The UltraDome was never empty.

Certainly, there were times when the 'Dome was deserted, when a 
watcher's gaze could travel from the canvas-shrouded ring in the center 
of the floor through the cavernous emptiness to the naked steel beams 
that supported the vaulted ceiling and the brilliant spotlights high 
above.  At such times, one could look down on the bleachers that, for 
brief periods once a week, contained thirty thousand screaming, 
cheering, feeling specimens of that multifarious species called 
'humanity'; see the alcohol stains and the candy wrappers, the soda cans 
and popcorn boxes, left there by the UltraDome's janitorial staff who 
tried their best but could never, never get everything out, no matter 
how much Nabiki Tendo exhorted them...

Thirty thousand human beings coming together, even briefly, in a single 
place, leave traces beyond the physical.  Psychic impressions linger.  
Graveyards, especially the older ones, are dark and solemn places; the 
lines of mourners that come and go over hundreds of years leave behind 
an almost palpable feeling of grief and loss.  Likewise, there are 
monasteries whose very walls project an aura of peace and contentment, 
the legacy of generations of monks whose thoughts and feelings have 
sunken slowly into the great stone walls.  

The aura of the UltraDome is excitement.  Anyone who walks through can 
feel it, an almost subliminal fizz running along the nerves and 
synapses.  Adrenaline rises, attention heightens; even with the lights 
dimmed and the bleachers empty, as people enter the 'Dome the hair on 
the back of their neck rises.  The UltraDome says:  Things *happened* 
here.  They're going to happen again.  Get ready.

*-*-*

The UltraDome was never empty.

Lieutenant Lei Wulong of the Tokyo PD was new to Ultra.  He'd caught a 
few episodes on TV, of course, like almost everyone did, but it never 
interested him very much.  In his line of work he got to see plenty of 
thugs beating on each other, even do some beating of his own, and if the 
people on Ultra were a little more skilled than common criminals, so 
what?

At least, that's what he'd thought before.  Then, in the course of his 
investigation into Johnny Cage's murder, he'd followed a line that led 
right to the UltraDome, and (much to his colleagues' surprise) he'd 
wound up fighting in Ultra himself.  His first fight put the lie to at 
least one of his cherished beliefs.  The fighters weren't 'a little more 
skilled'.  They were some of the best, and he had the bruises to prove 
it.  And if he was wrong about the fights, what else was he wrong about?  
Late at night, Lei'd poured over the history of the Ultra tournament.   
It was ridiculous.  Unbelievable.  Utterly insane.  And unfortunately 
for his peace of mind, it was also true.

Now, for Lei, as he walked through the deserted UltraDome, ghosts walked 
with him.  Ghosts filled the bleachers; ghosts crowded the shrouded ring 
and cavorted in the air above.  

Kasumi, smiling, pushed her broom over the arena floor.  

Lina Inverse gave a victory-sign and cast a spell that shattered 
mountains.  

The Orochi, smirking, ripped Lina's heart out of her chest.

Johnny Cage met Shingo in the air with a flying kick.

Xelloss winked and held a finger to his lips.

MewTwo rent the ceiling asunder and floated down in a sphere of psychic 
force.

Askua screamed as Third Impact dissolved the world.

Johnny Cage stood before two beaten children and their tormentors, and 
shook his head.

Bison controlled his captive fighter like a toy, and laughed.

Ranma sent Sagat spiraling to the ceiling in the grip of a hurricane.

Lina wielded a blade forged from primal chaos to slice through 
dimensions.

Johnny Cage...

Johnny Cage slumped dead in a chair in a squalid little apartment, and 
the last word on his lips was 'Ultra'.

*Focus, Wulong,* Lei thought to himself.  *All that stuff about gods and 
demons doesn't matter right now.  Except that it shows Cage was in a lot 
more danger, just by being here, then I imagined.  And yet he was 
working so hard to come back.*

Standing by the ring, Lei stepped into the tiger fighting stance and 
began a kata.  Moving slowly at first, his eyes closed, he drifted from 
one stance to another, movements gentle as the breeze, sliding easily 
into a lazy routine of kicks and punches.

*Cage was a jobber.  Unflattering but true.  Almost every time he won, 
it was by a fluke or a trick.*

His easy punches became harder and faster.  Stepping into the crane 
stance, Li delivered several high kicks to an invisible target, then 
dropped to a crouch and hammered at the empty air with a sequence of 
open-handed palm thrusts.

*He did a lot of nasty things back in the days of Sex and Violence.  Is 
that what his murder was about?  Then why wait?  Why hold a grudge for 
so long?*

Dropping into the snake stance, Li delivered a blurringly fast series of 
high punches, then spun around to deliver a brutal roundhouse kick.  
Snapping back with a swift backhand to face his unseen target, he jabbed 
with an elbow before dropping to the ground for a leg sweep.

*He left Ultra.  He'd been gone for seasons, with a lucrative job in the 
American movie sequel industry, but then he showed back up in Ultra and 
wanted in.  Why?  And why would this kill him?  Was it one the people he 
annoyed in his bids to return?  Did someone not want him leaving 
Hollywood?  Or did this someone not want him joining -*

Abruptly, Lei's punch was blocked.  As his eyes snapped open in shock, 
he instinctively aimed a swift kick at whoever was in front of him.

Iori Yagami easily avoided the kick and smirked.  "Wulong.  There's a 
gym just down the hall, you know."

"Yagami," Lei snapped.  He only knew the red-haired fighter through 
Ultra records and reputation, but what he'd heard wasn't good.  Iori had 
badly beaten a lot of people both in and out of the ring.  He wielded 
some sort of hereditary flame powers, somehow linked to the Orochi, but 
apparently calling the fire hurt Iori almost as badly as it did his 
opponent.  The kid could take a lot of pain, and enjoyed making other 
people feel it.  As far as Lei had any suspects, Iori was a prime one.  
"Why'd you interrupt me?"

"Eh."  Iori snorted, lifting a jug to his lips.  The smell of cheap sake 
filled the area.  "Felt like it.  What kind of moron fights with his 
eyes closed anyway?"

"Balance," Lei explained briefly.  "You aren't always going to be able 
to see the ground.  Why are you out here bothering me?"

Iori shrugged.  "It's dark.  It's quiet.  Thought I'd be able to drink 
in peace."  Suiting action to words, he took another long drink from the 
jug in his left hand.  "Got a problem with that?"

"I didn't know you drank."  The Gamma roster bios Lei'd accessed hadn't 
mentioned it.

"I do now."

"Hm."

Eyes determinedly open, Lei continued his kata.  Iori watched him for a 
moment, some unreadable emotion flickering behind his eyes, then 
shrugged and wandered off.  Lei dropped back into his practice, losing 
himself in contemplation and the smooth routine of kicks and punches 
into darkened air.  Some time passed in this dreamy, almost meditative 
state.

"So.  Figure out who offed Cage yet?"

Blinking as he snapped out of his trance state, Lei spun and stared at 
the stands.  Iori sat casually in the second row, his feet up on the 
seats in front of him, jug by his side.  Seeing he'd gotten the reaction 
he wanted, the redhead grinned nastily and waved.

"Yagami.  What are you talking about?"

Iori rolled his eyes.  "Give me a break, Wulong.  Johnny Cage - the most 
pathetic Ultra groupie in history - gets beaten to death in his 
apartment, and the very next episode 'Super-cop' -" Iori sneered the 
nickname - "shows up in Ultra, fights once, and wanders around asking 
questions ever after.  Maybe Dan thinks you're just fighting for 
'justice'.  Anybody with half a brain knows better."

"Cute."  *Fight back,* Lei thought.  *Keep him off balance.*  "Naga 
figured it out less than a week after I showed up.  It took this long 
for you to get it?"

"It's taken you this long to figure out who killed him?" Iori inquired.  
"No, wait.  You haven't."  He took a swig.  "Baddest PD officer in 
Tokyo, and you don't know crap."

Lei growled low under his breath.  "I've got some very promising leads.  
Punk."  *Damn, he's getting to me.*  "You've got better?  Go ahead.  
Show me how smart you are."

"Yeah, right."  Iori rolled his eyes again.  "You couldn't interrogate a 
room full of preschoolers with that technique.  Good thing you came into 
Ultra as a 'fighter'."  He drank from the jug again, and belched loudly.

Lei snorted.  This was getting nowhere.  He turned and walked away.

"Too many little enemies, not enough big ones."

Raising an eyebrow, Lei turned back.  "You finally have something worth 
listening to?"

"Ya know, I've been in Ultra from the beginning," Iori said casually.  
"Saw Cage's whole miserable career.  And in the whole damn sorry mess, 
he didn't make any big enemies.  He just wasn't good enough at being 
bad."  The redhead barked a laugh.  "Not like me.  I got plenty of 
enemies.  Thirty thousand of 'em.  I get dragged out on slow days to 
work 'em up."

"Stop pitying yourself," Lei growled.  "You're alive.  He's not."

Iori shook with laughter.  "Pitying myself, cop?  I couldn't care less 
what those bastards think.  The one I pity is Cage.  He finally got out 
of here, and what does he do but turn right around and try to come back?  
That dumbass."

"Dumbass?"  Lei raised an eyebrow.

"Sure.  What's in Ultra for somebody like him?  He'll get ignored half 
the time, beat up by little kids and newcomers the other half.  Better 
off dead then taking it in the ass like that."

Taking a long drink, Iori leaned back and closed his eyes.  Lei shrugged 
and turned away again -

"That's what killed him in the end, you know."

Lei blinked.  "What?"

"What killed him.  Coming back to Ultra.  If he'd stayed in Hollywood, 
he'd be alive today."

Vaulting the first row of seats in a single jump, Lei leaned menacingly 
over Iori's reclining form.  "Iori.  What do you know?"

"Back off, 'Super-cop'."  Iori rolled gracefully to his feet, red-orange 
flames flaring to life in his hands.  "I can take Sagat and Saotome, I 
can sure as hell take you."

"What do you KNOW?"

"Know?"  Iori grinned at Lei's grim expression.  "I know Ultra looks 
pretty nice now.  A 'respectable corporation.'  Back in the beginning it 
was a hell of a lot nastier.  Cities wiped off the map.  You know most 
people don't even remember there was a moon?  There was.  We blew it up 
a few years back.  Got away with most of it because God Herself was 
protecting Ultra.  A lot of shit went down back then."

"I don't need a history lesson, Yagami," Lei growled.

"Cage IS history, cop.  If you go by what Ultra is now, you'll never 
figure it out."

"You know something.  What?"

Iori smirked.  "What do I know?  Maybe that everybody isn't as nice and 
cheerful - or as nasty and brutal - as they seem.  Maybe I know that 
some things from back when Ultra began are still hanging around.  Maybe 
I know what the third-string fighters do when they vanish for three, 
four weeks at a time.  Or maybe, Wulong -" and here Iori tossed the 
empty jug of sake at Lei, so that the policeman instinctively brought up 
his hands to shield his face - "maybe I'm just pulling your chain."

Catching the jug easily, Lei threw it aside.  "Iori, you -"  He blinked.  
The UltraDome was empty.  "Iori!  Get back here!"

Nothing moved.

*Irritating punk.*  Eyes alert for the slightest flicker, Lei scanned 
the entire UltraDome.  Nothing.  "He'll show up again," the lieutenant 
said aloud.  "And when he does, I'll get the truth if I have to beat it 
out of him."

Not even the ghosts bothered to answer him.

*-*-*

"So.  You think you're ready for tonight?"

A training dummy exploded into a cloud of shredded rope and wooden 
splinters.

"You're my teacher.  Why don't you tell me?"

Another dummy, decapitated, clattered to the floor.

Watching as Akane battered her way through a legion of practice dummies, 
the man in the red gi shrugged.  "If I was training you as a Shotokan 
fighter, I'd say no.  Your style is sloppy, you don't practice any move 
long enough to perfect it, you lack focus..."

"I do not lack focus!" Akane snapped, stung.  

"As a Shotokan fighter, I said."  Ken chuckled.  "Your Anything Goes 
style is the least disciplined school of martial arts I've ever seen.  I 
learned the basic form of the Dragon Punch and then spent years 
perfecting it; you learned the basic form and then moved on to other 
techniques.  It goes against all my instincts to teach you like this, 
Akane; it feels sort of like building a house without laying the 
foundation."

"But I have the foundation!"  The last practice dummy hung from the 
dojo's ceiling; Akane pummeled it with a series of midair punches before 
tearing through its chest with a single flying kick.  Panting, she 
dropped to the ground.  "I was a trained fighter before you offered to 
teach me.  I'm not starting from scratch; I'll learn your Shotokan moves 
and stances, but I have to incorporate them into my family's school.  
It's part of who I am."

"Then the only person who can judge you is you."  The blond-haired man 
stared into his student's eyes.  "So.  Do you feel ready?"

"Yes."  The young woman straightened.  "Yes.  I do."

Ken nodded.  "I'd be happier if you trained for a few more weeks, at 
least... but yeah.  You're ready."

Akane smiled as she set the blonde wig firmly on her head.  "Then I 
guess it's time for 'Roxy' to go out and knock 'em dead."

*-*-*

"Jaaaaaack..."

Muttering to herself, Nabiki Tendo stalked down a darkened hallway in 
the basement of the UltraDome.  There were lights, but they were off; 
one of Nabiki's own cost-cutting measures to save electricity in little-
used areas of the monolithic building.  Not that the thought gave her 
any consolation at all.

"27, 28, 29, 30."  Pansuto (but never to his face) Tarou, trailing along 
behind his irate employer,  nodded and gestured to a closed door no 
different from a hundred others.  "Assuming he gave us the right 
directions, he's in there."

"I suppose this is better than the top of the dome," Nabiki sighed.  "Or 
Yaga's dressing room."  Swinging open the door, she went in.

Picture a long, bare room, empty metal shelves screwed directly into the 
concrete walls.  The floor was the foundation of the building; the 
ceiling a mass of cables and piping, a single naked light bulb swinging 
between them on frayed wire.  Spider webs collected in the corners, dust 
collected on the floor, and in the center was Controversial Jack.  The 
spiky-haired one squatted Indian-style on the floor:  a legal pad was in 
his lap, a pencil behind his ear, and a small rubber duck sat 
companionably on the floor next to him.

"You know, Jack, this gag has gotten really old," commented Nabiki.  
"Where'd all your stuff go?"

Jack shrugged.  "Mr. Duck?  Where'd my stuff go?"

The duck squeaked.

"You sold it and donated the money to the Bison Defense Fund?  How 
controversial of you!"

"JaaAAAAck..."

