He gulped for air involuntarily, from the sudden shock of finding himself inside a different body – a non-human one that is – as a thin layer of brownish fur covered his epidermis. A faint breeze blew down the corridor, slightly tickling him, as it blew across his fur. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Ranma squinted his eyes, trying to focus, before remembering that he had been on some sort of training trip with his pops, for ten cycles now – his alternate’s life pretty much paralleling his own, as pops and him traveled along the outer reaches of the frontier, in a quest to make him the greatest Ctarl-Ctarl warrior that ever was or would be. Which brought him to his current predicament, where he found himself aboard some crazy ship owned by some mad scientist – who specialized in genetic enhancements, among other things – by the name of “Wash Shoe”, or so his pops had said – not that he believed any of it.
Carefully stepping over one of the hundreds of destroyed spherical blasteroids – the remains still smoldering beneath his foot, likely to be booby-trapped to remove an extremity – he had to admit that the security system of this place certainly made it a more worthwhile training ground than Jusenkyo had been. Currently, Washu and her assistant – a nobody by the name of Kagato – were off to some lecture at the academy, on route by shuttle, not too concerned about anyone making it past the security system – Soja having the most advanced system in the galaxy guarding her. None of which seemed to be slowing father and son down any, as they casually wrecked the place, causing trillions of Mewlons worth of damages, under the guise of training.
“So pops, whatcha planning on stealin’, anyway?” Ranma queried, curious, as a bit of apprehension dawned upon him, despite the fact that he was distracted by his father’s altered appearance, fighting off the growing conviction that it was just plain wrong. It wasn’t that his father was Ctarl-Ctarl now, which – since he had taken over this new body – felt more normal to him than a human would; no, it was the fact that the scoundrel wasn’t bald nor had need for glasses, thanks to their species superior genetic makeup. Worst yet, thanks to the Ctarl-Ctarl metabolism, his pops wasn’t overweight either. Where was the bad karma the old man oh-so-deserved? Where was the justice? Still, if this catman was anything like the bastard he knew his old man to be – love him as he may – then they weren’t solely here for the training; that jerk was up to something.
“Shhh. Keep quiet. You’re making too much noise, Ranma. As for the question, sub-deck seven, there’s a– What?! Why– Why, I’m ashamed of you, boy. You wound me greatly. Why, it makes a grown man cry, seeing his only son have so little faith in him. Did I not raise you on my own? Sacrificing all I have, making you a man? Of course, we’re here strictly for the training. Got that boy?” Genma chided, as he walked up to the corner, before peeking around, hoping not to receive a plasma blast to the face, as he made sure their path was clear. “Security seems to be inoperative in this section. Quickly, lets go,” he ordered, making the turn.
“Ah, why don’tcha cut tha crap, old man. There’s no need to lie, not to me. I know you, and ain’t gonna fall for one of yer cockamamie stories. So ya best just fess up, right here and now, before we start ah fisticuffs…” Ranma threatened, keeping next to his father – the both of them instinctually avoiding the various pressure plates that littered the corridor. Sticking to him, they passed through an opened blast door, unknowingly setting off a motion detector, which caused the door behind them to seal quickly shut, as did the one in front, when they were midway between the pair.
“…Great, whatever it is you’re after better sure damn well be worth it, old man,” he groaned out, as water swiftly started flooding into the enclosure, saturating the walls around them in the tubular corridor, soaking out through the numerous ballpoint-sized holes that spotted the walls. Looking down at the display unit on his wrist – the water now a quarter a way to his knee – he sighed, before shifting his sights onto his father and glaring heavily. “Signal from the Black Paw is bein’ jammed.”
His father didn’t bother to respond; there wasn’t any time to: the water was already halfway between his knee and upper hip. So deciding to take action, Genma removed a modified blaster from its holster, and angled it towards the ceiling – having used it many a times before for escape, by breaking through a deck – and fired. Surprisingly, or at least to him, the blast deflected off the surface, rapidly ricocheting uncontrollably throughout the insides of the confined area. “Po– Polarized walls?”
“Aaaah!” Ranma let out involuntarily, barely diving for cover in time, the blast zipping over his head, as he splashed down into the icy water, hearing it deflect off the blast door. Now it was heading back towards Genma, who – not being able to think of something else to do, quick enough – decided to throw the blaster, No-chan – so named after the boy’s dearly ‘departed’ mother – at the incoming blast, stopping it cold with a light explosion as the two made contact – water now flowing up to his breast.
‘No– No-chan…’ he whispered, after witnessing the destruction of his beloved gun – his spirits now low, him briefly wondering, ‘why couldn’t it have been the boy, instead?’ Not that he didn’t love the boy, but a man loved his blaster first, and his son second. Sighing once more, he shook himself out of his melancholy and ran towards the blast door, desperately trying to pry it open by way of paw – a futile effort even for a Ctarl-Ctarl.
“Meanwhile, Ranma was neck deep in water – his body slightly shivering from the coldness – as it moved up to his nose, causing him to float up to breath, before taking in a big one and submerging himself. ‘Hope this will work,’ he thought, as he recalled that chi wasn’t light-like, having seen it shatter through countless mirrors, in the past. ‘Well. sure beats drowning,’ he figured gloomily, at the prospect of being vaporized, if he was wrong; it, at least, being instant.
So without much ado, his eyes became serious, as he cupped his hands together, forming a chiball, before aiming it at the floor opposite him, and so releasing it. There was a slight pause, followed by a massive trembling; the shock wave sending him back, flying, with only the water stopping him from getting hurt too badly. Once things settled down, he got up – the water draining rapidly into the deck below, much faster than it had filled their compartment – and shook himself off. ‘Man, this fur stuff can damn sure be annoying.’
“Wha– What tha heck was that?” Questioned Genma, in disbelief, as he took a moment between breaths.
“Chiball. Look, I’ll explain it to ya later. Okay?…” Ranma said, before walking forward and jumping down the deck – the water flow already shutoff, after reaching its specified limit of a predefined volume. Shortly after landing, it was when Ranma realized something, as his father jumped down, after him.
“…I– I’m still ah guy! I actually got my wish. No more girl! No more Nekoken. And I didn’t even haveta shack up with that icy witch either. Ha! Wish I could see tha look on her face now. Too bad ya only get one of those. Still, score one for the good guy,” He said, jumping up into the air – his fist raised up high – before landing and deciding to skip down the passage, in a sort of slow motion, singing, “Never gonna be ah gurl, again. Never gonna be ah gurl, again.”
Genma just shook his head: something really was the matter with the boy. He needed help.
‘He’s finally lost it. … Gone bonkers he has,’ He thought, slack-jawed, before finally shaking himself out of his stupor, “Now cut that out! You’ll set something off,” he yelled, following the boy into a passageway, which had several doors aligned to the sides.
After having escaped certain death, our feline hero and his unscrupulous father decide to take a quick break – hoping to avoid security drone – in one of the rooms. The room with the door labled:
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(Posted Thu, 18 Oct 2007 23:36)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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