Ranma, Tenchi Muyo 1. Chapter 1

Ocean of Eternity 

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and Viz Entertainment. Any other series used in this work of fanfiction are property of their mutual creators as well.

Author's Notes: Kudos to MercForHire off of the Delphi forums, who's detailed C&C helped me a great deal :D Since it's so rare in that place, I thought I'd give him his proper dues :D

Also, some people expressed confusion about the timeline of this chapter. I'll tell you now that it's written from a future perspective, so some events and knowledge that Ranma does not have as a child will be inferred. Oh, and this is an AU, so you'll see some differences.

Chapter 1 - Invasion

'Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it.' You've all heard that expression, I'm sure. Probably a little tale to go with the tragedy one particular wish brought, right? Well, here's a tale of one wish and what it brought to my world. 

Years before I was born, the Americans made a three-part wish. To find life outside of our own world, to teach it about us, and to have contact with it. Deep space probes, sent out by their space program, were sent out into the far reaches of the galaxy and beyond. The probes contained within large quantities of data on the human race. I was only thirteen, when humanity learned that the Americans' wish was granted. All three parts of it. 

Discovery. 

Education.

Contact.  
  
I should start by explaining who I am, I suppose. My name is Ranma Saotome, and I'm the last free Human Being in the universe.

Sounds kinda egotistical, doesn't it? I wish it were. To explain why I'm the last, I'll tell you more about the Slavers. It's a fitting title for them, I can tell ya. I don't know what they're called really, even after the year and a half since these events took place, so I'll just call them that until I find out the truth.

Me an' the old man had been on the training trip for about eight years or so at that point. Pops taking me to martial arts masters all over the place and getting them to teach me, as well as teaching me our own style of martial arts: The Musubetsu Kakuto Ryu. 

I know he would insult me a lot, but when we weren't training, which I can admit wasn't often, he'd tell me how proud he was of me an' stuff like that. I never really liked the sappy stuff, but it made me feel warm to know that I was doing good. Better then I thought actually, 'cause by the time I was thirteen he'd run out of things to teach me. Even taught me the Forbidden techniques of our school, which I managed to learn a few weeks before the Invasion of Terra.

We'd gone to China to train at all the different training grounds that were there, having exhausted the ones in Japan and America, much to Pop's irritation. In those days he complained about his wallet more times than he did his stomach, which is sayin' something, considering that this is by dad we're talking about.

Everyplace we went I heard two things: 'Prodigy' and of course the usual, 'oh God not them again.' I'd learnt so much by this point that we were going anywhere and everywhere just to find something to teach me. Of course, that did boost my ego a bit but hey, who wouldn't be affected? I already knew that there was something about me that was special: I could remember practically anything I'd ever seen. I oculd even remember the face of my mother, and I thought about her often, hoping that we would return home soon to see her. It never happened though, not that I'm surprised, of course. 

I'm changing the subject again, I suppose. Best get back to it.

I was thirteen when they came, billions of spacecraft pouring down from the sky like a gigantic plague of locust on the horizon. We didn't hear about the invasion until a week after it had begun, being in the rural parts of China, and at that point it was in full swing. By then nearly three quarters of the world had already been enslaved. Some parts of South America, central Africa and rural China were all that were left of human civilization.

We were due to go to the last training ground on the old man's list when we caught wind of the rumours of a global crisis. We were given a morbid confirmation of those same rumours when a black cloud descended from the sky on the horizon and headed toward the last city in the surrounding countryside.

My stomach dropping like lead in water, I turned to my parent.

"What do we do now, Pop?" I asked, too numb with surprise to think of anything smarter to say. He looked at the guide book he held in his hand then, flipping through the pages to the last one and reading carefully. He could be really stupid sometimes, but occasionally he had his good moments. Working out that learning to speak and read Chinese would be a good idea was one of 'em.

He looked up at me for a few moments, an uncertain look on his face, before he seemed to come to an internal decision.

"We go to Jusenkyo, Ranma." He answered evenly.

