "I think it's a good thing!" She said. "You suit each other; heck, you can even wear each other's clothes!" Akane wound up and delivered. The snowball smashed against a wall behind Nabiki. "Nice heat, but you've gotta work on that control little sister, or you'll stay in the minors forever!" Akane clenched her fists and fumed. She wasn't really mad at Nabiki, but she wasn't going to tell her that. "What's the matter Akane?" Nabiki asked, in a little more serious tone. "We aren't kids anymore. It's time to take our places in this world. Don't be afraid of sharing that place with someone you love, and certainly don't feel ashamed." "I'm not ashamed!" Akane returned. "This is new for me. I'm just a little shy is all." "That's better," Nabiki insisted. "From the way you two were always hanging around each other when he came home from Korea I assume he knows how you feel about him?" Akane nodded shyly. "Then what's the problem? Have you even talked about your future together?" "I tried to a little. I asked him if he wanted to come to college with me in the fall and get away from the dojo. He told me in his last letter that he was interested." Nabiki rubbed her gloved hands together. "It's a start, I guess." Ukyo was not more than a few houses away from them. She walked with a heavy heart. Her head was cast to the dirty snow of the street. Her tears might have frozen on her face if she had any left to cry. **I know that was you Ran-chan. That light in the sky that ended the war. I know that was you.** She was headed straight for the dojo. She had waited as long as she could bear without telling Akane what she feared most. She had waited in the hopes that somehow he had survived and was coming home again. After two weeks without even a single word she knew he was gone. **I should have done this sooner... In spite of all that's been between us, you're my friend Akane. I owe you an explanation. I owe it to Ranma to tell you.** She bit back another round of sobs at the thought. She saw Akane and Nabiki and wiped at her face to try and clean it up a bit. It would be hard enough for them without having to see her like this. Akane saw her and waved. Ukyo swallowed once and offered a passable smile and wave. "Ukyo!" Akane cried happily. "We haven't spoken in so long!" "That's mostly my fault," Ukyo admitted. "Are you coming over tonight?" Nabiki asked. "It's Christmas Eve tonight, and we're expecting our resident war hero to return soon." Ukyo bit back another sob at the thought. "Um, sure. If it's no trouble." "Of course not!" Akane cried. They walked for a few houses and talked about school. Akane would pass her finals, and probably do okay on most of them. Nabiki had her grades sewn up, but that in some respects had little to do with her academic abilities. Ukyo offered them the fact that she was planning on attending college in the fall. "Oh really? We're trying to get Ranma to do the same." Nabiki returned. Ukyo stopped in her tracks. Nabiki's last was just too much. Her charade could go on no longer. She would have to tell Akane, and she would have do tell her in front of Nabiki. "Um, Akane? I need to tell you something." Akane looked at her a little confused. Ukyo's tone wasn't in the least bit comforting. "What is it?" "I received a letter from Ran-chan a couple of weeks ago," she began. "So did I," Akane added. "Well... This is about Ranma. He told me something in his letter that he didn't want you to know..." She didn't know how she was going to say this. "What is it?" Akane asked, concern cracking her voice. Ukyo drew a pattern in the snow with her boot. "I don't know how to tell you this Akane. I want to, but I can't..." Her voice trailed off into very soft weeping. What was concern darkening the lovely lines of Akane's eyes was now abject horror. "He didn't..." Akane managed. Somehow she had suspected all along. "...He didn't want you to worry about him, so he didn't tell you..." Ukyo wept. "He said it was important, or he wouldn't have done it." "No..." Akane barely breathed. "No...." "...I'm sorry...Akane I didn't say anything until now because I still had hope...But now..." "NO!" Akane cried. "I refuse to believe it!" Tears began to well at the corners of her eyes in spite of her protest. She ran off down the street. Ukyo collapsed to the snowy street, wracked with sobs. Nabiki was torn between chasing after Akane and comforting