"Don't get your panties in a knot, Nabs," interrupted Jack cheerfully.  
"This Old Dojo has it waiting for me somewhere.  I just wanted to get 
away from my computers and my dictation machines and my baby-harp-seal-
upholstered reclining chair for a while."

Tarou smirked.  "Do tell."  Then he blinked, and growled.  "Her PANTIES 
in a knot?"

"Yeah, panties, Tarou.  I'd think you'd be familiar with the word by 
now."  Nabiki placed one slim hand on Tarou's shoulder, holding him 
back.  "You see, Beekster, I'm just not the wild man I was.  I'm losing 
my controversial groove.  I thought I'd come down here for a while, do 
some of that wild meditation stuff, try to rekindle my controversial 
little inner pyromaniac, you know, right?"

"No, I don't."  Nabiki frowned.  "I assume all that... whatever... means 
you've got tonight's fight card lined up, right?"

"Sure!"  Leaping to his feet, Jack grinned widely.  "Some of our best 
work, Nabs, if I do say so myself.  Take a look."

Nabiki caught the legal pad as it came flying towards her.  "Thank you.  
Hm.  Marlo and Selphie.  Akane and Ranma.  Morrigan and Sakura.  
Morrigan, Jessie and Li Ping.  Morrigan, Sakura, Jessie, the other 
Sakura, Tifa, Ranma-chan, Marla, Selphie, me..." Ultra's young owner 
blinked.  "Me, Kasumi, Lilith, Felicia and a giant frozen cucumber... 
Jack, what the HELL is this?"

Jack snatched the pad back.  "Oops.  That's the layout for 
Ultratsukidoji: Legends of the Gamma Roster.  You want the next page."

Nabiki glowered.  "For your sake, Jack, that'd BETTER be a joke."

The Controversial One frowned.  "If you say so.  Poor Morrigan's going 
to be awfully disappointed, though."

"JaaAAAACK..."

"Of course it's a joke, 'Biki.  You worry too much," Jack smiled 
reassuringly.  "Here.  Fight card.  Read."

Nabiki's twitching eyebrow gradually stilled.  "Alright.  Good.  This 
last fight, though; are you sure he'll be in good enough condition?  I 
know he heals fast, but after what happened last week..."

"No problem, Beekster," grinned Jack.  "He says he's ready, and the 
doctors certified him in fighting trim.  Besides, he's fighting James."  
A squeak.  "And Mr. Duck agrees with me."

"Wonderful," snorted Tarou.  "A ringing endorsement from a rubber bath 
toy.  What could go wrong?"

The door opened quietly, and Vega strolled in.

"I had to ask."  The young man planted himself firmly between his 
employer and the Spanish fighter.  "Vega, what the hell do you want?"

"Good afternoon to you, Tarou," Vega said smoothly.  "And to you as 
well, Miss Tendo.  It is a pleasure to again see such a lovely rose, 
even among such uncouth thorns as these."

Nabiki was unimpressed.  "Save the flattery, Vega.  What can I do for 
you?" 

"Nothing at the moment, I fear."  Vega smiled ruefully.  "My business in 
this depressingly common region of the 'Dome is, unfortunately, with 
Jack Lysias.  Have I finally found his... 'office'?"

"Sure have," the spiky-haired booker confirmed.  "What's up?"

"I want a title match with Sagat."

"Sorry, Veggie," Jack said, not looking it in the slightest.  "No can 
do."

The Spaniard flexed the fingers of his right hand like claws.  "Jack, 
two weeks ago you put me in a title fight against a little girl with a 
toy gun."

"You lost," pointed out Tarou.

Vega ignored the comment.  "In the UltraReboot tournament, my opponent 
was a girl barely out of puberty."

"You lost that one, too," Jack informed him.  "What's your point?"

"My point, Mr. Lysias, is that you have made too much of my" - and here 
Vega threw such a look at Nabiki that Tarou lunged forwards, fists 
clenched.  Vega smiled with cold amusement - "my choice of 
entertainment.  I want an actual fight.  I want to demonstrate that I am 
not just another in Ultra's long series of walking jokes.  And I want 
the Gamma belt."

"Not the Hardcore belt?"  Controversial Jack smiled innocently.  
"Bulletta's added her special touch to the changes you made.  I 
understand it has hearts, daisies and fuzzy little bunny rabbits now.  
It's the most adorable thing Mr. Duck has ever seen."

Vega frowned.

"But you aren't getting a shot at Gamma, Veggie.  Not this time."  Jack 
chuckled.  "You see, Sagat's still out with a bad knee.  If he fights 
this week, he could injure himself permanently.  I'd hate to see him 
crippled in the ring, wouldn't you?"

"You put Sagat in a handicap title match against Ranma and Akane," Vega 
growled.  "You put me in a handicap match against Tifa, Mousse and Bean 
Bandit - which I won, and won handily.  Since when do you care about 
what happens to Bison's rejects?"

"I don't."  Mr. Duck squeaked a confirmation.  "Frankly, Veggie, I 
wouldn't care if you and Sagat tore each other into chewy, juicy, bite-
size pieces in the ring.  But you're asking for a fight with your old 
Shadowlaw buddy, and my keen Contro-senses detect that the fix is in."

The Spanish fighter threw back his head and laughed.  "Jack, if you 
think Sagat would ever throw a fight, even to me, you know absolutely 
nothing about him."

"True, true."  Jack smiled.  "And I might let it go ahead anyway, just 
to see what would happen, except for one tiny detail."

"And that detail is?" inquired Vega.

"I don't like you."  Jack smirked.  "Don't let the door hit you on the 
way out."

Vega flushed.  His smiling, casual expression vanished as if it'd never 
been.  Rage burning in his narrowed eyes, the cage-fighter opened his 
mouth, poised to deliver a blistering response -

The door slammed open again.

"Jack."  The Great Yaga stood angrily in the doorway.  "I want a word 
with you."

Tarou groaned.  "This is just getting worse and worse."

"Perfect!"  Jack beamed around the room.  "First Vega, and now you.  My 
two favorite people have come to visit.  Yaga, before you say anything, 
I've got you booked for both a Hardcore flaming cage match with Marlo 
and Gary and a wedding-gown match with Morrigan.  Which one do you want 
to use your mad contracting skillz to unbook?  I think you'll look 
really cute in a lacy gown and veil.  Very feminine."

"Jack, you went too far," Yaga growled at the little booker.  Leaning 
casually against the wall, unconcerned mask once again in place, Vega 
watched the confrontation with apparent amusement.  "You planned the 
whole thing from the beginning.  If I left the stipulations as they 
were, I would have lost to Sakura without landing a blow, and been 
humiliated.  If I used my contract to nullify her advantage, I would win 
easily, look like a heel, and then be humiliated by Duo Maxwell.  Either 
way, you win."

Jack nodded.  "You got it."

"How DARE you do this to me?"

"Easy."  Jack grinned at Yaga's angry expression.  "You did it to 
yourself.  You could have conceded, left the ring gracefully, and you'd 
have been fine.  Instead, you pulled out your contract, abused Sakura, 
and got exactly what you deserved."

"You used Sakura to make me look bad."  Yaga glared back.  "Who's more 
at fault here, Jack?  The person who beat her, or the person who 
arranged for her to be beaten, just so you could score a few more points 
off me?"

"Don't you think I know that?"  Jack's grin flickered for a moment, then 
returned at full strength.  "You started this, Yaga.  I'm Ultra's head 
booker.  You're just a washed-up old fighter with a contract.  You may 
have an ace, but I'm holding cards you don't even know are in the deck.  
NOBODY messes with Controversial Jack Lysias."

"That's your excuse?  'Don't mess with Jack?""  Two swift steps, and 
Yaga was looming over Jack, fists clenched.  "This is not happening 
again."

Jack didn't flinch in the slightest.  "Breach of contract, Yaga, breach 
of contract.  Hit me and you'll be out on the street with a 'Will Be 
Pompous For Food' sign.  So lay it on me.  Right in the kisser.  
Please."

"Listen to me, Jack," Yaga growled, his face inches from the other's.  
"If you ever put me in a position like that again, I will hit you.  I 
will hunt you down and beat the hell out of you.  Do you understand?"

"You know, your eyes look really neat when you're angry," Jack 
commented.  "They bulge way out, and you have all those little red 
streaks running through them -"

"Do.  You.  Understand."  

"Yeah, yeah, I understand."  Yaga stepped back, and Jack climbed to his 
feet.  "Jeez, all this commotion.  People would think that you cared 
more about Sakura then how you look to your fans.  People might even 
think that you had fans, plural, without counting Hannibal Lecter over 
there."

Vega snorted.

"Hrmph."  Yaga stalked to the door.

"Yaga."  Nabiki's calm voice stopped the wrestler in his tracks.

"Yes, Miss Tendo?"

"No contract is unbreakable.  If you threaten a member of my staff 
again, whether it breaches your contract or not, I will break it, and 
then I will break you.  You will be removed from Ultra.  Do YOU 
understand?"

"Perfectly."  Yaga stepped through the doorway.

"Oh, Yaga, I forgot," Jack said cheerfully.  Yaga paused again, glancing 
over his shoulder.  "Did you want to alter the Marlo fight or the 
Morrigan fight?"

"Neither."

"Great!  Now, for the Morrigan fight, I have some frilly pink panties I 
want you to wear -"

"I don't think so."

"Great!  Then for the Hardcore cage match, I've got some extra-rusty 
barbed wire -"

"Jack.  Enough."  Yaga's frown was fearsome enough to crack rocks.  "I 
am not fighting today.  My contract allows this at my discretion.  
Please stop wasting my time."  Slamming the door open, Yaga stomped out.

"Of course," muttered Jack as the echoes of Yaga's footsteps died away, 
"this means war."

"Are you going to need a bodyguard, Jack?" Nabiki inquired.  "I could 
get Lina or Naga to start watching out for you."

"Don't worry about it, Beekster," said Jack cheerfully.  "Yaga's 
bluffing.  Let him drive up his blood pressure all he wants.  The day he 
gets the best of me is the day I hang up my official Ultra Fan Club 
badge and spiky hair.  He doesn't have the slightest idea what Mr. Duck 
and I can book up."

"That's what I'm afraid of," sighed Nabiki.  "Tarou, why didn't you help 
him?"

"Much as I'd have loved to beat up Yaga, Jack can take care of himself," 
Tarou stated.  "I'm your bodyguard.  I was busy guarding you."

"Guarding me?  I wasn't the one being threatened... wait."  Nabiki 
blinked.  "You think I can't handle Vega by myself?"  She glanced back 
to see the Spanish fighter still leaning unconcernedly against the wall.  
"Tarou, he wasn't going to pull anything."

"I do not think he was worried that I would, as you say, 'pull 
anything', Miss Tendo."  Stepping to the door, Vega smiled at Tarou.  
"Jealousy is such an ugly emotion, don't you think?"

Tarou growled.

"Jealousy?"  Nabiki blinked.

"But in your case, Miss Tendo, I can understand his motivation."  Vega 
bowed gracefully.  "Farewell."  And he was gone.

"That guy," commented Jack, "freaks me out.  Okay, Nabs, anything else 
you want to cover?"

"No."  Nabiki paused thoughtfully, then frowned.  "No, that should do 
it."

"Okay!"  Jack smiled widely.  "Now, out, out, out.  Busy little booker 
needs to work."

Shrugging, Nabiki and Tarou left.  As they walked down the hallway, a 
fragment of conversation drifted back to Jack:

"What did he mean, jealousy?"

"Who knows what that fop means?  Maybe he was talking about Yaga..."

Silence.

Controversial Jack stared at the bare concrete walls for a long time.

*-*-*

And slowly, slowly, people began to line up around the massive rounded 
bulk of the UltraDome.  Lemming-like they came, trooping through the 
barricaded streets and filling the acres of parking lots surrounding the 
structure.  The pressure built, and built, until finally the great doors 
slammed open and thirty thousand men, women and children flooded in like 
a human tidal wave, cresting over the bleachers and settling there, 
waiting for that voice that says...

                                     LIVE!
                              FROM THE ULTRADOME!
                             THE BIGGEST SPECTACLE
                            IN ANIME AND VIDEO GAME
                              SPORTS ENTERTAINMENT
                                AND IMPROFANFIC!
                                IT'S TIME FOR...

                { M A G I C A L  T R O U B L E S H O O T I N G }
                {    C R O S S O V E R    F I G H T I N G      }
                {             F E D E R A T I O N              }
                {                .-----------.                 }
                {                | U-L-T-R-A |                 }
                {                `-----------'                 }
                {          http://www.mtcffultra.com           }

                    Episode 79:  Aftermaths and Altercations
                             Written by:  Ithaqua
                      Additional scene(s) by: Jesse Ellman
                       MTCFF Ultra created by:  Twoflower

*-*-*

"Are you ready?"

And the UltraDome was loud.

"I said, ARE YOU READY??"

And the UltraDome was louder.

"Are you READY... for some ULTRAVIOLENCE?!?"

And the UltraDome Was Really Damn Loud.

"YES!"  His usual megacaffeinated grin firmly affixed, Hiroshi matched 
volume for volume; the UltraDome may have had thirty thousand screaming 
otaku, but the pale-haired clone announcer had... well, no one was 
certain.  Not even Washuu Hakubi could figure out just how Hiroshi 
managed to make himself heard over the incredible roar that filled the 
'Dome every showtime.  For his part, Daisuke considered it one of the 
insolvable mysteries of the universe, and was just thankful that *he* 
had a fresh set of UltraSound(tm) earplugs.  "Ladies and gentlemen, we 
have one ULTROCITY of a show for you tonight!  Duo!  Ranma!  Mousse!  
Roxy!  And a brutal, four-way Omega MARTIAN VACUUM BRAWL!  It'll be one 
knock-down, drag-out slobberknocker of a show!"

"This is beginning to drag out already," Daisuke commented.

"But before we get to the ULTRAVIOLENCE..."  Hiroshi paused for the 
cheers to die down.  "We've got a very special treat for all you Ultra 
fans.  Casting has begun for the 'Work With Me, Daisuke' movie, coming 
out next summer -"

Daisuke groaned like a lost soul.  "Oh, God, no."

"- folks, I've read the screenplay, and if you loved the wacky sitcom 
adventures we had with Rei Ayanami and a cuddly psychic duck -"

An unintelligible mutter came from Hiroshi's crumpled co-host.

"- you're not going to want to miss this!  'Work With This Movie, 
Daisuke!'  Next summer!"

"I'll mark my calendar," Daisuke sighed.  "I'll probably have a few sick 
days saved up by then..."

"So you can get off work and watch it again and again!"  Hiroshi beamed.  
"Not very ethical, Dai, but I can't blame you!"  Ignoring Daisuke's 
dirty look, the hyperactive announcer continued on.  "But that's not the 
special treat I was talking about.  Ladies and gentlemen, I want to re-
introduce you to some familiar Ultra faces.  Live, from Okayama -"

Daisuke suddenly felt a chill.