And so we left, trekking as fast as we could make our selves move toward our destination. Eating little and sleeping less, we arrived at the valley tired, irritable and sore after two days. But we were alive, and that was something to give thanks for.  
Throughout the trek, Pops explained to me in more detail the rumours he had heard. No one knew why they were here. They took people prisoner, even going so far as to _stop_ suicides before they could occurr. They had killed no one as of yet.

It was confusing, and made me wonder what on earth was going on. I didn't really have any time to ponder that question much though, as I was usually busy forcing my tired legs to move at a faster pace. 

Now that we had arrived, Pops took out the guidebook and made an all encompassing gesture.

"These springs are cursed, Boy. ANyone who falls in them will turn into whatever drowned last in that pool. Or that's what the books says, anyway."

"And you brought us here why?" I asked sarcastically as I eyed the springs with trepidation.

"Ranma," Pops addressed me seriously, quickly capturing my full interest. It wasn't often he sounded so serious, and usually it meant he had something serious or profound to say. "When you cannot fight, no matter how much you want to, you must run. Run and think of a way to fight back, think of a way to win. And when you have it, come back and kick their ass." It was...certainly different from any ther advice he had given me, and I stared at him for several minutes in non-comprehension.

"Huh?" I remember adding. Looking impatient, my father elaborated for me.

"If they have captured the world as the rumours say, do you think either of us stands a chance against them right now? I'm not that stupid, Boy. I know we can't. That's why I brought us here, to the Cursed Springs. If what they say is true, and the aliens are taking humans and nothing else, then if we get ourselves cursed with an animal form we can escape notice! Do you understand?" I nodded, though the idea was unsavoury to me at best, but I could see the wisdom (rare as it was) that lay in his words.   
"Good. Come on, Boy, we have to choose our forms." Thankfully, each spring had a signpost next to it that told us what it was. We both stayed **well** away from the spring of drowned girl, and desperately ran away from this weird spring that was, apparently, a mix of lots of different curses. It took a while, but Pop finally found one he thought he could live with: Spring of Drowned Panda. Before I could make a snide comment however, my foot slipped and I plunged head-first straight into the spring to my left. 

I felt my body go momentarily numb before I felt a _shrinking_ sensation that left me swimming in my clothes and struggling to stay afloat. After the sensation passed, I wormed my way out of my clothes and onto the slippery bank of the spring, where I lay in an undignified heap, panting to get my breath back.

"Well, Boy. You do make a _fine_ fox, I must say...if a bit scrawny," my father added with a smirk. Not thinking particularly clearly, I lunged forward and latched my sharp fox-cub teeth on my father's big toe. I was impressed by how high he was able to jump from a standing start, even though he had gone higher in the past, before arching back down and landing smack-bang in the middle of the drowned panda spring. I imagine to this day that he was quite put out by his abrupt and graceless transformation. It is a source of endless amusement for me.

It took us an hour to locate the guide to the springs, as he was out camping with his young daughter at the time of our arrival. After finding out the mechanics of our curses, reversal with hot water and so on, we gave him urgent warning of the coming danger. He looked at us as if we were mad and obviously said he would take a dip in the springs to appease us before we did anything drastic. We got directions to the next nearest town, and set out in the right direction.

Apparently, the guide forgot to inform us that the village was one of Amazons, or warrior women, as when we got there and tried to warn them of the danger knocking on their door, we were promptly chased out of the village under threat of execution. They don't take 'mere males' telling them what to do very well, apparently. I was tempted to tell them just _where _they could stuff it, but Pops insisted that he could do something and went back, using the Forbidden Techniques of our school to try and make them listen by other means. 

He came back two hours later with a lot of bruises and eight locked chests in his storage pocket. 

It turned out they ignored us and were holding a tournament of some sort, celebrating three thousand years of amazon tradition and strength. Of course Father, being the _honourable_ person he was, decided that if they were going to get themselves enslaved, he certainly was not going to let them loose all that martial arts knowledge. So he stole it from right under their noses, only getting caught on the outside of the village when the daft sod dropped a chest on his foot.

He still managed to get away though, although he would not tell me how.

