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                 Episode 66:  Close Calls and Phone Calls 
                 Written by:  Grayson Towler

                 MTCFF Ultra Created By:  Twoflower


The warrior strode with soft footsteps across the tiled floor 
of Tokyo General Hospital.  His injuries had finally healed 
after the brutal beating he'd endured, but his body still felt 
far too weak.  For the last several weeks, he'd had plenty of 
time to consider the consequences of not being strong enough.

"Sir?  You'll need to sign here to check out."

The warrior turned to the nurse with the clipboard.  She was a 
prim, middle-aged Japanese woman, and he didn't like the hint 
of a smirk on her face.

She pointed to the clipboard.  "Could you sign here, and print 
your name next to it?  Your FULL name, please."

Several orderlies clustered near the exit sniggered as they 
watched.  The warrior did not even spare them a contemptuous 
glare.  He took the pen and wrote one word on the dotted line:  
"Tarou."

The nurse studied the clipboard.  "Sir, I'm afraid I need you 
to..."

Pantyhose Tarou stalked out of the hospital without looking 
back.

'This is the consequence of losing,' he told himself.  He'd 
been putting up with this kind of snide treatment since they 
brought him here after his devastating fight with Krillin.  
He'd endured their snickering and little jokes, ignored the 
whispers and hushed laughter.  'They do not respect me, not 
after seeing me get my ass handed to me on international 
television by a bald idiot.  They have always hated me, but 
now they do not fear me.'

But what good would it have done him to lash out at a nurse or 
a hospital janitor?  That would only have proved that he was 
as weak as they thought.  Beating up on the defenseless was 
not going to restore the respect he'd lost.  

Tarou stood on the sidewalk in front of the hospital, arms 
crossed.  He knew he should report back to Nabiki now that he 
was healed... but he hesitated.  He'd spent a great deal of 
time considering his situation as he lay in that sterile bed, 
waiting for his fractured bones to knit.  He'd made up his 
mind about what he wanted to do, but he still wasn't quite 
sure of what he should say.  He had to tell her soon, though.

The Chinese fighter was interrupted in his thoughts by the 
sound of a large, black limousine pulling up to the curb next 
to him.  The vehicle was eerily quiet, its motion revealed 
only by the soft crunch of its tires on the asphalt.  Tarou 
peered warily as the mirrored passenger window slid 
noiselessly downwards.

The inside of the limo was almost pitch black, save for the 
purple glow of Psycho-Powered eyes.

Tarou looked away, affecting a bored expression.  He made a 
point of studying the storefronts across the street.  He 
slipped his left hand, hidden from view, into the pocket of his 
jacket and curled his fingers tightly around the flask of cold 
water within.  

"You're looking well," came M. Bison's gravelly voice from 
within the limousine.

"It's touching to know that you care," Tarou said flatly.  "Is 
this a social call, or is there something I can do for you?"

"Mmm..." Bison purred.  "Since you ask.  Yes, there is."

Tarou sighed and examined his fingernails with affected 
interest.

"I am here to offer you a position in my syndicate," M. Bison 
said.  

"Oh?  You need a bodyguard, maybe?" the martial artist 
quipped.

The Shadowlaw dictator chuckled.  "After a fashion.  I wish 
you to return to your position as Ms. Tendou's bodyguard.  
However, when I call upon you to fulfill certain... duties... 
you shall report to me."

"I see," Tarou murmured, then yawned.

"I intend to make it worth your while," the crimelord 
continued.  "Not just in terms of money, of course."

"Oh?" 

"Power," Bison said, savoring the word as it rumbled out of 
his throat.  "What happened to you was a shame, Tarou.  But 
with the power I could unlock for you, you could avenge 
yourself.  You could become a force to be respected and feared 
once again."

Tarou's lips twitched.  

Bison broke into that gravel-crushing grin which haunted the 
nightmares of all his victims.  "I see that appeals to you.  I 
had a feeling we'd understand each other.  I can provide you 
the power to achieve the things you most desire, Tarou.  You 
need only to agree to serve me."

Pantyhose Tarou made a long show of thinking this over.  He 
looked at the sky, then at the ground, then at his empty right 
hand.  In his pocket, his grip tightened further on the flask 
of water.  After much deliberation, he spoke:

"Blow it out your ass, Bison."

The grin disappeared.  Bison's eyes flared from within the 
darkness of the limousine.  "What did you say...?"

"Was there something you couldn't understand, you little tin-
pot tyrant?" Tarou asked in a curious tone.  "Something beyond 
your limited vocabulary, perhaps?  Let me distill it down to 
one word, then.  The answer is no."

Tarou could feel the presence of Bison's aura like a hot wind on 
his face.  "Nobody talks to me like that," the crimelord 
growled ominously.

"Please, feel free to come out and do something about it," 
Tarou offered in his best smug voice.  "Only I know you won't.  
You don't dare step out of that car and show your face in 
public, not here in the middle of the city."

"You think so, eh?" Bison hissed.

"I know it.  You're the single most wanted man in the world.  
You wouldn't last five minutes in the open.  Every 
crimefighter, street fighter, superhero, bounty hunter, and 
Expert of Justice within a fifty mile radius would come 
crashing down on you like a ton of bricks."

"And what," Bison growled dangerously, "makes you think it 
would take me five minutes to reduce you to a smoking crater, 
boy?"

Tarou's left hand twitched on his flask.  He kept his face 
calm and dispassionate.  "This is Tokyo," he said.  "It's a 
funny place, isn't it?"  The Chinese boy nodded towards a 
group of uniformed schoolgirls meandering along the opposite 
sidewalk.  "Even one of those silly children might pull out a 
magic wand or a lovely eyepatch in a place like this.  You 
just never know, do you?"

Bison's laughter was like the shifting of continental plates.  
"Are you really threatening me with schoolgirls, Tarou?"

"Prove me wrong," the young fighter challenged.  "Step out of 
that car and show me."

A long silence stretched between them.  The glow from Bison's 
eyes pulsed softly from within the shadows, but Tarou didn't 
look.  He didn't dare.

Finally, Bison spoke.  His voice was calm, even bemused.  
"You're rather a bright boy, Tarou.  Yet the decision you're 
making now is fantastically stupid.  I wonder... what makes a 
smart person behave so foolishly?"

"I know what I'm doing," the Chinese fighter insisted.

"Just as you knew what you were doing when you challenged that 
bald referee?" Bison prompted.  

Tarou's mask of indifference faltered, and he grit his teeth 
slightly.  "Ms. Tendou is my employer.  My loyalty is to her."

"Your loyalty... yes."  Bison chuckled again.  "And perhaps 
something more, is that the case?"

Tarou hardened his expression.  "This is my honor, nothing 
more.  You wouldn't understand."

Bison just laughed louder.  "Oh, I think I understand just 
fine.  In any case, you've given me your answer.  You've 
chosen your side.  I shall let you live today, so you may 
contemplate the depth of your folly.  Remember, when all 
around you turns to ash, that you have made your own fate."

"Are you finished?" Tarou asked in a bored voice.

Bison's responded by sliding the window closed, shutting him 
off from the world once more.  The limousine pulled away with 
its silent engine, easing into Tokyo traffic with eel-like 
grace.  Only when the vehicle disappeared around the corner 
and out of sight did Tarou allow himself to tremble.  He felt 
as if his legs could give way at any moment.

'No turning back now,' he thought, prying his fingers off the 
flask in his pocket.  'I can't afford any more delays.'  He 
mustered his resolve and hurried down the sidewalk, headed 
towards the dome which loomed against the Tokyo skyline.

Inside the black limousine, M. Bison pursed his lips 
thoughtfully.  His most valuable fighter sat across from him, 
muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

"You're really going to let him live?" Sagat asked.

Bison clicked his tongue.  "For the moment, yes.  He 
entertains me - surprisingly so.  I am keen to see how he 
intends to back up his bravado."

"He's just a fool," the kickboxer observed.

"Mmm," Bison murmured.  "There are many things which make 
young people behave even more foolishly than normal.  Honor is 
one of them.  Love," he mused, "is another."

Sagat eyed him curiously.  "You mean...?"

The dictator grinned.  "I think I shall make another call 
before the show begins," he said.  

- - - - -

Tendou Nabiki reclined in the soft leather of her new office 
chair, folding her hands behind her head.  "Okay, Jack.  Let's 
hear it."

"Right!"  Controversial Jack exclaimed.  "It's time to think 
big, Nabsy!  Time to roll the dice and play for keeps!  Time 
to get our eggs out of one basket and put them on the 
launching pad!  Time to keep the dogs barking until the cows 
come home!  Time to..."

"Time to stop mixing your metaphors and get to the point," 
Nabiki suggested.  "And don't call me 'Nabsy.'"

"No problemo, Nabarooni!" Jack chirped cheerfully.  "Ultra is 
great.  You know it, I know it.  The bee's knees, the wasp's 
elbows, the hornet's ankles - name any insect and joint you 
like, and that's Ultra.  It's the biggest success story in the 
history of sports, perhaps in the history of history itself.  
Now, it's time for us to branch out!  What if we bring that 
special Ultra magic to OTHER sports?"

"Other sports?"

"Yeah!  For instance..."  Jack turned to Lain, who was 
standing unobtrusively in the corner, and took a remote 
control from her hand.  He gestured wildly at the large 
monitor on Nabiki's wall, which flickered to life.  The screen 
displayed a bold, black logo.  "The ULB... Ultra League 
Baseball!  Crossover players from multiple dimensions and 
timelines duke it out in the big diamond!"

"Er..." Nabiki managed.

The logo faded away to a computer-generated stadium, full of 
high-polygon models of screaming fans.  The camera swooped 
around in a somewhat nausea-inducing fashion, until it finally 
settled on a figure at home plate.  Luigi the plumber wore a 
catcher's mask and danced wildly in front of the plate, 
gesturing at his glove.  "Throw it a-home!  Throw it a-home!" 
he shrieked.

In the third base coaching box, a young boy in shorts and a 
baseball cap shouted into his control watch.  "Giant Robo, 
slide home now!"

A metallic grunt thundered through the stadium as a shadow 
fell across Luigi.  The camera panned around up the base line, 
revealing a colossal red-and-grey robot ripping up the turf in 
a classic DiMaggio slide.  Luigi stared, transfixed, as the 
tank-sized foot grew larger and larger, gouging an immense 
furrow through the earth in its inexorable passage towards 
home plate.  The baseball bounced by the little plumber, 
unnoticed, as the picture faded to black.

"Jack..." Nabiki began.

"Or how about this!"  Jack continued relentlessly.  "The 
UBA... Ultra Basketball Association!  Forget those overpaid 
freaks in America... we can show them who's REALLY got game!"  

The screen flickered again, this time revealing a basketball 
stadium rendered in lovingly detailed, computer-generated 
splendor.  The Escaflowne stood on the court, hunched over 
awkwardly.  The pilot, Van Fanel, struggled desperately to get 
the large mech to dribble a basketball, which wasn't working 
very well.  Top-secret super agent Solid Snake rushed in from 
nowhere, stole the ball, popped a diazepam, and shot a three-
pointer with incredible precision.  Van brought his mech 
upright and looked around in confusion, but saw only a strange 
and inoffensive cardboard box on the court with him.  The 
screen faded once again.

"Look, Jack..." Nabiki tried again.

"Or the UGA... Ultra Golf Association!" Jack cried 
triumphantly.  "Honorable warriors from ancient times bring 
that Ultra-excitement to the classic game!"

The image on the monitor flashed to an exquisitely rendered 
golf course.  The half-demon Inu-Yasha sat in a tree, looking 
disinterested and fiddling with a ball.  Miyamoto Usagi, the 
rabbit samurai, tested a couple of different clubs for balance 
and looked rather confused.  On the tee, legendary warrior 
Himura Kenshin reared back and let fly with a drive.  The ball 
smacked into Inu-Yasha's tree and bounced back to hit the 
Batthowsai square in the forehead.  With a wavery "Oro," the 
samurai toppled backwards.

"Enough, Jack!" Nabiki cut in, grabbing the remote.

"All right, I admit it," Jack said.  "There's really no way to 
make golf exciting.  But maybe an Ultra Curling Federation..."

"No, no, and no," Nabiki said definitively.  "No new 
federations, no new sports leagues.  Period.  Final.  End of 
story."

"But Naaabiiiikiiii," Jack pleaded, "we're rolling in dough 
right now!  Ain't we?  Lain showed me the reports when she 
helped me whip up those simulations, right kid?"

Lain swallowed nervously and nodded.

Nabiki tried to look irritated, but she was feeling too 
pleased.  The beautiful image of Ultra's profit charts played 
through her head constantly, filling her dreams with golden 
visions of glory.  Jack wasn't supposed to know the figures, 
but she was kind of glad he did.  If she had her way, 
everybody in the world would know exactly how successful she 
was.  

"Yes, we're doing well," she said, trying to rein in her 
self-satisfaction.  "And I intend to keep it that way.  That 
means we aren't sinking any money into absurd new venues."

"Okay," Jack assented with a shrug.  "I hear ya, loud and 
clear.  But maybe you'd be willing to listen to Mr. Duck's 
idea."  

>Squeak!< the recently healed Mr. Duck commented, when 
prompted.

"You mind translating that for me?" Nabiki asked dryly.

"Oh, it's just a little plan for the location of the Reboot 
venue next week.  Bring Ultra to a wider audience, drum up a 
little international publicity, that sort of thing," Jack said 
nonchalantly.  

"Now that sounds more promising," Nabiki said.  "Tell me what 
you have in mind."

So Jack talked.  Nabiki listened, and kept listening.  A smile 
crept slowly across her face, and she began to nod.  

In the corner, unnoticed, Lain bit her lip nervously.

- - - - -

Nestled in the opulent darkness of his jet-black limousine, 
M. Bison cradled the phone to his ear.  It was not, of course, a 
normal cellphone, any more than the car was a normal limo.  
The phone alone violated three major strategic treaties, and 
the car was much worse.  

When you're the single most hated man in the entire world, it 
pays to take certain precautions.

"Ah," Bison said into the receiver.  "So glad I could reach 
you.  You do have a moment to spare, then?  Very good.  I have 
a proposition for you."

In the seat across from Bison, Sagat frowned and picked idly 
at the calluses on his knuckle.  

"Good.  This is a simple task, for a man of your obvious 
charm," Bison continued.  "A seduction, to be precise."  Bison 
listened, then let out a brief chuckle.  "Yes, of course it's 
a woman.  I wouldn't insult you that way, my friend.  I wish 
you to seduce Tendou Nabiki."

Sagat checked his wrist-wraps and tried not to roll his eyes.

"Is she sufficiently comely for your tastes?" Bison asked 
genially.  "Ah, superb.  After you succeed?  Well, I don't 
wish you to do anything too complicated.  Simply engage her 
attention.  Yes, that would be sufficient."

Sagat tapped his finger on the seat slowly.

"No, I don't think you'll need to do anything so... 
unpleasant," Bison assured the party on the other end of the 
line.  "Just do what comes naturally.  So we are agreed?  
Excellent.  Let us discuss the matter of your payment, 
then..."

Sagat listened to his employer talk terms for a while.  He 
flicked a speck of dust off his shoulder in irritation and 
tried to relax.  He disliked being cramped up in a vehicle, no 
matter how spacious the interior.

Bison hung up the phone, grinning.  "Well, then.  That's a 
promising iron in the fire."

Sagat grumbled.  "If you want Tendou seduced, why not use 
Vega?  Isn't that what the flouncer is best for?"

Bison waved his hand dismissively.  "Please.  I credit Tendou 
Nabiki with a shred of intelligence, at least.  If the man in 
question is one of my direct subordinates, she will be a bit 
suspicious."

"Feh," Sagat spat.  "I don't see the point of this at all."

"I wish for the Tendou girl to be distracted," Bison 
explained.  "I wish for her to be preoccupied.  I want her to 
exercise poor judgement.  A young woman in love is an 
exceptionally vulnerable creature, wouldn't you say?"

"She's sufficiently vulnerable anyway," Sagat countered.  "Why 
not just take what you want from her and be done with it?  She 
hasn't the power at her command to resist you."

Bison grinned.  It was pleasing that Sagat had such a lofty 
regard for his resources  - it was a state of mind he strove 
to instill in all his lackeys.  He would never let any member 
of Shadowlaw know how close to the line he was walking with 
his attempts to take over Ultra.  By now, everyone in the 
world knew of his interest in the fighting federation.  His 
enemies were out there - Interpol, the X-Men, Ryu, and all 
their noisome ilk - watching closely, waiting for him to slip 
up. Tarou had been more correct than Bison would dare admit.  
He could ill afford to be predictable in his position.

But he had no intention of explaining that to anyone, even 
Sagat.  Instead, he grinned confidently.  "Ah, Sagat.  You 
have no appreciation for the joy of the hunt, do you?  
Sometimes I despair at your lack of refinement."

Sagat shook his head.  "Refinement, indeed."

"Watch and learn, Sagat," Bison said, punching another set of 
numbers into his phone.  "I must make one more call."

The kickboxer shrugged.  "As you will, sir."

Bison waited for the sound of the voice on the other end of 
the line.  "Ah, there you are, my dear.  I'm merely checking 
in on your progress.  Did she agree to... no?  A shame.  
Mmm... oh, really?  Well, that is promising.  Yes, that is 
VERY promising."  He chuckled.

Bison's brow furrowed slightly as he listened to the voice 
filtering through the receiver. "Oh no, I'm afraid not.  Your 
services are much too valuable to me at the moment, child.  
No, the explosive device I inserted at the base of your dear 
friend's skull is staying exactly where it is.  I have the 
detonator with me at all times.  Yes, my dear.  No harm will 
come to her, so long as you continue to obey me.  Come now, 
little one.  Do you not trust me?"

Sagat suppressed a guffaw.  

- - - - - 

Daitokuji B-ko could easily have flown home to her family 
mansion in Graviton City, but sometimes she simply preferred 
to be chauffeured.  Relaxing in the plush interior of her 
father's hover-limo gave her a much-appreciated chance to 
unwind.  B-ko was feeling the pressing need for a little bit 
of down-time.  

Not that things hadn't been going well for her, of course.  
There had been a few setbacks here and there, but nothing a 
genius of her caliber couldn't handle.  But this week, neither 
she nor her beloved Sephiroth were scheduled to fight in 
Ultra, and she was looking forward to spending a little time 
away from the whole mess.

She especially wanted to get away from Shadowlaw and M. Bison.

The arrangement was a good one, she told herself.  After all, 
Shadowlaw was providing her with sufficient funding and 
technology even to impress the Daitokuji heir.  Bison had put 
a top-caliber technical staff at her disposal, well-trained 
and utterly obedient to her every word.  She had the 
opportunity to fulfill her dreams, seek her revenge, and help 
her darling Sephiroth realize his great ambitions (even if she 
was not entirely clear what those ambitions were).  A good 
arrangement... mostly.

B-ko had to admit that some of the technology she was being 
asked to work with was rather disturbing, even to an open-
minded scientific dynamo such as herself.  For instance, the 
samples gleaned from the now-defunct NERV and their 
Evangelions were eerie mixtures of advanced technology, 
biological engineering, and... something else.  Bison's people 
certainly didn't understand it all.  B-ko knew that the 
crimelord was hoping she could crack open the secrets where 
his own people had failed.  

Right now, she wasn't entirely sure that those secrets should 
ever be learned.  It wasn't an issue as petty or misguided as 
ethics, of course.  It was more a matter of survival.  There 
was something fundamentally dangerous about the Evangelions, 
something that she wasn't sure if she could control.  NERV had 
managed it... somehow.  She didn't understand it, and unease 
gnawed at her in her dreams.

And then there was Bison himself.  Certainly he'd been 
generous - she couldn't deny that.  But there was something 
about the man's actual presence which made her guts twist.  He 
projected an air of unquenchable avarice, an crimson-streaked 
lust which could never be satisfied.  He made some token 
attempt at refinement, but the mask was paper-thin and B-ko 
could see through it easily.  Underneath, Bison was a 
slavering beast at heart.  And when he turned those hungry, 
brutish eyes on her... 

Not that she feared him, of course.  She was confident that 
she could crush him, if need be, especially with Sephiroth at 
her side.  Between the two of them, nothing was impossible.

Yet even her beloved had been strange of late, in ways which 
she found vaguely unsettling.  Ever since they'd used that 
Draw Glove, he had been more mercurial in his moods, more 
difficult to predict.  At times, he seemed to draw away from 
her into some distant, empty space of his own, his eyes full 
of an endless blackness that made her shiver.  She supposed 
that was the Void... she had to have faith that he could 
remain its master.

Other times, though, he made her shiver in a much more 
pleasant fashion.  B-ko wouldn't have thought it possible, but 
Sephiroth's qualities as a lover had definitely improved over 
the past several weeks.  The depth of his passion left her 
absolutely breathless.  She had no idea where that had come 
from, but she wasn't about to question it.  And yet, on top of 
all that, there were some times at which he seemed almost... 
frivolous.  

As much as she loved Sephiroth, it was good to be away for a 
little while.  Good to have a chance to get some space to 
herself and think.  Good to finally be coming home.

B-ko stepped out of the hover-limo in front of the gates of 
the Daitokuji manor, and saw the red hair.

"Mistress B-ko?" It was Yuni, one of her subordinates from 
Graviton High.  "Is that you?"

"B-ko! B-ko-B-ko-B-ko-Bko!!!!  You're here!!! YAY!!!"  

That was undeniably C-ko.  The little blonde munchkin threw 
herself at B-ko, giggling madly.  "C... C-ko?  What's going on 
here?  Why is... SHE here?"

The red-head in question shuffled her feet.  B-ko's 
subordinates vainly attempted to hide behind one another, and 
all ended up trying to crowd behind the oversized figure of 
muscular Mari.  Only C-ko was unperturbed, lost in her own 
delusional world of joy.

"A-ko comes with us every week!" the cherubic girl explained.  
"We all get together to watch Ultra at your house, because 
you've got the biggest screen!  It's great, and when I say 
great I mean GREAT!  Ultra-violence, yay yay yay!"

A-ko tossed her red hair back and eyed B-ko cautiously.  
"Um... how's it going?"

B-ko waited for the familiar rush of fury which always 
accompanied her encounters with A-ko to take hold... and was 
surprised to find that it did not come.  The pulsing scarlet 
hatred which had been the motivating factor in her life for so 
long had, much to her surprise, evaporated like a morning 
mist.  When she looked at A-ko she felt nothing more than a 
vague sense of distaste.  

'Does this mean... I've moved on?' she thought to herself 
wonderingly.  

She looked down at C-ko, still draped around her and babbling 
about the wonders of Ultra.  She felt a familiar warmth 
towards the little girl, but nothing like the burning passion 
which had once consumed her soul.  

'My heart belongs to another,' she realized.  'My hatred as 
well.  This is the life I've left behind.  I guess this is 
what it means... to grow up.'

"You okay there, B-ko?"  A-ko asked.

"Yes," she replied, still a little dazed.  "I'm quite all 
right, thank you.  Have you been enjoying the show?"

"You're GREAT, B-ko!" C-ko blurted.  "We root for you every 
time!"

"Sort of," mumbled A-ko.  "Er... congratulations on your 
boyfriend.  He seems... um... to really suit you."  

B-ko grinned smugly.  "He's the most gorgeous man in Ultra... 
no, in the entire universe.  It's only fitting that I am his 
consort."

"Yeah, okay," A-ko said with a shrug.

"So are we gonna make popcorn?" C-ko asked.  "I WANT POPCORN!  
I can make it!  Let me in the kitchen!"