Ukyo. She stayed with Ukyo and whispered soothing words even as her own tears spilled down her face. "...He did it for us...For all of us...That light in the sky was him." Ukyo whispered. "He was a hero," Nabiki offered, silently wincing at how hollow that word sounded then. "I loved him," Ukyo cried softly. "We all loved him," Nabiki answered. Akane didn't stop running until she slipped on the ice and fell. Then the floodgates opened and she cried there in the middle of the snowy street. She didn't care who might see her. She cried silently, trying to hold it in. She still wanted to believe that Ranma was alive and well, that Ukyo was jumping to conclusions, anything that would bring him home to her. **WHY?!** She screamed in her mind. **Why would you go back there?... You can never turn your back on a fight, even if it isn't yours. Damn you!!! I should hate you for this!** She didn't know why, but she looked up from her hands to see a little black pig sitting there on the snowy pavement with her. "P-Chan!" She cried, scooping him up with both hands and crushing him in her teary embrace. She wept anew. "Oh P-Chan...You don't know how much I need this..." "Ryoga!" A voice cried. It was a little familiar, but she didn't know from where. **Ryoga?** She thought suddenly. **He could tell me what happened.** She tried to compose herself and stood. "Ryoga! Where the hell are you?" The voice cried, a little closer. Akane walked to the corner of two walls and the direction of the voice. She ran right into a man who was running around the corner. Both were knocked to the ground. "Oh jeez! I'm sorry!" The man pleaded. "I didn't know you were there." Akane looked at him sitting there across from her. He wore the dress uniform of the JGSDF, bearing the rank of private. The name "Ohata" was stitched across his right breast. "Hiro?" Akane cried in shock. "Akane?" Hiro cried in return. Ranma Saotome skidded to a stop then behind Hiro. His dress uniform gleamed in the reflected light of the snow. He was alive and whole. He had the most unusual tan for the middle of winter, but he was the most beautiful sight Akane had ever seen. Hiro noticed P-Chan sitting in Akane's lap. The poor pig had taken the brunt of the impact and was a little dazed. "Ah, Ry---" He didn't get a chance to finish because Ranma clamped one hand over Hiro's mouth even as he helped Akane to her feet with the other. Akane threw her arms around him and held him with all her might. Ranma returned her embrace with equal vigor and affection. Hiro was sure he heard their backbones popping. Just as suddenly as she had taken him up into her embrace, she threw him off and clobbered him with a right cross hauled back from somewhere in the vicinity of Mars. "YOU BASTARD!!!" She screamed. Ranma spun around like a top before falling over onto the ground. His face was a mask frozen in utter surprise. "Huh?" He managed. "How could you go back to Korea and risk your life again?!" Akane demanded. Her body trembled with both rage and the overwhelming joy of seeing him alive and well. "Huh?" He tried again. He looked to Hiro for a clue as to what was going on. Hiro looked at the two. "Don't look at me man, I'm just as confused as you are." Akane threw Hiro into the air to land across the street. She spun on her heels to face Ranma again. "This is twice that you've had me thinking I'd lost you! How dare you?!" Ranma had no idea what to tell her. She was absolutely right in some respects, but he also knew he had done the right thing. The exploding nuke had proven that beyond a shadow of doubt. Akane went on venting. "You could have at least told me what you were doing! At least some explanation why you're home without so much as a phone call or letter to me!" For _that_ he had an answer. "Jeez Akane, It's all classified. They didn't even let us go after the mission debrief. We've been sequestered for almost two weeks now." This softened her a little bit. "I wanted to tell you," Ranma said, realizing that she was at least listening to him. "I really wanted to, but this was supposed to be a secret. I also didn't think you'd understand--" "What's there to understand?" Akane bellowed. "That the one man I love more than anyone had decided to go back and get himself killed without so much as a good-bye?! That he walked away from a chance at a life and ran back into a war when he'd already done his part