A day later, trekking up the highest side of the valley in our cursed forms, They came. By then I'd begun calling them the Slavers, since that was apparently exactly what they did. I hated the idea with a vengeance, as I knew I would not get to see my mother again. Japan had already fallen.  
I had called them a plague of locust before, but the irony of the statement was felt when they swarmed into the valley in their small and maneuverable ships, for they looked like giant insects.   
They swept through the valley, their ships firing off little beams each time they encountered a patrol or hunting party, sending their victims to the gods know where until they got to the Amazon village. 

It was impressive what some of the Elders could do, really. Dried up monkeys that they were, they produced some damn impressive chi blasts, even managing to destroy several of the ships in the process.   
They were the first casualties of the war, as far as I know.  
The Slavers probably disliked their appearance and ages, or maybe they wanted to make an example of them, I don't know. It doesn't really matter, I think. One little ray each and they were gone. Vaporised just like that, in the blink of an eye.

The Slavers spread out across the valley and the surrounding area, scouring it for any sign of human life for whatever purposes they intended.  
They found the Musk first, the heavily fortified citadel tucked away in one of the nearby mountains. There wasn't much struggle, aside from one guy who I counted managed to destroy forty of the Slaver ships before being paralysed and zapped away. A pity really, he looked kinda cool, even if he was kinda old.*

Next they found the phoenix, and it was the most awesome battle I had ever seen in my short life. The Phoenix King rose above his mountain magestically to protect his people, and I could _feel_ his nobility from where I crouched nervously in my cursed form.   
He swatted the Slavers out of the sky as if they were mere nuisances, destroying what must have been hundreds before I lost count in my excitement. I'd heard the whispers that parents told their children in the surrounding areas, the legends of the Phoenix. I never dreamed that they were true until that day, but I was certainly glad of it. 

I nearly rejoiced then, thinking that this great creature would finally rebuff our attackers, but it was not to be. From the sky a great ship descended, blocking out nearly all the light from the sun, and within a few moments it was over. A single shot at the Phoenix King and his eternal imprisonment began, trapped in a giant egg of metal that I later learned was the outer shell of a living reactor.  
The ship rose into the clouds again, taking the Phoenix King with it to parts unknown. I later found out that he was to be used to power the orbital ring that was to be constructed after the enslavement of the earth was complete.

His people were stunned and captured. just like the other peoples of the earth, though if it were possible I would say that the Slavers were much more gentle then they were with the human populace I had seen them 'aquire.'

I hate that word now. It only reminds me of those disgustng creatures that enslaved my world. 

We left quickly, unable to bear the depressing sight of the Slaver swarm, and it would be a week at least before we encountered the Slavers again.

This time though, they were looking for something other than humans.

Specimens.

I was nosing about in some bushes looking for food when they found my father, and I can guess why they took him as well. Three times larger than the average panda, all of his considerable bulk made of muscle. The intelligence of a human being...well...it was obvious he was something to collect, so they shot him and dragged him away.

My suspicions that they were some kind of insect were confirmed when I saw them, as each had sex arms and four legs that they used to walk upright upon.

I know there was nothing I could have done, but it still galls me that I stood there, frozen in the bushes as they took him away from me forever, the three of them chittering to themselves behind their helmeted faces. Despite not being able to do anything to save him, the only thing I could do was relieve him of that which he had worked so hard to gain, even if it was by less than legal means.  
I must have passed out from the effort needed to store those chests in my spacial pocket, for when I woke it was night, and I was alone.   
I slunk away, my tail between my legs, to parts unknown. 

Two days later, having found a good-sized cave free of any inhabitants, I turned my thoughts to getting the chests that I bore open.   
I was always a bright boy, and I'm not tooting my own horn by saying so, since I was smart enough to work out the _real_ neko-ken technique.

Truthfully, it's still my most prized technique, since I managed to work it out by myself when I was ten years old. Not bad, really.

The locks on the chests didn't stand much chance then, opening easily with a swipe of semi-transparent claws. Only the last gave me trouble, giving me a concussion when it exploded and sent me into the cave wall. After that I decided not to open things in that manner, just in case. Whatever the case, I still had gotten the chests open, and for the next three months I stayed in that cave as a fox, hunting when I got hungry and spending the rest of my time reading. Or trying to read. The first month I spent firguring out half of the phrases in the books. They were very old.