B-ko watched the ensuing scramble as her subordinates 
desperately tried to distract C-ko with squeaky toys and plush 
Dan Hibiki dolls so they could seal off the kitchen.  She 
fiddled for a moment with her lavender tresses, bemusedly 
pondering the scene before her.  She could not help but notice 
that A-ko had her back turned.

A pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over her.  "Oh, A-ko!" she 
called.

"Hmm?"

"Just for old time's sake... AKAGIYAMA MISSILES!"  With that, 
she ripped away her dress to reveal her Akagiyama-23 battle 
armor and opened fire with a swarm of miniature missiles.

"B-ko, you psychopath!" A-ko shrieked as she scrambled to 
dodge the tiny warheads.

The Daitokuji girl threw her head back and laughed, just 
before A-ko drove her through a concrete wall with a tackle.  
The other girls gathered around to watch, pleased to have a 
warm-up to Ultra unfolding right before their eyes.  

'Ah, it's good to be back,' B-ko thought.

- - - - -

Sephiroth, Son of Jenova and Master of the Void, floated high 
above the earth.  Here, in the wispy embrace of the upper 
stratosphere, he found the solitude to contemplate many 
matters.  Beneath the placid exterior of his motionless face, 
an internal debate raged between the voices in his head.

'Must [Kill] must [Destroy] the god-child must find must 
[Kill] [DESTROY] [HATE HATE HATE]...'

'Silence,' Sephiroth commanded irritably.  The churning voice 
of the [Void] subsided, but did not disappear.  He'd been 
putting up with that sort of nonsense in his head since he'd 
acquired this power, but he was not a simpleton like the 
Orochi.  He controlled the [Void] - it did not control him.  
'The girl will be destroyed.  There is no doubt.  In the wake 
of her absence, the Son of Jenova shall claim his rightful 
inheritance.'

'But how?'

Sephiroth responded to this more coherent voice with an inner 
smile.  'The girl has the power of the godhead, but she is 
still newly-born.  She has not realized her power, nor 
mastered it.  Should she stand before me once more, a mere 
sleep enchantment will not save her from me.'

'Indeed!  Let her tremble!  The might of Sephiroth is...'

'Hush,' he commanded irritably.

'That's not quite what I was asking,' the coherent voice said.  
'Even you can't find the location of Washuu's dimensional 
laboratory.  How do you plan to draw the girl out?'

'Ooh, good question!  Umm.... er... ooh...'

'Silence.'  Sephiroth pondered a moment.  'The key is Ultra.  
The answer is the god-child's bond with her "mother," Washuu.  
Should Washuu be endangered, should her life be threatened, 
the child will come.  She will reveal herself, to save the 
mother she loves.  And then...'

'She will fall before the highly mighty power of...'

'The [VOID] will [destroy] [kill] [annihilate] [DESTROY]...'

'Yes, yes,' the calmer voice interrupted.  'All right, I can 
see that working.  So what, do you intend to wait for such a 
fight to happen?'

Sephiroth considered this for a moment.  'That... could be a 
problem.'

'Indeed.  The longer you wait, the more time the god-child has 
to realize her potential.  Your window of opportunity will not 
stay open forever.'

'Hey!  I know!  Oh, I know!  I have an idea!'

Sephiroth gave the mental equivalent of a sigh.  'Yes?'

'Call her out!' the voice suggested brightly.  'Challenge her!  
Give her a good taunting, and then she'll come out and...'

'Be [consumed] in the [VOID]...'

'I would advise against that,' the coherent voice suggested.  

'Why is that?'

'You have kept your knowledge of the god-child a secret, for 
good reason.  Even your adorable little consort does not know 
about her.  It would be an ill thing if a meddler like Bison 
were to learn of your true ambitions.'

'Mm.  True enough.'

'If you openly declare a rivalry with Washuu, they might 
suspect.  Bison is cunning enough to put two and two together.  
You must arrange the match, but you must not tip your hand too 
soon.'

'Arrange... with Controversial Jack?'

'[Crush] [Annihilate] [DESTROY!!!]'

'Please.  If you want something done, you don't deal with 
lackeys.  You go to the top.  I believe that, under the right 
circumstances, you could convince Tendou Nabiki to see things 
your way.'

'Are you suggesting a threat?'

'Oh no,' the voice said.  'Nothing so coarse.  I'm suggesting 
something a bit more... intimate...'

- - - - -

Bean Bandit whistled appreciatively at the sheer bulk of the 
safe's titanium door.  "Damn, girl.  How much did it cost you 
to get this place?"

Tifa Lockheart momentarily paused in the intricate task of 
entering her identification code and glanced back over her 
shoulder.  "Digging a top-secret tunnel under my place and 
installing all this security?  Trust me, Beanie... you don't 
wanna know."

"So what's in the big vault, Teef?"

The computer confirmed Tifa's identification code, retina 
pattern, and thumb print.  It emitted a series of rapid 
clicks, and then the wrist-thick bolts on the vault door 
retracted with an explosive clang.  The massive door swung 
ponderously open, bathing the two fighters in the glow of 
ancient power.  

"My collection," Tifa said.  

"Whoah..." Bean gasped.

Tifa gestured at the velvet-lined shelves filled with multi-
colored glowing stones.  "This is the materia that I used to 
use... as well as the ones I inherited when Cloud died.  And," 
she pointed at a pair of gauntlets which practically throbbed 
with energy, "the Premium Heart.  These are what we used to 
take down Sephiroth. This is the good stuff, honey."

The Roadbuster scratched rubbed the back of his neck.  "Didn't 
know you had this much materia.  What's it do?"

"A lot.  Too much, really."

"Too much?"

She cocked her head, thinking.  "It's hard to describe what 
it's like when you're using these.  The power they give you... 
it's incredible.  You feel like nothing could stop you.  You 
feel..." she ran her finger along the surface of a large red 
materia, "like you could do anything.  Like a god.  But I 
think it uses you as much as you use it. You know what I 
mean?"

"Not really," Bean admitted.

"Well, never mind.  The point is," she continued, "I don't 
need this level of power.  I don't want it.  I'd rather rely 
on my fighting skills and just use the little ones for some 
extra flexibility.  These," she gestured at the upper shelves, 
"are strictly for emergencies."

"What kind of emergencies?"

Tifa frowned, and her eyes grew distant.  "Emergencies like 
Sephiroth."

Bean put a hand on her shoulder.  "Teef... that guy ain't your 
problem anymore."

She gave a little shake of her head.  "Maybe, maybe not.  
Anyway, you never know when you'll need to save the world, 
right?  Good to have the firepower in case you need it."

Bean chuckled.  "So all this security... you worried about 
Yuffie?"

Tifa smiled.  "Actually, she's not the one I'm most concerned 
about.  Yuffie's a pain in the butt, I won't deny it, but 
she's got her own powerful materia.  She's using some of them 
to compete in Omega."

"Do you really think that would stop her from stealing yours?"

"I don't know," Tifa admitted.  "I like to think she wouldn't 
go that far.  Pinching the materia I bring to Ultra is one 
thing - that's her style.  It was stupid of me to bring that 
Eden one out in the open.  But you have to remember, Bean... 
Yuffie fought alongside the rest of us.  When the chips were 
down, she came through for us.  We were... comrades-in-arms, 
you know?  It's kind of a sacred trust.  I think even Yuffie 
respects that."

Bean favored her with a lopsided grin.  "Yeah, but you ain't 
gonna tell her about this safe, are you?"

The long-haired martial artist laughed.  "Not on your life, 
Bean Bandit!  I'm not that stupid!"  She rummaged around in 
the lower shelves of the vault, rattling through the smaller 
globes.

"So, what are you gonna use?" the big man asked.

"Oh, I like to rotate my materia out every so often, just to 
keep everybody on their toes."  She snapped a green materia 
into place on her glove.  "There we go.  A little bit of 
lightning..." she positioned a blue one next to it, "... 
something to give a little extra pop to my attacks.  One for 
healing, and one to use in case those sneaks try to poison me 
or something.  There!  All set."

The bulky American shook his head.  "I don't know how you keep 
track of all those darned things."

"An acquired knack," she responded.  "You sure you don't want 
me to teach you how to use these?"

"Nah," the Roadbuster said.  "It ain't my style.  Besides, 
I've got my hands full workin' out with you already."

She pressed herself against him and gave him a sly look.  "Oh, 
is that so?"

He grinned back.  "I was talkin' about the martial arts, 
girl."

She laughed.  "You're getting better.  And it's good for me to 
try to teach you.  Helps me get back to the basics."  She 
pinched him playfully on the cheek.  "You're a good partner, 
Bean Bandit.  In every way."

A worried look crossed Bean's scarred face.  "Teef..."

"Hmm?"

Bean pulled back a little bit and cleared his throat.  "Next 
week... we're both in that Reboot thing.  It ain't a stretch 
to say... we could end up fightin' each other."

"Ah," she replied thoughtfully.  "Yes.  I know."

"If that happens..." he began.

"We'll settle it by Rock-Paper-Scissors!" Tifa exclaimed with 
a thumbs-up gesture.

"No way!" Bean cried indignantly.  "I never beat you at that!"

Tifa laughed.  "Oh well.  Had to try it."

"No, listen to me, Teef," Bean said.  "I've been thinkin' 
about this a lot.  If we fight one another in that ring... I 
expect you to throw down and give me your best shot.  'Cuz 
that's what I'm gonna do."

"Really?" Tifa gave him a sidelong look.  "You'll fight me the 
same way you'd fight... say, Marlo?"

"Well... not quite," Bean admitted.  "But I ain't gonna hold 
back, neither.  I'm not gonna stop and ask if you're all 
right, or back off if you're on the ropes.  None of that crap.  
I ain't gonna hold it against you if you beat me, but I got no 
plans to lie down.  Not even for you."

Tifa leaned forward and rested her head against his broad 
chest for a moment, then stood on her toes to kiss him.  
"Thank you."

"You're thanking me?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes glittering.  "I was hoping you'd 
feel that way.  I want... your respect, Bean.  As a partner.  
As a fighter.  You've just given it to me."  She pressed 
against him, hands clasped gently around his neck.  

He wrapped her in his muscular arms and held her close.  "You 
are one hell of a woman, Teef."

"Hey, Bean," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"We're first on the card tonight, honey.  We'd better get our 
butts to the UltraDome."

- - - - -

The hot glare of the spotlights.

The hum of the loudspeakers.

The tension of the crowd as the seconds ticked away.

The old man leaned against a concrete support near the main 
Ultra concession stand and waited.  He wore a manager's 
uniform, and the vendors in the UltraDome were his domain.  
The Ultra Soda mixture this week was a work of art - a few 
herbs to loosen up the vocal chords, a mixture of vitamins to 
boost lung capacity, and a dab of his own special mixture 
which he called 'Essence of Howler Monkey.'  

Through the tunnel entrance, he could see the image of Hiroshi 
warming up to his introduction.  The words appeared in bright 
flashing red on the tremendous monitors of the UltraTron.

"Are you READY...."

The old man held his breath, closed his eyes, and savored the 
moment.

"... for some... ULTRAVIOLENCE!!??"

The sound slammed through the UltraDome like a bomb blast, 
rattling the foundations of the great structure, perhaps even 
straining the tectonic plates in the crust of the earth.  A 
smile spread across the face of the old man.  He was the 
vending manager of Ultra, Stone Cold Deaf Dan Hibiscus... and 
even he could hear the roar.  He basked in the magic of pure 
sonic chaos as the crowd screamed their hearts out.

The show was on.

"I am Hiroshi, and this is my partner, Daisuke!  Ladies and 
gentlemen, we proudly welcome you  to the 66th episode of the 
most spectacular sporting event in the human history!"

"Don't you think that's saying a bit much?" Daisuke asked.

"Can YOU think of a better one?" Hiroshi countered, then held 
his microphone out to the audience.

The shockwave of the ensuing "NO" was powerful enough to set 
off every car alarm in a thirty block radius.  Daisuke was 
practically flattened in his chair.  

"Okay..." he wheezed.  "You're right."

"Of COURSE I am!" Hiroshi enthused.  "Ladies and gents, I am 
pleased, proud, and tickled pink to inform you that we have a 
TERRIFIC card lined up for you tonight!  A real roundhouse 
throwing, giant mecha-blowing, magic spell glowing treat!  
Folks, I'm looking at tonight's card in front of me, and I'm 
thinking that this is a quadruple-decker 'Wow' cake, with 
creamy 'Wow' icing and a big handful of chocolate-'WOW' 
sprinkles on top!"

Daisuke reached slowly over to his partner's side of the 
table.  "I think you've had enough caffeine for tonight, 
Hiroshi..." he said.

Hiroshi snatched the mug of triple-strength espresso away from 
Daisuke's grasping fingers and slammed it down in one gulp.  
"Daisuke!  This is ULTRA!  There's no room for moderation in 
Ultra, my man!"

Daisuke looked over his shoulder to make sure the paramedics 
were on alert.  "Okay... well.  Can't argue with that.  I 
think it's about time for the fist match, right?"

"You bet your bright pink boxer shorts!" Hiroshi shouted.  
Daisuke gave him a black look, but the hyper announcer ignored 
it.  Instead, he gestured to the gangplank, and cried:  "Give 
it up for Controversial Jack Lysias, folks!" 

With a blast of exceedingly controversial and ear-mangling 
music, Jack strode down the aisle and took his place in the 
center of the ring.  "Hiya, folks!" he said, waving to the 
crowd. "Say hello to the nice people, Mr. Duck!"

>SQUEAK! SQUEAK!< 

"Well said, Mr. Duck!" Jack beamed at the surging throng of 
fans.  "Folks, we've got a great card lined up for you.  But 
that's not all.  Next week is Ultra REBOOT... and we're going 
to be dabbling out special dollops of news all through the 
show.  So get your hands away from those remotes, you 
violence-crazed fight nuts!  You don't want to miss a single 
announcement, much less one of these pulse-pounding brawls.  
Strap yourself in and get ready to rock!"

The crowd shrieked in sheer apoplectic joy.

"But first thing's first.  For your sadistic enjoyment, we 
have the Jusenkyou Survivors squaring off against the 
Roadbusters!  Tifa and Bean haven't exactly been lighting up 
the boards with victories lately, have they?  And don't count 
out Mousse... he may be a freaky-sneaky devil, but the man has 
Duck Power!  You gotta respect that, folks!"

The thunderous round of boos from the crowd showed exactly 
what they thought of Mousse's Duck Power.  Jack just grinned - 
jeers and cheers were all the same to him, so long as they 
were loud.  

"Okay, folks... let's hear some noise for the Jusenkyou 
Survivors!  Shampoo, Mousse - come on out!"

The two Amazons emerged from through the misty curtain of dry 
ice into view.  Shampoo bounced out in front, struck her #114 
'Aren't I Cute' pose, and smiled prettily at the audience.  
She was greeted with a solid wall of boos, and her smile 
immediately transformed into an angry scowl.  "Stupid fans," 
she grumbled, stomping peevishly towards the ring.

Mousse, on the other hand, reveled in the crowd's disdain.  He 
strode down the aisle with stately grace, his eyes hidden 
beneath his long bangs, a wicked grin on his face.  When he 
reached the end of the gangplank, he vaulted up to the top of 
the turnbuckle and spread his arms.  A bouquet of deadly 
glistening blades erupted from each sleeve.  The fans shook 
their fists and howled.

Jack wagged a finger at the Chinese youth.  "Those pig-
stickers better be for show, laddie.  This is a Lambda match, 
not Hardcore."

With a flick of each wrist, Mousse sent the array of blades 
whistling through the air.  The various knives plunked down in 
two even rows along sides the gangplank through which Tifa and 
Bean were scheduled to enter.  "Of course," he said with a 
cocky smile.  "I merely wanted to greet our foes in style."

"And let's meet those foes!" Jack bellowed.  "Roadbusters... 
get down here and get ready to rock!"

Tifa and Bean jogged through the archway, deliberately 
ignoring the parade of knives lining the ramp, and waved at 
the crowd.  The fans cried out in adoration for Ultra's 
favorite couple.   A couple of frenzied admirers waved a 
banner which read "Tifa is my Final Heaven!" 

The referee, unnoticed by all, managed to find the ring in 
spite of his horrendous case of myopia and badly out-of-date 
prescription.  

"Okay, folks," Jack said as he climbed out of the ring.  
"Let's get this show on the road!"

][ LAMBDA MATCH #1
][ Jusenkyou Survivors vs. Roadbusters
][ FIGHT!

Mousse let out a sinister laugh.  "Heh heh... so, Bean Bandit.  
We meet again.  This time, however, you'll find that I..."

His partner barged past him and stormed into the ring.  
"Shampoo fighting first," she insisted.

Mousse's smug-bastard exterior crumbled.  "B... but my darling 
Shampoo!  I wasn't finished with my speech!"

"Make silly speech later," the purple-haired girl snapped.  
"Fight now."

'She never has quite gotten the hang of Ultra,' Mousse mused 
dejectedly.  He settled into his corner and waited impatiently 
for his turn.

Tifa slapped her palm against Bean's and grinned.  "This one's 
mine, babe," she said.

"Clean her clock, Teef."

The two female warriors circled each other on the canvas, 
sizing one another up.  Their movements were a study in 
contrasting styles - Shampoo with her balletic kung-fu, 
gliding from one stance to the next, and Tifa bouncing from 
one foot to the next with a kickboxer's rhythm.  Finally, 
Shampoo closed the gap with a leap and let fly with the first 
attack.

"Take this, stupid suspender-girl!"

Tifa blocked the sweeping kick and scoffed.  "'Suspender-
girl?'  Give me a break, airhead."  She countered with a 
staccato punching combination.

Shampoo blocked each blow, but she still winced in pain.  
Every strike landed with small crackle of light and pop of 
energy.

Hiroshi leaned forward in his chair.  "Tifa's hits really look 
like they're hurting Shampoo!""

Daisuke scratched his chin.  "What's up with those flashes of 
light?"

"If I had to guess," Hiroshi said, "I'd say that Tifa's got 
her materia wired to add an electric jolt to each attack!  
She's putting the linked slots on her glove to good use this 
time!"

"You've got a lot of strategy guides in your room, don't you?" 
Daisuke asked.

"Stacked up to the ceiling, my friend!" Hiroshi informed him 
happily.

In the ring, Shampoo was getting the worst of it.  Tifa was 
in top form, landing punches and kicks with rapid precision.  
The Amazon girl retaliated gamely, but she was at a loss in 
dealing with the electric jolts that accompanied each of 
Tifa's hits.  She attempted to dodge each attack rather than 
block, but Tifa's onslaught was too much even for the nimble 
Chinese warrior to completely avoid.

The purple-haired fighter scrambled away, desperate to get 
some distance, and cleared the length of the ring in a single 
leap.  Tifa hopped forward, pressing the attack.  She was a 
little winded and aching a bit in the ribs where Shampoo had 
landed a good body blow, but she was feeling very confident.

"Stupid... >pant< ....cheating girl!" Shampoo gasped.  
"Stop... using tricks!"

Tifa rocked on the balls of her feet and grinned impudently.  
"Hey, it's not my fault you're so one-dimensional, Shampoo!"

"What you say?!" the Amazon hissed.  "Mousse!"

"Here, my love," Mousse cried.  He drew her bonbori from the 
folds of his robe and threw the pair of heavy maces in her 
direction.  

"Bolt 1!" Tifa called, casting a crackling arc of electricity 
through the air.  The blue streak of energy collided with the 
bonbori mid-flight and deflected their course, sending the 
weapons tumbling out of the ring.  

Shampoo glared at Tifa in rage.  "You stupid cheater!" 

"Sticks and stones may break my bones," Tifa sing-songed.  "But 
your kicks won't do the trick!"

"Tag out, Shampoo!" Mousse pleaded.  "Let me handle this!"

Shampoo would have none of it.  With a high-pitched battle 
cry, she hurled herself at Tifa with all her might.  The dark-
haired fighter ducked under the flying kick and pivoted, 
driving her elbow hard into Shampoo's abdomen as the girl 
landed.  She followed up with a fierce axe-kick, smashing the 
heel of her heavy boot onto the back of Shampoo's neck as the 
Amazon was doubled over.  

Shampoo staggered, gasping for breath.  Tifa reared back for 
the final blow...

... only to miss, as Shampoo's body was yanked across the ring 
on the end of a long chain.  She tumbled into the corner, and 
Mousse tagged her quivering hand.

"Don't worry, my beloved!" Mousse told his groggy partner as 
he unwrapped the chain from her waist.  "I'll take care of 
these fools!"

"Shampoo... not finished yet..." the Amazon girl mumbled.

"Hey!"  Tifa turned to the referee in irritation, hands on her 
hips.  "That wasn't a legal tag, was it?"

"Er..." the ref muttered.

Mousse didn't let Tifa's moment of distraction go to waste.  
He drew a heavy club with an iron head the size of a bowling 
ball and hurled it in her direction.  The weapon pounded into 
Tifa's temple with crushing force, sending the tall girl 
staggering in shock.  

"I'll allow it," the ref squeaked.

"Teef!" Bean called.  "Tag out, babe!"

"Yeah, okay..." Tifa gasped, weaving to the corner to touch 
her partner's hand.

Bean grasped her by the shoulders to help her get her balance.  
"You okay?"

Soft green energy from her healing materia already enveloped 
her.  She clutched the side of her head and tried to shake out 
the cobwebs.  "I'll be fine.  Go on."

Bean Bandit cleared the ropes and smacked his fist into his 
palm.  "Okay, Mousse.  It's just you and me, chump."

Mousse hid his hands in his sleeves and chuckled.  "Yes, my 
old enemy.  Now we finally meet again.  This match will be 
decided between the truly hardcore warriors.  But this time, I 
have the advantage!"

"Talk is cheap," Bean said.  "Let's go!"

"With pleasure!" In a flash, Mousse produced a long steel 
staff.  He charged in, encircling his brawny opponent.  

Mousse advanced and retreated in a series of fluid swoops, 
lashing out with the staff on each pass.  Bean blocked most of 
the hits with his forearms, letting the hardened ceramic 
plates in his armored jacket absorb the punishment, but Mousse 
still managed to land several effective blows.  Bean's armor 
was weaker on his legs, and his hands and head were 
vulnerable.  

The lantern-jawed driver grunted with each hit and waded 
through the assault, trying to corner his agile opponent.  
Mousse laughed confidently and kept with his strategy.

"You fool!" he taunted the Roadbuster.  "You're all strength 
and no finesse.  My technique is far superior.  Yield now, and 
spare yourself further humiliation!"

"Spare this, ya jerk!" Bean snarled.  With surprising agility, 
he ducked underneath one of Mousse's staff strikes and 
executed a very respectable sweep kick.  Mousse took the blow 
hard in the leg and staggered backwards, off-balance.

Bean didn't give him a chance to regain his poise.  He rose 
from his crouch and launched a sharp uppercut to Mousse's jaw.  
The punch landed with a distinct crack, and Mousse sprawled 
into a neutral corner, dazed.

"Whoah!  Check THAT out!" Hiroshi enthused.  

"It seems that Bean's fighting technique is improving," 
Daisuke observed.  "I guess he's been training with his 
partner."

"And with a guy that strong, a little technique goes a long 
way!" Hiroshi exclaimed.  "He caught Mousse totally flat-
footed, and now the Jusenkyou Survivor is in trouble!"

"We've seen Mousse take a lot of punishment before," Daisuke 
commented.  "Let's see how he recovers from this setback."

The long-haired Master of Hidden Weapons pulled himself to his 
feet in the corner, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.  
"It seems... I underestimated you."