"- performing the song from the movie soundtrack that's already a hit 
single -"

The UltraTron's darkened monitors flared to life.

"- it's former Gamma competitors Yashiro, Chris, and Shermie: they are 
DANCE RIOT!"

"Hi, Ultra!" On screen, Shermie beamed at the camera through her bangs.  
Then her smile faltered slightly.  "Hello, Daisuke."

"Hello, Shermie," said Daisuke.  There was a strangely wistful note in 
his voice.

"I'm sorry we couldn't be at the UltraDome," Shermie continued as if he 
hadn't spoken.  "We're booked solid for months, and the trip back to 
Tokyo would ruin our schedule.  But we were so excited to be singing on 
the movie soundtrack, and since it made us big stars, and we wanted to 
show how much we appreciate it, we set up this special closed-circuit 
performance for all of you.  And Daisuke, everybody," she ran out of air 
and took a deep breath, "come see our show when we're in Tokyo, okay?"

Daisuke nodded.  "Sure.  I'll be there."

"Dai?  You know she can't hear you, right?" whispered Hiroshi.

"Oh.  Yeah.  I knew that."

"And I'm sure you look really nice with an Afro.  Anyway, um, Yashiro?"

"Like sands through the hourglass," intoned Yashiro solemnly, "these are 
the Dais of our lives." 

At which point Daisuke planted his face firmly on the table.

*-*-*

"Wasn't that great, Ultra fans!" beamed Hiroshi as the monitors went 
dark and the music died away.  "Shermie, Yashiro and Chris may have left 
the Gamma tourney behind, but that doesn't mean they're strangers to 
fame and fortune!"

"Sure, they teamed up with the Orochi and Xelloss to destroy the world, 
but it's still nice to see they're doing well," commented Daisuke, 
raising his head from the table.

"Think positive, Daisuke!"

"... I'd rather not." 

"Anyway, with our first scheduled fight, in the Lambda division, we have 
a truly ultrocious clash of opposites!  Fire and ice!  Air and 
waterfowl!  Good and -"

"Calling themselves 'Spirits of Nature,'" Daisuke interrupted with long-
practiced ease, "it's Nakoruru and Rimururu, and their pets, um..."

"Mamahaha!"

The voice of a girl cried out.  Her shout was answered by the scream of 
a hawk, echoing through the 'Dome; high among the rafters, a huge brown-
feathered bird danced through the air.  Darting between the beams, it 
slowly spiraled down to land on the gauntleted wrist of a young girl in 
white and red patterned robes.

"Shikuruu!"

A huge gray wolf stalked majestically out into the arena.  On his back 
sat another young girl.  Dressed in identically patterned blue and white 
robes, she smiled and waved to the cheering crowd.  A shining crystal of 
ice bobbed along behind the wolf and rider, floating without any visible 
means of support.  When the wolf reached the side of the ring, the girl 
in blue dismounted next to her companion, and in unison they bowed to 
the crowd.

"These girls are tough!" enthused Hiroshi.  "In their first match, they 
only lost because of Team Enlightenment's blatant cheating.  But are 
they tough enough to take on two of the most driven competitors in 
Lambda?  Here they are, Mousse and Tasuki!"

Nothing happened.

"Here they are," Hiroshi repeated, undaunted, "Mousse and Tasuki!"

Nothing continued to happen.  The crowd began to mutter.

"I'd say here they aren't," said Daisuke.  "Moving right along..."

Two points of eye-searing crimson light flared into existence high above 
the ring.  Turning slowly in mid-air, they expanded into a pair of 
giant, glaring eyes of flame.  Their burning gaze swept the crowd; 
around them, lines of dark red fire coiled into the shape of a nose and 
smiling mouth.  The face was recognizably Tasuki's.

Booing and catcalls filled the 'Dome.  The mouth kept its smile; a huge 
flaming hand appeared and faced the audience, palm out.

"Tasuki seems to be signaling for silence," Hiroshi explained, for the 
benefit of any blind people in the 'Dome.  "I wonder what he has to 
say?"

As the tumult quieted, the face of Tasuki seemed to nod once, solemnly.  
Then the hand went up to thumb its nose, and the face proceeded to blow 
a giant flaming raspberry at the crowd.  

As the crowd's anger shook the UltraDome, the master of hidden weaponry 
and the exiled bandit strolled casually up to the ring.  Mousse, up 
ahead, spun chains and knives through his hands in a cascade of 
glittering metal, while Tasuki wore a halo of fire and an innocent 
expression, further enticing the fury of his detractors.

"Love them or hate them, nobody ignores those two!" Hiroshi shouted.  
"Will Tasuki's flames be doused by the Spirits of Nature?  Or will it 
turn out that Rimururu and her sister can't take the heat?"

Tasuki snarled.  "Will you just shut up and start the fight?"

][ LAMBDA MATCH
][ SPIRITS OF NATURE vs. MOUSSE AND TASUKI
][ FIGHT!

Drawing her wooden blade as Mamahaha took flight, Nakoruru stepped 
through the ropes and bowed slightly.  Vaulting easily into the ring, 
Mousse returned the bow, then snapped his wrists; weighted chains lashed 
out from the sleeves of his robes to entwine the unprepared Ainu girl 
tightly.  With a grim smile, the Chinese boy yanked her towards him.

"Sister!" shouted Rimururu.

Daisuke winced.  "This may be the shortest Lambda fight on record..."

"Think positive, Dai!  This fight hasn't even started!"

"... if that is your new catchphrase, I will hurt you."

Nakoruru's eyes widened as she dug in her heels against Mousse's pull.  
"Mamahaha!" she called.  Screeching, the hawk plunged for Mousse's face; 
releasing the chains, he pulled out a wooden-bladed naginata and swung 
wildly at the enraged bird.  The huge brown hawk banked and swept 
upwards, easily avoiding the attacks, as Nakoruru rapidly disentangled 
herself.  

Mousse spun back to his young opponent, swinging the long-hafted polearm 
down in a crescent slash; wood met wood with a sharp crack as she 
parried the fierce blow.  He swung again, but Nakoruru ducked under the 
blade, swinging her own sword up in a sharp motion that Mousse parried 
with the naginata's haft -

"Leyla Matsube!"  Flickering with golden energy, Nakoruru darted along 
the ground and slammed into Mousse's chest.  They went down together, 
the girl jumping easily to her feet after the impact, Mousse taking a 
fraction of a second longer to roll to a standing position.  Nakoruru 
leaped into the air as the thrown naginata passed under her; at the top 
of her arc, she caught hold of Mamahaha's talons, and the hawk's 
powerful wings lifted her higher into the air.

"That may be a mistake," commented Daisuke.  "Mousse is most dangerous 
in ranged combat."

Leaning casually against the post in his corner, Tasuki glanced over to 
see a blue-robed girl and a gray-furred wolf both watching him intently.  
He glared back.  "What?"

"Shikuruu and I are keeping watch over you," the Ainu maiden stated.  
"We won't let you hit Nakoruru from behind like Haohmaru did."

Tasuki shook his head. "Kid, those two pull that kind of crap because 
they can't fight."  The Suzaku Seishi chuckled.  "Does it look like 
we're losing?"

Indeed, it didn't look that way at all; a bola wrapped tight around 
Mamahaha's wings, and with a pained cry hawk and girl plummeted to the 
mat.  Mousse was on her instantly; shouting "Fist of the White Swan!", 
he struck with what appeared to be a training potty, and Nakoruru 
staggered back.

"No!" Rimururu shouted.  "Sister!  Tag me in!"  Leaning far over the 
ropes, she reached for Nakoruru's hand as Shikuruu lunged; the wolf's 
attack distracted Mousse for long enough that Nakoruru, holding the 
bound Mamahaha gently, was able to make the tag and escape the ring.

Not giving Rimururu a chance to get her bearings, Mousse hurled a heavy 
iron frying pan at her.  The maiden ducked as her familiar crystal 
bobbed easily out of the way.  Straightening with blade in hand, she 
beat back Mousse's nunchaku with a series of forceful parries; the ice 
spirit Konril glittered, and the flurry of blows changed to a flurry of 
icicles.  Now it was Mousse's turn to go on the defensive, blocking the 
ice blasts or deflecting them with a large umbrella.

"Shikuruu, go!" called out Nakoruru as she finished untangling 
Mamahaha's wings, and the wolf lunged again, biting at Mousse's ankle; 
the Chinese boy closed his amagasa and swung it, knocking the wolf away 
but leaving himself wide open to Rimururu's final blast.  The huge 
icicle smacked into Mousse and knocked him sprawling.

"And Mousse is down, thanks to a beautiful display of tactics by the 
Ainu sisters!" cheered Hiroshi.

"Actually, 'Roshi, I think that was a blatant display of cheating by the 
Ainu sisters," disagreed Daisuke.  "Which animal belongs to each girl 
anyway?"

"I think both the wolf and the hawk assist either Nakorimu or 
Rurururu..." Hiroshi blinked.  "Um, Nakoruru or Rimururu, which makes it 
a brilliant tactic!"

"Whatever," shrugged Daisuke.  "Rimururu might be able to get some hits 
in, but Mousse has more fighting experience and effectively unlimited 
weapons.  I think this is going to get really ugly."

A handful of blunted shuriken whistled past Rimururu.  The girl pointed, 
and a curlicue of ice exploded from beneath Mousse, sending him flying 
into the air; robes billowing around him, the martial artist landed 
nimbly on his feet, striking out with his manrika-gusari.  Rimururu 
barely dodged the weighted chains and the bakuchiku which followed.  The 
small firecrackers exploded harmlessly, but the distraction was enough 
for Mousse to get close again.  The master of hidden weaponry struck at 
Rimururu with a heavy wooden staff, and she took several grazing blows 
before summoning a sheet of ice in front of her; swinging wildly, Mousse 
slipped on the ice and went sliding.  A thrown ice flower smacked into 
him, then another, and Mousse was knocked back farther, catching himself 
against the ropes.  

Pushing off the mat, Mousse rose to his feet again.  Another ice flower 
spun towards him, but was easily knocked away.  The mat beneath him was 
slick, and his robes were covered with rapidly melting fragments of the 
girl's previous blast.  This was becoming annoying.  Mousse took a 
step...

Rapidly melting ice...

The Chinese boy's robes collapsed around him.

"What a turnaround!" exclaimed Hiroshi.  "Rimiruru's ice blasts just 
triggered Mousse's Jusenkyo duck curse!  If his partner can't bail him 
out, this fight is over!"

Reaching between the ropes, Tasuki grabbed Mousse by his robes and 
yanked him out of the ring.  "You know," he said blandly, "that curse 
must really suck."

"Quack," Mousse responded sarcastically.

Tasuki sighed.  "Get your feathers straightened out, partner.  I'll deal 
with the kid."

"Quack."  Disgustedly, Mousse the duck began poking through the piled 
robes with his beak, looking for the flip-top thermos of hot water he'd 
begun to carry around. 

Swinging his tessen, Tasuki jumped into the ring.  The Ainu ice maiden, 
who'd been staring in shock at Mousse's suddenly reduced form, blinked 
and looked up at the red-headed fighter.  "What did I just do?" she 
demanded.  "What happened to him?"

Showing his fangs in a grin, Tasuki snapped his metal fan in Rimururu's 
direction.  "You turned him into a duck.  What did it look like, girl?"

Holding her blade in a defensive posture, Rimururu stepped back.  "Is it 
permanent?"

Tasuki, about to answer in the negative, spotted the look of genuine 
worry on the girl's face and smirked.  "Yeah.  Once he goes duck, he's 
stuck for the rest of his life.  The poor bastard." 

The girl brought a hand to her mouth.  "Oh, no!  Isn't there anything I 
can do for him?"

"Actually, there is." Tasuki grinned again.  "You can lose like a good 
little girl.  LEKKA SHINEN!"  A gout of fire leaped from Tasuki's fan; 
Rimururu barely got out of the way of the blast of flame as it spattered 
against the mat.  She called a flower of ice and hurled it, but - "LEKKA 
SHINEN!" - another blast reduced the projectile to steam.  "LEKKA 
SHINEN!"  A huge ball of flame flared into life and rocketed at 
Rimururu; the backs of her hands were scorched as she ducked and rolled, 
and she barely avoided serious burns.  Caught in the flames, Konril 
trembled and darted away, vapor rolling off the ice spirit's partially 
melted surface.  Tasuki sneered.

"Rimururu's ice powers may have taken Mousse down cold," punned Hiroshi 
enthusiastically, "but it looks as if Tasuki's flames have her steamed!"

"Sister!" shouted Nakoruru.  "Konril can't hurt him!  Tag me in!"

A lily of ice burst from the mat beneath Tasuki.  As fast as it 
appeared, the crystalline structure burst into steam beneath him.  
Shaking her head, Rimururu lunged, blade out.  "No!" she shouted back.  
"I can do this!  I won't fail you like last time!"

Wood cracked against metal as Rimururu's sword met Tasuki's tessen.  The 
Suzaku Seishi, stronger than the small Ainu girl and just as fast, 
remorselessly drove her back into the center of the ring.  "Shikuruu, 
go!" shouted Rimururu, and the wolf leapt, striking Tasuki in the side 
and knocking him back.  Angrily, Tasuki hurled a blast at Shikuruu, 
scorching his fur and sending him tumbling, and turned back to smash at 
the girl with vicious, two-handed tessen strikes.

Knocked completely out of the ring, Shikuruu landed hard.  As wisps of 
smoke rose from his scorched fur, the wolf scrambled to his feet, trying 
to return to his packmistress, but the impact had left him dizzy; not 
watching his path, he ran into a pile of tangled robes and fell.  
Something inside the robes squawked irritably.  As he struggled to his 
feet again, that something began flailing around and striking him 
repeatedly.  Whimpering as the sharp pecks struck his burned skin, 
Shikuruu frantically untangled himself and spun to face the thrashing 
thing, just as Mousse poked his head out of his robes to see what had 
fallen on him.

Duck and wolf stared at each other for a brief moment.  Then Shikuruu 
lunged.

"WAAAACK!"  

"Holy ultrocity, Daisuke!" gasped Hiroshi.  "Tasuki may be beating 
Riniruru in the ring, but outside it Mousse is about to become wolf 
chow!"

"Even if Mousse does have it coming," commented Daisuke, "I can't 
believe the referee's allowing this."

The aforementioned referee squinted at the duck and wolf through Coke-
bottle lenses.  "Security?" he said muzzily.  "Looks like someone's pets 
are loose again."

Daisuke sighed.  "Never mind."