Once that hurdle was crossed, I absorbed their history like a sponge, not really _reading_ the text, just looking at it and imprinting it onto my memory so that I could read it later.  
Sometimes I amaze myself, I can admit. 

I was thirteen and I could read ancient languages, remember everything I'd ever seen, and also could work things out far faster than anyone I'd ever met.  
Which was why I hadn't become human again. I had thought about it, but every time I wondered if they would find me. After that, always thought about how they knew where people were hiding. I'd seen it a few times, a secluded cabin forgotten by mankind but occupied by a small family suddenly empty and devoid of all life after the Slavers abruptly appeared.  
So I reasoned that they could tell where people were. 

I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of getting me, that's for sure.

I forget how long I stayed up there after that, re-reading everything and making sure I could remember every single book. There were hundreds, if not thousands of the things, stored in something similar to my storage space inside those chests, so I had a lot of reading to do, even if I could skim my eyes over the page to read it.

In the end I thought I had everything down, or at least all the relevent bits that eluded to martial arts. Aftert that I dug a huge pit and dropped all the chests into it before covering it up again. Just above it, on the wall, I carved my initials, just so I'd know where to look next time. Outside, on the rock face, I did the same.

Then I took off towards what I last knew to be civilization to find out what had happened.

Must have been over a year and a half since the entire mess started before I finally found out what happened to the human race.

We had become cattle. Penned up in vast complexes where cities had once stood. It was hardly any trouble for my slight form to slip into the air vents that had been left for air circulation and scout out what had once been Beijing.

It was a female camp, and I learned then that humanity was segregated into camps of man and woman, seperated by age, race and other factors I could not grasp.

And then I found them.

The Graves.

I'd been to school a few times, learning about the World Wars and that sort of thing. I'd seen the pictures of the dead Jews that Hitler's men slaughtered and dumped in mass graves. I thought nothing could sicken me after seeing that.

I was wrong, as the enormous graves that stretched for miles prooved to me, simple trenches dug into the earth and filled with the bodies of the dead.

I can remember clearly now, having managed to detatch myself from it, that only the bodies of the obese, diseased or elderly littered the graves. Some looked normal, of course, but I worked out that these were the 'defective' humans. People too old or too fat or diseased that the Slavers didn't want.

I snuck myself onto one of the alien transports that took me across the world to another of the camps, again filled with women. I guessed that they were Americans, giving the wide difference in appearance.

If this was what had become of humanity, what was I supposed to do?

Then I remembered what my father had said on that fateful day at Jusenkyo: 

"When you cannot fight, no matter how much you want to, you must run. Run and think of a way to fight back, think of a way to win. And when you have it, come back and kick their ass."

It was almost prophetic, in a way. It fit so well, as if my father knew that I would be faced with this decision at some point in my life. Had he been faced with something like this? Is that why he had said what he had? 

It did not matter. All that mattered was that he was right. I could do nothing back then, being...fourteen and a half I would guess, though I knew not the date. 

I was one man. Boy, even. How could I free our people like that? I knew I couldn't, so I stowed away on one of the large transport ships that perodically left the Earth, watching as it was reduced to a blue-green ball dotted with white.  
Around it I could see a gigantic metal ring, but I only found out what it was several months later: the Orbital Ring, the place where Saffron was imprisoned and used as a power source. Of course, _that_ took me even longer to find out. But it's unimportant at this time.  
All that matters is that I escaped.

Now, six years later, I sit at this terminal jotting down the history of my vendetta for future generations to see.

I just hope I succeed in freeing the Human Race. 

But then again, Ranma Saotome doesn't lose!

End Chapter 1, revision 1.

*Since this is set at a time when Ranma is thirteen, this is therefore not Herb, but rather his father. No clue what his name was, but as Herb would be around about the same age as Ranma I'm guessing he did not put up much of a fight.

Author's Notes: Before anyone asks, yes I will be showing what happened during those six years. Who he met and what occurred. I probably won't use the 1st person perspective too much, as it's quite difficult to maintain believability at a consistant rate.  
I'd like to thank MercForHire again for his welcome C&C.