Bean stomped forward, fists clenched.  He had Mousse in the 
corner and did not intend to let him escape.  

"I didn't want to use this, but... Water Balloon Attack!"  

"Oh CRAP!"

Mousse let fly with a spread of water balloons from the 
copious depths of his sleeves.  Bean tried vainly to dodge, 
but ended up thoroughly splattered with cold water from the 
exploding projectiles.  He buried his face in the sleeve of 
his jacket, desperately covering up his eyes.  

With sinister deliberation, Mousse reached into his robe and 
produced a small disco-ball ornament.  He dangled it in front 
of the soaking Bean Bandit.  "Well, look what I have here.  
Such a shiny little bangle... see how it glitters, Bean?  
Don't you want to feast your eyes on its loveliness?"

Bean growled and kept his face hidden in his sleeve.  "Teef!" 
he called.

"I'm on it, Bean!"  Tifa began to unscrew the cap of the 
thermos full of hot water they'd brought with them.

"Not so fast!" Mousse barked.  A heavy weighted chain snaked 
out from his sleeve, streaking across the length of the ring.  
The thick bulb of steel on the end of the chain collided with 
the thermos in Tifa's hands, shattering it into fragments.  

"Damn it!" she swore.  "Bean... tag out!  Over here!"

"I think not!"  Mousse crowed triumphantly.  He brought his 
chain around in a humming arc, smashing it hard into Bean's 
body.  Even the Roadbuster's armored jacket couldn't 
completely absorb the force of that blow.  The big man 
staggered under the hit, disoriented.

"If there's one thing I've learned," the Chinese warrior said 
grimly, "it's how to take advantage of a Jusenkyou curse.  Now 
learn the suffering of a Jusenkyou survivor, Bandit!"  He 
whipped the chain around and landed another blow.

Hiroshi rose to his feet.  "And Mousse is really sticking it
to the Hardcore champ!"

"Bean can't find his way to the corner with his eyes closed," 
Daisuke pointed out.  "But he doesn't dare open them.  I think 
he's really in trouble this time."

"Bean!" Tifa shouted helplessly.

Bean lashed out clumsily with his free hand, but he didn't 
even come close to landing a hit on his adversary.  He tried 
to grab the chain as the blows rained down upon his armored 
body, but earned nothing more than a savage crack across the 
knuckles.  Bean howled in pain and covered up, lurching about 
the ring in a futile attempt to escape the storm of agonizing 
blows.  

Mousse laughed like a maniac, whipping his chain around in a 
series of punishing parabolic arcs.  With each brutal hit, 
Bean's rage and frustration mounted.  He was blind, powerless, 
burning with impotent rage.  The muscular fighter snarled with 
a mixture of agony and fury.

Tifa watched his battle aura with mounting astonishment.  'Is 
he really going to... could he finally have reached the 
point... YES!'  A wild hope seized her, and she leaned 
forward.  

Bean's dropped to one knee under a devastating overhand blow.  
Mousse lashed the chain around in a long arc and prepared for 
a truly monstrous finishing strike.  

Tifa shouted with all her might.  "NOW, Bean!  He's right in 
front of you!"

A roar of rage tore itself from Bean Bandit's throat, and his 
battle aura flared to life.  He exploded forward, moving with a 
burst of speed that caught Mousse utterly by surprise.  The 
Chinese boy's grip on his chain weapon slipped, and he 
stumbled.

In a single, astonishingly graceful motion, Bean Bandit 
whipped off his leather jacket and clutched the armored 
garment by both sleeves.  "CERAMIC TORNADO!" he bellowed, and 
twisted the jacket around his head in a spinning blur.  

The combination of leather, Kevlar, and hardened ceramic 
plates hit Mousse like an iron maul.  Bean lashed his jacket 
around in a whirling frenzy, landing half a dozen pulverizing 
blows on Mousse's body in rapid succession.  Each strike 
collided against the Chinese fighter's body with a deafening 
clatter. 

The Jusenkyou Survivor tumbled to the canvas, his body limp as 
a rag.  The referee began the ten count, but it was clearly 
just a formality.

"Did you see THAT, folks?" Hiroshi shouted.  "I think... no, I 
KNOW that Bean Bandit just pulled off his very first Limit 
Break!"

"A Limit Break," Daisuke echoed.  "Powerful special techniques 
that a fighter can achieve when their pain and emotional 
threshold reaches a certain critical level.  I guess his 
training with Tifa really has paid off."

"Bean!" Tifa shouted, bounding into the ring once the count 
was completed.

But the Roadbuster was deaf to the world.  He weaved his way 
over to Mousse's unconscious form, moving like a drunk.  The 
battered warrior stooped over, and after a few abortive grabs 
he managed to snatch hold of the little disco ball.  
"P...purty," he hummed, staring in fascination at the 
glittering bauble.

Tifa approached him, shaking her head.  "Oh, Beanie."

Bean pointed a wobbly finger at the ball.  "Lookit, Teef.  
Shiny..." He grinned like an idiot.

Tifa sighed heavily.  "We are going to have to figure out some 
way around this magpie problem of yours, my love.  Come on.  I 
think it's time to hit the hot tubs."

With that, she took him gently by the elbow and led him from 
the rings.  Congratulatory applause rained down on the pair, 
but Bean Bandit was lost in a glimmering world of simple-
minded rapture.  

"And there go the victors, folks!" Hiroshi announced.  "What a 
fight!  What a victory for the Roadbusters!"

"And we'll be back momentarily with another primitive display 
of carnage," Daisuke commented.

- - - - - 

Tendou Nabiki watched the big office screen fade to a 
commercial, then hit the mute button on her remote.  She 
leaned back against her desk and allowed herself a satisfied 
smile. The first fight of the evening was always critical - it 
couldn't be the show's climax, but it had to be strong enough 
to hook the viewers.  Jack Lysias seemed like he was 
completely out to lunch most of the time, but Nabiki had to 
admire the man's booking skills.

The intercom on her desk buzzed.  "Ms. Tendou?"

"Yes?"  

"Mr. Tarou is here."

A wave of unexpected relief washed through her.  Nabiki had 
tried not to dwell on it, but the past several weeks she'd 
felt especially vulnerable without her enforcer close at hand.  
"Please send him in," she told her secretary.  She smoothed 
her hair with an unconscious gesture and turned to face the 
door.

Tarou looked different, she noticed immediately.  He seemed 
thinner, and there were grey hollows under his eyes.  That 
was partially due to his stay in the hospital, she assumed... 
but there was something else.  Before, Tarou had swaggered 
through life with an arrogant confidence, much like Ranma but 
with a keener edge.   Now, though...

'Has he lost his nerve?' she thought, concerned.  'After that 
fight with Krillin...'

"Hello, Na... Ms. Tendou," Tarou said quietly.

"Tarou."  She looked him over again.  He didn't seem like he 
was beaten down - his eyes glittered with a grim 
determination.  "I'm glad to see you're well."

"Thank you."  

The brashness in his bearing had vanished, she realized, but 
there was something much harder underneath.  It was like he 
was preparing himself for something.  "It's... good to have 
you back, Tarou."  She almost said that she'd missed him, but 
the words didn't quite make it past her lips.

"I'm afraid I'm not really back, Ms. Tendou," he told her 
gravely.

That shook her.  "Wha... what do you mean?"

He didn't meet her eyes.  "I'm not fit to return to duty."

"Do you mean you still need time to heal?" she asked, 
concerned.  She hadn't realized that Krillin had beaten him 
that badly.

"That's not it."  He paused a moment, choosing his words.  
"You need me to be more than I've been in the past.  And I'm 
not up to the job.  Not yet, anyway."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"Ms... Nabiki."  He stepped forward, a quiet urgency in his 
voice.  "Listen to me.  You don't just need an enforcer to 
keep your fighters in line anymore.  You are in danger.  
You're in serious, terrible danger."

"You mean... Bison?"  Her throat tightened.

The Chinese fighter nodded.  "Yes.  In a way, I'm glad that 
bald idiot of a referee beat the hell out of me.  If I 
couldn't take a joker like him, what hope could I have against 
someone like Bison or Sephiroth?  But that's what you need 
now. You need someone who can protect you from them... 
someone who can stand up to anything."

Nabiki closed her eyes and shook her head softly.  She'd been 
trying not to think about this.  After the financial reports, 
she'd tried to convince herself that Bison wasn't that much of 
a threat.  But no matter how much money she had on her side, 
the man was still a cold-blooded murderer.  There was no 
telling what he was really capable of doing.  "My fighters..." 
she began.

"They called him out on the air, yes," Tarou acknowledged.  
"But they think it's just another gimmick.  They won't be there 
to save you... not unless..."

"Yes?"

"Not unless you hire someone to replace me.  A bodyguard.  
Full-time." He frowned. "Someone from the Omega division.  
Someone that even Bison has to respect."

"You want me to hire someone else?"  

"Temporarily," he clarified.  "Until I get back."

"Until you... where are you going?"

He took another step forward, and looked into her eyes.  "My 
job is to protect you, Nabiki.  I intend to do just that.  
Right now, the best way for me to protect you is to leave you 
in someone else's care.  But I don't intend to let things 
stand at that."

"Tarou," she said quietly.

"I will gain the power to defend you," he vowed softly.  "When 
I have that power, I'll return.  I swear it to you."

"Where... do you plan to go?" she whispered.

He seemed to grow conscious that he'd closed the distance 
between them, and stepped back towards the door.  A bit of his 
cocky demeanor crept back into his voice.  "Oh, I have a few 
ideas.  I won't concern you with the details, though.  Just 
trust me."

"I do," she said gently.  Then, with more briskly, "I trust 
you, Tarou.  You've never given me a reason not to."

"That's good."

"Actually," she continued, "with finances as they are, I can 
afford to continue paying your salary while you're off... 
doing whatever.  Since you're working for the long-term 
benefit of the company..."

He waved a hand.  "There's no need for that.   Money won't buy 
me what I require."

"I see," she said.  "Then, good luck, Tarou.  I hope... that I 
see you again soon."

He opened the door to leave, then took one last look over his 
shoulder.  "You will.  I promise you."

Nabiki stared at the flat surface of the door after he'd 
departed.  She clasped her hands together to keep them from 
trembling.  'A bodyguard...' she thought.

On the big screen in her office, Ultra was back on the air.

- - - - - 

"Welcome back!" belted Hiroshi.  "And have we got a match for 
you folks!  After a long hiatus from Ultra, we're proud to 
welcome back the Cybergrrlz very own... GALLY!"

"We haven't seen much of the Scrapyard's greatest Hunter-
Warrior lately," Daisuke noted.

"But she had the stones to call out Bison live on the air," 
Hiroshi pointed out.  "Tonight, we'll find out if the Ultra's 
own Battle Angel still has what it takes, or if she's become a 
Rusty Angel during her time off!"

"She'll have her work cut out for her," Daisuke provided.

"That's RIGHT!  Because tonight she's going toe-to-toe with 
your former God and mine, the Sorcery Genius Extraordinaire... 
Lina Inverse!"

The crowd screamed in general approval.  Gally had been out of 
touch so long that her popularity had eroded, but the Ultra 
fans loved to see Lina in action.  

"It's a classic clash between science and sorcery, coming your 
way!" Hiroshi cried, pumping his fist in the air.  "Goku's on 
call for the referee duties... time to get it on!"

The UltraTron flickered to life, revealing a panoramic view of 
a post-apocalyptic urban landscape.  Grey wrecks of 
skyscrapers littered the skyline, while tenacious shrubs and 
weeds forced their way through the shattered rubble of the 
streets below.  The UltraPod cameras swept their way to the 
top of the tallest intact building in the city, orbited the 
ancient structure in soaring arcs, and finally zoomed in on a 
lone figure standing atop the edifice.  

Son Goku stood on the cracked concrete of the skyscraper's 
roof and gave the cue.  Two glowing portals opened on either 
side of the referee, and the Omega fighters stepped into view.

Lina and Gally sized each other up.   "Hey, Gally.  Long time 
no see," Lina offered.

The Hunter Warrior grinned, her trenchcoat flapping in the dry 
breeze.  Glossy black leather covered the lithe, graceful form 
of her cybernetic body.  "Inverse.  You know I don't have 
anything against you, but that doesn't mean I'll hold back."

Lina flashed a sassy smirk.  "So who said anything about 
holding back?"

Gally gave a curt nod, an eager gleam in her eyes.  "Good.  I 
expect you to give me your best shot, Lina Inverse."

'My best shot,' Lina thought.  'You haven't seen my best shot, 
girl, and if you're lucky you never will.  Hell, you haven't 
even seen my SECOND-best shot.  But I know exactly what you're 
talking about, Gally.  It's what everyone expects, isn't it?'

"Don't worry," the sorceress assured her foe.  "I won't 
disappoint you."

"All right, ladies," Goku said.  "You know the rules.  
Destruction of the world is a technical foul and results in a 
disqualification.  Are you ready?"

][ OMEGA MATCH #1
][ Lina Inverse vs. Gally
][ FIGHT!

"Get ready, Inverse!" Gally snarled, adopting a fighting 
stance.  "I'm not the same fighter you've seen before.  I've 
worked long and hard with Washuu getting this new body 
perfectly tuned!"

"Hope you have some spare parts left over," Lina teased.  She 
gathered her energy onto her hand, then slammed her palm onto
the ground.  "DUG HAUT!"

The surface of the rooftop immediately erupted with towering 
spikes, each one a magically-shaped spear of concrete and 
reinforced steel wrenched into being from the building's 
structure.  Gally leaped just in time to avoid being impaled 
on the spike which thrust up directly beneath her feet.

"Looks like Lina hasn't been idle either!" Hiroshi observed.  
"We normally don't see that kind of Shamanism out of her... a 
strong opening maneuver!"

"Maybe not," Daisuke countered.  "I think Gally's going to use 
it against her..."

The cybernetic warrior moved in a blur, rebounding off the 
warped spikes like a living missile.  Lina stepped back in 
surprise, barely able to track the movements of her speeding 
adversary.  'She's gotten faster, that's for sure,' she 
thought warily.

Gally's black-clad figure suddenly streaked from the forest of 
concrete spears, rocketing towards the sorceress.  Lina barely 
had time to call up a defensive spell.  "AIR VALM!" she cried, 
forming an invisible wall of magic in front of her.

The Hunter-Warrior twisted in mid-air, absorbing the impact 
against the shield by landing in a spider-like crouch. The 
blow she struck against the magical barrier was almost too 
quick for the eye to follow, but the results were immediately 
obvious.  The strike didn't penetrate Lina's defense, but a 
shockwave took hold of the diminutive sorceress and hurled her 
back, perilously close to the building's edge.

"Whoah!" Hiroshi shouted.  "How'd Gally manage to get through 
Lina's shield like that?"

Daisuke leaned forward intently.  "Gally's Panzer Kunst style 
of fighting is designed to let her send powerful vibrations 
right through the armor of an enemy.  It seems the effect 
works against magical shields, too."

"Lina can't be happy about that!" Hiroshi exclaimed.

Lina was not particularly happy about that.  She barely 
managed to right herself and get her bearings before Gally 
bore down on her, a savage grin threatening to split her face.  
"Aak!" Lina screeched.  "ARC BRASS!"

She wasn't really sure if that would be enough to stop someone 
like Gally - the Arc Brass was an impressive looking spell, 
blanketing the whole roof with twisting bolts of lightning, 
but it wasn't really as powerful as it appeared.  Fortunately 
for the sorceress, it was enough to do the trick.  Gally 
wavered momentarily as the electricity coursed through her 
metallic body.

Lina didn't intend to let the opportunity slip by.  "BOMB DI 
WIND!"

A hissing blast of hyper-accelerated air shot forth from 
Lina's outstretched hands and struck Gally like a cannonball, 
lifting the cyborg clear off her feet.  Her body tumbled 
erratically through the sky, plummeting over the edge of the 
towering skyscraper.

"Gally's off the building!" Hiroshi yelled.  "Can even her 
body survive a fall like that?"

"I guess we'll find out when she hits," Daisuke said.

But Gally didn't hit the ground after all.  She pointed a 
finger towards the side of the structure as she plunged 
towards the earth.  "Monofilament!" she barked, and a nearly-
invisible strand of wire streaked from her fingertip.  The 
metallic claw on the end of the filament bit into the concrete 
and held fast.  As thin as the strand was, it was strong 
enough to arrest the Hunter-Warrior's dangerous fall.  

Lina peeked over the side of the building, cautiously eyeing 
the tiny figure lowering herself to the ground below.  'That's 
a new trick,' she observed. A strange glint of light to her 
left caught her eye.

The sorceress peered curiously at the concrete wreckage of the 
building top.  She was surprised to see a group of tiny 
spiders scuttling towards her, their little feet scuffling as 
the moved.  'Spiders?' she thought.  'They seem kind of loud 
for spiders...'

That's when she realized the insects were made of metal.

"Argh! RAY WIN..."

From the ground below, Gally transmitted the signal for the 
tiny Arachno-bots to detonate.  Orange fire burst in every 
direction as powerful shockwaves shredded the battered 
skyscraper.  Huge chunks of stone sprayed from the blast in 
every direction, showering across the grim wreck of a city.  

'Did that get her?' Gally thought as she dodged a hunk of 
debris.

A small caped figure rocketed forth from the billowing smoke 
and dust.  "That was pretty sneaky!" Lina Inverse called.  Her 
clothes were singed and she was a bit battered, but the Ray 
Wing provided her with a strong defensive field as well as the 
ability to fly.  Lina had completed the enchantment just in 
time for the barrier to absorb the brunt of the blast.  

"I warned you!" Gally shouted.  "Don't underestimate me!"

"You still can't fly, though," Lina observed pointedly.  "MONO 
VOLT!"

A snapping arc of electricity streaked from the sorceress's 
outstretched palms.  Gally dodged with ease, executing a 
backflip which was almost lazy.

Lina bit back a curse.  The Ray Wing took up too much energy 
for her to cast really powerful spells while she used it, and 
Gally was freakishly nimble.  She had to move into better 
range if she wanted a chance to hit her with these mid-level 
spells.  Lina drifted closer to the ground.  "FREEZE ARROW!" 
she yelled, launching a lance of ice towards her foe.

"Come on, Inverse!"  Gally spat as she evaded the spell with 
contemptuous ease.  "Show me your power!  Make it a fight, you 
brat!"

'If she thinks I'm going to just land so she can get close to 
me, she's out of her mind,' Lina thought.  She glided towards 
the Battle Angel, still hovering at a safe distance off the 
debris-strewn street.  "BOMB SPRID!"

The fireball-like projectile whistled through the air, curving 
towards Gally even as she dodged.  The leather-clad cyborg 
leaped just as the spell detonated, letting the resulting wave 
of force carry her clear.  Gally extended an arm towards Lina.  
"Missile-Bees!" she growled.

"What the...?" 

A swarm of metallic insects streaked from tiny launchers on 
Gally's armored body.  Lina twisted and turned to try to keep 
track of them as they buzzed in blinding streaks through the 
air, weaving an impossibly dizzying pattern around her.  
Without warning, one of the bee-like robots plunged at her, 
exploding against the Ray Wing's shield with startling force.

"Yes!" Gally hissed.  She took off, her cybernetic legs 
churning in a blur.  She leaped off the rusted wreck of a 
capsized bus, and in mid-air she drew what looked like a metal 
bar from the behind her back.  With a single sharp flick of 
the wrist, the bar split, revealing itself to be an oversized 
butterfly knife that used Gally's razor-keen Damascus blade 
for an edge.  She bounced off the side of a building, angling 
herself in a perfect vector to intercept Lina Inverse.

"Aaak!" Lina shrieked.  "DIEM WING!" A blast of wind caught 
Gally mid-leap, barely deflecting her from a collision with 
Lina.  The sorceress tried to gain some altitude and get out 
of Gally's jumping range...

Another Missile-Bee exploded against her Ray Wing as she tried 
to climb.  Lina could feel the spell threatening to fall.  The 
swarm wouldn't let her go any higher. She turned on the juice, 
trying to out-strip her enemy with pure speed.

She didn't have a chance.  Gally hurtled towards her once 
more, Damascus blade reared back to strike.  "Yes!" she 
shrieked.  "This is it!  This is why I fight!"

"BURST RONDO!" A spray of tiny fireballs streaked from Lina's 
open palm, each exploding in a burst of ruby-red light.  The 
little projectiles ripped at Gally's trenchcoat but weren't 
powerful enough to truly damage the metal body underneath.  
Lina swooped under Gally's fierce blow.

"This is what I crave!" Gally cried, manic joy blazing in her 
eyes.  "This sensation!  This joy that only comes in the heat 
of battle!"  She ricocheted off the remains of a brick 
apartment building and plunged towards Lina again.  

"FLARE BIT!" Lina launched a storm of glowing missiles 
towards Gally, pummeling the Hunter-Warrior with magical 
energy.  The attack barely seemed to faze her.  

"Burn it all away!" Gally howled.  "Burn it until it all turns 
white!"  She leaped again, her deadly blade carving through 
the weakened Ray Wing in a shower of sparks.  The whisper-keen 
edge sliced a chunk off Lina's cape.

'She's nuts!"  Lina thought desperately.  Several more 
Missile-Bees dive-bombed her with explosive fury.  'I'm gonna 
get wasted at this rate!'

Lina wavered in her flight, the power from her Ray Wing all 
but drained.  She gathered her strength for one last burst of 
speed.  Gally ran like greased lightning along the cratered 
asphalt, readying herself for another leap at her airborne 
foe.

Lina reached to her belt and threw a knife at her.

If Gally had simply let the little blade hit, it would have 
bounced harmlessly off the armor of her cybernetic body.  But 
in the heat of battle, with her reflexes strung as taut as 
high-tensile wire, she dodged out of the path of the miniscule 
weapon, and let it bury its point in the pulverized asphalt at 
her feet.

"SHADOW SNAP!" Lina called, then took off like an arrow.

The small knife "caught" the cyborg by her shadow like an 
unbreakable claw.  The Shadow Snap arrested Gally's movement 
completely, killing all her momentum in a fraction of a 
second.  The effect of going from almost two hundred miles an 
hour to a dead stop was every bit as bad as colliding with a 
steel wall.  The Battle Angel almost passed out from the 
shock.  Her Damascus blade tumbled from her grasp, clattering 
away down the street.

Lina streaked away, out of sight.

Her mobility was her only defense against Lina's magic, Gally 
knew.  She mentally commanded the Missile-Bees to swarm after 
her foe and detonate - hopefully, they'd buy her a little 
time.  She pivoted and clutched the knife's grip, desperately 
trying to pull the weapon out of her shadow.  In spite of her 
prodigious strength, the little weapon didn't budge.  Gally's 
cybernetic heart pounded frantically.

Since she couldn't pull the knife out, she tried a different 
tactic.  Gally reared back and drove the heel of her palm into 
the hilt of the weapon, striking like a piledriver.  The force 
of the blow drove the small dagger deep into the asphalt and 
into the earth below.  The moment the knife disappeared from 
view, the spell was broken, and Gally was free to move again.

'Inverse...' she thought frantically.  'Where is she?'  She 
stretched out with her enhanced senses, scanning for any sign 
of her foe.

From far in the distance, her amplified hearing picked up the 
voice. "Darkness from twilight..."

Computer-assisted tracking locked onto the sound in a 
heartbeat, pinpointing Lina's location.  Gally grinned like a 
vision from Hell.  'Here it comes!' she thought triumphantly.  
'I knew it!  You think you can hit me with your damned Dragon 
Slave...'