Rimururu retreated, ducking and dodging the off-balance redhead's 
furious swings.  Dropping to the ground as a tessen strike whistled 
inches over her head, she lunged forwards and leapt into a series of 
swift kicks, striking Tasuki in the legs and chest before rebounding off 
his head.  

"Nice shot," grinned Tasuki, and raised his tessen again.

Flapping his little wings frantically, Mousse burst out of his robes and 
ran for cover.  The cursed Chinese boy couldn't actually fly in his 
avian form, and his panicked retreat was a bouncing, awkward half-
airborne lurch.  A trail of fluffy down, shed by his exertions, hung in 
the air for a fraction of a second until the pursuing wolf scattered the 
cloud.  Jaws nipping at his tailfeathers, Mousse looked for an escape, 
and spotted his only chance: the announcers' table.

"Duck and cover!" Hiroshi shouted.  The two color commentators shied 
back as Mousse leaped over the table, then leapt for safety as Shikuruu 
lunged through it, knocking over the table and scattering chairs, papers 
and microphones everywhere.

"This is ridiculous," grumbled Daisuke.  "Shikuruu has Mousse on the 
run, and they're heading for -" his eyes widened.  "The audience!"

Leaping over the barrier and stepping on the heads of the confused 
crowd, wings flapping in their faces, the panicked duck made for high 
ground.  Closely pursuing, Shikuruu leaped into the mass of people and 
lunged for the bird; immediately the stands nearby began rapidly 
emptying.  A duck was one thing.  Nobody wanted to be next to an angry 
wolf.

Tasuki attacked with a series of loose-handed punches, a lazy grin on 
his face.  Rimururu blocked his swings easily, managing to riposte 
through his guard to strike his chest and shoulders, but though Tasuki 
flinched at the blows, his smile remained unchanged.  "You know the bad 
thing about a wooden sword, girl?"

Rimururu blinked.

The Suzaku Seishi swung his fan, and instinctively Rimururu brought up 
her sword to block.  Pressing forwards against her guard, Tasuki smirked 
into the smaller girl's face.  "LEKKA SHINEN!"  

Rimururu barely released her blade before the flames consumed it.

"Sister!  Tag out!" shouted Nakoruru.  "Shikuruu, go!"  When the huge 
gray wolf didn't lunge into the ring, the girl's head snapped around; 
she saw the chaos Shikuruu was causing and turned pale.  "Oh, no!  
Shikuruu!  Come back here!"

Rimururu stared at the charred stick at her feet.  Standing between her 
and her partner, Tasuki walked leisurely forward, fists clenched; the 
young Ainu stumbled back a pace, then set her jaw and stood her ground.  
"Konril," she murmured.  "Help me now."  She held out her hands, palms 
out, and closed her eyes; blue energy pulsed, then coalesced into a 
faceted block of translucent ice twice the height of a man.  

"Oh, shit," commented Tasuki; then, as the iceberg rumbled towards him, 
he leaped.

The wolf heard his packmistress's cry.  Trapped in the middle of more 
terrified people then he'd ever seen in one place, Shikuruu glanced 
wildly around.  Confused by the noise and the movement, he couldn't tell 
which way to go to get back to her.  Then he spotted a flash of feathers 
in one direction.  The wolf made a decision in what passed for his mind; 
kill the annoying duck, then find his way back.  With a mighty leap, 
Shikuruu jumped into the middle of the crowd and seized Mousse by the 
wing.

"WAAAAAAAK!"  Terrified now, Mousse slapped at Shikuruu's muzzle with 
his free wing; the wolf ignored it, closing his eyes and shaking his 
prey brutally.  A splash of hot liquid hit the wolf's face.  *Blood,* he 
thought joyfully, except it didn't smell like blood, and what was in his 
mouth didn't feel like a wing anymore...

Shikuruu opened his eyes to see a very human, very angry Mousse glaring 
back at him.

His feet scrabbling for purchase on the slick top of the block, Tasuki 
leaped again, dropping down next to a wide-eyed Rimururu.  His rabbit 
punch snapped her head back to crack into the side of her own iceberg; 
Konril instantly shattered the huge block into rapidly vanishing 
fragments, but the damage was done.  Rimururu staggered, dazed and 
barely standing, as Tasuki lunged.  "Good try, kid," grinned the Suzaku 
Seishi, "but not -" he punched Rimururu in the gut, doubling her over - 
"good -" a swift uppercut sent the girl rocking back - "enough!"  Tasuki 
slammed her to the ground, where she lay still.

An exceedingly battered wolf went flying over the heads of the remaining 
crowd and thumped down by the ring.  "Whoever doused me, thanks," the 
Chinese boy commented, examining the bleeding puncture wounds on his 
arm.

"The pleasure's all mine," purred Morrigan, holding a thermos in one 
hand.  "You know, you're kind of cute..."

"Get the cameras off him!" shouted Daisuke.  "Man, I hope the censors 
caught that."

Mousse glanced down at his current state of undress.  Blushing a very 
bright red, the master of hidden weaponry sprinted back towards his 
clothes.

Daisuke glanced back at the ring and shrugged.  "Seems that Mousse and 
Tasuki are the winners."

"What?  How?"  Hiroshi stared.  In the ring, the referee was holding 
Tasuki's arm high while Rimururu tried feebly to stand up.  The ice 
spirit Konril hovered over her, giving a concerned impression, and her 
sister knelt beside her.

"It looks like Tasuki managed to take the ice maiden down for the ten-
count, and - Oh, no!  Mousse just punked the referee!"  A bamboo staff 
broken over his head, the generically befuddled ref collapsed.

"What?"  Daisuke blinked.  "He's won!  What's the point?"

Looking at Rimururu's bruises with concern, Nakoruru sighed.  "I kept 
telling you to tag out," she whispered.  Footsteps sounded behind her; 
the Ainu girl looked up to see Mousse, fully dressed and scowling.

"Um, Mousse?  I'm sorry about what Shikuruu did; he's never attacked 
like that before."  The Ainu girl blinked.  "But he said you were cursed 
-"

A heavy wooden mallet hammered brutally into her side.  After smashing 
her in the head and chest several times, the enraged Chinese fighter 
swung the mallet like a baseball bat, sending Nakoruru flying.  As the 
red-robed girl slammed into the corner post with a crunch, Mousse's 
chains lashed around Rimururu, yanking the stunned girl up into a savage 
series of punches and nunchaku strikes that left her bleeding beside her 
sister.  Snarling, Mousse gestured to Tasuki and stalked away.  The 
crowd howled with rage as the two departed.

"Ouch," muttered Daisuke.  "Two fights, two beatings.  I wonder how long 
the Spirits of Nature can keep it up."

"Don't worry, Dai," said Hiroshi.  "Soon enough, they'll be ready for 
some of that good old ULTRAVIOLENCE again!"

Daisuke just sighed.  "Our next match features Reboot champ and 
simultaneous Gamma/Omega competitor Duo Maxwell."

"Even though he fought three grueling battles to capture the title last 
week -"

"Hiroshi, he pinned Yaga with one finger and then beat up a little metal 
snake."

"- the Great Destroyer is not content to rest on his laurels, and he'll 
be taking on Naga the White Serpent in an epic battle of science versus 
sorcery!" Hiroshi cheered.  "Now, let's go to the UltraTron!"

Daisuke just rolled his eyes.

*-*-*

Barren Wasteland #351 (according to the subtitle on the UltraTron) was a 
desolate, jumbled landscape, an uninviting maze of shallow canyons and 
crumbled shale.  The temperature was barely above freezing, and it was 
raining, a continuous light drizzle occasionally interrupted by savage 
downdrafts that sent the raindrops spattering against the stone.  Naga 
the White Serpent, 'dressed' in her usual black leather semi-bikini, 
huddled in her purple-lined cloak beneath the leafless, gnarled branches 
of a stunted tree.  Looking up at the featureless gray sky, the 
sorceress rubbed her goose-pimpled arms and sighed.  

"I suppose one must always sacrifice for fashion," Naga sighed to 
herself, and then blinked.  The ground was trembling.  It was a rhythmic 
vibration, powerful enough to set the loose rock around her clattering 
against the ground; not like an earthquake, more like the footsteps of a 
giant.  As the White Serpent scrambled to her feet, she saw a 
silhouette, looming gray out of the mist and rain: an enormous humanoid 
form, narrow eyes glowing dully green beneath the horned forehead.  
Raising a hand to the massive figure in salute, Naga threw back her cape 
and laughed.  "Welcome, Duo Maxwell!  And my congratulations to you, for 
your great victory in the Reboot tournament!"

Grinning, Duo flipped on the Deathscythe's external speakers.  "Hey, 
thanks.  You haven't been doing too bad in Omega yourself."

"And I shall continue to!  You may be a skilled fighter, Duo Maxwell, 
but neither your fists nor your golem are a match for Lina Inverse's 
greatest and sexiest rival, Naga the White Serpent!  OH HO HO HO HO HO!"  
Naga's laughter echoed across the landscape.

With a hiss, the Deathscythe's signature weapon ignited.  "Wanna bet?"

][ OMEGA MATCH
][ DUO MAXWELL vs. NAGA THE WHITE SERPENT
][ FIGHT!

"RAYWING!"

Duo swept the beam scythe downwards, a massive arc of green plasma that 
bisected the tree and chewed into the terrain where Naga had been 
standing, but the White Serpent was already gone.  Distance was her ally 
in this battle; the Gundam Deathscythe was incredibly quick for such a 
huge machine, and Naga hardly intended to test her defensive spells 
against a weapon that could shear through fifty feet of solid rock.  
Landing on a low bluff about a quarter mile distant, she turned to face 
her nemesis.  

"DYNAST BREATH!"

Lunging for the White Serpent, the Deathscythe's motion was halted by a 
web of ice that crawled up the mecha's legs and entwined its torso.  
Annoyed, Duo smashed at the ice with the beam scythe's staff, trying to 
shatter the icy casing -

"FREEZE BRID!  FREEZE ARROW!  FREEZE ARROW!"  With each spell, a gout of 
brilliant blue energy leaped from Naga's hands, impacting on the 
stationary Deathscythe and strengthening its icy prison.  Rain, 
spattering against the ice and supercooled metal, froze on contact to 
further pinion the enormous machine.  Soon the entire Gundam was frozen, 
lifeless and unmoving, within a roughly humanoid mass of translucent 
ice.

"Did you actually think, Duo Maxwell, that you could possibly defeat the 
brilliant and powerful White Serpent?  OH, HO HO HO HO HO!"

"Don't start gloating too early," smirked Duo.  The ice surrounding the 
Deathscythe's horned head shattered and fell away.

Naga blinked.

"External heaters," explained the Gundam pilot.  "I had Washuu install 
them the last time Shinigami was in for repairs.  The God of Death never 
falls for the same trick twice."  Great slabs of ice begin sloughing off 
the mecha's arms and legs.  "Lina pulled that one on me a while back.  I 
guess you're just a cheap imitation, huh?"

"I am Lina Inverse's greatest rival, not some mere imitator!" snapped 
Naga, stung.  Her hands raised high, magic flaring in her palms.  She 
would destroy this insolent boy before his golem had a chance to move 
again!  "You who crosses between sky and earth, gently flowing water -"

The Deathscythe's great head turned to regard her.  Its Vulcan cannons 
whirred.

"Gather in my hand - Eep!  RAYWING!"  The White Serpent flew for cover 
as the bluff she had been standing on exploded.

Spent-uranium slugs chewed up the ground behind her as Naga sped 
frantically across the jumbled landscape.  Fragments of sharp-edged 
rock, flung like shrapnel from the impacts, caromed away from her 
protective shield, a fortunate side effect of the Raywing.  Of course, 
the incredibly swift flying spell also had an unfortunate side effect - 
the Deathscythe's vulcans paused for a moment, and Naga hastily banked 
into a right-angle turn.  Half a second later, bullets whined through 
the empty air where her former trajectory would have sent her - it was 
impossible to concentrate on anything but minor magics while 
simultaneously maintaining the Raywing.  Certainly nothing that could 
hurt a Gundam.  Through the rain, she saw the entrance to a network of 
small canyons, overhung ravines carved by swift-running water, and made 
for it.

Duo growled as the White Serpent vanished from the Deathscythe's 
viewscreen.  Shaking the last of the ice from the Gundam's boots, the 
Great Destroyer ignited the vernier engines and took to the air.  
Hovering on a pillar of plasma fire, easily correcting for the 
occasional gusts, Duo scanned the misty battleground hastily.  *I've got 
to find her fast.  She can hide in this mess, but up here I'm a sitting 
duck.*  There was a flicker of movement from below.  The Deathscythe 
turned, dropping lower over the canyonscape.

"BOMB DI WIND!"

A blast of concussive force struck the mecha's leg, stripping off 
fragments of Gundanium alloy and sending the robot into a spin.  Duo 
quickly stabilized the Deathscythe and flew towards the source of the 
blast -

"FLARE ARROW!"

A line of brilliant flame lanced up from behind the Gundam, smashing 
into it directly between the 'wings'.  This time the mecha was knocked 
head over heels, and Duo had a few bad moments before he managed to 
straighten out its flight.  *She's darting around in those canyons,* Duo 
thought, shoving his braid away from his face.  *They're only ten feet 
deep or so, but in these conditions* - he paused to damn the mist, the 
rain, and Controversial Jack for putting him in the middle of them - *I 
can't spot her.*


"FREEZE ARROW!"

Slamming the control stick forwards, Duo barely managed to evade the icy 
blue blast.  *Damn!  I can't keep this up.  Time to try something.*  He 
flipped on the speakers again.  "Hey, Naga!  I fought B-ko the other 
day, and that laugh of yours sounds just like her.  Isn't imitating one 
person enough?"

"Imitate her?"  Naga's amused voice carried easily through the air.  
"She is but a child.  Her laugh lacks the power, the confidence of my 
own!  Hers is the laugh of a little girl, while mine is a laugh to 
conquer worlds!  OH, HO HO HO HO HO HO HO!"

*That's right,* thought Duo, chuckling as he glanced at the 
Deathscythe's computer screen, where a single line of text said 'Source 
triangulated.'  *Just keep laughing, woman.  I've got you now.*  

Suddenly reminded of Chang Wufei, though the connection between the 
fanatical Chinese pilot and his current situation eluded him, Duo 
grinned recklessly and sent the Deathscythe down into a screaming dive.  
Vulcan cannons and machine guns roared, strafing the canyon walls and 
splintering rock in a glorious orgy of destruction.  Enormous slabs of 
shale broke free from the cliff faces and tumbled down into the canyon.  
Clouds of pulverized rock dust filled the air, only to whirl away in 
wind-tattered wisps as the Deathscythe swept down and howled over the 
shattered land.