He helped me make this a better fic. I hope! ^_^

Send C&C to strider_richards@hotmail.com


	2. Chapter 2

Ocean of Eternity 

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and Viz entertainment. Any other series used in this work of fanfiction is property of their mutual creators as well.

Chapter 2 - Espionage

Ranma leant away from the terminal before him and popped his neck to alleviate the stiffness of the past three hours work before sighing and plodding over to the replicator he had cobbled together and ordering himself a small pot of green tea.

Inhaling the aroma with a small smile, the teen returned to the desk and inspected the designs he had finally completed with great satisfaction.

For the past five years he had been learning and preparing himself for this day, quickly realising that in space you had to be smart to survive, especially when there were people like the K're after you. It had taken him two years before he had understood enough Galactic standard to be able to work out that The Slavers, as he had called them, were in fact called the K're. He had been correct in his first estimation as well: they were an insectoid race that thrived on the swarming and attacking policy. 

He had learned many things in the first few months in space: how to avoid the sensor nets in cargo ships, how to survive on little food, and what had attracted the K're to Terra in the first place. 

Quite simply, it was the fact that there was nothing like the human race in the entirety of the known galaxy. Sure there were the Juraians and several other humanoid races, but each and every one of them were incredibly strong in various ways. The Juraians had the power of Jurai, as well as their Tree-ships that could take any and all comers - an obvious deterrant for such a race as the K're. The Sylvans had their highly developed mental capacities, allowing them to make mental attacks from a great distance as well as possessing highly advanced technology. There were many others, all in some way compatible with the human race, yet not actually human.   
It was the cause of a lot of depression for the young human, but he managed to deal with it surprisingly well, merely reavowing to himself that he would free his people each time he found another piece of information that did not bode well.

It was a source of constant consternation to the young man that there were three classes in the galaxy. There were those like the K're who preyed upon races that had resources they could use or physical beauty, but could not defend themselves. There were those races that were too primitive to know of life beyond their planet that were given a rude awakening when the K're empire knocked on their galactic doors and destroyed all they had worked to build. And there were those who did nothing about the K're menace because they were comfortable in their safety. Or they used the K're themselves, buying that which they had stolen or shopping for more slaves. 

The last made his skin crawl. A year into his interstellar journey, he had seen the first human slaves begin to appear. They were usually female, though he had seen a male one every now and then, and each and every single one of them were docile and subservient. 

He knew it wasn't their fault, that there was nothing that they could do to escape their slavery, short of killing themselves, and in his eyes that was just giving up, but it still made his blood boil in anger that they were so accepting of the way they were treated, like animals. 

The first one he had seen had been a pretty brunette woman, he guessed about mid twenties or so, caucasian, being groped and leered at by disgusting Malkai pirates as she stood nude next to her owner. His fur had stood on end for weeks as she stood and accepted the attention, seemingly oblivious to the large bruises that were appearing all over her porceline-like skin. At length the owner - a portly disgraced Juraian noble - wised up tot he damage that was being done to his property and chased his pirate associates off. Ranma had left quickly as he seemed to wish for the woman to share his bed.

Ranma had retched for an hour when he had regained human form in the hold of an ore freighter. 

Sighing and banishing the unpleasant memories, Ranma finished drinking his tea and made his way out of the workshop and into the hangar. It had taken him a week to carve out the hard rock using the amazon breaking point technique, but it was worth it. On this barren world there was a predominance of two things: desert, and mountains. Water was almost impossible to come by unless you wanted to trek to the other side of the world, since that was where the pole was located, and as such the small concentration of ice was one of the only sources of fresh water. Even then it had to be purified unless you wanted to suffer radiation poisoning.   
That was another thing about the planet: it was right next to the star of the system: Procyon, and having little to no atmosphere, was constantly bombarded by the radiation it emmitted. 

Ranma considered himself lucky that he was well prepared for the trip there and arrived suitably protected. He had cannibalised the shuttle he had stolen to get here and used the shell to line the walls of his home from top to bottom, even constructing a small radiation meter to see if he had constructed it properly.