"Crimson blood..."

"But you don't know..." Gally snarled aloud as her legs began 
to move.

"...that flows..."

"...just how fast..."

"...buried in the..."

"...I REALLY AM!" 

Asphalt shattered and concrete exploded under the force of 
Gally's feet as she tore like a bullet through across the 
city.  A plume of pulverized stone erupted behind her as she 
ran.  What few panes of glass remained intact shattered as a 
pressure wake spread out behind the cyborg.  

Lina saw her coming.  'She's was holding back her speed, just 
for this!' she thought.  'Man, she's really hauling... if I 
don't time this right, I'm history!'  Her chant continued.  
"...flow of time; in thy great name..."

The air itself shrieked in protest as the Battle Angel roared 
towards her target.  It was clear to everyone watching that 
Lina would never finish the spell before Gally reached her.  

"...I pledge myself to... DIL BRANDO!"

The Dil Brando, or the Explosive Array, was one of the first 
spells Lina had ever mastered, and she could snap it off in 
less than the time it took a hummingbird to beat its wing.  
The spell created a circle of force which exploded upwards, 
launching the targets through the air.  The damage it 
inflicted was negligible, certainly not enough to threaten a 
mechanized powerhouse like Gally.

But that didn't matter.  The explosion caught Gally in the 
midst of her headlong charge and sent her arcing through the 
sky in a steep trajectory.  Which meant that Lina could 
predict exactly where the cyborg would land.

Raw power coursed through Lina's body.  She raised her hands 
above her head and channeled the magic to her will.  
"DYNASTO..."

A pentagram of surging electricity blazed into existence 
around Gally's plummeting form.  The writhing bolts of power 
lanced through her metallic body.  The cyborg convulsed 
uncontrollably, rattling like a doll in the grip of lightning.

"...BRASS!" Lina yelled, finishing the spell with a fist-
pounding gesture.

A tremendous bolt of lightning ripped through the air, 
hammering its way into the center of the pentagram like a 
freight train.  Gally, unable to dodge or defend herself, 
screamed as the spell lit up every circuit, fiber, and cell in 
her cybernetic body.

As the spell dissipated, Gally's charred body clattered off 
the smoldering surface of the street.  Son Goku administered 
the ten-count over the Battle Angel's prone form, and the 
fight was over.

"WHAT a FIGHT!" belted Hiroshi as the UltraDome filled with 
manic applause.

"It looks like Gally's new body wasn't quite enough to save 
her this time," Daisuke said. 

Lina Inverse made her way over to the smoking circle left in 
the wake of the Dynasto Brass, trying not to let her knees 
tremble from exhaustion.  The Battle Angel lay face-first on 
the blackened stone, her body sparking intermittently.  'Did I 
overdo it?' Lina wondered as Gally remained motionless.  'I 
don't think my healing spells will work on her...'

Gally's fingers twitched slightly, and she let out a low 
groan.  

"Hey," Lina said.  "You okay?"

The Hunter-Warrior slowly rolled over onto her back so she 
could look up at the sorceress.  "You never... intended... to 
use... the Dragon Slave..."

Lina spread her hands and tried to look innocent.  "Nope.  The 
doctor ordered me to cut down," she quipped. 

"Heh... I fell for it," Gally chuckled.  Her self-repair 
systems were struggling to restore power.  She gathered her 
will, and drew herself gingerly to her feet.  "That trick... 
won't work on me twice," she warned.

"Next time, I'll use a different one!  What kind of magician 
doesn't have a few good tricks up her sleeve, eh?" Lina tugged 
at the fabric of her sleeve and winked.

"Next time..." Gally croaked.

"Well, if there IS a next time..."

Lina and Gally looked around in surprise at the sound of 
Controversial Jack's voice.  An UltraPod camera hovered 
towards them, its anti-grav engine humming softly.  From a 
projector on the surface of the hardy mechanism, a full-sized 
hologram of Jack Lysias (and the impeccable Mr. Duck) 
flickered into being.

"What do you mean, Jack?" Lina asked.

"Inverse - great fight!" Jack congratulated her.  "That finish 
was sweet, and, dare I say it, funky-dope! You're the show-
stopper, girl."

"Naturally." Lina basked smugly.

The hologram turned its head.  "But you, Gally..." Jack 
clicked his tongue.  "Look, I like you, kid.  You got a lot of 
spirit.  And the new body?  Very nice.  Robot bugs are cool, I 
always say.  But you've been deadweight in this league for a 
long time.  And today, you lost."

"Deadweight?" Gally snapped back indignantly.  "Look, 
mister..."

"Now, now, it's nothing personal," Jack interrupted.  "But YOU 
know my boss.  She gets antsy about fighters who don't 
produce.  It's a dog-eat-dog, what-have-you-done-for-me-lately 
kind of world in sports entertainment.  You're going to have 
to prove that you've got what it takes to win in this 
league... or you're out of here, Angel."

"Prove?" Gally narrowed her eyes.  "How?"

"GLAD you asked!" Jack chimed.  "Ladies and gents, as your 
head booker I am proud to announce a super-special Omega fight 
next week at Ultra Reboot!  It's a no-holds-barred brawl to 
the finish... and the stipulation is that the Loser Leaves Ultra!  
Gally old gal, it's time to put up or shut up."

"A Loser Leaves Ultra fight?" Gally drew a hissing breath.  
"Who's my opponent?"

Jack wagged his finger.  "All in good time, my dear, all in 
good time.  You just concentrate on getting yourself lubed up 
and prepped to pop.  Because next week, you'll..."

"I'll be ready!" Gally interrupted, her voice tight and 
intense.  She didn't seem angry - in fact, her eyes glittered 
with feverish joy.  "The only battle worth a damn is one where 
you put it all on the line.  I don't care who you put up 
against me.  Next week, I'm going to win... or die trying!"

"That's the spirit!" Jack clapped his hands.  "I knew we could 
count on you.  Hiroshi, Daisuke... back to you, boys!"

"How about THAT, folks?" Hiroshi addressed the noisy throng as 
the slab-like monitors of the UltraTron faded to black.  
"Gally's staking everything - and I mean EVERYthing - on next 
week's match against a yet-to-be-named opponent!  And you 
heard it here first!  What do you think of that, Dai?"

"I wonder how serious she is about that 'die trying' part?" 
Daisuke mused uncertainly.

"There's only one way to find out!  Next week on Ultra Reboot, 
you'll have your answer!  Folks, you'll never forgive 
yourselves if you miss it!"

"Er... right," Daisuke muttered.  "We're going to take a break 
here, ladies and gentlemen."

"We'll be back in the Dome for the next brawl!" Hiroshi 
promised.  "So stay tuned!"

- - - - - 

Sephiroth smiled to himself and closed his eyes, gathering his 
energy to form the gate.  The task ahead of him would 
assuredly be a simple one, especially in light of his glorious 
majesty and unmistakable beauty. Once he had the Tendou girl 
eating out of the palm of his hand, it would be child's play 
to convince her to book the fight he desired.  She would 
suspect nothing, not when she was helplessly basking in the 
radiance of his infinite charm.  

It also helped that B-ko was not around - it was possible that 
she would react the wrong way to this ploy.  

The One-Winged Angel folded time and space around him, and 
materialized in a lushly-furnished office, directly in front 
of Tendou Nabiki.

She seemed somewhat astonished by his presence.  He executed a 
gallant bow before her.

"Have no fear, my lady," he assured her in a silky-smooth 
voice.  "This is merely a visit between friends.  Though cruel 
fortune has set us in opposite camps for the nonce, it has 
never been my desire to see you harmed.  How could I wish ill 
towards one so lovely?"

"Er..." Nabiki hazarded.

He unbent from his bow, and from behind his back he withdrew a 
single pristine rose, as red as sunset.  "A token of my 
esteem," he said.  "Though it is a poor gesture, I admit.  A 
mere flower like this could never hope to match..."

"...The beauty of my eyes," Nabiki finished for him in an 
amused voice.  "So I've been told.  Just a moment before you 
got here, in fact."

Sephiroth furrowed his brow slightly, nonplussed.  Nabiki 
raised a finger and pointed over the Son of Jenova's shoulder.  
He turned his head and glanced behind him.

Standing roughly a foot to his back was Dark Schneider, 
immaculately groomed and dressed to the nines, a red rose held 
between his thumb and forefinger.  The sorcerer looked 
distinctly peeved.

"Oh," Sephiroth said, refusing to let his composure slip.  
"Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Schneider replied with 
restrained irritation.  "Have you no shred of manners, 
Sephiroth?  The lady and I were in the middle of a 
conversation before you barged in."

"No doubt a woman of Tendou-sama's taste and refinement would 
prefer the company of one such as myself over that of a 
boorish lout like you," Sephiroth asserted with dignity.

"A jest, surely," Schneider responded.  With a graceful waltz-
step, he eased around from behind Sephiroth and drew close to 
Nabiki.  "My dear, would you not dismiss this knave so we 
might share one another's company in private?"

"This man's pate is clearly addled," Sephiroth addressed 
Nabiki as well, cranking up the charisma another notch.  "He 
lacks the depth of intellect to appreciate beauty such as 
yours.  Have done with him, so we may speak freely."

"Yes, well..." Nabiki began.

"Pay him no mind," Darshuu interrupted in a satiny voice.  
"Did you know that the gleam in your eyes puts to shame the 
twinkling of the stars above?"

"The finest silks," Sephiroth volleyed, "would seem as coarse 
as dry mortar when matched against the smoothness of your 
skin."

"The shine of your hair! It makes me believe the sun was made 
just so it might beam its rays upon you!" 

"The lilting melody of your voice!  What nightingale could 
hear it and not be shamed to silence forever?"

Nabiki crossed her arms and looked back and forth between 
them, distinctly unimpressed.  The two long-haired bishonen 
redoubled their efforts.

"...all my life, I have longed to meet..."

"...is this but a dream?  If so, I wish never to awaken..."

"...if you seem tired, it is because you have been running 
through my head..."

"...you complete me!..."

"...you had me at 'hello'..."

"...your eyes - how they twinkle, your dimples - how merry..."

"...your bosom calls to mind the ripest..."

"Gentlemen," Nabiki cut in, her tone saturated with ennui.  "I 
think we need to cut this short.  If either of you have 
something significant to say..."

"Only this," Schneider said in a husky voice.  "When I gaze 
into your eyes, Tendou Nabiki, I see a woman with a net worth 
beyond my wildest dreams."

The look of sardonic boredom melted instantly from Nabiki's 
face, and her eyes widened.  "Oh," she gasped, surprised.

'Curse you,' Sephiroth thought angrily.  'Two can play at that 
game, Dark Schneider.'  "Of such profound beauty is your 
portfolio... it brings a golden tear of joy to my eye."

Schneider flashed him a wrathful glare, but then turned back 
to Nabiki.  "How could I resist your hostile takeover of my 
heart?"

Nabiki bit her lip and fidgeted with her collar.  "Now really, 
boys..."

Sephiroth took her hand gently in his.  "Your sweet embrace is 
all the capital I could ever need."

"Invest in me," Darshuu whispered, caressing her other hand.  
"Think of the returns I could bring you..."

"The sensual curves of your body," Sephiroth countered, "are 
like the chart of a stock as it goes through the roof..."

"To live without you, my heart would break like a splitting 
share..."

Nabiki blushed and batted her eyes.  "You really mean it?"

A hideous noise raked through the sultry atmosphere of the 
office.

Imagine, for a moment, that appalling sound that a cat makes 
when its tail is slammed in the door.  Now call to mind the 
truly nerve-rattling sound that a handful of knives makes when 
scraped across the surface of a chalkboard.  Picture, if you 
can, what would happen if those two sounds were to mate and 
produce a child.  The sound they birthed would be eerily 
similar to the brain-paralyzing din of Controversial Jack 
playing the violin.

Sephiroth and Schneider whirled as one towards the intruding 
Jack.  "WHAT is the meaning of this?" they barked in unison, 
then glared daggers at one another.

Nabiki snapped out of her trance, then pulled her hands free 
and retreated immediately to the corner of the office, 
flustered and chagrined.

"I thought you boys could use a little romantic music for this 
occasion!"  Jack exclaimed cheerily.  "Good idea, huh?"

"Of course not, you buffoon," Sephiroth spat.

"I'm so sorry!  My apologies... I will play for you: 'My 
Mistake.' "  The spiky-haired madman began to saw at the 
strings of his poor abused violin once more, bellowing 
tunelessly at the top of his lungs.  "My mistaaake!  I have 
made my mistaaaake!  What a dreadful mistaaaake!  This mistake 
that I maaaaaake!..."

"Stop that!" Schneider commanded.  

Nabiki faced away from the men in her office and fussed 
angrily with her clothes and hair.  'Damn it, what the hell 
got into me?' she thought furiously.

"You don't like it?" Jack asked, a hurt look on his face.

"Feh."  Sephiroth scowled at Ultra's head booker.  "You are an 
interfering pest, Jack Lysias."

"As are you, Sephiroth," Dark Schneider growled.  "What 
business do you have in here?  Your presence is unwelcome, you 
pretentious cretin."

"I go where I wish," Sephiroth shot back.  "You should know 
better than to stand in my way, fool."

"Boys, boys, boys," Jack admonished, waving his violin bow 
about.  "Such anger!  Such hostility!  I like it!  And what's 
more, the fans like it.  But it doesn't do us any good if they 
can't see it, now does it?"

"Are you proposing something?" Darshuu asked.

"A special Omega grudge match!" Jack enthused.  "How about 
it?"

"When?"

Jack made a broad gesture.  "You're both here, and you both 
hate each others' guts!  Why not make it tonight?  We can slip 
you in sometime before the last fight.  It can be a special 
showdown between you two Casanovas.  And the winner gets to go 
on a date with..."

"NOT on your LIFE, Jack," Nabiki warned from the corner, her 
voice full of the promise of bloody murder.

"...er," Jack floundered momentarily.  "A date... with Mr. 
Duck!" 

>Squeak, squeak,< Mr. Duck said bashfully.

"You can keep your foolish date," Dark Schneider replied 
coldly.  "But I will crush this arrogant pretender any time 
you like.  I agree."

Sephiroth closed his eyes and smiled confidently.  "As do I.  
Inform me when the time is nigh.  Until then..."  With a 
wrenching twist of the dimensional fabric, Sephiroth called a 
portal into being.  He stepped through the fissure and was 
gone.

"Such a showoff," Schneider scoffed.  He turned and bowed to 
Nabiki.  "Ms. Tendou, until we next meet..."  He tossed her 
the red rose, then swept out of the office.  

"Um..." Jack muttered.  "Sorry about that date thing.  Guess I 
got a little carried away.  Heh.  And I know that a spur-of-
the-moment Omega match is going to be kinda expensive, but I 
figured that..."

"It's all right, Jack," Nabiki said quietly.  "I'm glad you 
came when you did."  That had been a close call - too close.  
She wasn't sure what had really happened, but she got the 
distinct feeling that she had just dodged a bullet... perhaps 
even two.  

"No problem, boss-lady," Jack said brightly.  "So what was 
that all about?  How come those two fruit-nuts were puttin' 
the mack on you?"

"I don't know," Nabiki said tightly.  Tarou had been right - 
she was in a lot more danger than she'd cared to admit.  "I 
don't like it, though.  Not one bit."

- - - - -

"And we're back, folks!" Hiroshi announced to the crowd in the 
UltraDome.  "We've got more action for you right here in the 
UltraDome... another knock-down drag-out Lambda imbroglio!"  

Daisuke raised an eyebrow at his partner.  "Yes... you could 
call it that."

"First up, we've got your very own Gamma co-champs, ready to 
tag-team their way to glory tonight.  Ladies and gentlemen, I 
am proud to give you the Anything-Goes Team of Saotome Ranma 
and Tendou Akane!"

The crowd greeted the two young fighters with warm adulation, 
though not quite with the same raw enthusiasm they'd brought 
to bear for Tifa and Bean.  Ranma and Akane jogged down the 
ramp, waving at the audience cheerfully.  The most notable 
thing about their entrance was that Akane carried a brown 
paper bag tucked under her arm, stuffed with something bulky.

She glanced down at the bag, vaguely displeased.  "You sure we 
need this, Ranma?"

"I don't think we will," the pig-tailed martial artist 
responded.  "But it never hurts to have a backup plan.  I 
mean, if you're stuck in the ring or somethin' and can't reach 
me to tag out..."

"Why do you assume I'M going to be the one in trouble?" Akane 
demanded hotly.

Ranma made a placating gesture.  "I'm just sayin', Akane!  
Geez, don't get all bent outta shape."

"And facing the Gamma champs tonight," Hiroshi continued over 
the loudspeakers,  "we have a pair that needs no 
introduction... since they do QUITE enough introducing on 
their own!  Folks, it's the current Lambda belt-holders... 
Team Samurai!"

Greeted by a thunderous eruption of boos, Team Samurai strode 
through the archway.  The samurai Haohmaru, unmistakable with 
his chaotic shock of black spiny hair, gulped down the remains 
of a super-sized Ultra Soda.  He addressed the crowd, but he 
needed no microphone.  Even the racket of the UltraDome was 
not enough to drown out his mighty voice.

"ENLIGHTENMENT!" Haohmaru bellowed. "AND SO THEY CAME, THE 
LEGENDARY MASTER OF THE BLADE AND HIS SOMEWHAT-LESS-LEGENDARY 
DISCIPLE, STRIDING LIKE EARTHBOUND GODS INTO THE FURIOUS HEART 
OF BATTLE!"

"Enlightenment!" echoed Kuno Tatewaki, garbed in his 
traditional blue attire.  His voice was proud and bold, but he 
still lacked the sheer decibel-cranking lung capacity of his 
master.  "Truly, have a pair of warriors so fine ever deigned 
to tread the crude earth?  I say thee, nay!"

"AND LO!  DID THEIR FOES TREMBLE IN AWE OF THEIR MAJESTIC 
PRESENCE!"

Akane and Ranma regarded each other for a moment.  "Are you 
tremblin'?" Ranma queried.

"Nope," she replied.  "Just trying to keep from throwing up."

"Hey Kuno, ya big dope!" Ranma shouted.  "I'm glad you had the 
guts to show up.  Those belts of yours are gonna look pretty 
sharp on us!"  

"Thou art both ignorant and impudent, yonder wretch!" Kuno 
sallied back.  "'Tis your golden belts at stake in this clash 
tonight, not ours!"

"Say WHAT?" Akane cried indignantly.  "I thought that Jack 
said..."

"INTO OUR HANDS SHALL FALL YOUR CHAMPIONSHIP BELTS, FOOLS! I 
CALL YOU THIS ONCE, TWICE, AND THREE TIMES - FOOLS, FOOLS, 
FOOLS!"

"Actually, that totaled up to four times," Daisuke noted.

"And it seems there's some confusion about what's on the line 
in this fight," Hiroshi announced.  "Which belts are up for 
grabs?"

"Well, we'd better not start until this gets figured out," 
Daisuke suggested.  He turned to face the control booth.  
"Hey, Jack!  You mind clearing this up for us?"

Jack's grinning face immediately flickered onto the UltraTron 
monitors.  "Well gosh, folks.  Is there every egg on MY face 
tonight.  As much as I love to see a title on the line, it 
just doesn't seem like there's room for two belts on one 
fighter's waist!"

"Except maybe yours," Ranma teased Akane.  She socked him in 
the arm.

"So, I guess this one's gonna be a non-title fight," Jack said 
sadly.  The crowd peppered him with general shouts of 
disapproval.  "BUT," he continued, "I think we can arrange to 
put something almost as good on the line!"

"What's that mean?" Hiroshi asked.

"The winner of this fight gets... A DOUGHNUT!" Jack cried 
joyously.  He thrust a savory-looking confection into view, 
letting the audience get a mouth-watering view of its 
delectable sprinkles and scrumptious glaze.  The crowd let out 
a collective 'Mmmm' in appreciation.

"Shouldn't it be TWO doughnuts?" Hiroshi challenged.  "Since 
this is a tag-team battle?"

"You drive a hard bargain, kid," Jack replied.  "But I see 
your point.  Two doughnuts it is.  To the winners go the 
spoils, guys."

"That's silly," Akane griped.

"Can I have yours, if you don't want it?" Ranma asked eagerly.

"Oh, shut up."

"All right," Hiroshi said.  "Now that we've got that all 
sorted out... let's get down to business!"

][ LAMBDA MATCH #2 - WINNER-TAKES-DOUGHNUTS
][ Team Samurai vs. The Anything-Goes Team
][ FIGHT!

"Great Master!  Allow me the honor of fighting first!" Kuno 
implored his master.

"VERY WELL, MY DISCIPLE," Haohmaru assented graciously.  "GO 
FORTH, AND LET THE VERMIN FEEL THE STING OF SWORDMASTERY UPON 
THEIR UNWORTHWHILE HIDES!"

"Forgive my presumptuousness!" Kuno said with a bow, then 
climbed into the ring.

"Okay, you ought to be able to take him," Ranma told his 
partner, patting her on the back.  "Let him have it!"

"Right!"  The short-haired girl saluted her foe.  
"Upperclassman Kuno... bring it on!"

"In sooth... is this the fair Tendou Akane I see before me?" 
Kuno queried with a grand sweep of his wooden bokken.  "What 
fates hath conspired to bring us together 'pon this noble 
field of battle?"

"Excuse me?" Akane asked, incredulous.  "You DID know you were 
going to be fighting us, didn't you?"

"Alas!" Kuno lamented.  "T'was the dearest hope in mine heart 
that thou had wrenched thyself free of the sinister clutches 
of that vilest of all wretches, the accursed Saotome!  But 
soft... is this moment not a chance granted unto us by the 
gods themselves?  For here we are, together!  As it was 
destined to be!"

"Would you just shut up and fight?"  Akane lunged forward and 
kicked him in the head.  Kuno staggered backwards from the 
force of the blow, but quickly righted himself.

"Ah!  Now thy intent comes clear!" Kuno struck a contemplative 
pose, then produced a fan from his robe and unfurled it.  
"Thou dost seek to prove thyself worthy.  Very well: if the 
fair Akane emerges triumphant in this noble clash, I shall 
grant her the honor... of a date!"

"Oh, please! Don't you ever give up?" Akane snarled.  She 
punched him in the face.

"Such joy!  Strike as thou would!" Kuno encouraged.  "For the 
sake of our love, I shall lose with all my might!"

"STUDENT!" bellowed Haohmaru indignantly.  "UTTER NOT SUCH 
IGNOMIOUS DRIVEL!"

"Forgive me, master!" Kuno implored.  "But how could I mar 
such loveliness?"

Deeply offended, Akane grabbed him by the shoulders and spun 
him around to face his corner.  She planted her foot on his 
butt and shoved him hard towards his master.  "If you won't 
fight me, send in someone who will, you dolt!"

"Akane!" Ranma smacked his forehead with his hand.  "Just beat 
the heck out of Kuno and call it a day, why don't you?  It 
ain't your fault if he wants to lie down and take it!"

"No, Ranma!" Akane bit back.  "I'm not out here to beat up a 
punching bag, you know!  I'm a real fighter, and I'll prove 
it!"

Haohmaru tagged his partner with a more forceful smack than 
was strictly required.  "AND SO IT CAME TO PASS THAT THE GREAT 
HAOHMARU EXCHANGED A TAG WITH HIS SOMEWHAT MISGUIDED PUPIL.  
STEPPED FORTH DID HE INTO THE RING, PREPARED TO FIGHT TO THE 
LAST!  THOUGH HIS CHALLENGER WAS INDEED AN ADORABLE AND CUTE 
LITTLE MOPPET..."