*Damn.  Maybe I overdid it,* thought Duo, turning back to the pile of 
crumpled stone.  "Hey, Naga!  You okay down there?"

Silence.  The wind howled over broken stone.

*Oh, SHIT.*  "Naga?"

Krillin dropped down from the clouds.  The little referee was shivering, 
and his cloth gi was coated in ice , but the look on his face was 
worried.  "I don't sense her ki down there, Duo," he confirmed grimly.  
"Unless she got out before you attacked.."

"Damn, damn, DAMN!"  Duo slammed his fist against the Gundam's control 
panel.  "I didn't mean for this to happen!"

The bald-headed little monk snorted.  "Throwing bullets around like 
toys, and now you say you didn't - oh.  Never mind.  Fight's still on."  
With that, he darted back into the air.

Duo blinked.  "Huh?"

"Your soul is darkness.  Purify me now..."

Twisting the Deathscythe wildly, Duo spotted Naga.  The White Serpent 
was perched on the top of a cliff about a mile away; with the Gundam's 
telescopic lenses, he could see that the sorceress was battered, and her 
black cloak was gray with mud and rock dust.  She was standing straight, 
apparently incanting something.  And the winds were beginning to pick up 
speed.

"Lord of the netherworld, as unearthly forces merge..."

*Oh, man, that doesn't sound good.*  Duo spread the Deathscythe's 
'wings'; opening the vernier engines to their maximum, he took to the 
air, hoping to reach Naga before her spell completed.

"I enshroud myself in deadly tempest..."

The Gundam's beam scythe flared into verdant life again, hissing 
ferociously as the Deathscythe tore through the sky.  Above him, the 
clouds were churning.

"Now I tie the new promise to the power of snow and ice!"

Hurtling towards Naga, the Deathscythe swung its plasma blade back, 
preparing to shear the cliffside out from under her.  Duo's knuckles 
were white on the controls.  Bits of ice whipped through the air, 
clattering against the mecha's hatch, sounding like rain on a tin roof.  
Gazing fearlessly into Shinigami's blazing green eyes, Naga threw her 
head back and laughed, releasing the power gathered in her hands with a 
single shout -

"TESTAMENT!!"

All Hell broke loose.

*-*-* 

"Well, I'll be damned."  Dark Schneider squinted at the grainy little 
television set mounted over the bar of the UltraTokyo Bar and Grill, 
grudging respect in his eyes.  "That's one of my spells.  I wonder how 
the hell she pulled it off?"

"Darshu-chan?"  Yuffie bounced up onto a stool and looked over 
Schneider's shoulder.  The cute little ninja girl grimaced at the 
screen.  "Oh, it's just Naga.  Come on, Darshu-chan.  I want to kick 
your butt again."

Schneider chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.  "That was merely an 
accident.  A twist of fate.  The gods can be whimsical at times."

"Oh," said Yuffie innocently.  "So I won four times in a row by 
accident?"

"Ha!"  Now Darshu threw his head back and laughed whole-heartedly, 
causing a ripple effect in the crowded room as customers scooted as far 
away from him as possible.  "Luck, and nothing but!  Girl, I am Dark 
Schneider, greatest sorcerer in this world or any other!  Demons grovel 
before me and efreets bow in servitude!  Women swoon at the sight of my 
rippling muscles!  I am invincible!  And I shall prove it by sending you 
spiraling down into the blackest depths of defeat!"

Mystical energies blazing brilliantly in the darkened room, the Uber 
Exploder Wizard raised his mighty hand, strengthened by four hundred 
years of battle, and brought it down with a crash like thunder.

Two coins appeared in his palm.

"I imagine I have time to humiliate you at least twice before I leave 
for my fight," Darshu commented.

"You'll never beat me at this game," Yuffie said cheerfully.  "Never."

"Watch me."

Reassembled and more deadly then ever, the 'Dance Dance Revolution: 
ULTRA Mix' arcade machine stood patiently.  Glaring, Darshu advanced to 
the challenge.

*-*-*

The Testament spell is one of the most powerful water magics in the 
spellbooks of Metallicana.   When properly cast, it unleashes a beam of 
freezing energy that chills whatever it touches to absolute zero.  Its 
affects are somewhat akin to a spray of liquid nitrogen; flesh freezes 
solid instantly, metals shatter, the oxygen itself condenses out of the 
air temporarily.  As it draws on the elements for power, casting it can 
also have a temporary affect on weather in the area, causing gales, rain 
or snow.  While not as powerful as Metallicana's greater spells, such as 
the Halloween, Testament is lethal in the appropriate situation.  

A shining beam of bluish-white energy blazed from Naga's hands.  
Shinigami twisted wildly in mid-air, barely avoiding the sorcerous 
blast; in the mech's cockpit, Duo felt a sudden chill as the penumbra of 
the spell's influence passed through Gundanium plate armor and sunk into 
his flesh.  
For a split second, the young pilot believed that the beam had 
connected.  Shaking off this misconception, Duo yanked up on the 
Deathscythe's control stick to stabilize its tumbling flight;  alarms 
screamed as the Gundam's left-hand vernier engine shattered and fell 
away.

Losing all control, Deathscythe tumbled from the sky.  Naga the White 
Serpent, her breasts heaving from the exertion, brushed rock dust from 
her cape and smiled as she watched her enemy fall.  "Victory is mine 
this day, Duo Maxwell!  OH HO HO HO - oh, no..."

With an ear-splitting crash, the Deathscythe fell on top of Naga.

For a few long moments, the only motion was the slow settling of 
crumbled rock.  Then the Gundam twitched.  Slowly, the great robot 
pulled itself to its feet and looked down at the shattered cliff face 
beneath it.  From beneath a pile of rubble protruded one white, 
twitching hand.  The pile quivered slightly and then lay still.

Nodding to the Deathscythe, Krillin dropped down and began to dig out 
the sorceress.  Duo smiled at the UltraCam mounted in the cockpit; a 
nasty, confident 'I meant to do that' sort of grin.  "Looks like I win."

"... oh ho ho ho..." the pile warbled in agreement.

*-*-*

"Wow!  Those two really tore up the scenery," enthused Hiroshi.  "But 
what else do you expect from two of Omega's flashiest fighters?"

"Not to win by a fluke?" inquired Daisuke sardonically.  Then he glared.  
"Don't say it."

"Say what, Dai?" Hiroshi asked innocently.

"Nothing," Daisuke sighed.  "Next up is a fan favorite - eh?" the 
sardonic announcer blinked at the ring, then glanced back at his notes.  
"The 'Great' Yaga?  What's he doing out there?"

A microphone in one burly hand, Yaga climbed over the ropes and entered 
the ring to a chorus of scattered boos.  "Greetings, my loyal fans," he 
boomed.  The booing intensified.  "Loyal fans of Ultra," Yaga boomed, 
his voice overpowering the noise of the crowd.  "I am here to announce 
that I shall be not fighting in this fine tournament today."  A few 
sardonic cheers.  "I am not fighting because I wish... to apologize."

The crowd hushed.  In the sudden silence, Hiroshi's snort could be heard 
across the UltraDome.

Yaga transfixed the unabashed announcer with a glare of death.  "I am 
quite serious.  What I did to Sakura Kinomoto was inexcusable.  I 
understand she is recovering well -" a growl ran through the crowd - 
"and I offer her my best wishes and most profound apologies.  More, I 
apologize to you, my fans, for forcing you to witness such a brutal and 
unsportsmanlike act."

People could be seen nodding throughout the UltraDome.  Yaga stood 
silently, a grim expression on his face, until the muttering had died 
down entirely.

"I apologize for my actions," Yaga continued, "but the blame does not 
rest entirely upon my shoulders.  Rather, it was the cruel, callous and 
completely unbalanced booking practices of Controversial Jack Lysias 
that forced this young girl -" the boos returned, redoubled in intensity 
- "FORCED her into a battle which she could not fairly win!"

"I should have known."  Daisuke rolled his eyes.  "Just more of Yaga's 
bull."

"I would also like to apologize," the wrestler shouted over the hostile 
roars, "for the disgraceful spectacle of that ridiculous child and his 
giant robot.  His unsportsmanlike actions, which mocked his competitors 
and stole the title -" the crowd's booing intensified.  They liked their 
Reboot champion - "demonstrate his complete disregard for the rules and 
traditions of this fine tournament -"

"Cut the crap, Yaga!"  The unamplified shout carried throughout the 
UltraDome.  The crowd hushed.

"What?"  Yaga spun, his face flushed.  "Who dares?"

"Me."  Hiroshi grabbed reflexively at his microphone as Lei Wulong 
snatched it away.  "You don't need to do this, Yaga.  We all know the 
reason you aren't fighting is because you're still injured after last 
week."

"My reasons are as I have said, Wulong.  However, in one particular you 
are correct."  The huge wrestler nodded solemnly.  "I am still not fully 
ready for battle -"

"I bet you aren't."  Lei's cheerful voice dropped to a snarl.  "I bet 
your knuckles are still hurting, after the way you bruised them beating 
up a ten-year-old girl."

"Now wait a minute!" snapped Yaga.  "I just said -"

"You know what, Yaga?" Lei asked.  "I don't care what you said.  I've 
been on the force a long time, Yaga, and I've seen that every thug and 
psychopath and child abuser has some pathetic way of justifying 
himself."  The crowd roared its approval.  "If I caught anyone beating a 
kid like that outside Ultra, they'd be locked away for the rest of their 
miserable life.  I can't make you pay the way you deserve, the way 
JUSTICE demands you pay, but at least I can take vengeance for Sakura in 
the ring!"  Lei smiled.  "Unless you're too... injured... to fight?"

"I don't have to take this from you," Yaga snarled.  "Come on."

Tossing the microphone back to Hiroshi, Lei shrugged out of his green 
jacket and sprinted to the ring.  Leaping to the top of a corner post, 
he posed there for a moment before dropping lightly to the mat.  "You're 
pretty good against little kids," he smirked.  "Let's see how you do in 
a real fight."

Growling, Yaga hurled the microphone at him and lunged.

][ UNSCHEDULED GAMMA JUSTICE MATCH
][ LEI WULONG vs. THE GREAT YAGA
][ FIGHT!

Lei sidestepped easily as the microphone flew past.  "An illegal weapon, 
Yaga?  How appropriate," he commented, fading back from Yaga's first 
furious lunge.  Yaga turned and lunged again, one fist swinging; the 
Tokyo policeman seized the outthrust arm and spun, twisting Yaga around 
and down so the wrestler's own momentum threw him to the ground.  The 
crowd roared.

Pushing himself quickly to his feet, Yaga took a few steps back and 
glared at his impromptu opponent.  The veteran fighter knew he had to 
master his anger; undisciplined rushes would only give Wulong more 
opportunities to attack.  The cop had skill - Yaga remembered his first 
match against Zell, and reminded himself not to underestimate his 
martial arts training.  Still, the Great Yaga had been fighting 
professionally for decades, and Wulong was just a policeman.  An 
irritating, disrespectful policeman.  Yaga grinned.  This wouldn't be 
difficult.

Lei stepped forwards, battering Yaga with a quick series of punches.  
Yaga took the blows, lunging with a punch to Lei's stomach and following 
with a vicious blow to the back of Lei's neck as he bent over.  Now it 
was Lei's turn to stagger back; Yaga pressed his advantage with a 
headbutt, and Lei grunted as the larger man's head struck him in the 
chest.  Grabbing Lei before he could step away, Yaga straightened; the 
'Super-cop' was flung over Yaga's shoulder and hit the mat hard, but 
managed to roll away before the wrestler could follow through.

The martial artist rolled to his feet in a crane stance, one leg raised 
and his arms high for balance.  Yaga ran at him, one arm outstretched 
for a roundhouse; Lei snapped a high kick at the charging wrestler, and 
Yaga grunted and staggered back as the kick connected with his jaw.  
Lunging, Lei followed up with two quick punches to the face and a 
roundhouse kick that sent Yaga sprawling.

"And Yaga is down!" yelled Hiroshi cheerfully.  "Lei's skill and 
experience are giving him the advantage in this fight."

"Don't be too hasty," commented Daisuke.  "Yaga's style may be less 
formal, but he's stronger, and he can take a lot of punishment."

"Yeah, but Yaga's a jerk!  Go, Lei!"

Daisuke sighed.  "Hiroshi, can you at least pretend to be objective?"

Yaga came up fast, striking quickly with a left-handed punch and then 
smashing at him with a right-handed uppercut that Lei barely managed to 
dodge.  The policeman flowed into a snake stance, responding with a 
lightning-fast series of one-handed strikes to Yaga's upper body.  
Growling, the wrestler delivered a brutal chop to Lei's ribs and Lei 
stumbled away, grazing Yaga's head with a backhanded punch as he dodged 
the followup kick.

Lei stepped forwards again, this time starting off with a high kick.  
Yaga blocked the attack and lunged, only to be met with a series of 
punches to his midsection and a low sweeping kick that knocked him off 
his feet.  As Yaga rolled to his feet, Lei tried for another roundhouse 
kick; Yaga caught his leg and yanked, pulling the smaller fighter into 
Yaga's chest before sending him down hard into the mat.

Grabbing Lei by his shoulders, Yaga hoisted him up and hurled him into 
the ropes.  Lei twisted around as the ropes sent him springing back, but 
only succeeded in taking Yaga's kick in the side instead of in the 
chest.  Staggering away, Lei struck at Yaga with a low kick, but failed 
to connect; Yaga lunged, grabbing Lei by the hair and yanking his face 
down to slam into Yaga's knee.  The crack of the impact echoed through 
the UltraDome, but Yaga didn't let go, pulling Lei's head up again 
before slamming it down into the mat.

Daisuke winced.  "Man, that move looks like it hurts."

"Yeah, but Lei can take it!"

Yaga rolled off and Lei got slowly to his feet.  The policeman was 
weaving about erratically, apparently stunned.  A trickle of blood was 
running down from his nose.  Yaga ran at him, one arm outstretched for a 
clothesline; Lei bent back amazingly far to dodge it, then snapped his 
head forwards to slam into Yaga's chest.  Except Yaga wasn't there.  The 
larger wrestler sidestepped, lacing his fists and slamming them down on 
Lei's upper back in a crushing blow that sent him sprawling on the mat 
again.

"I watched that fight," Yaga grunted, pulling Lei to his feet again.  
"Nice trick."  The wrestler grabbed Lei around the upper body in a 
powerful bear hug.  Crushing the feebly resisting martial artist to his 
chest, Yaga spun about, leaped, and hurled himself to the ground, 
smashing Lei between himself and the mat in a crash that shook the ring.

"Lei is down!" winced Hiroshi.  "But he's still in the fight!"