Currently the large hangar was occupied by his pride and joy: The Pride of Sol, so named for his home system and as being the first star-worthy fighter created by human hands. It was long and sleek, carefully stained with ultra-dense duranium alloys until it gleamed jet black, about three hundred feet long and just under a hundred wide with dual-axial dorsals and a nano-molecular warp engine capable of speeds of up to eight times the speed of light, approximately 13 warp standard. For a ship of its size, that was nearly twelve times faster than it should be capable of. 

Ranma smiled to himself as he ran his hand down the sleek hull again. That was yet another thing that space had tought him: his father would have been a tactical genius if he had been born on a warp-capable planet. The lessons that he had taught Ranma in his early years had allowed the teenage human to aquire a mass of technology and knowledge that no single race could boast - except the Sylvans, he supposed. Nearly every race he had come across he had stolen from. He could admit that he had done so, but he thought that the ends justofied the means - and that amalgamation of knowledge had combined to create the most advanced fighter in the galaxy. 

The raven haired youth chuckled at the mistrust of the various races around the galaxy. If some of them bothered to share their technology on a large scale with each other, races like the K're would be wiped out very quickly. But, he supposed, they had learned not to trust the hard way, so he supposed that the dangers outweighed the bonuses in their eyes.

His eyes tracked to the Pride of Sol again, or Pride, as he called it. Stealth capable material interwoven with the durainium alloys and boosted with hyper-spacial relays made his craft a perfect hit 'n' run fighter, though it could easily hold its own in a dog fight due to the heavy phase cannons that he had constructed after stealing the theological data of one of the professors at the Science academy. Each one of a set of four was capable of delivering a sustained payload of half the thermo-nuclear output of a star going nova for twenty seconds before cycling around to the next to cool down. Also thanks to Asguardian technology, the collant systems allowed the cannons to reach maximum overheating before cooling down in an astonishing ten seconds, meaning that at any time he would have three phase cannons online. Also added to their already impressive hitting power were dual front-mounted gauss launchers that fired depleted centrum shells that contained small pockets of antimatter that exploded on impact, creating a large-scale anitmatter explosion that would, in theory, alllow him to scythe through nearly any type of sheilding he could think of.   
The maneuverability of his craft was its highest point, in Ranma's own opinion, powered by a tri-carbine inertialess drive.

"I wonder if it's possible to marry a ship?" Ranma mused to himself in amusement before strolling over to the three inactive droids he used to assist him in constructing the Pride. Activating them quickly via the input terminal to their left, he fed the desired data into their systems and stood back to watch as the final touch on the Pride was added. 

Rapidly taking shape just either side of the Pride's cockpit reared what he had come to think of as his personal sigil. A rearing Stallion.  
As the welding lazers bleached the colour out of the hull in the pattern he desired, Ranma entered the main living area of the small complex he called his shelter and began searching for some food. Picking up a brown protein pack, Ranma grimaced and lobbed it back into the storage unit he had built.

"Yuck," he muttered and returned to the replicator in his workshop. "Okonomiyaki. Ucchan special," he ordered, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he remembered the exuberant girl he had been friends with. Quickly the smile dropped as he thought of what she would be doing currantly. Balling his fists, Ranma concentrated on the soul of ice and calmly picked up his meal. Wolfing it down hungrily, he returned to the hangar just as the droids finished adding the final touches to the Pride.

"Perfect," he muttered as they returned to their alcove as designated. "Good job guys," he added as an afterthought before entering the living area again. Quickly he made his way around and placed intems and equipment into energy conservation mode before returning once again to the workshop and entering the walk in cupboard that held all his clothes. Carefully digging through his meagre wardrobe, the teen finally withdrew a gleaming black flightsuit, highlighted around the shoulders, forearms and chest with red. Quickly he doffed his regular scruff clothes and pulled the skin-tight suit on over his body, being careful not to activate the suits systems until he had evacuated the air via the depressurisation button. Stretching slightly, he pulled a full-length mirror out of 'null-space' as he had dubbed it and glanced at himself. 

Due to his constant work and labour, the suit rippled with condensed power as his muscles flexed and stretched, drawing a pleased smile from his face at the intimidating picture he would present when he finally made his move. Idly he scratched at the intricate tattoo that ran up the left side of his face from beneath the suit, being part of a much larger design that he himself had come up with and which ran down his chest to his stomach and all the way down to his lower back on the other side.