"Hey!" 

"...MOPPETS OF EVEN GREATER CUTENESS AND MORE EXTREME 
ADORABILITY HAD FALLEN BEFORE HIS FLASHING BLADE IN THE PAST!  
LIKE THE TRUE WARRIOR HE WAS, INVINCIBLE HAOHMARU WOULD SHOW 
NO MERCY!  AND THUS, THE BATTLE WAS JOINED!"

With that, he lunged forth with his sword held high, and 
opened with a savage overhead strike towards Akane's head.

When faced with an attack by a sword-wielding foe, a bare-
handed martial artist generally has one of two options.  The 
most basic (and perhaps wisest) choice is to attempt to dodge 
the blade.  However, a very talented warrior can also try a 
more spectacular defense: the blade catch.  This is a very 
impressive maneuver, which involves clapping both hands 
together on either side of the sword in mid-strike, 
imprisoning the weapon in the fighter's grasp.  This move is 
extremely effective when successful, setting up disarming or 
kicking counterattacks very nicely.

Of course, if you miss your timing, your skull pays the price.  
And this is exactly what happened to Akane.

"Ow..." she gasped as the blunted sword plowed into her 
cranium.

"AND ANOTHER!" Haohmaru announced.  He reared back and let fly 
with a crushing strike to Akane's ribs, doubling the Tendou 
girl over in sheer agony.  

"ONCE MORE!"  This time, Haohmaru swept his sword in a rising 
attack, catching Akane directly under the chin.  The Tendou 
girl left her feet with pained cry, tumbling across the mat 
like a tennis ball.  

Fortunately, she landed in her corner.  "Akane!" Ranma 
shouted.  "Are you okay?"

"...ugh..." she groaned.

"Damn it!" Ranma swore.  He helped her to her feet.  She was 
extremely dizzy and in no shape to fight, but it looked like 
she'd recover.  

"Oh, such tragedy!" Kuno wept as Ranma checked over Akane for 
injuries.  "Master... oh, Master!  Cruel indeed is the path of 
the true samurai!"

"AND THUS, IT CAME TO PASS," Haohmaru chronicled. 
"ENLIGHTENMENT WAS ACHIEVED!  ONCE MORE DID HE EMERGE 
VICTORIOUS, TRULY THE GREATEST SWORDSMAN OF ANY AGE.  
DOWN UPON HIS FOE DID THE LEGENDARY HAOHMARU LAY THE 
ALL-MIGHTY SMACK!  AS UNTO A STEPCHILD OF FLAME-RED 
HAIR DID HE DELIVER A BEATING TO HER!"

"Buddy," Ranma snarled dangerously, "you're gonna wish you 
never crawled outta the dark ages."

"FORTH CAME THE FALLEN MAID'S PARAMOUR," the spiky-haired 
samurai orated.  "ONCE MORE, THE BATTLE WAS JOINED!  SENPU-
RETSU-ZAN!"  With that, he rent the air with his sword and 
called forth a miniature tornado, which whirled across the 
ring towards Ranma.

The nimble young fighter leaped out of the path of the small 
storm.  "Moko-Takabisha!" he yelled, letting fly with a 
glowing blast of ki-energy.  

Haohmaru grunted as he intercepted the attack with his sword.  
He pushed off from the with powerful legs, closing the 
distance between himself and his adversary in a single mighty 
leap.  "RESSHIN-ZAN!" he thundered, his sword pulsing with ki-
energy.

Ranma barely rolled aside as the samurai planted his sword in 
the mat with pulverizing force.  The pig-tailed martial artist 
lashed out with a kicking combination while the swordsman 
recovered from the charge, but Haohmaru absorbed the damage in 
stride.

"TASTE THE STEEL OF A TRUE SAMURAI!" Haohmaru advanced, his 
flashing sword crisscrossing through the air around Ranma.  
The sprightly martial artist dodged and evaded each of the 
blows, but Haohmaru had a distinct reach advantage. Ranma 
backed off, searching for an opening.

"SHIPPU-KOGETSU-ZAN!" Haohmaru hollered.  He suddenly dashed 
forward with startling speed, catching Ranma off-balance.  The 
samurai executed his famous Crescent Moon Slash, a rising 
circular attack with the blade at full extension.  The hit 
caught Ranma in the chest and sent him hurtling towards the 
ropes.

Ranma willed away the pain and took full advantage of his 
momentum.  He threw himself towards the edge of the ring with 
all his might, stretching the flexible ropes to their limit.  
As he rode the recoil like a bolt from a crossbow, the young 
warrior gathered his ki into a powerful strike.  "Shooting 
Star Kick!" 

It was a version of the same attack he had once used to defeat 
Pantyhose Tarou's monstrous form.  Haohmaru managed to catch 
some of the impact with the guard of his sword, but the sheer 
force of the blow still knocked him clear across the ring.  
His spiky head plowed into the turnbuckle with a noisy thud.  
Ranma landed, a little shakily, breathing hard.

Haohmaru propped himself up on the sword, his arms quivering 
slightly with the effort.  A broad smile lit his face.  
"TRULY, IT IS THE GREATEST OF PRIVILEGES TO FACE A WORTHY FOE!  
A FIGHTER WHO CAN WITHSTAND THE PROVERBIAL LICKING AND YET 
COURAGEOUSLY PERSIST IN HIS TICKING!  COME FORTH, SAOTOME 
RANMA, AND LET US SEE WHAT MANNER OF MAN YOU ARE!"	

"I'm twice the man you are, even when I'm a woman!" Ranma 
retorted gamely.  He danced forth to engage his opponent 
again.

Haohmaru's sword thrashed the air, whistling within a hair's 
breadth of Ranma's head.  'Gotta do something about that 
reach,' Ranma thought.  'If I can get in real close, he can't 
swing that piece of tin at me!'

The pig-tailed fighter executed a risky dive underneath 
Haohmaru's sweeping katana, shifting his weight forward until 
he was practically pressed up against the samurai's muscular 
body.  Haohmaru tried to pull back, but Ranma kept with him, 
sticking to him like a second shadow.  He landed several sharp 
blows to Haohmaru's gut, then rammed an elbow into his temple.

The samurai's resiliency surprised him.  With unexpected 
speed, Haohmaru drew forth his heavy sake jug and clocked the 
young Saotome in the skull.  Ranma spun around from the blow, 
his vision coming momentarily unfocused.

The hedgehog-haired swordsman wrapped a meaty forearm around 
Ranma's neck.  "NOW, LET US PUT YOUR SO-CALLED MANLINESS TO 
THE TEST!"  With that, he popped the stopper of his bottle and 
dumped roughly a pint of potent rice wine down Ranma's throat. 

"Ranma!" Akane shouted, aghast.

The samurai released his grip on his adversary, then took a 
long pull from his jug.  "AAAH!  IS IT NOT A MANDATE OF HEAVEN 
THAT A TRUE MAN BE ABLE TO SLAM DOWN THE BOOZE?"

Hiroshi gripped his microphone.  "A surprising move by 
Haohmaru!" he shouted excitedly.  "Ranma isn't much of a 
drinker... how will he take this development?"

"Not well, I expect," Daisuke predicted darkly.

The pig-tailed fighter swayed like a noodle in the wind.  His 
eyes glazed over, and a goofy smile crept sloppily across his 
face.  With a hiccup, he oozed into what appeared to be a sort 
of fighting pose.  "How'bout... shum Drunk-Fu, ya... >hic< big 
dummy!"

"DRUNK-FU!" Hiroshi howled joyously.  "The Drunken Fist style 
of martial arts!  It employs the unpredictable and erratic 
moves of an inebriated drunkard to devastating effect!  
Additionally, alcohol can improve the fighter's suppleness and 
increase his threshold for pain!  Can Ranma pull this one out 
after all?"

Ranma let out a belch, crossed his eyes, and plopped down on 
his ass.  

"Don't think so," Daisuke said.

"It seems," Hiroshi mused philosophically, "that a ship can 
float on the water, but it can also sink."

"And Ranma," Daisuke observed, "is definitely sunk."

"Ranma!" Akane shouted. Her partner had the small fortune to 
land against the ropes, so he wasn't officially down on the 
mat, but he was clearly not getting back up any time soon. 
"Get up!  Come over here and tag me!"

The plastered young fighter giggled and waved a wobbly hand at 
his partner. "You're... too far.." he laughed.

"Get up, stupid!" she implored.

But Ranma was lost.  His eyes were tracking some invisible 
object which seemed to be encircling his head.  He pointed in 
a vaguely spiraling fashion.  "Look, 'kane!  Flyin' piggies!" 
He snorted in laughter and began to sing.  "P-P-P-P-Chan!  
He's good for nothin'!"

"HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Haohmaru laughed heartily.  "IN TRUTH, 
THE MANLINESS OF THIS ONE LEAVES MUCH TO BE DESIRED!  NEVER 
SHALL HE BECOME A GENUINE FIGURE OF LEGEND WITH SUCH 
FEEBLENESS OF LIVER!  ALAS, NOW THE FIGHT ENDS.  THE MIGHTY 
HAOHMARU MUST DELIVER THE FINISHING BLOW..."

"Master!" cried Kuno desperately.  "I beg you!  Grant me the 
privilege of smiting this cursed wretch who has so vexed me!"

The samurai scratched his temple thoughtfully.  "INDEED, TO 
SMITE SUCH A PITIFULLY DEFEATED FOE IS AN UNSEEMLY TASK FOR A 
WARRIOR AS GREAT AS MY LEGENDARY SELF.  I SHALL ALLOW MY 
STUDENT TO ATTEND THE FORMALITY OF THE FINAL BLOW!"

"My thanks, Master!" Manly tears of joy streaked down Kuno's 
cheeks.  Haohmaru sheathed his blade, and strode casually over 
to the corner of the ring.

Neither of them noticed Akane scrambling with the paper bag 
she'd brought with her to the fight.  Just as Haohmaru reached 
his disciple and extended his hand to make the tag, she reared 
back to throw a heavy round object with all her might.

"What's that?" Daisuke asked.  "Akane has..."

"...a watermelon?" Hiroshi finished.

Kuno caught sight of the watermelon hurtling towards him, and 
suddenly found himself in the grips of a powerful reflex.  He 
lashed out with his bokken, a human tornado of slashing wood, 
striking dozens of blows in a split second with surgical 
precision.  The watermelon fragmented into a cascade of 
perfectly-cut slices, which showered down into the hands of 
the surprised Ultra fans in the front row.

"Wha..." Kuno gasped, snapping out of his trance.  "A 
watermelon? That technique I learned so long ago..."

"And Haohmaru is down!" Hiroshi shouted.

"He is?" Kuno cast about desperately for his master.

The unsuspecting samurai had been caught in the midst of 
Kuno's watermelon-slicing frenzy, and he'd paid the price.  
His body lay sprawled on the mat, carried halfway across the 
canvas by the force of Kuno's blows.  The referee, returning 
to the ring after a quick trip to the restroom, began to 
administer the count.

"Master!" Kuno wailed.

"But Haohmaru never made the tag!" Hiroshi announced.  "And 
he's not getting up, either!  It looks like this one is over, 
folks... the winners are the Anything-Goes Team of Ranma and 
Akane!"

"Whersh my doughnut?" Ranma slurred, then promptly collapsed 
into a deep sleep.  Akane made her way over to pick up his 
limp form.

"That was a bit of a cheap tactic," Daisuke commented.

"Well, you know Ranma - he's never been shy about taking 
advantage of an opponent's weakness," Hiroshi pointed out.

"True enough."

"Master!" Kuno moaned as he helped Haohmaru to his feet.  "My 
deepest apologies, Master!  'Twas trickery from Saotome which 
caused me to..."

"THAT TECHNIQUE," Haohmaru interrupted, somewhat groggy but 
still speaking at jet-engine volumes.  "WHERE DID YOU LEARN 
THAT, STUDENT?"

"It was a long time ago," Kuno explained.  "I did learn it 
whilst practicing with watermelons, and now when I see one..."

"ENLIGHTENMENT!" Haohmaru belted.  "SUCH A MIGHTY TECHNIQUE, 
AND EVEN ONE AS PERCEPTIVE AS MYSELF DID NOT REALIZE YOU HAD 
IT AT YOUR COMMAND!"

"Master?  But... it only works with watermelon..."

"FEAR NOT, DISCIPLE! ONCE, I KNEW A WARRIOR WHO HAD A SIMILAR 
DIFFICULTY INVOLVING APPLES.  WE SHALL FIND A WAY TO MAKE USE 
OF THIS POWERFUL SKILL OF YOURS!  AND LET ALL THOSE WHO WOULD 
FACE US QUAKE IN SHEER TERROR!"

"Then you aren't angry!?" Kuno asked happily.

"OF COURSE NOT!" Haohmaru replied boisterously.  "WE HAVE 
UNLOCKED MORE OF YOUR HIDDEN STRENGTH!  WHAT PRICE A FEW MINOR 
BRUISES FOR THAT?"

"Then I don't have to spend time on the rack for striking 
you?" the young kendoist inquired hopefully.

"OF COURSE YOU HAVE TO SPEND TIME ON THE RACK!" Haohmaru 
assured him cheerfully.  "COME, STUDENT!  LET US AWAY!"

Kuno slouched after the muscular samurai dejectedly.  "Yes, 
Master..." he muttered.

"There they go," Hiroshi announced.   "Defeated but unbowed, 
and still the Lambda champs."

"The didn't even do the cheating this time," Daisuke noted.

"Stay with us, folks!"  Hiroshi turned to the camera and 
gestured with a thumbs-up.  "We've got more Ultra-violence 
heading your way!"

- - - - - 

Nabiki glanced at the monitor as she watched Kuno and his 
partner leave.  'A new technique for Kuno-baby,' she thought.  
'Wonder how long he and that bozo can hold on to those belts?'

Tonight's festivities were of only marginal concern to her - 
the show seemed to be going well enough, and other matters 
weighed on her mind.  She perched on the edge of Lain's 
workstation and peered at the cyber-genius's monitor.  "Did 
you find that number yet?" she asked.

"Here it is, ma'am," the short-haired teenager said, pointing 
at a string of figures on the screen.

"Good."  Nabiki punched the number into the phone, then 
cradled the receiver with her shoulder to free up her hands.  
She snatched a pen and paper off the desk as she waited 
through the rings.  "Hello?" she said when she heard the voice 
on the line.  "It's Tendou Nabiki."

Lain folded her hands in front of her and listened intently.

"I have a matter I need to discuss with you," Nabiki said.  
"No, not a fight.  I am... in need of a bodyguard.  Tarou?  
He's gone for the moment. Yes, I know.  Yes."

Nabiki tapped her pen thoughtfully.

"So does that mean you're interested?" she asked.  "Good.  
Now, this is what I was paying Tarou," she said, then gestured 
at Lain.  The girl obediently pulled the figure up on the 
monitor, and Nabiki repeated it into the receiver.  "Keeping 
in mind your qualifications, I would say that you merit a 
somewhat higher salary, of course.  Say, about..."

The CEO of Ultra listened as the other party spoke.  Her eyes 
bugged out in shock.  "That... that's THIRTY TIMES what I was 
paying him!" she gagged.  "That's insane!"

She listened a bit more.

"Yes, I KNOW all about your previous job," she grumbled.  
"Look... I was thinking more along the lines of about four 
times Tarou's salary..."

The other party interrupted again.

"Wait a minute!" she moaned.  "That's FORTY times the amount!  
Damn it, we're haggling here!  You're supposed to bring your 
figure down, not up!"

The voice on the other end laughed smugly.

Lain listened to this exchange continue for some time.  She 
tapped nervously at her keyboard and kept track of the numbers 
in her head as Nabiki alternatively wheedled, pleaded, and 
argued with her potential bodyguard.  Finally, they managed to 
come to a settlement.  Nabiki handed the phone back to Lain 
and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Fifteen times what I was paying Tarou," she muttered, 
somewhat in shock.  "Hell... what a nightmare."

"We can afford it," Lain said softly.  She swiveled her flat-
screen monitor so Nabiki could look at the spreadsheet 
displayed on the screen.  "See?  It isn't so bad."

"I guess not," Nabiki said, composing herself once more.  "We 
can cover it easily, but... well, I hate to feel like I'm 
being gouged.  Just a matter of pride.  Never mind - thank 
you, Lain."

The head of Ultra set down her paper and walked away from 
Lain's desk.  Had she looked back, she might have been 
surprised to see the hint of tears glistening at the corners 
hacker genius's eyes.  "I'm sorry," Lain mouthed without a 
sound.  "I'm so sorry."

- - - - -

Hiroshi clicked off his microphone and slumped back in his 
chair, toweling the sweat off his face.  "Phew," he sighed.  
"Halfway over."

"Seems like an awfully long night for some reason," Daisuke 
commented.  "How're you holding up?"

Hiroshi thumped his chest.  "No trouble, man!  One more 
espresso ought to do me."

Daisuke rolled his eyes, but didn't bother to say anything.  
"Looks like we've got Shinji up next.  Have you talked to him 
lately."

"Not really.  He's been out of touch with everybody."

"What about Rei?" Daisuke inquired, trying to make it sound 
casual.

Hiroshi pursed his lips.  "I haven't spoken to her since the 
rescue, actually."

"What?  Why not?"

"Washuu's recommendation," he clarified.  "Bison was using a 
clone of me to help control her mind, you know.  Until they 
get her head back together a little bit, Washuu doesn't want 
Rei to get all confused.  So I'm staying away."

"Geez.  That sucks, man."

"I hate it," Hiroshi admitted.  "But I'd rather have her in 
Washuu's hands than Bison's."

"Washuu isn't exactly governed by a strict ethical code 
herself," Daisuke pointed out, trying to phrase it gently.

"I know," Hiroshi agreed.  "But who else do you suggest?  
Besides, she DID manage to take care of Asuka.  And lord 
knows, that girl's brain was a serious wreck.  I gotta have 
faith that she'll be able to get Rei back to her old self."

"Her old self," Daisuke repeated.  "Hiroshi, I don't want you 
to take this the wrong way... but what is it exactly that you 
see in Rei?"

The hyperactive announcer ran his fingers through his sweat-
soaked hair and considered the question for a few long 
seconds.  Finally, he turned to his partner with an ironic 
look on his face.  "She has a poet's soul, my friend."

"She does?"

Hiroshi just grinned and switched on his microphone.  "AND 
we're BACK!" 

Daisuke fumbled with the switch on his mike.  "Uh... yes.  
Welcome to the... er... second half of the show," he 
stammered.

"My partner is tongue-tied, and rightfully so!" Hiroshi 
trumpeted gleefully.  "Because we have on tap for you an Omega 
match of epic proportions - emphasis on proportions!  And no, 
I'm not talking about Naga.  I'm talking about giant mecha 
action!  An earth-shattering clash of titanium titans straight 
out of the pages of legend!"

"Straight out of something, anyway," Daisuke said, pulling 
himself together.  "The fighters in this match will be Akari 
Shinji and his Evangelion Unit 01 set against newcomer Duo 
Maxwell, the pilot of the Gundam DeathScythe."

"Earlier this season they worked together for the good of 
all," Hiroshi exaggerated slightly.  "But now we're going to 
find out who is the true master of mecha!  Krillin is on hand 
for referee duties... so let's take you to the action!"

The vast monitors of the UltraTron shimmered to life, 
depicting a sweeping vista of an endless red-brown wasteland.  
A crooked snarl of a canyon twisted across the barren 
landscape, jagged and sinewy like the skeleton of a dragon.  
With a whine of tiny turbines, the UltraPod camera soared across 
the lifeless terrain, swooping through the rocky labyrinth 
until it finally settled into position to capture the image of 
a natural arena of stone on the canyon floor.

Krillin stood on the dusty ground, alertly facing the wrong 
direction. The UltraPod floated in place for a few moments, 
then emitted a raspberry-like buzz. Startled, the bald referee 
whirled to face the hovering camera pod.  The red-clad fighter 
dithered for a moment in chagrin, then raised his hand to give 
the cue.

Space rent itself to the will of technology as two immense 
blue portals buzzed open on either side of the semi-circular 
basin, each positioned several dozen meters off the ground.  
The gleaming silver and black Gundam DeathScythe dropped 
through the gateway, thrusters flaring.  Hard earth quaked as 
the great battlesuit landed on its mammoth feet.  Duo Maxwell, 
the cocky pilot of the Gundam, saluted the audience with his 
Beam-Scythe.

"All right!" he boomed over the Gundam's speakers.  "I've been
dyin' to see how tough these Evangelions really are since I
got here!  Shinji, buddy, show me your stuff!"

Evangelion Unit 01 landed in a crouch after emerging through 
its gateway.  The lithe purple mech was taller than the 
Gundam, but it lacked the mass and bulk of Duo's mobile suit.  
The immense figure of the Eva didn't move after it touched 
down, remaining perfectly still in its sprinter's crouch as 
the dust settled around it.

"Okay, I guess you're both here," Krillin noted astutely.  
"So... you know the rules.  Technical foul for destroying the 
world.  Um..." He eyed the motionless form of Akari Shinji's 
Evangelion dubiously.  "You guys are ready?"

Duo's jaunty "yeah!" met with continued silence from Shinji.

"Well," Krillin sighed.  "That wasn't a 'no,' so I guess..."

][ OMEGA MATCH #2
][ Akari Shinji in Evangelion Unit 001 vs. Duo Maxwell in 
   Gundam DeathScythe
][ FIGHT!

Duo brought his Buster Shield up defensively, expecting the 
Eva to launch an attack from its crouch the moment the fight 
began.  To his surprise, the purple mech continued to hold its 
position, unmoving on the canyon floor.  There was something 
strange was going on here, he decided.

The Gundam's sensors indicated the presence of a powerful AT 
Field cocooning the Evangelion, though.  'All right,' he 
thought.  'Let's just see how tough that force field really 
is!'  He jammed the control stick forward, and the Gundam 
lurched into action.

Duo swung the deadly Beam-Scythe for which his Gundam was 
named in a savage slash towards the Eva.  Blinding arcs of 
energy flared and spat from the collision of the weapon and 
the defensive field, filling the canyon with ozone and hot 
particles of plasma.  The young Gundam pilot averted his eyes 
from the glare and studied his sensor readouts with mounting 
astonishment.

'It's not... penetrating at all!' he realized.  'The Beam-
Scythe isn't even making a dent!'

He pulled back, readying his shield once more.  Surely, the 
Eva would counterattack after his first hit failed to inflict 
any damage.  But Shinji remained in his crouch, utterly inert.

Duo glowered at the readouts.  'That little punk... what the 
hell is he doing?'

'What am I doing?' thought Shinji.  His consciousness drifted
aimlessly within the churning LCL fluid inside the Unit 01's
immense chest.  'What purpose is this serving?  I'm using 
this Eva again to fight, but I don't even know why.  Is there 
a reason?  Can there be a reason?'

Frustrated, Duo took another fruitless swipe at the AT Field.  

"What a defense by Shinji!" Hiroshi shouted.  "He's focusing 
all his energy into an impenetrable AT Field that not even 
Duo's weapon can scratch!  WOW, folks!  This defense is really 
a work of art!  A staggering display of... er... defensive 
acumen!  A truly awesome strategic... um... tactic for... 
er..."

"Face it," Daisuke interrupted.  "All the breathless 
superlatives in the world won't change the fact that he's 
sitting there like a lump."

"But WHY?" Hiroshi spread his hands helplessly towards the 
monitors.  "What's the matter with him?"

"I suspect," Daisuke speculated, "that he has a great deal on 
his mind."

