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Anime/Manga Fan Fiction >> Ranma >> A Duet of Pigtales: Age of the Black Blade

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Meanwhile....: Part 8
By Rob Barba

 

A ~*~ D U E T ~*~ O F ~*~ P I G T A I L S ~*~ 8:
M E A N W H I L E . . . .

Enemies are coming...

The Vanden Plaz strike group walked out of the train station, headed towards
their goal. The Germans, for the most part, tried to hide the looks of
disgust from their faces; inferiors though these people might be, they were
allies, and it was not their fault that the war had gone sour for them--it
was something that the Vanden Plaz would rectify in the end, after all.
Estima, taking the time last night to rob a couple of would-be bandits down
in Daigasu Park, had dressed them in more modern clothing. Now, she looked
like a young lady about town, while Dacia, Cupra and Astra all had more
modern, genteel looks about them. Sharan, however, chose to stay with his
robes, stating that it made him look like a priest and would aid them in
their disguises.

At the moment, the kunoichi was trying to gain her bearings in the
much-redesigned Nerima-ku; much to her chagrin, things had changed much
since her prior times in the ward. The differences were myriad, and if it
were not for the signs, she would have never known that she was in the place
that she would most likely call home in this world.

"Well, now that you've had enough time to reminisce about your school days,
girl, could we get back to our mission?" Dacia snarled, looking somewhat out
of place in his suit. "What is taking you so long to find our target,
Estima?"

"It has been a long time since I've been home, you idiot," she seethed, her
hand going by instinct to where she usually kept her wakazashi. "I will
sort it out, soon enough, and when I do--ah, that looks familiar." Estima
matched up one of the pictures in her hands with the Matsuda house, half a
kilometer from the dojo.

Sharan closed his eyes, sensing some sort of ambient force coming through
the pictures. There was something all around them, something that tied the
pictures into the weave of life, and would allow them to find.... "The
children. You are correct, Estima. They are in that direction. I can
sense it."

"Then we get them," Astra replied in his brutish, uncultured voice. Though
he was the pride of Aryan dreams insofar as looks, his mind was a thuggish,
simpleton's one.

"No," Estima replied. "We scout, first. Nerima as I remember it was always
a peaceful and quiet ward, and the local constabulary was always quick to
respond to the first sign of trouble. The children should be in school at
the moment, and not likely to go anywhere. If we were to react in so brash
a manner, we would have the police on our tails, and we might not be able to
react in time." Turning to Sharan, she looked at him for confirmation.

"You're quite correct--the spell would take quite some time to set up here,
since magic is far weaker on Earth," he concurred. "Besides, because it is
weaker, I would need a power source to draw from, and the nearest one we
passed along the way. About the only thing I can do is sense ambient
sources right now, and I sense unfamiliar, unusual force in small
amounts--those must be the Pillar's children."

Estima nodded. "The place you're referring to must be Kamakura--it has
always been a sacred place. That will be good to know, once we ferment our
escape plans. In the interim, we identify the children, and identify any
possible security and protection setups--the Pillar wouldn't leave her
children unguarded, if she had any sense. If we stick to our goals, no one
will ever know that we were there, and we'll have the information that we
need. In the meantime, Sharan, I want you to use your sensing skills to
find the home where they dwell." Checking her purse to see that her weapons
were firmly in place, and the rest to see that theirs were at hand, the
group went off, continuing their tragic mission.

Old adversaries are coming...

In the private gym of the New Otani Nerima hotel, Keiei completed her kata.
Her targets, all thick iron dummies, were reduced to slagged and hacked
metal, courtesy of her ki attacks and her epic use of the black katana at
her hands. She'd learned so many techniques over the years, so many
talents, that she was sure that she was likely the best woman martial artist
in the world. She was also sure, that in the past seven years, that Ranma
had gotten much better. He'd had to, if only to keep that wicked, wicked
husband stealer Saotome Nabiki from him; Keiei was sure that her beloved
Ranma and their child were suffering. She'd been gone too long, but it was
a necessary evil, one that she had to do in order to protect the ones she
loved most.

Of course, there were other rewards besides familial love. For example, to
win Ranma back, she would have to defeat Shidou Hikaru's sword skills, Tendo
Ranko's fighting skills, and every bit of treachery that Nabiki would throw
at her. But though the three of them were cunning, Keiei was even more
cunning, and that would be the key to her long-awaited victory.

Slipping into the familiar black clothing that she used to fight, she spent
time in meditation, focusing on her power. These were new koans and yogas
that she'd been taught, these learned during her last seven years of
training, and the majority of these under the master that she'd served for
the past five. As she drew and channeled her power, her indigo aura seemed
to throb with unnatural strength, as though it was carrying the power of a
million dark suns.

And even allies are unknown quantities...

"Man, this sucks." Martin, sitting on a roof across the street from the
house he was watching, was bored out of his skull. He had no idea how he
got talked into this shit. One minute, Michael had come here to kill
someone. The next, Donovan had assigned Martin to protect the people who
lived in the house owned by the person that Michael was going to kill, but
had decided not to. Now, this was his only job, and had been for the past
week.

What was he guarding against? The Yakuza? Some Chinese or North Korean
spies? Godzilla? In a neighborhood like this one seemed to be, it wouldn't
be surprising if all of them showed up at the same time. Yawning from the
relative stretch of boredom, he decided to hop down to a nearby vending
machine and get a couple of cans of coffee. He was going to need something
to keep him awake from the monotony, and the little cans of brown joy would
do the trick just now.

It's not like anything can go wrong, can it?

Kasumi, for the first time in her life, whimpered in total, unabated fear.
There was nothing and no one to save her, and she would never see her loved
ones again. She'd failed her brother. It was this last thought that went
though her mind as the stress overtook her and she fell against the ground,
fainting.

Or will it?

an incredible torrent of orange force erupted from the star attack, blasting
trees, water, ninja, and Nazi alike, sweeping them downstream in an
incredible wave of purifying destruction that would fling them for several
kilometers.

Duet 8 - The world will never be the same.
April 2000



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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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