Soon he was ready, and stood before the Pride with a new sense of purpose and almost childish glee that he had to put effort into the soul of ice just to keep from cracking a smile.

"Let's rock," he muttered, and clambered up into the cockpit of the fighter.

--------------------------------

The K're slaver clicked his mandibles eagerly as he prepared to announce the next item for bidding. The evening had been going well, the humans pulling in a great deal more bids than he expected, and consequently upping the bidding by a great deal. The insectoid's multi-faceted eyes glinted as he inspected the merchandise for a third time. 

[Hmm...] he murmured to himself, [three females..yess...I think a set should go down well... Ct'rak! Chain them together and bring them out when I announce them!] He ordered before whirling around and entering the arena to address the crowd.

[Yes, Master,] the Karaeid servant murmured, his snout wrinkling slightly at the stench of fear from the three slaves. [Move!] He barked, his tusks making his glowering appearance and great height highly intimidating. The tallest - and by that Ct'rak guessed the oldest - squeaked as the smell of fear intensified exponentially before nearly sprinting for the entrance to the arena in her haste to follow orders. The other two, hampered by their bonds and the almost frantic pace of their companion, staggered along behind her and nearly crashed into her suddenly motionless body as the hulking servant uncoiled the neuro-whip before her quivering body.

[Wait.] He growled, knowing that humans were incapable of understanding complex Galactic standard. Usually they were able to understand command phrases such as 'wait' or 'move,' but nothing else.  
Ct'rak grunted as he heard his master announce the merchandise and quickly motioned for the three females to go through the door, cracking his whip at their heels to add emphasis to the command. 

[Ah! Ladies and Gentlemen! Here they are! A set of three mature human females! Would anyone care to start the bidding at...One million Galactic Standard?]

As he suspected, the bidding skyrocketed immediately, making his mandibles click excitedly at the prospect of so much profit, and therefore praise from his superior. His excitement was immediately dampened however, when an enormous explosion rocked the arena and the surrounding areas and a large section of the arena's walls collapsed, killing several hundred of the bidders instantly and injuring nearly double that number. From behind the dust and electical discharge, a streamlined fighter slid into the stadium, it's sides gleaming black in the artificial light and effectively silencing the budding panic that had afflicted the stadium. 

[_My name,_] the fighter's audio outputs thundered, [_is Ranma Saotome. And this...is my **revenge!**_] At this pronouncement the fighter swung about in a complete circle, it's weapons firing simultaneously and obliterating the high walls of the stadium and their occupants. During all of this, the K're slaver had attempted to escape, only to be face with a figure in a gleaming red and black jumpsuit. It was with a large degree of shock to the slaver however, that his opponent was human.

[And where do you think you're going?] The young man asked, a sinister smile forming on his lips. Reeling from the second shock of a _human_ knowing Galactic Standard, the K're slaver hardly had time to feel anything before the teen's gloved fist swept up and eviscerated him from stomach to head.   
Ranma felt a viscious smile grow on his lips as the two halves of the K're toppled to either side with a moist squelching sound. 

Hearing a furious bellow coming from behind, Ranma turned around and nearly fell over laughing at the sight of a fourteen foot upright pig charging his position. Feeling a chilling laugh bubble past his lips, Ranma disappeared from the monster's sight, appearing behind it almost instantly and burying his arms to the elbows in the creatures back over eight hundred times. Ct'rak squealed in agony before his chest exploded outwards in a grotesque display of body fluids as he collapsed, dead at Ranma's feet.

Ranma, his arms completely untouched by any bodily fluids, turned to the three girls that were huddled, naked and terrified, in the centre of the podium. Pausing when after taking a step forward they huddled closer to each other, he put up his hands.

"It's ok," he soothed. "I'm here to rescue you. To take you away from all of this." His words had immediate results as they sprang to their feet and stared at him in what appeared to be shock, completely unconcerned about their nakedness.

The eldest took a tentative step forward.

"Y...y-you're...h-h-human?" She rasped, her voice scratchy from disuse. Ranma gave her a warm smile and nodded, greatful for a topic to distract him from their appearances - perfectly groomed and gleaming from head to toe. He wa unprepared however, for the trio to rush forward and embrace him tightly, all three sobbing and thanking him over and over between excstatic cries and hiccups of nervousness.