Pressing Lei to the mat, Yaga stood up.  Spinning swiftly around, elbow 
out, the wrestler delivered a brutal Roaring Elbow that slammed into the 
small of Lei's back.

"Not a chance," disagreed Daisuke.  

Yaga seemed to agree with the cynical announcer.  He began to yank Lei 
back up again by the hair, but then stopped.  Dropping Lei's head back 
to the mat, he beckoned the referee, who began the count.  Lei lay 
still, staring blankly up at the lights, as the referee completed the 
ten-count and raised Yaga's arm high in victory.  The veteran fighter 
grinned, waiting for the cheers - not enthusiastic cheers, not after 
Sakura - but at least the mild applause of the crowd.

"Taking the win in an unscheduled match," Hiroshi announced 
unenthusiastically, "the 'Great' Yaga."  The booing and catcalls seemed 
to shake the UltraDome.  As Yaga's grin froze on his face, a can of soda 
arced from the stands to splatter over the mat.  More projectiles 
followed.

"It appears the fans have instituted a new Ultra tradition," Daisuke 
said blandly.  "Splattering Yaga."

Veins bulged in Yaga's neck as the insults continued.  He opened his 
mouth to snarl at Daisuke, or at the fans, perhaps, but then shut it 
again.  With a growl, he stomped out of the ring.  The medical team 
heading for Lei with a stretcher shied far out of the enraged wrestler's 
path.  

"It looks like Lei's going to be feeling this one for a while," Hiroshi 
sighed.  "After that brutal beating, he might not be conscious for... 
wait!  He's getting up!"

Slowly, Lei pushed himself to his feet.  The stretcher crew attempted to 
assist him, but he waved them off, and with trembling but steady steps 
left the ring to resounding cheers.

"Lei has left the ring under his own power!" shouted Hiroshi.  "The 
'Super-Cop' is showing the strength of will that made him the idol of 
the Tokyo PD!"

Daisuke blinked.  "Hiroshi.  Granted that Lei went down hard, almost 
everyone who loses in the Gamma ring gets up and walks at some time or 
other.  Why are you making such a big deal out of this?"

"Because, Dai, this shows just how much trouble Yaga is in for!"  The 
young announcer grinned.  "Ladies and gentlemen, this has the potential 
to be one incredible rivalry!"

"Just 'incredible', 'Roshi?" Daisuke wondered.  "Not 'ultrocious'?"

"You're absolutely right, Dai!  This is going to be one ULTROCIOUS 
rivalry!"

Sighing, Daisuke stared at the ceiling.  "When," he commented, as if to 
himself, "will I learn..."

"Some people just can't accept reality."  Hiroshi ignored Daisuke's 
raised eyebrow.  "I don't think Yaga'll ever accept that no one's ever 
gonna think he's a good guy!  But, folks, now you'll be seeing some real 
good guys, in a Gamma battle featuring two of Ultra's finest young 
combatants.  First up, a fan favorite with her first appearance - Roxy!"

A cheerful smile on her face, Akane strolled up to the ring, waving with 
both hands and basking in the cheers and applause.  This was great!  
She'd never been cheered this much as Akane, except in the Lambda 
matches, and there she knew the applause was for Ranma.  This incredible 
racket was all for her, and confidence filled the young fighter's heart.  
With the crowd on her side, how could she lose?

"Roxy's past before Ultra is a mystery, ladies and gentlemen," Hiroshi 
announced.  "But rumors have been flying all over the UltraDome!  Who is 
this gorgeous blonde, everyone wants to know, who came out of nowhere to 
give Yaga one serious beatdown?"

In the ring, Akane smiled so widely her face hurt.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, rumor has it..." Hiroshi bent over the 
microphone, giving his impression of a conspiratorial whisper.  "Rumor 
has it she's the illegitimate daughter of Gamma champ Sagat!"

Akane's smile suddenly vanished.  Daisuke, who had been about to 
comment, widened his eyes in shock and only sputtered into the 
microphone.

"Hailing from the brutal alleyways of America," Hiroshi continued 
cheerfully, "the daughter of Sagat and one of his many trainers in the 
arts of Muy Thai kickboxing, Roxy inherited her father's strength and 
her mother's speed.  Abandoned by Sagat when she was a tiny girl, she 
grew up in the streets, honing her skills in the school of hard knocks.  
Now, fully grown and ready to take on the world, Roxy came to Ultra to 
beat the hell out of the bastard who abandoned her and take his belt for 
her own!"  Akane stood, open-mouthed, while the audience cheered.

"..." Daisuke commented eloquently.  "... Hiroshi, where the HELL did 
that come from?"

"It makes sense," Hiroshi protested.  "Look!  She's almost as strong as 
Yaga, fast, she looks sort of American, she only has one eye..."

"You can't inherit eye injuries, 'Roshi!"

"But, Dai - "

"HEY!"  Flushing, Roxy shouted loudly enough to silence the two 
announcers.  "Listen up, 'cause I'm only saying this once.  I ain't 
Sagat's daughter, and I want you two to cut it out!"  *Is that enough?* 
thought Akane.  *No.  It'd be enough for Akane, but not for Roxy.*  "You 
guys only got one thing right," she continued.  "Well, two things.  I am 
a gorgeous blonde -" cheers resounded, almost drowning out the whistles 
from the nosebleed section - "and I'm gonna kick Sagat's big, bald butt 
and take the Gamma belt!  That hunk of gold means the person who's got 
it is the best, and Roxy ain't settling for anything less!"

The cheers shook the UltraDome, and Akane grinned.  *That was kind of 
fun!*

"Wow!" said Hiroshi enthusiastically.  "That girl has spirit!  But what 
else would you expect from -"

One young fighter and one young announcer transfixed Hiroshi with 
identical glares.

"- one of the toughest new fighters in Gamma?"  Hiroshi smiled 
innocently.  "But her opponent today is also one of the toughest new 
fighters in Gamma, and with a long previous stint in NeoFighters, he 
might have the experience to take Roxy down!  Ultra, give it up for Li 
Ping!"

The crowd roared as loudly as before as the young American ran down the 
center aisle, snapping out quick kicks and wild punches in midair.  When 
he reached the edge of the ring, he leapt, a twelve-foot vertical jump 
that dropped him onto the ropes.  Rebounding easily, Li spun in midair 
and landed in a fighting crouch, facing the audience.  "Hi, everybody!" 
he shouted.  "I hope you enjoyed my tribute to that Kung Fu movie 
legend, the late Johnny Cage -" the crowd cheered.  Apparently they had 
- "but tonight, I'm totally serious!"

The young martial artist held out his hand to Akane.  "<Welcome to 
Ultra!>" he said in English.  "<Ready to get it on?>"

*Oh, crap.*  The only word Akane understood out of that was 'Ultra'.  
"Let's keep it in Japanese," Roxy said, with a bright smile to offset 
any insult.  "It wouldn't be very nice of us to talk in a language our 
fans don't understand, huh?"

Li's grin didn't waver in the slightest.  "Good point, Roxy," he agreed.  
"So.  Ready for a nice, friendly fight?"

Roxy reached out and shook Li's hand, gripping it hard.  "Let's rock and 
roll!"

][ GAMMA MATCH
][ LI PING vs. AKANE 'ROXY' TENDO
][ FIGHT!

The two fighters stepped back a pace.  Then another.  Then another.  
Akane stepped into a modified Shotokan defensive stance, fists up and 
legs braced, while Li Ping slid easily into some sort of loose-limbed 
crouch likely never seen outside some obscure ninja slasher flick.  The 
two opponents watched each other, eyes narrowed.  Time seemed to stand 
still.

"KIYAAAAAAAAA!!"

Akane flinched slightly at the scream, then threw her arms up and ducked 
aside as Li leaped, foot aimed straight at her head.  Landing easily 
behind her, Li spun, right leg outstretched in a roundhouse kick that 
Akane absorbed with a forearm block.  The girl responded with a quick 
forward punch, impacting with Li's chin and rocking him back.

"You're stronger then you look."

"Thanks," grinned Akane.  She lunged; Li's karate chop struck her in the 
shoulder, but she shrugged it off, spinning sideways into a high kick 
that slammed into Li's chest.  The American's upper body bent backwards 
from the impact of Akane's attack; rather than stumble for balance, Li 
moved with the blow, turning the fall into a series of backflips that 
took him halfway across the ring.  Lightly touching down, Li sprang 
forwards to meet Akane's rush; there was a swift exchange of punches, 
and now Akane stumbled away.

*This is almost a reverse of my last fight,* thought Akane.  *I'm 
stronger, but he's faster then I am.  But I know some tricks he doesn't 
-*  "Shockwave!"  The rippling wave of ki energy Ken had termed 'sloppy' 
burst from her hands, and Li was blown backwards by the impact.

"And Roxy knocks Li over with an explosive new move!" shouted Hiroshi.

"Li's inability to throw ki projectiles may be a disadvantage for him," 
quasi-agreed Daisuke.  "But his speed and wider selection of moves is 
probably enough to counter Roxy's distance advantage."

The American kung fu fanatic leapt forwards again, and Akane lunged as 
well; the two fighters met in mid-air, impacting with a blurringly 
inconclusive series of punches and kicks.  Landing, Akane swung a punch 
at Li's chin.  The boy dropped, sweeping Akane's legs out from under her 
with an elegant low spin kick; she rolled to her feet, avoiding Li's 
followup rising kick by less than a foot.

"Shockwave!" shouted Akane again; this time, though, Li jumped over the 
ki blast and swung.  Akane dodged the roundhouse punch, but the effort 
left her unbalanced; trailing green shadows, Li flew forward in a 
perfectly executed Shadow Kick that sent Akane sprawling.

"Didn't Li Ping say he was done with his tribute to Cage?" wondered 
Daisuke.

"I guess not all of Johnny's moves were goofy fakes," Hiroshi stated.  
"Regardless of the moves, though, this is one intense fight!"

As Akane scrambled up, Li Ping leaped into the air, tumbling head over 
heels before flying at Akane with legs snapping out in a bicycle kick.  
Akane attempted to counter with a spinning uppercut, but her fist only 
grazed off the American's leg; Li snapped a quick kick at Akane's chin, 
then rebounded from her shoulder, landing poised on a corner post as 
Akane dropped.

Leaping from the post, Li snapped one foot out in a flying kick, 
hurtling towards Akane.  Her eyes widened; as the slightly stunned 
fighter brought her arms up to block - *Too slow!* her mind shouted at 
her - Li's kick was about to impact Akane's chest when her battle aura 
flared.  Deflected by the concussive blast of Akane's reflexive defense, 
Li spun wildly towards the ceiling.

"What a counter!" enthused Hiroshi.  "Roxy's Bombshell just sent Li Ping 
flying!"

"I don't know what brought on today's spate of puns," Daisuke sighed, 
"but 'Roshi, for the sake of all our sanity, stop."

Tumbling among low girders at the top of his arc, Li slapped both hands 
against one beam.  Spinning over it like an Olympic gymnast on the 
balance bars, the young martial artist took a fraction of a second to 
aim before hurtling back down towards the mat in a two-legged drop kick.  
Akane leapt to meet him, jumping ten feet - straight up - in a vertical 
Hurricane Kick that pummeled the falling boy with spinning aerial blows.  
Dazed, Li pushed against her, and the two separated, dropping to 
opposite sides of the ring.

*Roxy would say something impressive-sounding here,* realized Akane.  
"Not bad, kid," she called out.  "You're tough, all right; it's just a 
shame for you that I'm tougher!"

Li shook his head to clear it.  "I've got your measure, Roxy," he 
shouted back.  "Now you're going down!"

"Not happening!" grinned Akane.  Taking the initiative, she ran and 
leapt; her flying kick swished over Li's head, and his backhanded 
riposte turned her landing into a forward roll.  Staying low, Akane 
swung her arms up to block Li's kick; her own left-handed punch only 
grazed him, and Li jumped into the air, narrowly missing her with a snap 
kick on the way up.  Eyes narrowed, Akane stared up at the high-flying 
martial artist; she swung her arm down and back, focusing her ki.  When 
Li dropped again, he would meet a Dragon Punch coming up to greet him -

"BULLET..."

Akane stared.  Li wasn't coming down; he hung in mid-air, one leg 
outstretched.  *That's his Bullet Time kick,* Akane realized, stepping 
easily out of the American youth's trajectory.  *Ten times the force - 
he's going to hit the mat hard, and if I'm there to meet him - I've got 
this fight won!*  Akane flowed into an offensive stance and smirked.  
"Come on down, Li!"

Li Ping grinned at her.  "TIME!"

The wind of Li's passage snapped at Akane's hair.  Whistling past her, 
Li flew over the mat and struck the upper rope, stretching the elastic 
material to its furthest extent; the corner posts themselves bent with 
the force of the impact.  Akane grinned.  "What good -"

The ropes snapped back.  Rebounding with incredible speed, Li spun in 
midair and hurtled towards Akane.  The last thing she saw was Li's foot 
inexorably flying toward her face; then came a sharp impact, a bright 
flash, and darkness.

"... six!  Seven!"

Akane blinked.  What was happening?  Why was whoever that was counting?  
She tried to struggle to her feet, but her arms and legs didn't seem to 
want to pay attention.

"Eight!"

Her eyes widened.  The referee.  Li Ping.  Ultra.  *I'm losing.*  
Horrified, Akane tried to push herself up, but her arms felt like 
sandbags, limp and heavy.  Her fingers scrabbled at the mat for 
purchase.

"Nine!"

Akane's vision began to clear; silhouetted by the overhead lights, their 
expressions hidden by shadow, Li Ping and the referee stared down at 
her.  "Stop the count!" she tried to tell them, but it came out as a 
mumbled blur...

"Ten!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, Li Ping is the winner!"

A strong hand grabbed her own.  Dazed, Akane let Li lift her to her 
feet; then, as the fog cleared, she shook it away and dropped to her 
knees again.  She could hear the cheers of the crowd now; they were 
cheering for him.  Not her.  Him.  Suddenly enraged, Akane slammed both 
fists against the mat; her aura flared around her and Li was driven back 
a pace.  "Damn!" she snarled.  "I lost!  I HATE it when I lose!"

"Hey, Roxy, cheer up."  Kneeling, Akane looked up; her furious eyes met 
Li's smiling ones.  "You almost had me a few times," Li said cheerfully.  
"Good fight.  Listen to that crowd roar!"

*They're cheering for you, not me,* Akane thought.  Then she heard the 
chant - "Roxy!  Roxy!" - barely audible over the cheers and screams of 
Li's name, but there none the less.  Rising to her feet, Akane tried a 
tremulous smile.  It didn't seem to fit at all, but she kept it on her 
face anyway.  *Play the role.*  She pumped a fist in the air, and the 
crowd cheered even louder.  "Yeah!" she shouted.  "Great fight!  And 
just you wait until next time, Ping - you're going DOWN!"