"You mean...?"

"Yep."

Hiroshi buried his face in his palm.  "Oh no.  He's BROODING 
again! And in the middle of a fight!  Aaargh!"

Daisuke folded his hands together.  "Wait a minute," he said. 
"Didn't he do this last week, too? Of course, he's done it in the 
weeks before that, and the weeks before that, and..."

Hiroshi banged his head against the table sharply.  "Oh, it's 
just SHINJI, damn it.  You have to feel for the poor guy. You know, 
really deep issues and stuff take time to think through emotionally 
to come to a satisfying closure. Take it from a sensitive guy like 
me with thoughts and feelings and stuff... but he's in the middle 
of a FIGHT, for crying out loud, this is NOT the time! SHINJI! 
Kick robotic ass!! ...no offense, Dai, I know Duo's a pal of
yours."

"Whatever," Daisuke shrugged.

"Hey!" Duo thundered across his speakers.  "What's the deal 
with you, kid?  We're here to fight!"

'Fight?' Shinji thought morosely.  'What's the point of 
fighting?  What does it matter if I win or lose?  I don't even 
know what I'm doing here.'

Duo swore softly and clicked his speakers off.  He adjusted 
the communications settings and patched a channel through 
directly to the Evangelion's cockpit so he could speak with 
Shinji privately.  The readouts indicated that he'd established
contact, but the viewscreen only showed him a weird display of
bubbly pink liquid.  He was in there somewhere... wasn't he?

"Hey, Shinji!" Duo shouted.  "Are you awake in there, man?
Come on, pal!  Let's give these guys a show!"

"...what's the point... of fighting...?" Shinji mumbled, 
unconsciously articulating snippets of the internal dialogue 
running through his head.  Duo heard the other pilot's voice
crackling across his speakers, so he figured his friend had
to be floating around in that mess someplace.

"We're in Ultra!" Duo exclaimed.  "That's the point, man.  Now 
get with it!"  He booted the AT Field again to punctuate the 
sentiment.

"...Ultra..." Shinji whispered, as he thought:  'I know it's 
Ultra.  But what is that supposed to mean?  Before I was 
fighting for NERV and for father... but now they're gone.  All 
gone.'

'He's a basket case,' Duo thought angrily.  He'd known Shinji
was sort of a strange egg when they'd worked together to spring
that blue-haired chick from Bison, but this was a little much.
It was going to be one dull fight if Shinji just sat there 
with his defense maxed out.  He ignored the Eva pilot's occasional 
mumbles over the comlink and returned to studying his sensors. 

The Gundam DeathScythe was equipped with several offensive 
options, but the Beam-Scythe was by far his most powerful 
weapon.  If he couldn't get that through Shinji's AT Field, 
none of his other weapons would have a chance of penetrating.  
'So let's have a closer look at that AT thing, shall we?' he 
thought, diverting power into the scanners.

'Then I worked for Lina,' Shinji recalled, still deep in his 
own space.  'There was a purpose to that, too.  It was for the 
sake of Earth... and Heaven.  God was in her Heaven, and all 
was right with the world.  But now that's gone.'  

Aloud, he said:  "...all was right... all gone..."

Duo spared a sharp look towards the communications monitor.  
There was something about the spaced-out timbre of Shinji's 
voice that he didn't like at all.  He returned his attention 
to analyzing his enemy.  'Okay... this is promising,' he 
thought.  His sensors showed the AT Field was not a completely 
solid structure, but rather a series of continuously 
regenerating hexagons which expanded and spread out in waves.  
'Like overlapping plates of armor,' he thought.  'Which means 
there might be a weakness at the seams...'

He tapped the field experimentally with the tip of his weapon, 
sending up another spray of sparks.  The Gundam's onboard 
computers immediately began to coalesce the resulting data.

'But Rei and Asuka were both in trouble,' Shinji continued 
along his morose train of thought.  'To save them... that was 
something I could do.  Something I could be useful for.  At 
least I thought so.  But Washuu was really the one who saved 
Asuka, not me.  It'll be the same for Rei.  I wanted to be the 
hero.  I pretended I could be brave.  I'm such...' 

"...a coward..." he moaned softly.

'Is that twerp calling me a coward?' Duo thought irately.  He 
scrutinized the output on his sensor readouts.  'There's an 
energy pattern to the AT Field... a waveform.  It looks 
familiar... it's like a human brainwave from an EEG readout!  
Damn, that's creepy.'

He shifted his Gundam into position for another attack.  In 
the UltraDome, the crowd stirred restlessly.  

'If I can match that waveform with a burst from my Gundam's 
ECM jammers,' Duo thought, 'it might weaken that AT Field for 
a moment.  A perfect strike to one of those seams... it might 
work!'  He began calibrating his mobile suit's electronic 
counter-measure emitters.

'There must be some purpose for the Evangelions to exist,' 
Shinji thought.  He'd been stuck in this general train of thought 
since the collapse of Heaven and Hell, only occasionally able
to climb out of the rut when his friends were in immediate 
danger.  'There has to be a purpose.  Doesn't there? 
Isn't there?  Isn't there a purpose for me?  The Angels are 
defeated.  My friends don't need me anymore.  Yet I exist.  
The Eva exists.  I have to... I have to find...' 

"... I have to find out..."

'Time to find out if this is gonna work!'  Duo thought.  'It's 
now or never!'

The ECM jammers on the Gundam DeathScythe flared with energy, 
distorting the air with an intense pulse of electromagnetic 
power.  With a furious battle cry, Duo reared back and plunged 
his Beam-Scythe into the invisible seam of Shinji's AT Field 
with laser-like precision.  Plasma exploded in every 
direction, the hideous shrieks of clashing energy fields 
echoed off the walls of the canyon.

The beam-scythe pierced Shinji's barrier, slashing clean 
through the right forearm of Evangelion Unit 01.  

Shinji's scream of agony blared across the speakers in Duo's 
cockpit, but the howl of Unit 01 itself was infinitely worse.  
The great purple mecha reared back like a beast, its mouth 
opened wide in a roar of primal anguish. Pinkish, blood-like 
fluid gushed from the stump of its severed arm.

"Holy crap!" Duo blurted, steering his Gundam back.  He'd 
known the Evangelions interfaced directly with the pilots in 
some way, but nothing had prepared him for this.  The mech 
itself was howling from the wound.  'How can it feel pain?' he 
thought.  'It's just a damned machine!'

"And Duo lands the first blow!" Hiroshi shouted, overjoyed 
that something had finally happened.  "He figured out some way 
past the AT Field!  INCREDIBLE!"

The Evangelion stopped howling and began to growl.

Shinji's soft, eerie laughter crackled across the speaker's
inside the Gundam's cockpit.  The bubbling pinkish fluid
began to churn. 'Oh, he is SO tranced out,' Duo thought.  
'It's like... he's using the ZERO System.  Or something 
similar.  Do the Evangelions mess with your head like that 
too?'

The ZERO System was a mobile suit feature that Duo 
particularly despised.  It was designed to focus the 
attentions of the pilot completely on the act of combat, 
allowing him to process huge amounts of data at computer-like 
speeds without "distractions" like emotion and ethics.  It was 
even supposed to give glimpses of the future, ostensibly to 
allow pilots to predict their enemy's moves in battle.  The 
overall effect on the human mind was almost invariably 
catastrophic.  If the Evangelions were built with something 
like that...

"No wonder the pilots are all a bunch of fruitcakes," Duo 
concluded, gnashing his teeth fitfully.

"There's something..." came the sound of Shinji's raw, gasping
voice.

"Hey, kid?"

"There's something you should know about the Evangelions," he 
rasped.

Unit 01 reached down to the dust-strewn canyon floor and 
grasped its severed forearm with its intact left hand.  Duo 
readied his Buster Shield and watched suspiciously.

"The armor... isn't just made to protect them," Shinji told 
him.

The Eva jammed the amputated limb against the oozing stump of 
its arm.  Cracked purple armor flaked away from the surface of 
Unit 01's forearm, and the substance underneath began to 
writhe and twist.  Duo recoiled in horror as he watched the 
Evangelion re-attach its severed arm.  'That isn't machinery 
under there,' he thought in revulsion.  'It's living tissue... 
it's some kind of flesh!'

"The armor is meant... to contain them," Shinji finished.

The Evangelion flexed the glistening flesh of its restored 
hand, and its eyes glowed with a terrible pale light.

The alien hollowness of Shinji's voice told Duo all he needed
to know - the boy was definitely in a deep fugue of some sort.  
Was he even controlling that monster at all?  Or was the Eva 
doing the thinking now?  The Gundam pilot didn't know.

All he knew is that he wanted to beat that damned thing until 
it stopped moving.

Powerful servos and hydraulics propelled the Gundam 
DeathScythe forward into battle. Duo lunged at his foe with a 
furious cry, swinging his Beam-Scythe in a murderous arc 
towards the waist of the purple monstrosity before him.  

The Eva leaped over the crackling weapon with the grace of an 
immense cat.

'Fast!' Duo realized.  'So fast!  And it even moves like an 
animal!'

He popped the machine cannons mounted on his Gundam's torso 
and opened fire, filling the air with spent-uranium shells.  
The Eva scuttled away from the gunfire, crawling like some 
great insect along the canyon floor and walls.  Plumes of dust 
and fragments of stone sprayed in every direction.

Duo pressed forward again, the canyon quaking with each of the 
Gundanium colossus's footfalls.  He swept his Beam-Scythe in a 
dizzying pattern towards the Eva, lacerating the air in a 
blazing tapestry of destruction.  Unit 01 dodged, ducked, and 
evaded the incoming strikes, until Duo finally lined up an 
attack too perfect for even the freakish abomination to avoid.

The Evangelion reached out with its flesh hand and caught 
Duo's weapon by the shaft, just as the tip of the Beam-Scythe 
dug into the great purple mech's shoulder.

With an unearthly growl of rage, the Eva lashed out with a 
backhanded punch.  The blow caught the Gundam across the chest 
with frightening force.  Duo lurched painfully against the 
restraints of his safety harness as his mobile suit tumbled 
across the cracked earth from the force of the blow.

As the mammoth form of the mech came to rest on against the 
canyon wall, Duo realized that he no longer had a grip on his 
Beam-Scythe.

Evangelion Unit 01 regarded the inert staff in its hand 
momentarily, then casually hurled the weapon out of the great 
canyon.  Duo felt his heart drop as the Beam-Scythe spiraled 
away out of sight.  

"Oh boy.  This is bad."

Sensors in the Gundam reported that the body had landed pinned 
on top of his Buster Shield.  Duo jerked the controller to 
roll the great mech into a fighting stance, but in a flash the 
Eva was on top of him.  Powerful, sinewy fists rained blows 
down on Duo's mighty mobile suit.  

Duo opened fire with the Vulcan Cannons on his mech's head, 
but the bullets weren't powerful enough to deter the crazed 
Evangelion.  Damage reports glared in desperate red all along 
his suit's internal monitors.  Over the comlink, Shinji was 
screaming something through his trance-like stupor.

"If their purpose comes from man..." Shinji cried.

Duo yanked his controllers violently and struggled in futility 
to bring the Buster Shield to bear.  The Eva was vicious and 
strong and so terribly fast... how could it be so big and 
still move so damned fast?

"... then they are doomed to failure!"

'What the hell is he babbling about?' Duo thought frantically.  
He re-routed power to the damaged systems and tried to get the 
thrusters back on line.  He counterattacked with a punishing 
blow against the Evangelion's head, creating a network of 
fissures through the purple armor but failing to slow it down 
even a fraction.  

"But if it comes from God..." Shinji railed.

Empty Vulcan Cannons whirled uselessly on the sides of the 
Gundam's head.  The Eva sank its teeth into the armored joint 
of the Gundam's right arm with a gut-wrenching crunch.

"...then nothing can stop them!"

Within the heart of Eva Unit 01, something pierced the bright-red 
veil of Shinji's battle lust.  His mind flooded with visions 
and faces - his mother, his father, the other Eva pilots, 
Misato, Lina Inverse, Terry Bogard, Washuu... every face, 
every scene, every memory flashed by in rapid strobe-like 
succession.  The images raced through his mind, faster and 
faster, one after the other, relentlessly shattering every 
layer of his psyche like a bullet through endless sheets of 
glass until finally...

The face of a young girl.

The yawning maw of darkness around her.

Shinji threw his head back and screamed.

Duo didn't know what had distracted his adversary, but he had 
no intention of letting the opportunity go to waste.  He 
shunted all power to emergency systems and his thrusters 
roared to life.  The silver and black colossus pivoted, 
freeing its Buster Shield and bringing the beam blades blazing 
into existence.  Indestructible Gundanium fingers wrapped 
around the Evangelion's head and crushed with all their might.

The two mechs, locked together in battle, roared through the 
sky and smashed like a meteor into the sheer surface of the 
far canyon wall.  Red-brown stone burst like a hundred 
angry thunderclaps, and the whole face collapsed in towering 
clouds of dust.

Krillin unwrapped his arms from around his head after the 
avalanche finally ended and peered cautiously into the haze of 
settling debris.  He took a deep gulp and fidgeted nervously.  
"Um... is anybody in there?"

A shape began to coalesce from the billowing russet cloud.  
Krillin could discern the thick rumble of heavy metallic 
footsteps across the rubble-strewn earth.

In the UltraDome, the crowd held its collective breath.

He checked back at the UltraPod camera uncertainly, then 
raised his hand over his head.  "The winner... I think..."

It was battered, sparking, and streaked with layers of fluid 
and grit, but the mighty Gundam DeathScythe was still on its 
feet.  It emerged through the curtain of dust, dragging the 
inert form of the Evangelion Unit 01 behind it.  

"Duo Maxwell in the Gundam DeathScythe!" Krillin declared.

A tidal wave of human voices surged through the UltraDome, 
each fan cheering at the top of their lungs.

Duo popped open the cockpit of his mobile suit and waved to 
the camera, drenched with sweat but beaming with triumph.  The 
camera pod transmitted the sound of the jubilant Ultra crowd 
back through the speakers in return.  He could hear the voice 
of Hiroshi as the announcer whooped madly about the result of 
the fight.

Somewhere in the hulking wreck of Evangelion Unit 01, Shinji 
felt a sense of deep peace envelop him like a mother's embrace.  
He was aware of the pain from the Eva's injuries, but that was 
in a place far away.  He floated in a single timeless moment, 
only distantly connected to his physical senses.

He vaguely heard the sound of Controversial Jack's voice being 
projected through the UltraPod camera.  The man was always 
talking, Shinji thought.  Something about a match next week, a 
special Omega fight.  "...Loser Leaves Ultra," Jack's voice 
buzzed like a tiny gnat.

Shinji smiled to himself.  Another Ultra fight was just fine.  
'If their purpose comes from God...' he thought, the pieces 
finally falling into place in his mind.  Everything up to this 
point had just been preparation. The face of the girl danced 
before him, bathed in golden light.

"So you got that, Shinji?" Jack barked to the fallen Eva.  
"You and Gally are gonna go at it next week at Reboot, and the 
loser gets a pink slip!  Hey, you awake in there, kiddo?  Do 
you understand?"

"I understand."  Shinji said in a placid voice.  "I finally 
understand."

- - - - -

Hiroshi tried to read the words on the index card that he'd 
just been handed, but they seemed to be jiggling about on the 
page in a most disconcerting fashion.  He passed the slip over 
to his partner.  "It seems we have special announcement!" 
Hiroshi belted into the mike.  "Daisuke, why don't you tell us 
about it?"

"How come you don't want to do this?" 

"My friend!  My partner!" Hiroshi patted Daisuke on the back.  
"Why should I hog the spotlight?  We're a team, right?"

"Are you too caffeinated to read again?" Daisuke asked dryly.  

"Well..."

"Right."  Daisuke glanced briefly at the notice, then cleared 
his throat.  "Folks, I've just been informed that we have 
added an additional fight to tonight's card.  Coming up in a 
moment, we're going to bring you a special Omega grudge match 
between Sephiroth and Dark Schneider."

"Hey hey HEY!" Hiroshi enthused.  "More Omega action!  Bad 
blood and black magic coming at you tonight, folks!"

"But first," Daisuke said, "we're going to take you on 
location to the site of next week's Ultra Reboot."

"That's right!  And the cat on the scene is Ultra's very own 
Nuku-Nuku, ready to pump us up with all the juicy details!  
Hey, there, cat-girl... where are you now?"

The UltraTron flickered to life again, revealing the pink-
haired cyborg in all her bubbly glory.  She thrashed her hand 
in an exuberant wave.  "Hi, everybody!  Guess where I am?  I'm 
in CALIFORNIA!"

The cat-girl twirled in place, arms spread wide in a flailing 
gesture of glee.  The camera pulled back to reveal a 
glittering scene of palm trees, sunshine, and expensive cars. 

"It's so sunny here!"  Nuku-Nuku observed.  "It makes me so 
happy, but -YAWN- sometimes it makes me sleepy too!  I just 
want to lie down and bask in the sun all day..."

The lids of the cat-girl's eyes drooped, and she licked her 
lips.  She cast about groggily for a place to lie down, until 
someone from out of shot reached in and poked her with a 
stick.  Nuku-Nuku collected herself and faced the camera once 
more, giggling.

"I guess I shouldn't nap just yet.  But the sun is so nice out 
here!  Hey, B-ko!" She waved at the camera and bounced up and 
down happily.  "B-ko!  You should come out here too!  It'd be 
really good for you, B-ko." Nuku-Nuku twiddled her fingers and 
looked concerned.  "Sometimes Nuku-Nuku worries about B-ko, 
because she looks so pale like she's sick or something.  You 
should eat more fresh salmon and bask in the sun, B-ko!  You'd 
feel much much better!"

(Back in Graviton City, a moderately bandaged B-ko glowered at 
the television with contempt.  "I hate her guts," she said.)

Nuku-Nuku clasped her hands behind her back and swayed around.  
"They say that this place is called 'Tinsel Town,' but there 
really isn't that much tinsel.  It's too bad, because tinsel 
is so much fun!  See?"  The cat-girl drew out a handful of 
shiny tinsel strands from behind her back and tossed them in 
the air, batting at them maniacally and laughing in delight.

"Excuse me," Hiroshi called to the flailing cyborg.  "Um, 
Nuku-Nuku? Maybe you could tell us why you're in California, 
hmm?"

"Oh yeah!" The cat-girl let the tinsel flutter out of sight 
after one final swipe.  "Guess who else is coming to 
California, guys?  YOU are!  Because that's where Ultra Reboot 
is going to be!  It's going to be right there... look!  See?"

The camera panned towards the direction in which Nuku-Nuku was 
frantically pointing.  "The Rose Bowl!" Nuku-Nuku cried in 
rapture as the stadium came into view.  "Ta-da!  I bet there 
will be lots and lots and lots of flowers there, right?"

After providing a long view of the stately Pasadena stadium, 
the camera focused back on Nuku-Nuku, who was standing next to 
a middle-aged American businessman.  She presented him to the 
crowd with arms outstretched.  "This is Mister Thorne!  He's 
the manager of the Rose Bowl, so everybody give him a big 
thanks for letting us come play in his place!"

('Letting?' thought Nabiki ironically.  'We're paying through 
the nose for this venue... but it'll be worth it.  Gotta give 
Jack credit for a good idea.')

The balding manager smiled back at her.  "It's our pleasure, 
Nuku-Nuku."

"Do you like Ultra lots and lots, Mister Thorne?" Nuku-Nuku 
asked.  

"I'm a big fan, ma'am.  In fact, I think..."

"GOOD!" the cat-girl rejoiced.  "Ultra is so much FUN!  All 
the people running around and fighting, lots of things going 
KEERASH and BOOM!"

"Yes, I..."

"ZOOM!  VA-ROOM!"  Nuku-Nuku mimicked various energy attacks 
and explosions with a parade of expansive pantomimes.  "KA-
BLANG!  And it's all going to be in your stadium!"

The manager's grin faltered a bit.  "Well, I think that will 
be quite a..."

"And don't worry!" the pink-haired dynamo reassured him.  
"Nuku-Nuku knows there has been some problems with that mean 
Bison, but you shouldn't worry about that!"

Mr. Thorne paled.  "B... Bison.  Yes, of course..."

"We have lots of people who would be happy to blow him up if 
he comes to your stadium!" she exclaimed ecstatically.  "There 
will be missiles and bombs and Dragon Slaves, and all sorts of 
big fiery KA-POW BLAMMOS if he tries to come here!"

"I think... I need to phone my attorney..." the manager 
whimpered.

"Oh?  Is it his birthday?" the inquisitive cat-girl asked.

"S... sure..."

"Happy birthday, then!" Nuku-Nuku clapped her hands in glee.  
"So that's all!  I'm gonna go take a nap now, guys!  Have a 
good show!"  In an incredible display of shifting gears, Nuku-
Nuku leaped over onto the hood of a black jaguar, curled up in 
a ball, and dropped off to sleep.  The screen faded to black.

"How do you like that, ladies and gentlemen?  California, here 
we come!" Hiroshi hooted, back in the UltraDome.  

"Los Angeles may never be the same," Daisuke speculated.  
"Hey... wasn't Nuku-Nuku supposed to be back from her world 
tour by now?"

"I guess she's just having too much fun globetrotting," 
Hiroshi said.  "She's an all-purpose cultural kind of girl, 
you know!"

"..."

"But enough about next week - on with the show!" Hiroshi 
exclaimed.  "Right now, we've a collision of Omega powerhouses 
heading your way, between none other than Sephiroth and Dark 
Schneider!"

"These two have been crossing paths a lot lately," Daisuke 
recalled.  "It really started a few weeks before the last 
UltraRage when Sephiroth decided to use Dark Schneider as a 
guinea pig for his Draw Glove."

Hiroshi picked up the tale.  "Darshuu had his chance for 
revenge two weeks ago, and technically he won that fight.  
However, his victory was CLEARLY due to rampant interference 
by a certain little ninja girl!"

"I don't think we'll be seeing Yuffie or B-ko tonight," 
Daisuke predicted.  "This fight was scheduled at the last 
minute.  They won't have had time to prepare."

"No girlfriends to bail you out this time, boys!" Hiroshi 
waved a scolding finger.  "It's just between the enchanted 
egomaniacs this time!  So let's take you out to Goku for this 
Omega extravaganza!"

Shades of grey and white swirled across the UltraTron 
monitors, resolving themselves finally into a landscape of 
frozen desolation.  Bitter knife-like winds slashed their way 
across a plain of ice, kicking up writhing eddies of frosty 
crystals in their wake.  No living thing could hope to thrive 
in a blighted land like this.  

It was a dump, but it made for an excellent stage for a 
confrontation between demi-gods.  

Son Goku stood on the frigid ground, frowning.  Jack had 
called him immediately after the earlier fight between Gally 
and Lina Inverse to tell him he'd be working overtime.  It 
didn't exactly make him happy, but he couldn't leave this one 
to Krillin.  These two were both serious troublemakers, far 
more than his timid friend could handle if things got out of 
control.  He'd complained loudly to Nabiki about the fact that 
he hadn't been assigned to the first fight between this pair, 
so he didn't have anyone to blame but himself.  Besides, he 
was pulling double pay, so he couldn't really complain.

He wondered briefly what had sparked tonight's impromptu 
clash, but decided he didn't really care.

He gave the cue, and the portals blazed open.

Son Goku glanced at Dark Schneider, then turned to give a 
longer glare to Sephiroth.  "You know the rules," he warned, 
"and you know me.  I'm not going to stand for any crap, 
especially from you, Sephiroth.  Is that understood?"