Eventually he managed to calm them down enough that they would listen to him and told them to wait where they stood while he searched for the key codes to their cuffs. He found them quickly, on the body of the dead K're slaver, and returned to open the cuffs. As soon as he did so however, the miniature datapad on his suit's wrist beeped to alert him of new information from the Pride's tac net.

"Shit," he muttered, "took longer than I thought I would." Quickly he glanced at the trio of women before entering a short sequence of numbers into the pad. Immediately, the Pride descended, rotating so that the central bay doors opened directly onto the podium.  
"Inside, quickly!" He ordered, and immediately they jumped to obey. "Are there any others left?" Ranma queried after a moment. The middle girl shook her head.

"N-no," she stuttered. "A-all gone. Sold." Cursing to himself, Ranma pointed them over to several secure bays where they could sit during the evacuation.

"Stay here, I'm gonna get you out of here, alright?" Seeing all three nod, he keyed the doors closed and made a standing jump straight behind the cockpit.  
Slipping inside and allowing the cockpit to close and descend to the bridge, Ranma keyed the ignition sequence and smiled grimly as the Pride's advanced sensors fed him data on his opposition.  
"You're so out of your league," he whispered as the Pride rose into the night sky of Athkatla IV and bringing him into visual range of his enemy. Nearly eighty galaxy class cruisers, peppered with several dozen Spear class destroyers.  
Only one sentence came to mind when he saw his opponents. 

"Oh I'm **_so_** scared," he muttered sarcastically. His ears twitched as he registered the sound of bare feet whispering across the metal grating of the bridge. And when he turned around the last thing he expected to findwere a pair of well-shaped breasts mere inches from his face.

"ACK!"

Several moments later, and three chastised looking females wearing loose shirts, found Ranma glaring furiously at the opposing ships, a scarlet blush staining his cheeks.

"Stupid girls," he muttered to himself. "Nodoka!" He called, activating the Pride's onboard AI.

"Yes, Ranma-kun?" The synthesised femenine voice responded immediately, prompting the trio of girls behind him to jump slightly at the noise.

"Lock onto the highest threat levels first, cycle through evasive patterns eight and four and... try not to scrape your paint?"

"Of course, Ranma-kun," Nodoka responded, sounding amused despite the synth tones of her voice.   
Nodding to himself, Ranma gestured to the available seats he had built into the bridge in case he ever had need of extra personell.

"So," he asked casually, ignoring the rapidly approaching flotilla of ships. "I don't think I've got your names yet. Mine's Ranma. Ranma Saotome." The eldest of the three sat up slightly, eyeing his muscled chest shyly and casting the occasional glance up to his face.

"I-I'm Kasumi...Tendo Kasumi." She answered before a horrendous blush coloured her face and she stared at her hands. The second girl made no secret of looking him over, but looked away when she came to his eyes.

"T-Tendo Nabiki," she stuttered, looking flustered. Turning his eyes to the third of the trio, Ranma found his gaze returned innocently.

"Tendo Akane," the youngest responded, giving him a friendly smile. 

Feeling a warmth spreading through is body after their introductions, Ranma successfully captured their eyes again before giving them a warm smile that made the older two blush and look away and the youngest dimple her cheeks at him.

"Well then," he stated loudly as he placed his hands upon the Pride of Sol's controls. "Let's get you to safety, hmm? Nodoka, engage manual controls!"

"Manual controls engaged, Ranma-kun, please don't scratch my paint?" Ranma smirked at the running joke, remembering when he had miscalculated the thrust on the drive and crashed the Pride nose-first into the side of a mountain.

"I'd never do such a thing!" He pleaded as he span the pride about, the phase cannons shredding throuh the cruiser armour of the surrounding ships as if it were nothing. "Let's kick some ass!"

Some ten minutes later, the Pride of Sol streaked out of the atmosphere of Athkatla IV like a black comet, bound for the outer-rim of the milky way.

End Chapter 2.

Author's Notes: This chapter will soon be undergoing rewrite, so stay tuned for an update!! :)


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