"I'll look forward to it," Li smiled.  A single leap, and he was out of 
the ring.  Akane followed, at a more sedate pace; her expression was 
still the cheerful, competitive smile, but as she reached the exit it 
vanished completely.

"What a competitor!" shouted Hiroshi.

"Li Ping or Roxy?" wondered Daisuke.

"Both, Dai," grinned Hiroshi.  "It's nice to see both good losers and 
good winners.  Ultra could use some more of them."

"Eh," Daisuke commented eloquently.  "Good or not, we'll have plenty of 
losers in this next match."

"Right you are, Dai!"  Hiroshi beamed.  "One shall stand!  Three shall 
fall!  In our second Omega match of the day, four of Ultra's biggest 
guns go head to head to head to head in the cold, airless vacuum 
thousands of miles above the Martian surface!"

"'Vacuum' generally implies 'airless', 'Roshi."

Long practiced at shrugging off Daisuke's sarcasm, Hiroshi ignored this.  
"Let's go to the UltraTron again!"

*-*-*

Five portals opened into airless space.  In unison, five figures tumbled 
out, falling slowly onto the rocky ground.  Three wore full spacesuits; 
not the bulky pressurized contraptions used when men first walked on the 
(former) moon, but, rather, suits of skintight material, bearing more 
resemblance to a diver's wetsuit than anything else.  Of those three, 
two, both in white, easily righted themselves and landed on their feet.  
The third, rolling slowly in the meager gravity, bounced lightly off the 
ground and shook a muscular, pink-suited forearm.  His manly shout 
crackled over the radio bands: "OOSHA!" 

The fourth figure, ignoring the planetoid's gravitational pull with the 
same casual arrogance he did the Earth's, merely glanced heavenward.  
Sephiroth wore no spacesuit, only an oxygen mask and a small radio 
transmitter; his robes, billowing around him in the microgravity, seemed 
to dare the vacuum to do its worst.  Starlight flowed down the flawless 
blade of the Masamune.

The fifth figure was Ifurita.

They stood on a tiny, irregularly shaped asteroidal fragment; perhaps 
ten miles across, it rolled through space as erratically as the third 
figure rolled over its cratered surface.  The stars wheeled crazily 
overhead.  As they watched, a huge red curve appeared over the 
planetoid's disturbingly close horizon; the curve rose, and widened, 
until a great crescent burned crimson in the ever-moving sky, its 
shadowed portion blotting out the stars over a double handspan of arc.  
The terminator - the line between day and night on the planet below - 
moved across the dark sphere, the lit crescent widening perceptibly as 
they watched, for their chosen arena hurtled around its ruddy master at 
the rate of once every seven hours.

Phobos, moon of Mars.

"Sephiroth.  Dan.  Alberto.  Schneider.  These are the rules," Ifurita 
stated.  "Your suits contain what would be fifteen minutes' worth of 
oxygen for a normal human.  Consumption will vary.  Individuals rendered 
unconscious by lack of air will be immediately returned to the 
UltraDome.  Destroying the world or universe or leaving the battleground 
is a technical foul.  The winner will be the last man standing."

The Sun, a tiny, brilliant speck, burst blindingly over the Martian 
horizon, and the sharp-edged shadows of Phobos sprang into being.

Ifurita nodded.  "Begin."

][ OMEGA MARTIAN VACUUM BRAWL
][ SHOCKWAVE ALBERTO vs. DARK SCHNEIDER vs. SEPHIROTH vs. STONE COLD DAN 
HIBIKI
][ FIGHT!

"YOSH!" shouted Dan.  As if this was a signal, the five beings blurred 
into motion; Ifurita drifting straight up into the void, the other four 
scattering across the barren surface.  Gripping the Masamune's hilt 
easily, Sephiroth turned to gaze at Dan.  Across the emptiness, their 
eyes met.

"Prepare yourself, Sephiroth!" Dan cried.  "STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI is 
about to pour you a cool, refreshing glass of 100% PURE SAIKYO QUALITY 
WHUPASS!  OYAJI!!"

The One-Winged Angel may have smiled slightly.  It was hard to tell.  In 
the next instant, he went speeding over the moonscape after Alberto, 
leaving Dan staring after him.

"So, you fear the mighty fists of DAN!" shouted the taunting master.  
"But Dan shall pursue you, and demonstrate his manly Saikyo Style upon 
your -"

"BARVOLT!"

Dan slammed face first into a crater wall.

"Save your breath," smirked Dark Schneider, electricity still crackling 
over the gloves of his suit.  "You're going to need it."

*-*-*

*Why does that fool run?*

Sephiroth pursued Shockwave Alberto over a region of torn and broken 
stone.  It was as if some enormous hand had reached down and torn away a 
great chunk of Phobos' rocky flesh, and the ragged edges of the wound 
were still exposed.  The thought amused the Scion of Jenova.  Alberto 
was swift, ricocheting from stone to stone, completely in control of his 
movements; but Sephiroth was swifter.  He raised the Masamune, poised to 
strike -

Countering his forward motion with a concussive blast, Alberto halted 
instantly.  The Masamune's tip swept past him with yards to spare as 
Sephiroth, prisoner of his own momentum, sped over the Imploder.  Mako 
energies flaring, he immediately banked, curving around in a wide arc to 
return to his foe.

Smirking, Alberto sent a series of blasts into a nearby hill, shattering 
it into boulders the size of houses.  The huge masses of rock drifted 
slowly down.  *A waste of energy,* thought Sephiroth.  "Fire 3."

Unconcerned with the lack of oxygen, the flaming blast roared past 
Shockwave Alberto to spatter against the rough ground behind him.  
Sephiroth easily corrected for the spell's recoil, and rushed forwards 
again.

Alberto's focused concussive blasts sent one of those house-size 
boulders drifting up to meet him.

Chuckling, Sephiroth flew at the stone.  He wouldn't have a hope of 
moving it in normal gravity, of course, but here it would be child's 
play to halt the rock, push it back at its originator.  How ironic it 
would be, to crush his foe with his own attack.  Bracing himself on 
nothingness, Sephiroth placed his hands against the oncoming stone and 
pushed.

Nothing happened.

The Scion of Jenova was rather amazed to find himself sliding backwards.  
Then, rather quickly, shamed.  *Mass,* he reminded himself bitterly, *is 
not the same as weight.*  Microgravity or no microgravity, the inertia 
of very large rocks was not something he could counter with bare hands.  
The Imploder's shockwaves had the concussive force to move these stones; 
Mako-powered muscles, on the other hand, did not.

Closely approaching was a cliff face; if he remained in this boulder's 
path, Sephiroth would most certainly be ground against the two.  
Abandoning the futile effort, the One-Winged Angel dropped below the 
boulder's trajectory, only to see a dozen or more of its fellows 
following close behind.

Sephiroth was in the midst of the drifting rocks before he knew what had 
happened.

Not particularly concerned, Sephiroth darted through the spaces between 
the flying boulders, rebounding casually between them.  Any one of those 
stones had the mass to crush the life out of him, but they were so slow 
- hardly creditable threats at all.  Sephiroth wondered what Alberto had 
been thinking as he rounded one drifting stone; then he halted.  There 
was no way to move forward; the stones had moved together until the 
spaces between them were too small for a man.  Flying back, Sephiroth 
looked up, down, left, right; the realization was inescapable.  The 
stones were converging.  In the space between two boulders above him, 
the One-Winged Angel saw Alberto's face; the member of the Magnificent 
Ten grinned before blasting one of the boulders to curve its trajectory 
downwards. 

Behind him was a solid cliff face; around him were thousand-ton rocks 
slowly grinding together.  Sephiroth's eyes widened.

*-*-*

"VEN GEN DO!"

The focused concussive blast smashed into Dan, and he slammed against 
the rocky ground again.  Yanking his head out of the impact crater, he 
spun to face his attacker.  But Dark Schneider, strangely, was nowhere 
to be seen.  "Dan is victorious!  OYAJI!" shouted Dan triumphantly, and 
leapt away to seek his true nemesis.

The problem with using amazingly powerful concussive spells in 
microgravity while pointing at the ground, Schneider told himself, seems 
to be the recoil.  Phobos was apparently receding under him with 
remarkable speed.  But four hundred year old wizards are rarely at a 
loss; Darshu simply spun, aiming directly away from the moon, and cast 
the Ven Gen Do again.  This served to halt his forward progression; a 
second Ven Gen Do, and the Uber Exploder Wizard was returning to Phobos 
once more.  As the ground proceeded to approach him with equally 
remarkable speed, though, Schneider suddenly realized the disadvantage 
of this particular mode of travel.

"MEGADETH!"

Dislodged by the blast, shards of rock fountained up as Darshu came to a 
crashing halt.  More or less stationary, the Bastard scanned the area.  
Rocks, craters, Mars - damn, that thing's impressive from up here - 
stars, a glowing pink dot...

Schneider grinned behind his faceplate.  "EXODUS!"  In normal 
conditions, that spell would have surrounded the Uber Exploder in flames 
and sent him hurtling at his foe; here, though his foe was rather far 
away, the flames and the propulsion worked just fine.  Darshu rocketed 
over the tortured landscape.

"OOSHA!  YOSH!  YAHOOIE!!!"

*Someone,* Schneider thought, coming into range of Dan's transmitter and 
wincing as his receiver began blaring taunts, *ought to tell that idiot 
that he will not get greater range if he yells into the microphone.*  
But it wouldn't be him.  The Uber Exploder Wizard had something much 
more amusing to say.  What looked like a rolling rock pile drifted into 
view; guided by either skill or blind dumb luck, Dan was heading right 
for it.  Approaching rapidly from behind, Darshu decided to help the 
pink moron on his way.

"GUNS N' RO!"

*-*-*

In about thirty seconds, Sephiroth would be effectively powderized.  The 
thought did not particularly thrill him.  The mass and momentum of the 
enclosing rocks was far too great for him to counter effectively, 
though, which left him but one option.  "Mary-sama," the One-Winged 
Angel murmured, too softly for his radio to pick up.  "I want to help 
you.  I fear I cannot do so if I am smashed into pulp -"

Sephiroth's mobile prison shook.  The slowly closing rocks smashed 
against each other; a crack opened in the pattern, just wide enough for 
a single man.  If he was quick.

The Scion of Jenova had great incentive to be quick.

"Thank you, Mary-sama," murmured Sephiroth as he darted out of Alberto's 
trap.  "However you managed it -"

Dan pulled himself out of the Saikyo-shaped crater in one of the moving 
boulders.  "Coward, to so strike Dan from behind!  My mighty fists will 
smash you, you big meanie!"

"Stop talking and let me blast you again," Darshu grinned.

Sephiroth mentally attributed his timely rescue to coincidence.

Face flushed with rage, Shockwave Alberto flew at the bickering pair, 
hurling a concussive blast that sent both Dan and Schneider hurtling 
away.  The crime lord turned back to Sephiroth and lunged.  A mistake.  
Easily sidestepping Alberto's furious attack, the Scion of Jenova raised 
the Masamune high and swung it in a blurringly fast arc down at his 
opponent's exposed back.  The supernaturally sharp blade slowed not a 
fraction as it effortlessly sheared through the Imploder's air hose.

Sephiroth chuckled.

Spewing oxygen out into the vacuum, both ends of the tube thrashed about 
like the tentacles of a berserk octopus.  Sephiroth held out his hand, a 
Bolt incantation on his lips, but Alberto was no longer a threat.  
Desperately, the Imploder tried to clutch at the severed ends, perhaps 
to hold them together - it was difficult for Sephiroth to imagine what 
else he might do with them - but he failed.  His hands unclenched, his 
arms hung limp; slowly, slowly, he collapsed.

Ifurita flickered into being over the crater.  "Shockwave Alberto has 
been defeated," she stated.  Dark portal energies wrapped around the 
Imploder; he vanished.

Nodding once to Ifurita, Sephiroth rose above the surface, looking for 
his other rivals.

*-*-*

Over the horizon, as the Scion of Jenova rose, appeared a small series 
of domes; apparently pressurized, they clung to the side of Phobos like 
barnacles on a whale.  His two opponents darted about in front of them; 
as he watched, Dan's Gadouken sent Darshu reeling.  The Bastard 
countered with a blast of lightning - a Barvolt, he remembered.

The One-Winged Angel knew them both.  Once, he'd known them intimately, 
known the darkest secrets of their minds.  Mary had purged him of those 
memories, cured him of the insanity that resulted from them, but the 
contempt he'd held in his saner moments for such pathetic creatures 
remained.  True, the pink one's strength of will was remarkable, and 
Sephiroth held him in grudging respect; but this battle was not like 
their last.  Mary's fate, and thus the universe itself, was not tied to 
what would occur on this planetoid; rather, this was - how did those 
humans put it? - 'good, clean fun'.  And showing Mary-sama that humans' 
'good, clean fun' was neither good nor clean, as Sephiroth hoped to do, 
was simply a matter of fighting his best.  Even 'enjoying' himself.  So 
let those two batter each other.  Sephiroth would simply wait, and 
watch, and maybe chuckle a bit before moving in to defeat whichever one 
managed to win.

Bracing himself against the sturdy airlock door of the nearest dome, 
Darshu pointed one finger at his forearm-shaking pink foe.  "Venom," he 
commented.  Black magic burst near Dan, and the pink one spun away.  
"Barvolt.  Barvolt, Barvolt, Barvolt."  Electrical bolts sizzled and 
sparked around the Saikyo master.  He leaped.

Rising high over the battered surface, Dan spun, and with a mighty shout 
- "OYAJI!!" - hurtled down towards Schneider. 

"ANTHEM!" shouted Darshu, setting himself against the recoil as the 
magical bullets raced towards Dan; a blazing pink battle aura flared 
around the plummeting Saikyo master, and the strikes slowed the pink-
clad man but did not stop his rush.  Slamming into Dark Schneider, Dan 
smashed him through the entry hatch; the metal crumpled and tore under 
the impact, and the two vanished into the dome.

Dropping down near the entrance, Sephiroth raised an eyebrow as the 
broken airlock inexplicably failed to decompress; shrugging, he raised 
the Masamune to a defensive stance and followed.

Ifurita frowned at the mysterious domes.  Something about them bothered 
her, but duty called.  The android stepped through the airlock.

*-*-*

The UltraTron went dark.

"Get that signal back!" shouted Daisuke.

The screens flickered, then glowed again, revealing a long-range view of 
Phobos.  The small cluster of domes on one side glittered with dully 
reflected sunlight.