The Son of Jenova blinked, as if surprised to see Goku there.  
"I'm sorry... did you say something?"

The referee clenched and unclenched his fist one time.  "You 
heard me.  Now get ready."

][ OMEGA MATCH #3
][ Dark Schneider vs. Sephiroth
][ FIGHT!

Both fighters rose into the air, buoyed by magical energy, and 
regarded one another with contempt.  "I still do not feel 
properly vindicated for your outrage on my person with that 
ridiculous Draw Glove," Schneider informed his foe.

"Is that so?" Sephiroth asked condescendingly.  "How painful 
for you."

"Pain?" the sorcerer bit back.  "I intend to teach you the 
meaning of that word."  He extended his hands and focused his 
magical power.  "AN...

"Reflect," Sephiroth said, raising his hand in a casual 
gesture.

 ...THEM!  Damn it!"

It was too late for him to break off the casting.  A host of 
blinding streaks shot forth from Darshuu's extended hands, 
writhing through the air towards the Son of Jenova. 
Sephiroth's Reflect spell, a magical barrier designed to 
volley direct attacks back at an enemy caster, formed in place 
well before the missiles struck.  

Dark Schneider scrambled to get a defense ready before his own 
spell bounced back in his face.  "DANZIG!" he barked, rushing 
through the magical gestures.  A lens-shape shield of ice 
formed in front of him just before the bolts of the Anthem 
connected.  

Both defenses were made to reflect magical energy.  The 
resulting fireworks display of the Anthem bouncing back and 
forth between them elicited a round of appreciative "oohs" 
from the crowd in the UltraDome.

When the eldritch energy of the Anthem spell finally 
dissipated after being volleyed enough times, Dark Schneider 
glared at his foe.  'He got that shield up rather quickly,' he 
thought.  'A good guess as to how I'd attack.  However, that 
defense will provide him no protection from this...'

The ageless sorcerer began to warm up the Helloween, a spell 
which was almost the match of the Dragon Slave for sheer 
destructive potential.  Sephiroth's reflection defense 
wouldn't save him from such a wide area attack.   He formed 
patterns of ancient magical power in the with his hands, 
chanting:  "Sage from beyond; take the seven keys..."

Sephiroth watched with half-lidded amusement.  As Schneider 
neared the end of his incantation, he pointed a finger towards 
the mage.  "Magic Hammer," he said softly.

"...and open the gates of Hell!  Turn my enemy... eh?"

The manifestation which appeared above Dark Schneider's head 
bore an uncanny resemblance to the mallets which Tendou Akane 
was often known to employ.  It pivoted in the air, bonking the 
legendary Conqueror of Flames on his white-haired head.  The 
ghostly mallet did no physical damage, but Schneider felt the 
magical energies of the Helloween spell waver and dissipate 
like steam.  The spell fizzled out, ruined.

Dark Schneider watched the vaguely comical phantom mallet fade 
out of existence and narrowed his eyes.  "Is it my 
imagination," he asked Sephiroth, "or are you mocking me?"

"Would I do such a thing?" Sephiroth asked, almost indignant.

"Hmmph."  The wizard decided to try a different tactic.  If he 
could tie up Sephiroth's attention for a moment, he could gain 
the necessary breathing space to launch a truly formidable 
spell.  He summoned the pure elemental energy of fire to his 
command.  "Flaming Tiger, come to me... GHOST PANTHER!"

A searing inferno sprang into being between Dark Schneider and 
Sephiroth.  Yellow streaks of energy billowed and twisted 
themselves into the shape of a tremendous feline predator, its 
eyes white as burning magnesium.  Jets of steam hissed forth 
from the ice where the elemental panther's paws touched down.

'Now, while he's occupied with that...' Darshuu thought.

"Fat Chocobo," Sephiroth almost sighed.

An immensely chubby yellow bird materialized in the air above 
the Ghost Panther, hovered for a moment, then dropped out of 
the sky like a brick.  The flightless fowl landed in a 
graceless splay on the fiery cat manifestation, accompanied by 
a loud, fluffy "plomp." The Ghost Panther snuffed out like a 
candle.  A moment later, the absurd-looking bird creature 
faded away as well.

Dark Schneider pursed his lips.  "You ARE mocking me."

Sephiroth shrugged.  "Well, perhaps a bit."

The sorcerer drew forth his red-hued Sword of Flames, a weapon 
powered by the raw elemental energy of an imprisoned Efreet.  
"I will not," he hissed, "tolerate this."

In response, Sephiroth drew his own sword with deliberate 
slowness.  His elegant blade, the legendary Murasame, 
glistened like silver against the backdrop of dull ice.  
"Dueling again?" he asked in a mild tone.  "I would have 
thought you learned your lesson last time.  Before I awakened 
to my birthright, I was the greatest swordsman that SOLDIER 
has ever known."

"Bah," Schneider scoffed.  "I achieved mastery of the arts of 
war hundreds of years before you oozed out of your test tube, 
Sephiroth."

"Spare me the recitations of your personal fables, wizard," 
the One-Winged Angel admonished.  "I already know them all."

A wary look crossed Dark Schneider's face, but only for a 
moment.  He raised his pulsing red blade and attacked.

Hiroshi leaned into his microphone.  "And they're at it again!  
When these two locked horns before, it looked like Sephiroth 
had the advantage in sword technique.  Can Darshuu put on a 
better showing this time around?"

"It doesn't look like it," Daisuke noted.  "If anything, he's 
even more outclassed."

Sephiroth did not bother to attack, he merely parried each of 
Schneider's blows with contemptuous ease.  The muscular 
magician spun and twisted, striking high and low in a dazzling 
display of martial prowess, but never came close to landing a 
hit.  It was as if his adversary were protected by a flashing 
cage of steel.  He pressed the attack with every ounce of 
skill at his disposal, but could not even force Sephiroth to 
yield an inch.

Abruptly, Dark Schneider backed off, panting slightly.  
"You're... predicting my moves."

"Of course not," came the Son of Jenova's unconvincing denial.

"You ARE!" Schneider declared with certainty.  "You've been 
anticipating my every attack since the beginning of this 
fight!  Yet I sense no magic or telepathy.  HOW!?" he 
demanded.  "How are you doing that?"

"If you must know."  The long-haired Master of the Void 
lightly touched his temple with his index finger.  "I have 
your memories stored in my mind.  A tawdry jumble of 
recollections, to be sure.  Almost more trouble than they're 
worth."

"You have..." Dark Schneider drew a sharp breath.  "The Draw 
Glove!  When you used that infernal thing on me, you... 
you..."

"Indeed," Sephiroth acknowledged.  "Though the paltry 
spellcasting power I absorbed from you faded in time, an 
imprint of your primitive mind remained like a charcoal 
rubbing.  I confess, it took me a short while to sort through 
your memories in a constructive fashion, but now there is 
nothing you can do which can surprise me, Dark Schneider.  I 
can read you like an open book."

"An open book," the master mage snarled.  "Have you reached 
THIS chapter, Sephiroth?"  With that, he raised his Sword of 
Flames over his head and barked a magical word.  "LATIFAH!" he 
cried, calling forth a blazing nova of orange light along the 
length of the blade.

'What's this?' Sephiroth thought in surprise.  'I don't recall 
that spell!' He raised his sword to parry the incoming 
strike...

The fabled Masamune, a sword so powerful that only the Son of 
Jenova could tame it, forged with a blade sharp enough to 
shave the electrons off an atom, shattered like spun glass 
under Dark Schneider's blow.

Sephiroth's mako-blue eyes widened in utter disbelief.  He 
staggered back, watching the fragments of his invincible sword 
tumble through space.  "Impossible..." he choked.

"A LUCARIA!" Dark Schneider snapped, casting as quickly as he 
could manage.  The fabric of the dimension rent beneath his 
will, opening a gateway into the blackness of space 
immediately behind the Son of Jenova.  A rush of powerful wind 
took hold of the stunned Sephiroth and sucked him through the 
aperture. 

"DID you see THAT?" Hiroshi screeched.  "Schneider just 
DESTROYED Sephiroth's sword!"

Daisuke stared, dumbstruck.  "I can't believe it!"

Son Goku examined the empty space where the gateway had closed 
behind Sephiroth.  "I guess that counts as an out-of-bounds," 
he decided, and began to count.  "Ten... nine... eight..."

Dark Schneider stood with his muscular arms crossed, staring 
at the vacant sky as Goku finished his countdown.  He did not 
react when he was declared the winner of the bout, but simply 
watched and waited.

Less than a minute after the fight was officially over, the 
air roiled with writhing negative energy.  The recently-closed 
rent in space tore itself back open, and the One-Winged Angel 
stepped back onto the field.  Ripples of power coruscated down 
the length of his long, curved, and completely intact Murasame 
sword.

Sephiroth studied the blade in his hand.  "An illusion," he 
pronounced.  "A trick to make me believe you had shattered my 
weapon."

"Nothing gets past you," Schneider mocked.

"Heh," Sephiroth chuckled.  "Amusing.  You didn't have that 
ability at your command when I used the Draw Glove."

"If you really learned anything from my memories, you'd 
understand why," the notorious destroyer asserted.  "A true 
sorcerer never relaxes in his quest for knowledge and 
attainment.  Ever learning, ever seeking, ever finding... that 
is the creed of a master mage!  That is the path to Ultimate 
Power!"

"Don't be too proud of yourself," Sephiroth warned.  His eyes 
pulsed with the angry power of the [Void].  "That parlor trick 
of yours was a delaying tactic at best.  In an instant, I 
could reduce you to cinders..."

Dark Schneider's hands glowed with swirling magical radiance, 
but Son Goku stepped forth to face Sephiroth as well.  "That's 
enough!" the referee commanded.  "This fight is decided!  Just 
back off!"

The Son of Jenova glanced from one foe to the next for a 
moment.  "Very well," he acceded.  "The results of such a 
fight are meaningless, and I have matters of import to 
attend."  He fixed his uncanny gaze upon Dark Schneider, a 
hard grin on his features.  "Continue crawling like an insect 
along your so-called path to power, you big fat doody-head.  
You will never truly be a match for me."  

With that, he called forth a portal of negative power and was 
gone.

Back in the UltraDome, Hiroshi and Daisuke regarded one 
another in frank astonishment.  "Am I hearing things," Hiroshi 
asked, "or did Sephiroth just call Darshuu a 'big fat doody-
head?'"

"Yep," Daisuke confirmed, boggling.  "I heard it too."

"I think," Hiroshi said slowly, "that Sephiroth has more than 
just Darshuu's memories floating around in that whacked-out 
head of his."

"I think you're right."

"I think we need to take a break before the last fight."

"I think you're right about that, too."

- - - - - 

The main control center of Shadowlaw bore a certain 
resemblance to the bridge of a starship, with a host of black-
clad officers manning technical workstations arrayed in a 
semi-circle around the central command chair.  M. Bison rested 
in his throne-like seat, examining the slim digital pad in his 
hand with mild interest.

It was a report from his genetic development team on a minor 
but entertaining biological engineering project.  The goal was 
to take a strain of relatively harmless common ducks and breed 
them into manic flesh-eating carnivores.  His project leader 
wrote that the third generation was showing great promise, 
featuring razor-keen bills and a preference for fresh meat.  
The aggressiveness factor was still not there, but that would 
come in time.

Bison doubted the "piranha ducks" would be of much use in the 
long run, but he had a particular task in store for them.  He 
had in his mind a picture of a delightfully ironic scene, in 
which he lowered Controversial Jack slowly into a pit writhing 
with these man-eating mallards.  The look on that man's 
insolent face as the ducks devoured him from the feet up would 
be well worth the investment.

Most laymen simply didn't realize how much planning went into 
a single moment of true evil.

A flare of bright fiery light interrupted Bison's pleasantly 
diabolical musings, and he stood abruptly from his command 
seat.  

Swirling orange flames materialized in the air, building in 
intensity and filling the command room with the pungent reek 
of brimstone.  Bison eyed this manifestation suspiciously, 
readying himself for an attack.  The image of a handsome, 
muscular man shimmered into being within the swirl of raging 
fire.  

"Dark Schneider," Bison growled his greeting.  

"Bison.  A word with you," the sorcerer said.  His image 
showed that he was reclining in an ornate cushioned chair, 
drinking red wine from a fine goblet of gold and crystal.  

"Certainly," the crimelord agreed amiably.  Inside, he was 
feeling anything but amiable.  One of his favorite tactics for 
communication was to blindside whoever he wished to contact in 
some way, employing means such as unscheduled appearances, 
surprise transmissions, the commandeering of their computer 
systems, and the like.  The ambush approach gave him a 
psychological edge in a given encounter, automatically placing 
him in a superior position.

Dark Schneider had turned that tactic back on him with a 
magical spin, and he did not like it one bit.  

"I attempted to do as you requested," the master mage informed 
him.  "But just as I had Tendou Nabiki wrapped around my 
little finger, a certain bumbling fool interfered and ruined 
everything.  Seduction is a delicate matter, easily derailed 
by the presence of ham-handed morons."

"You mean... Sephiroth."  The pieces fell into place.  Now, 
Bison understood the reason behind the unexpected bout on 
Ultra.

"Precisely," Darshuu confirmed.  "I thought you had him under 
control."

"I do," the Shadowlaw lord asserted.

The majestic sorcerer raised an eyebrow.  "I'm afraid I don't 
believe that."

"Do not be deterred," Bison suggested.  "I will make certain 
that Sephiroth does not interfere with your future efforts to 
woo the Tendou girl."

"No.  The situation is unacceptable."  Schneider sighed.  "If 
I wish to have Tendou Nabiki some time in the future, it will 
be for my own pleasure.  But I fear that you and I can have no 
arrangements of any kind, so long as you persist in allying 
yourself with that charlatan."

"I see." Bison's voice grated like two slabs of concrete 
rubbing together.  "So that's your position."

"Yes."

"You are aware that I am not in the habit of rewarding 
failure, Dark Schneider."

"You mean my payment?" The elegant master of magic twirled his 
goblet.  "Of no matter.  I accepted the assignment out of 
curiosity.  The money is immaterial."

"Very well," Bison said, folding his arms in front of his 
massive chest.  "Then I consider this matter..."

"One more thing, young one," Dark Schneider cut in.  Bison 
ground his teeth - he wasn't sure which he hated more, being 
interrupted or being called 'young one.'  

"Yes?" he hissed.

"A word of advice."  The wizard sipped his wine before 
speaking again.  "Sephiroth is not a creature to be tamed, 
even by one such as you.  So long as you hobble yourself with 
his presence, failure will befall your every endeavor.  You 
are better off without him."  

With that the eldritch flames flared one final time, then 
winked out.  

Bison glared.  There were a number of things about that 
exchange which he found immensely displeasing.  Not getting 
the last word in always annoyed him, too.  

Members of the command staff of Shadowlaw followed certain 
iron-clad principals.  For one, you never addressed the boss 
or even looked at him until asked.  You never, ever said a 
word unless commanded to do so, especially when he was 
annoyed.  And you performed every task set before you as if 
your life depended on it... because generally, it did.  The 
officers knew their lord's temperament well enough to 
anticipate that he would give them a command very soon, and 
they waited with fingers poised above their keyboards.  

"Contact Sagat," Bison barked.

1.3 seconds later, the copper-skinned fighter's hairless 
visage appeared on the central viewscreen.

"Sir?" 

"You are fighting in Ultra in a few moments," Bison said.  
"Are you not?"

"Of course."  The Muay Thai kickboxer's voice was almost 
resigned.

"I may have a task for you following the end of the 
broadcast," the crimelord informed his subordinate.  "Stay in 
the stadium until you hear from me, whether you win or lose."

"Whether I...?" Sagat sneered.  "There are no worthy foes in 
this league.  My opponent tonight is a bungling clod of the 
worst order.  You actually think I could lose?"

"Show me," Bison commanded.  "Show me your strength, Sagat.  
Show me your superiority.  I wish to see it with my own eyes."

"Nothing could give me greater pleasure, my lord."

"Excellent."  Bison flashed his grin.  "Await your orders 
after the fight."  He gave a curt signal to end the 
transmission, and the screen grew dark.

The master of Shadowlaw folded his hands behind his back, 
breathing deeply.  His officers awaited his next command, 
holding their collective breath.  

"Locate Sephiroth," he finally ordered in a low, dangerous 
voice.  "I wish to arrange a meeting."

- - - - -

"Welcome back, everybody!" Hiroshi shouted into the mike.  
"It's the last fight of the evening, and have WE got a treat 
for YOU!"

Daisuke raised an eyebrow and grinned at his partner.  "More 
like a treat for you, Hiro."

"You bet!" Hiroshi agreed enthusiastically.  "I admit it!  
When it comes to this man, I am a fanboy of the first order!  
Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for none other 
than... MISTEERRRR SATAN!"

Spotlights burst to life through the darkness of the 
UltraDome, focusing on the figure at the top of the gangway.  
The speakers in the stadium blasted chords of swelling, heroic 
music as the bulky figure stepped into view, but virtually 
nothing could match the volume of the deafening applause.  Mr. 
Satan, pristine cape fluttering and afro swaying with every 
step, strode forth into the quaking stadium.

The chant began, building in intensity like a force of nature.  
"SA-TAN! SA-TAN! SA-TAN!"

Indoor fireworks erupted on either side of the ramp, filling 
the air with brilliant hues.  Mr. Satan climbed into the ring 
as the spotlights danced around his form, careful not to muss 
his hair on the ropes.  He pivoted to face the audience and 
flexed his biceps at them.  The crowd went absolutely berserk.

"WHAT an ENTRANCE!" Hiroshi crowed.

"Mr. Satan has always enjoyed the love of the Ultra crowd," 
Daisuke noted.  "And his past several appearances, he's shown 
remarkable growth as a fighter.  But it's a real question as 
to whether his new techniques will be enough to handle the 
opponent he faces tonight..."

"You BET they will!" Hiroshi assured his partner.  "He's got 
the KI to VICTORY in the palm of his hand!"

"Ugh," Daisuke winced.

"Mr. Satan is da MAN, my friend!" The overjoyed announcer 
began to chant again.  "SA-TAN! SA-TAN!"

Daisuke sat back and watched his partner work the crowd a 
while longer.  When the tumult finally died down, he spoke 
into his microphone.  "Let's introduce the man who will be 
fighting Mr. Satan tonight."

"RIGHT!" Hiroshi agreed.  "Folks, may I present the CHUMP 
who's going to get his CLOCK CLEANED.  He's a member of 
Bison's so-called Busters, but tonight he's all by his 
lonesome!  Come on out here and get your whoopin', Sa... oh. 
He's already there."

The announcers blinked in surprise.  Sagat waited in his 
corner, arms crossed across his scarred chest.  Nobody had 
even seen him come into the ring.

"He must've come down while Mr. Satan was making his 
entrance," Daisuke guessed.

"Bad form, Sagat, bad form!" Hiroshi scolded.  "Don't you have 
any sense of showmanship?"

The tall, lanky fighter cocked his head at the announcer.  
"Showmanship?  Oh, of course.  How forgetful of me.  You're 
all here to be... entertained."  

The referee shuffled into the ring, adjusting his nearly 
opaque coke-bottle spectacles.  He sucked down a few blasts 
from his asthma inhaler, then wheezed into the microphone.  
"All right... I think we should start the fight now."

][ GAMMA MATCH #1
][ Mr. Satan vs. Sagat
][ FIGHT!

Sagat did not even deign to take a fighting stance.  Instead, 
he faced Mr. Satan from across the ring and spread his arms in 
an inviting gesture.  "Well?  Don't you have some kind of 
spectacular new technique?  Please, I'm so eager to see it."

Earth's (Former) Greatest Hero cracked his knuckles loudly.  
"So, you want me to end the fight that quickly, do you?" he 
said with a wide grin.  "Very well!"

The barrel-chested fighter drew in a deep breath and focused 
his ki energy.  He mustered his concentration, channeling the 
power of his very life force into the space between his cupped 
hands.  Blue light began to flicker from his fingertips.  
"KA... ME... HA..."

"Tiger Wave!" Sagat snarled, launching a pulsing streak of 
energy at his foe. 

The fierce ki-blast slammed into Satan's broad abdomen, 
utterly shattering his concentration.  He swayed unsteadily 
and reached for the ropes to try to regain his balance.

Sagat stalked across the ring in a direct path to his enemy.  
Satan raised his meaty arms in a semblance of a defensive 
stance, but the Muay Thai master drove an uppercut through his 
guard as if it weren't there.  Mr. Satan's head snapped back 
from the force of the punch, and he staggered.

"Pathetic," Sagat spat.

'Got cocky...' Satan thought.  'Should have known... my attack 
would be too slow...'  He tried to shut out the pain and 
regain his focus.

Sagat's iron-hard fist slammed into his ribs, driving the air 
from his lungs.

"Come now," the bald kickboxer said, then cracked him across 
the jaw with an elbow.  "Where are these new skills?" Sagat 
drove his knee at Satan's kidney.  "All this power you're 
supposed to have?  Where is it?"

"And Satan's really getting the worst of it," Daisuke 
commented.  

Hiroshi grit his teeth and flinched as Sagat landed another 
brutal combination.  "Come on, you can do it!"  he pleaded to 
his reeling hero. He thrashed his fist in the air.  "SA-TAN!  
SA-TAN!  Say it with me, folks!  SA-TAN!"

"Yes," Sagat teased the crowd as the chant wavered uncertainly 
through the arena.  "By all means!  Clap your hands if you 
believe in fairies!"  He battered Mr. Satan's head back and 
forth with alternating blows to each temple.  "You can fly 
like a fairy, can't you?  Isn't that one of your great powers, 
hero?"

Satan tried to gather his strength to leap into the air, but 
agony flared through his nerves like a bonfire.  He couldn't 
think... couldn't focus...

"You ARE a hero, right?" Sagat roared.  "Aren't you?" He 
punished Satan's ribs again.  "Aren't you?  Or are you a 
fraud?  Well?  Come on!  Let's see!"

The word 'fraud' cut through the red haze of Satan's pain, 
reaching some deep core of pride within.  A desperate, enraged 
cry rumbled forth from his throat as he reared back his mighty 
fist.  "SAATAAN... PUNCH!"

Sagat caught the big man's incoming fist well before the 
haymaker landed.  He grinned sadistically and squeezed, his 
grip like a steel vice.  Satan cried out as his knuckles 
crunched under Sagat's grip.

"Such a hero," the kickboxer hissed.  Then, he wrenched Mr. 
Satan's arm in a single violent motion.  Something in the 
bulky man's shoulder popped sickeningly. 

Several members of the crowd began to scream.

That was it, Mr. Satan realized as his shoulder dislocated.  
The world was nothing but a blur now, encroaching to 
blackness.  It was best just to fall and let unconsciousness 
take him.  The fight was lost, he was done.  His knees buckled 
and he began to collapse.

Sagat caught him by the throat and propped him up against the 
turnbuckle.  He drove punch after merciless punch into Satan's 
unprotected body, refusing to let the suffering man fall.

"Stop it!" Hiroshi shouted in anguish.  "Stop it, already!"

"Why?" Bison's henchman asked curiously.  "Is this not what 
you came here for?"  He smashed his forearm into his 
opponent's throat, then gestured to the audience.  "Isn't this 
what you paid your money to see?"

"Ref!" Daisuke called out.  "Can't you stop the fight?"

"Huh?"  The referee tucked away his Game Boy and took in the 
scene.  In a bold, decisive move, he drew forth the Ultra rule 
book and began to search for the section which covered 
technical knock-outs.  