for it?! What's there to understand? It's all so clear!" Ranma was starting to get angry. Getting belted by her was nothing new, but this was getting out of hand. It took great force of will to let it pass. "I'm sorry Akane..." He offered her. "I was wrong. I don't know if you'll ever understand, but someday I'll explain everything." He looked away. "That is, if you can forgive me." She was silent. She wanted to wring his neck and hold him in a loving embrace at the same time. Ranma wasn't sure what she was thinking by her stern and tear-streaked face. Ranma turned to go. "Just give me a chance Akane...But I'll go now if you don't want me around." She reached out and grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground with a great cry. "RANMA YOU JERK!!!" He looked up at her dumbfounded. She pounced upon him. "Do you actually believe that I would let you get out of my sight again?" She cried. "I guess not," Ranma replied. "Believe it!" She cried. She embraced him then fiercely. He returned her embrace, feeling her sob again quietly in his arms. "I love you Akane." She brushed her lips against his cheek. "I love you too, you jerk." Hiro Ohata looked on from the safety of the other side of the street. "Who would have thought love was a contact sport?" He asked himself. "What's going on?" Nabiki cried. She had Ukyo in tow. The two of them gasped at the sight. "Ranma-honey!" Ukyo cried in disbelief. The two women ran over to Ranma and Akane, who welcomed them into a group hug. Nabiki and Ukyo each kissed Ranma's cheek, and all three women were gathered up into Ranma's arms as he stood. Ukyo brushed away the dried tears from her eyes. "You have a lot of explaining to do, buster!" She teased gently. "Tell me about it," Ranma replied. They started back towards the dojo. Hiro gathered up P-Chan, who had a tiny tear in each eye as he watched Ranma and Akane walk away hand in hand. "Come on Ryoga, let's go find some hot water and get you back into your uniform. Today's the last day we'll have to wear it." He said quietly, and headed back to the puddle of water where their chase had started. **I guess you weren't kidding when you said you heard Akane crying,** Hiro thought as he looked down at the little black pig. **Too bad you didn't look where you were going.** Ex-Private Hiro Ohata walked on down the street, moving further and further from the others. He looked down at P-Chan again. "We're out of a job today, Ryoga. Now what the hell are we gonna do?" P-Chan grunted something. "I guess you're right. Maybe I should put my professional race car driver ideas away for awhile and go to college." THE END (Honest!) That wraps it up for Ranma and the Second Korean War. (It least it ended with a bang.) Once again the fine folks at Fission Park hoped you enjoyed the story. Based on the fact that you're still here reading, this just might be true. Drop me a line if you would please, and tell me what you think. Mayhap I'll find the motivation (And the time) to tell another story. If I do, it will be funny, I promise. It's all up to the Dark Gods. (And whenever the damned ORSE is over and done.) Notes: 1) It's a little longer than the first one, tipping the scales at about 23000 words. But that's okay, I happen to think you're worth the effort. 2) The Patriot missile isn't quite as good as it's cracked up to be. It usually took an average of four Patriots to destroy a Scud missile during the Gulf War. This was due to it's small warhead. The Patriot had no problem getting to the target, it just didn't carry a big enough blast to do the job. An improved model is supposed to be in the works. 3) I couldn't tell you how Japanese soldiers live. My depictions of barracks life are in every way, shape, and form based upon my own experiences. So is my depiction of the transient duties Ranma, Ryoga, and Hiro carry out. 4) The method used to insert the Japanese Operation Chancellor team is actually used. It hearkens back to the days of the commando raids in W.W.II which were conducted by the diesel boats of that era. (DBF!) I've seen it through the periscope camera, and it's not a pretty sight. 5) I know I'm portraying Ukyo a little on the weepy side, but she always struck me as a very tragic character from the beginning. I admire her ability to keep her chin up through it all. 6) Who knows, we may not have seen the last of Hiro Ohata. Free The Nukes!