Sagat continued his torment of the helpless Mr. Satan.  "This 
is entertainment!" he exclaimed between blows.  "Aren't you 
being entertained?  Aren't you enjoying yourselves?  Isn't 
this what you wanted?" 

He clutched two handfuls of Satan's afro on either side of the 
hero's head, yanking violently.  Sagat rammed his knee into 
Satan's face over and over, until finally the chunks of bloody 
hair tore free from the big man's scalp.  Sagat caught him 
again, still not letting him fall.

"Just STOP!" Hiroshi screamed.  "Let him GO!"

"Oh, but I've only begun," Sagat purred.  He secured his grip 
on the back of Mr. Satan's neck, holding him up by the scruff 
like some giant limp puppy.  "Are you ready, Hiroshi?  Are you 
ready for some... Ultraviolence?"  

With that he slammed a knee into Mr. Satan's crotch.  The 
audience rocked back in their seats with sympathetic pain.

"Cut it out, you sadist!" came a girl's voice from the 
tunnel's entrance.

Hiroshi turned desperately.  "Who... it's Sakura!"

Kusagano Sakura darted down the ramp at a full sprint, red 
sneakers churning in a blur.  She launched into a flying leap 
at the base of the ring, aiming her foot at Sagat's shaved 
head.  The lean, powerful fighter dodged Sakura's blow and 
released his grip on Mr. Satan.

Gratefully, Earth's (Former) Greatest Hero passed out cold. 

"You've done enough!" Sakura declared angrily as she landed.  
"SHUNPUU KYAKU!"  

The "Spring Wind Kick" was Sakura's version of the Shotokan 
"Hurricane Kick" technique.  It operated on much the same 
principle, allowing her to execute a series of whirling kicks 
in rapid succession, battering her adversary with a dozen 
fierce attacks in roughly the span of a single second.  

At least, that was the idea.  Sagat intercepted her attack 
before the first kick landed, snaring her ankle in his 
crushing grip.  "Idiot," he scoffed.

The Muay Thai master planted his feet and swung Sakura like a 
baseball bat.  She raised her hands to try to defend herself, 
but to little avail.  Her body slammed with bone-shattering 
force into the turnbuckle.  

"Using a bastardized version of one of Ryu's attacks?  Against 
me?"  Sagat hauled her over his head and smashed her against 
the canvas.  "Little fool!" He swung her body once more and 
brought her crashing down, finally relinquishing his grip on 
her leg.  

Still conscious but utterly disoriented, Sakura rolled slowly 
to her hands and knees.  The world dipped and spun crazily 
around her head.  

Sagat reached out with a foot, using is toe to flick the edge 
of Sakura's skirt up over her back.  He made a grand gesture 
to the audience.  "There!  There are her panties.   Didn't you 
come to see that?"  He grinned at Hiroshi.  "Don't you like my 
showmanship now?"

The kickboxer reared back and kicked Sakura like a football.  
She bounced across the mat, face twisted in agony as she 
clutched her gut.

"Leave her alone!" This time, it was Yabuki Shingo hurtling 
down the ramp towards Sagat.  He vaulted over the top rope 
into the ring.  "I won't let you hurt her!  Shingo-KICK!"

Sagat met the kick with one his own, cracking the boy sharply 
in the shin.  Shingo tumbled back towards the prone Sakura, 
limbs splayed in every direction.  He recovered and put his 
arms around his fallen friend, interposing himself between her 
and Sagat.  The Muay Thai fighter gathered his ki-energy, 
warming up an attack to flatten them both...

At that point, several things happened at once.

Kanzuki Karin, Shingo's girlfriend and Sakura's bitter rival, 
stormed towards the ring.  "Hands off my man!" she snapped 
haughtily.  It was not entirely clear whom she was addressing.

"BOLT 2!" came the shout of Tifa Lockheart.  A crackling 
streak of electricity cut between Sagat and the fallen 
fighters, forcing the tall kickboxer to step back and break 
off his attack.  She rushed towards the ring from a different 
tunnel than Karin, with Bean Bandit close at her heels.

"AT Field!" Hiroshi cried, leaping into the ring.  He stood 
over Mr. Satan, bringing up his force field to protect the 
fallen hero.  

Sagat flexed his fingers and looked from one enemy the next.  
His eyes burned with gleeful battle fury, and nobody could 
tell if he intended to back off or continue his brutal 
rampage.  Tifa, Bean, Karin, and Shingo arranged themselves 
unevenly around him, waiting for someone to make a move.  

In the end, it was the referee who actually defused the 
situation.  The scrawny little man in the striped shirt 
hobbled up to Sagat.  "Um... I've made the count against your 
opponent," he informed the kickboxer, gesturing at the inert 
lump of Mr. Satan.  "You won."

"Oh?" Sagat slapped his hands together in a 'that's-that' 
gesture.  "Then I suppose I'm through here."

As he left the ring and paced up the ramp to a rampant chorus 
of boos, Sagat flashed one last look over his shoulder to the 
figures on the canvas.  He smiled contemptuously, gave Hiroshi 
a mock salute, then disappeared through the archway.

Assured that the danger had passed, the medics rushed to 
attend the fallen.

"Sakura?" Shingo called, taking a step towards his groaning 
friend.  Karin caught him by the shoulder and spun him to face 
her.  "Uh... Karin?"

"Oh, you poor thing!" she fussed, examining a bruise on his 
cheek from where he'd hit the mat.  "Does that hurt?  Let's go 
get you to the infirmary, sweetie."

"But... Sakura..." he hazarded.

Karin sniffed.  "Oh, don't worry about her.  She's tough, like 
a little cockroach."

"I just want to see..."

"SHINGO!" Karin barked in a whip-crack voice.

"Uh, right," he relented, folding.  He let Karin steer him out 
of the ring.

Hiroshi wobbled unsteadily back into his seat, his face full 
of concern.  Tifa knelt next to Mr. Satan, flooding his 
motionless body with healing energy as the paramedics readied 
a stretcher.  Daisuke gave his friend a concerned look.  "Are 
you all right?"

"Yeah," Hiroshi managed, his voice wavery.  "I just... well, 
that's not how I'd have liked to end the show..."

Daisuke watched as the medics scraped Mr. Satan off the mat 
like yesterday's pudding.  "Yeah, well... that's Ultra for 
you."

"I guess so."  Hiroshi spoke into the mike and addressed the 
crowd, trying to muster one last gasp of enthusiasm.  "It's 
been great to have you all with us tonight, folks!"

"Next week, we'll be in California for Ultra Reboot," Daisuke 
provided.

"That's right!  You don't want to miss it, ladies and 
gentlemen!  I'm Hiroshi and this is my partner, Daisuke.  For 
all of us here at Ultra, thank you and good night!"

- - - - -

M. Bison stood on the wind-swept earth of the Shadowlaw 
weapons testing ground and watched Sephiroth's gateway unfold 
before him.  He had no attendants on hand - this was to be a 
private meeting, and possibly a dangerous one.  Bison folded 
his arms over his chest as the silver-haired Son of Jenova 
floated into view.

Sephiroth's voice was as smooth as an oiled sword sliding from 
its sheath.  "You wished an audience with me?"

Bison maintained his grin, but his brow furrowed angrily.  In 
his world, all people fit into one of three categories:  
slaves, victims, and enemies.  Unfortunately, Sephiroth did 
not quite match any of those descriptions, and Bison found 
that quite vexing.  

"You interfered with one of my operations today," he told 
Sephiroth.  "Though it was not your intent, I'm sure."

"Oh.  A shame.  Is that all?"  Sephiroth regarded Bison as if 
he were some manner of wriggling insect.  This was to be 
expected, since Sephiroth tended to look at EVERYBODY that 
way, but Bison felt he should merit a bit more respect.

The crimelord fingered the trigger of a device hidden under 
the sleeve of his right wrist.  He kept his tone as even and 
genial as he could manage.  "We are partners, my friend," he 
rasped.  "We must coordinate our efforts to achieve the 
maximum benefit."

The look Sephiroth gave him was almost pitying.  "Very well," 
he said.  "I will endeavor to warn you in advance when I 
require your services."

Bison's grin slipped.  "That is NOT what I mean," he rumbled. 
"I have numerous operations in progress at any given time.  
You are to consult me before taking any actions regarding 
Ultra.  Do you understand?"

"I refuse," Sephiroth told him casually.  "The Son of Jenova 
answers to no man."

The muscles in Bison's neck clenched.  "We are allies, 
Sephiroth.  But that does not mean I will tolerate defiance."

A smile crossed the One-Winged Angel's handsome face.  
"Please.  Blustering ill suits you, Bison.  You may be able to 
cow a simpleton like that wind-up doll, Ifurita, but I am not 
so easily intimidated."

"You could take a lesson from that wind-up doll," the 
crimelord warned. 

"Though you are capable of fooling others with your 
technological tricks and sleight-of-hand," Sephiroth said, "I 
know that your power is far inferior to mine."

Bison's thumb twitched above the trigger of the hidden device 
strapped to his forearm.  "Do not put that to the test, 
Sephiroth."

Sephiroth raised a hand in a gesture that was almost 
placating.  "Enough.  We are allies, after all.  Bravado and 
threats are unnecessary."

"If you are my ally," Bison growled, "then you will make more 
effort to inform me of your intentions regarding Ultra."

"Very well," Sephiroth acquiesced, somewhat unconvincingly.  
"I shall endeavor to keep you appraised, so you may plan your 
operations around me.  Will that be all?"

"For the moment," replied the tyrant.

"Fear not, Bison," Sephiroth said as he brought his gateway 
back into being.  "I believe this alliance will ultimately 
prove fruitful.  If you serve me well, then you shall be 
rewarded at the time of my apotheosis."  He stepped through 
the rip in space-time and vanished from view.

'It is you who will be serving me, Sephiroth,' Bison thought 
angrily.  

The leader of Shadowlaw relaxed his stance and raised his 
right hand, studying his wrist thoughtfully.  It was better to 
endure an unpleasant encounter than use this, he decided.  
Sephiroth was useful to him now, though the future was another 
matter.  There might well come a time when he would have to 
test the power of the Ultra Psycho Drive against the Son of
Jenova.

It was Shadowlaw's best kept secret... a machine locked away
in a place only Bison knew of, locked away with the scientists
who created it for him.  The final revision of his Psycho
Drive, the machine that enhanced his Psycho-Power.  He 
had tested it a couple of times in encounters with certain 
fighters of Ultra, and been deeply pleased by the results.  
The machine amplified his intrinsic Psycho-Power to
unprecedented heights, raising his abilities to god-like levels.
He was confident that the drive gave him the strength to stand
against any foe, no matter how powerful.  

Using the drive was a last resort, though.  Once his charged
store of Psycho Power wore down, he was dangerously vulnerable
for a period of time until his body recovered.  The scientists
had also warned of the hazards of cumulative side-effects and
addiction, speculating that using the drive could take years
off his life.  In Bison's mind, "life span" was a term which
applied to other people.  He had every intention of living
forever.

'Sephiroth,' he thought.  'Do not push me.  You'll find I'm 
stronger than you realize.'

The evil mastermind whirled and stalked into the tunnel which 
led back to the main base.  He signaled the communications 
officer back in the control room.  "I am on my way back.  
Ready the holographic emitters for transmission," he 
commanded.  "And get me Sagat.

- - - - -

"Sir!" the secretary squeaked ineffectually.  "You don't have 
an appointment... you can't go in..."

Sagat strode past her without a glance.  The bookish woman 
scrambled to keep from being run over. 

"It's all right," Nabiki told her employee.  She motioned to 
her office door.  "Come inside, if you please."

She escorted the fighter into her darkened office, closing the 
large oak doors behind them.  "Congratulations on your victory 
tonight," she said.  "Now, is there something I can do for 
you?"

Sagat did not say a word.  Instead he removed a device from 
his belt and tossed it onto the carpet.  The blocky little 
contraption hummed to life, righting itself on small 
mechanical legs.  After a momentary flicker, it projected a 
holographic image of a familiar caped figure directly into the 
air.  M. Bison fixed his gaze upon Nabiki and grinned.

"How do you do, Ms. Tendou?" he asked cordially. Sagat took 
his place beside Bison's hologram, flexing his fingers in a 
distinctly threatening manner.

Nabiki leaned back against her desk and crossed her arms. 
"Bison.  Did you enjoy tonight's show?" she asked calmly.

"A fine spectacle," the crimelord acknowledged.  "I watched 
with great interest.  In fact, it reminded me how very much I 
desire to have Ultra as my very own."

"It's not for sale," Nabiki said flatly.  "As you well know."

"I am weary of this farce," Bison grumbled, his mask of 
blatantly false congeniality vanishing entirely.  "Ultra will 
be mine.  You will sign the controlling interest over to me at 
once."

"No," she said.

"As you wish.  Sagat?  Break her scrawny little neck."

"With pleasure," the kickboxer snarled.  He reached a powerful 
arm towards Nabiki's throat, moving far too fast for her to 
possibly avoid.

"Ray Wing," came a voice from the darkness.

An invisible bubble of force folded itself around Sagat before 
his fingers reached Nabiki's neck.  His eyes widened in 
surprise as the spell lifted him off the ground.  "Wha...?" he 
began.

Lina Inverse flicked her wrist, and Sagat's body flew 
backwards.  He rocketed through the hologram of M. Bison and 
crashed noisily into the far office wall.  

Bison's grin faltered slightly.  "Inverse."

"Got it in one!" Lina congratulated him impishly. 

"I am retaining Ms. Inverse's services for security," Nabiki 
told the crimelord.  "I will not be threatened by you, Bison.  
Ultra will not be threatened.  We have the means to defend 
ourselves."

"Hey," Lina asked, jerking a thumb at Sagat.  "Do you need 
this guy for next week?"

"Not that I'm aware," the CEO of Ultra replied.

"Right."  The sorcery genius flicked her wrist in a dismissive 
motion, and Sagat's body crashed through the office window, 
tumbling to the street below.  

"Lina," Nabiki admonished.  "Please be a little more mindful 
of the state of my office, if you would."

The red-headed Omega fighter shrugged. "Oops."

Bison regarded Lina with bemused curiosity.  "A bodyguard.  
How quaint.  Do you really think this mere child can protect 
you from me, Tendou Nabiki?"

Lina smirked mischievously.  "'Mere child?' Come on, Bison.  
Are you really that dense?"

"You have some modicum of power, girl," the crimelord 
acknowledged.  "But even you cannot hope to stand between me 
and what I desire."

A new voice rang out from the shadows.  "Ah, but since when 
did Lina Inverse stand alone?"

Bison turned to the sound of the intruding voice, and watched 
as Naga the White Serpent stepped into view.  The tall, 
incredibly busty sorceress flipped her long black hair back 
over her shoulder and moved into place on the other side of 
Tendou Nabiki.  

"Oh," the crimelord said with a bark of laughter.  "You.  
Inverse, at least, has certain credentials which must be 
respected.  But you?  Pshaw."

Naga's expression of utter confidence did not waver in the 
slightest.  Bison's disrespectful mockery rolled like water 
off Mr. Duck's back - there was no being alive so thoroughly 
marinated in self-satisfaction as the sorceress who called 
herself the White Serpent.

"Cheeky bandit," Naga chided.  "You believe you can disregard 
Lina's most powerful ally and rival, simply because you are 
protected behind some silly projection?"

"You were made to be disregarded, woman," Bison taunted.

The leather-clad sorceress stepped forward.  "For that, you 
shall witness the power of my newest spell... RING OF 
SUPERIORITY!"  

With that, Naga thrust a hand into the air, planted the other 
fist on her hip, and began to laugh in that special way.  "OH-
HO-HO-HO-HO!"

As the White Serpent continued to laugh, a pair of translucent 
images of the sorceress appeared on either side of her.  Peals 
of smug mirth belted forth from each of the phantom 
duplicates.  

"Honestly," Bison scoffed.  "Is this meant to be a jest?"

Naga's ample chest quaked with laughter, an effect mirrored in 
each of her illusory duplicates.  The images split once more, 
forming another pair of Nagas... which in turn spawned another 
set of phantom replicas.

"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 

Bison's right eyebrow twitched. 

The duplicates multiplied again and again, until the 
holographic emitter was completely ringed with laughing images 
of Naga, pressed together side by side.  And still more 
phantoms appeared, overlapping one another as they formed the 
Ring of Superiority.  

Lina recoiled, horrified.  The power of the spell was focused 
primarily to the target within the Ring, but it was still 
pretty awful for those on the outside.  'Is this spell... 
worse than the Giga Slave?' she thought, momentarily losing 
her sense of perspective.

"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 

Bison continued to grin, but with obvious effort.  He tried to 
say something, but he found the muscles of his jaw had knotted 
themselves like chords of steel, utterly immobile.  A vein 
pulsed on his forehead.

The host of Nagas slowly began to rotate.  

"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 

The images of the laughing sorceress spun around Bison, 
gaining speed with every revolution.  His teeth creaked like 
old floorboards under the fearsome pressure of his grin.

The holographic emitter began to spark.

"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 
"OH-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO-HO!" 

As the projector finally caved in to the overwhelming pressure 
and self-destructed, Lina could see Bison reach up to clutch 
head in pain.  She could have sworn that his hair was smoking.  
The hologram flickered, de-rezzed, and then vanished entirely.

"Naga!" she cried, landing an elbow-drop on her partner's 
head.  "What the hell was THAT?"

"Merely the latest weapon in my unparalleled arsenal," Naga 
stated proudly.  

"Excuse me," Nabiki interrupted, fishing in her drawer for her 
bottle of Advil.  "What exactly is going on here?  I arranged 
to hire you, Lina.  I didn't say anything about..."

"Ah-ah-ah," Lina broke in, wagging her finger.  "You said my job 
was to keep you safe, right?  Well, Bison was right about one 
thing.  I can't do that by myself."

"But you..."

"You need around-the-clock protection, Miss Nabiki," Lina 
interrupted.  "Somebody to watch over you at all times.  One 
person won't do the trick.  Besides, what will you do when I'm 
scheduled to fight?  Someone has to watch your back then, you 
know."

Nabiki frowned, but she could see the logic.  "Well..."

"Don't worry, don't worry!" the sorcery genius reassured her.  
"Naga's salary will only be twenty percent of mine, okay?"

The tall sorceress tossed her head.  "I think you mean a 
HUNDRED and twenty percent, Lina!"

"WHAT?" Lina whirled on her partner.  "Are you saying you 
should be paid MORE than me?"

"Why not?" Naga asserted.  "Should I not be paid according to 
my true worth?"

"Your true... why you!"

Nabiki dry-swallowed her painkillers and listened to the two 
mages dicker over what Naga should be paid.  'I'll probably 
end up paying her about half of Lina's salary,' she 
speculated.  'Which is still a lot more than I hoped to be 
spending on protection.'

Images reared themselves in her mind: Sagat's hand reaching 
for her throat rose in her mind, the bloody pulp of Mr. Satan 
quivering in the corner, Bison's hideous glowing eyes.  'It's 
worth it,' she decided.  

- - - - -

M. Bison's hat lay next to him, smoldering.  The psychic 
defense circuits he'd had built into the rim had overloaded 
under the surprising power of Naga's attack.  'And even that was 
filtered through the buffer of the hologram emitters,' he 
thought.  'I underestimated her.'

But his ruined hat did not concern him.  The throbbing agony 
in his skull did not concern him either.  The quivering mass 
of his black-clad command officers huddled in the corner, 
lolling and gibbering in the aftermath of the Ring of 
Superiority, also did not concern him.  

The lord of Shadowlaw laughed out loud, disregarding his 
pounding headache.  Things were working out even better than 
he'd planned.

Let Tendou Nabiki hire the sorceresses to protect her worthless 
hide.  Those two women were the worst moneygrubbers in Ultra.  
They would squeeze every drop they could manage from Ultra's 
accounts to justify the cost of their services.  The Tendou 
girl would pay dearly for her false sense of security.

And false it was.  She had no idea that her ivory tower was 
laced with black strands of corruption, all leading back to 
him.  He had moles scattered through the Ultra organization, 
watching and waiting, telling him all he wished to know.

Especially the girl Lain.

Bison smiled.  He would have to thank Controversial Jack 
before he threw the man into the duck pit.  If Jack had not 
been so keen to play his ridiculous pranks on Shadowlaw, Bison 
might never have known that a hacker of such prodigious skill 
served in the offices of the sports federation.  Lain was 
worth the price of Ultra all by herself.

Of course, she was too idealistic to turn to his side, he'd 
determined, but that was immaterial. Lain had a darling little 
friend named Alice, helpless and normal in every way.  Young 
Alice attended school each day, never realizing that she 
carried a charge next her brain stem powerful enough to wipe 
out a classroom full of her fellow students.  But Lain knew 
about it.  So long as Lain knew, she would serve him.

Bison grinned savagely, in spite of his sore teeth.

'So,' he thought, 'she's hired Omega fighters to protect her.'  
That was fine.  That was just fine.  Thanks to Lain's 
manipulation of Ultra's financial records, the Tendou girl 
believed she had a surplus of cash which simply didn't exist.  
She would continue blithely on, spending and spending, until 
one day she realized that the coffers of Ultra were dry.

On that day, her financial barriers would crumble.  And she 
would learn the true meaning of a hostile takeover.

'Meanwhile, we have Inverse in the picture,' Bison pondered.  
He had no intention of directly confronting the young 
sorceress - he knew all too well how dangerous she could be.  
'But let us see how many places she can really be at once.'

Bison strode over to an abandoned work station and tapped a 
few keys.  An image from a surveillance satellite flickered 
into view, focusing in to the Nerima district of Tokyo.  
Electronic eyes from the depths of space watched as a young 
woman, her hair pulled into a soft ponytail over one shoulder, 
swept the landing of the Tendou Dojo.

'The stakes,' he thought, 'have now been raised.'

- - - - -

End of Episode 66

- - - - - 


++++++++++++++++++++++++
MTCFF ULTRA #66 RESULTS:
++++++++++++++++++++++++

][ TAROU recovers and rejects an offer from BISON
][ BISON hires DARK SCHNEIDER to seduce NABIKI
][ SEPHIROTH schemes to arrange a bout with WASHUU
][ B-KO takes a break at home
][ ROADBUSTERS defeat JUSENKYOU SURVIVORS
][ TAROU leaves on a quest for more power
][ LINA INVERSE defeats GALLY
][ SEPHIROTH interferes with DARK SCHNEIDER'S seduction 
attempt
][ TEAM ANYTHING-GOES defeats TEAM SAMURAI, winning two 
doughnuts but no belts.
][ DUO/GUNDAM DEATHSCYTHE defeats SHINJI/EVA UNIT 01
][ JACK books a Loser Leaves Ultra match for GALLY and SHINJI
][ DARK SCHNEIDER defeats SEPHIROTH in a grudge match
][ SAGAT defeats MR. SATAN
][ NABIKI hires LINA INVERSE and NAGA as bodyguards


--------------
AUTHOR'S NOTES
--------------

I had an English teacher once who told me: "Brevity is the 
soul of good writing."  

I never believed him for an instant.

A note about Gally's abilities.  All the new features I 
described for her are pulled from the Gunnm (Battle Angel 
Alita) manga, from volume five and beyond.  In the comic, she 
gains these abilities after becoming the first special "Tuned" 
agent for the super-city Zalem.  In this divergent Ultra 
timeline, Washuu has simply built her a body with the same 
kinds of powers.  

Many thanks to Twoflower for all his help with the chapter, 
and to Kristen Smirnov for keeping the communication lines 
open and sharing her ideas with me.  And best of luck to 
Kristen next week.

Grayson Towler
March 2001