"What just happened?" wondered Hiroshi.  "Someone get Washuu on the line 
-"

A small red crab appeared on the screen and waved one claw, then 
vanished, replaced by the face of Washuu Hakubi.  The self-proclaimed 
greatest scientific genius in the universe (and, coincidentally, Ultra's 
chief techie type) looked drawn and haggard, her normally spiky pink 
hair drooping.  In the background, Phobos drifted serenely through a 
background of slowly moving stars. 

Hiroshi stared at the screen.  "Washuu, are you alright?"

Shaking her head slightly, Washuu smiled cheerfully at the camera.  
"Sure!" she confirmed.  "Never better!"

"So what happened?"

"The signal from the UltraPods entering the domes abruptly cut off," 
stated Washuu.  "Something in there is either producing a jamming field 
or destroying them on entry.  I'm sending in more cameras now."

The screens flickered again, moving to a viewpoint just outside the 
entry hatch of the nearest dome.  One of Ultra's remote cameras, a bland 
looking ovoid with tiny thrusters, maneuvered to the broken airlock and 
jetted inside.  Washuu nodded once in satisfaction.  "Jamming field.  
Good."

"How can you be sure of that, Washuu?" asked Daisuke.

"Because I'm the greatest genius in the entire universe, that's why!" 
Washuu explained cheerfully.  

"I see," said Hiroshi.  "But if you could give our audience a bit more 
detail -"

"That, and if that particular pod had been destroyed, it'd have released 
enough antimatter to crack Phobos like an egg," Washuu commented 
offhandedly.

"Oh."  Daisuke made a mental note never to tick off Washuu.  "What if 
our fighters had survived whatever phenomenon was destroying the pods?"

"Then they'd have gone up with everything else."  The pink-haired 
scientist seemed supremely unconcerned at the thought of Sephiroth and 
his companions being reduced to free radicals.  "But I didn't think they 
were being destroyed.  I personally redesigned those pods after Eta; 
they can take a lot more damage then you'd think...  Ah!  Come to 
Momma!"

On screen, the UltraPod that had entered the dome came slowly backing 
out again.  "Now then, little camera pod," Washuu smiled, typing rapidly 
on a holographic keyboard that hadn't been there two seconds ago, "let's 
see where you've been."

A unfamiliar scene formed on the UltraTron.  The pod had entered a low-
ceilinged room, its floor covered in gray hexagonal tiles.  Further in, 
the ceiling rose, four brown pillars supporting the vaulting region; a 
window on the far wall illuminated it.  The view from that window showed 
the barren, cratered mountains of the tiny moon, but the steely gray sky 
was not the sky of Phobos.

Hiroshi blinked.  "What's that supposed to be?"

"A completely separate subdimension interlocked with the dominant space-
time matrix," Washuu murmured to herself, typing frantically.  "That's 
why the signals couldn't get out.  I should have guessed when I saw the 
domes; this planet won't be out poking around its solar system for at 
least another decade..."

"Washuu!  What about the fight?"

"Oh.  Right."  Washuu shrugged.  "Electromagnetic waves won't cross the 
dimensional barrier; I can set up a hardware link straddling the 
boundary, but space is most likely warped enough in there that signals 
from the pods that followed the Omega contestants in won't be legible.  
Probably the best chance is to send in new pods programmed to home in on 
the fighters' biological signatures, record what happens, and then head 
back into normal space and dump the data..."

"... but until they got back, if they get back, we won't have the 
slightest idea what's happening," Daisuke concluded.  "Isn't there 
anything else you could do?"

"Well, I could blow up the moon," Washuu said, her eyes growing 
unfocused as she considered.  "The disruption of the subdimension's 
quadrospatial focus should evert the spacetime curvature, and the 
resulting disruption ought to -"

"Kill the fighters?" interrupted Daisuke.

"Deader than a doornail," confirmed Washuu.  "Along with everything else 
in that pocket dimension.  Alternately, I could reset the portal 
generator to access locations there; it'll probably take about fifteen 
minutes to home in on the coordinates, but when it does we'll be able to 
proceed just like any other fight."

"Washuu, you're amazing," grinned Hiroshi.  "Thanks!"

"No problem," smirked Washuu.  "Not for the greatest genius in the 
universe!"

"And we appreciate it."  Daisuke smiled.  "By the way, how's your 
daughter?"

"Mary?"  Washuu might have paled slightly.  If so, no one noticed.  
"Mary's just fine, thanks for asking.  All kids have to grow up 
sometime, leave the nest, fall in with bad crowds -"  The pink-haired 
genius blinked and stopped herself.  "Well, got to get to work, I'll let 
you know when I've solved the problem.  Later!"  She vanished from the 
screen.

Hiroshi stared at the screen and the setting portrayed there, a setting 
that seemed to grow ever more ominous for the announcer as the crowd 
grew ever more restless.  "Well.  Now what, Dai?"

Daisuke shrugged.  "Anyone have a deck of cards?"

*-*-*

Rolling, tumbling through walls, doors and floors, Dan and Darshu 
finally came skidding to a stop.  Three things immediately caught their 
attention.  First, that the gravity was approximately Earth-normal; Dark 
Schneider tested this by climbing painfully to his feet, grabbing Dan 
and throwing him hard against the ceiling.  The Saikyo master promptly 
fell down again.

Secondly - and upon noticing this, Darshu immediately popped the 
faceplate of his suit open, taking a deep breath - there was air.  True, 
it was an odd sort of air, thick with sulphur and other less 
identifiable smells, but smelly air was still infinitely preferable to 
the clean, pure, and very, very finite air supply of his suit.

They were standing in a wide, brown-walled, five-sided room.  On two of 
the sides were doors, huge, patterned hatches; the other three sides led 
into dark hallways.  The walls were smeared with blood, while the 
ceiling was open to the steely gray sky.

Also in the room - and this was the third thing Schneider and Dan 
noticed - were about thirty remarkably ugly-looking creatures.  Gaunt, 
brown, with huge incisors and bony spines projecting from the joints of 
their elbows and knees, they had been occupied when the Omega fighters 
came busting through.  Specifically, they had been occupied... well, 
eating.  As for what they were eating...

Dan wrinkled his nose.  "Ugh!  Who crawled in here and died?"

"Quite a lot of people," Schneider said cheerfully.  "DAMNED!"

The fireball exploded around Dan, sending him sprawling.  Several dozen 
more fireballs proceeded to explode around his prone form; the bony 
brown things could apparently spit fire, and they either preferred 
targeting the weak or had a particular loathing for the color pink.  
Singed, but not particularly injured, Dan staggered to his feet, bracing 
against the firestorm.

"Some kind of alien life," mused Sephiroth.  Oxygen mask dangling 
freely, the One-Winged Angel was leaning in a doorway, watching the 
confrontation with amusement.

"Call 'em demons," Darshu commented.  "They're sure ugly enough."

"It hardly matters."

"BORABORABORABORA!" shouted the Master of Saikyo Ryu, glaring at his new 
foes.  "You are brave, anthrophagous ones, to challenge Dan; but foolish 
as well, for the manly might of Dan is not to be exceeded by strange 
brown man-eating creatures!  OOSHA!"  He flexed his mighty forearm; 
struck by Dan's surging battle aura, several of the 'demons' obligingly 
blew up.  The rest backed away to a safe distance and continued hurling 
flame.

"YOSH! DAN DAN KICK!"  Leaping through the air in a flying kick, Dan 
smashed his foot into one monster's face.  It promptly disintegrated.  
Landing easily and spinning, Dan hurled a Gadouken that sent another 
demon slamming into the wall with bone-crushing force; a roundhouse kick 
did for another, while a mighty Koryuken uppercut not only decapitated a 
demon, but released a shock wave that rolled over the converging 
monsters and knocked them flat.

"Energetic, isn't he?" smirked Schneider.

"He seems to be enjoying himself," nodded Sephiroth.

"It's sort of unfair to make him fight all on his own, though."  Darshu 
grinned.  "Let's help him out.  MEGADETH!"

The blast sent demons flying like bowling pins, if bowling pins had been 
in the habit of spraying blood from dozens of wounds and collapsing with 
sodden thumps; Dan went flying as well, but being quite a bit more 
durable managed to smash through the far wall with only a few minor 
bruises.

"Fire 3."

Climbing out of the rubble, Dan - along with another handful of assorted 
demons - was hurled back down by the flaming blast.  When he got up this 
time, he was blazing pink.  "Would you interfere in Dan's manly battle 
against the forces of evil?  Then Dan's mighty smitings shall fall upon 
you first!  DAN DAN BOOT TO HEAD!"

The flying kick connected, and the Scion of Jenova's head snapped back.  
As he stumbled away with a snarl, his foot struck a stone marked with a 
goat's head within a pentagram.  In a green flicker, Sephiroth vanished.

"YOSH!  You shall not escape Dan's blazing vengeance!"  Rolling onto the 
transporter, Dan vanished as well.

Darshu shrugged.  Casually tossing off a Megadeth that reduced all 
remaining life in the room to quivering bits, he followed his two rivals 
through the portal.

*-*-*

Dark Schneider emerged in a long and high-ceilinged cavern.  Most of the 
floor was covered with a particularly nasty-looking green slime; a chain 
of small raised areas were free of the disgusting stuff, but it was 
small consolation.  And, of course, even more of the brown things were 
scuttling around, intermixed with huge-mawed pink ape creatures and what 
appeared to be desiccated humanoids in military uniforms...

"Bolt 3!"

"KORYU REKKA!"

... not to mention Dan and Sephiroth.  Schneider rolled his eyes.

The Scion of Jenova and the Master of Saikyo Ryu were busily 
demonstrating why, precisely, Omega matches tend to be located far, far 
away from any populated areas.  Every one of Sephiroth's spells, while 
not deadly dangerous to Dan, carved a wide swath through the teeming 
mass of demons; the taunting master's own attacks rarely connected with 
Sephiroth, but almost always connected with something.  Said 'something' 
tended to die gruesomely on impact.  Darshu spared a moment to be 
thankful that the UltraPods hadn't made it down here with them; massive, 
bloody, exceedingly fatal violence wasn't something Yuffie needed to be 
overly exposed to.  It might give her ideas.

But, since he wasn't on camera, and that referee was nowhere around, 
Darshu smirked and cracked his knuckles.  "SEPULTURA!"

An enormous barrage of fireballs roared from Dark Schneider's hands as 
the Uber Exploder Wizard lived up to his title.  Untold numbers of 
demons simply ceased to exist.  Singed and tumbled, Dan and Sephiroth 
staggered to their feet.

"Now that I've got your attention," Darshu grinned, "NAPALM DEATH!"

Roaring spheres of crimson flame surrounded Sephiroth and Dan.  "Shell," 
muttered the One-Winged Angel quickly -

The spheres detonated.

When the smoke cleared, both targets were standing at the bottom of ten-
foot-wide craters.  Sephiroth looked calm behind a force barrier; Dan 
simply looked battered and rather pissed behind his suit's faceplate.  
Every other being in the now bone dry cavern had been reduced to a fine 
layer of ash.

Green slime began to bubble up through the rock, filling the craters.  
With a slight moue of disgust, Sephiroth darted out of the hole, taking 
up a position equidistant from both Dan and Darshu.  For a brief moment, 
the three merely watched each other; three battered men, weary but still 
ready for more, each waiting to see what the others would do.

Demons began boiling out of a series of small tunnels at the cavern 
edge; the three glanced over, dismissed them as irrelevant, and returned 
their attention to each other.  Time passed.

"OOSHA!"

*Of course,* thought Darshu and Sephiroth in unison.

Standing in the newly created pit of slime, Dan dropped into the 
traditional Saikyo Ryu fighting stance; legs spread for balance, head 
held high, forearm shaking and outstretched.  "You are worthy opponents, 
but STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI is far more worthy!  In this unholy place, I 
shall defeat you, truly and fairly, for the honor of my daddy!  OYAJI!  
OYAJ... i?"  Dan's mouth worked silently as his face began turning blue.  
A line of text scrolled across his suit's visor: 'Warning.  Oxygen 
supply depleted.'  Eyes bulging, the master taunter clawed at his 
throat.  

Staggering forwards, Dan stumbled and landed face-down in the muck.  He 
didn't move.

Darshu threw back his head and laughed.

*-*-*

Having missed the transporter as she passed through, Ifurita had 
completely lost her charges.  This annoyed her as far as anything was 
able to.  UltraPod trailing behind like an obedient puppy, the Omega 
referee drifted through a huge, open room.  Gaping windows high above 
held humanoid forms, guns clenched in decaying hands; they rained down 
fire as bony imps and wide-mouthed demons lunged.

"Absolute Terror Field," Ifurita stated calmly.  A reddish barrier of 
interlocking hexagons rippled into existence around her.  Bullets and 
fireballs struck the field and slid harmlessly away.  Growling and 
slobbering horrendously, the demon-beasts pressed up against the AT 
field, clawing at it with helpless, thwarted bloodlust.  

Ifurita regarded the slavering horrors with the same detachment she did 
everything.  The artificial being knew she could easily destroy her 
attackers, rendering them down into ragged flesh and splintered bone, 
and something deep within suggested she do so.  These things had no 
place in a sane and ordered universe.

Without effort, Ifurita quelled the urge.  She was Ultra's referee.  Her 
place was not to interfere; her place was to observe, and judge.  
Pressing the demons before her, the UltraPod following closely, she 
continued on.

*-*-*

They were laughing at him.  Laughing at DAN.  Rage burned in the Saikyo 
master's veins.  The master of taunts would not be taunted so!  He would 
hurtle to his feet and defeat his enemies with the power of the 
Strongest Style!

Unfortunately, though the ego was willing, the oxygen-starved flesh was 
weak; what was meant to be a leap turned into little more than a push-
up.  Dan's face slapped back into the muck again.  In his mind, he heard 
the laughter continue, mixed with the taunting snarls and grunts of the 
demon-beasts that had lead to his downfall.  His fists clenched.  This 
would not be!  He was DAN!  He was MIGHTY!

Rage mixed with pride which, in turn, blended with the intensive 
training Dan had undergone since 'hearing' his father's voice in the tug 
of the Godhead.  For the first time, critical mass was approached.  
Reached.  Exceeded.  

Pure ego force ripped through Dan's body.  He transformed.

Schneider and Darshu stared as an enormous pink blast wave rolled out of 
the slime.  Waves of concussive force sent ripples racing from end to 
end as Dan slowly rose to his feet.  His muscles, always mighty, were 
now so huge that his spacesuit had been torn off by the expansion; the 
arms and legs of his gi were in tatters.  His hair was long and spiky 
now, colored a brilliant pink hue much like Washuu Hakubi's.  Sneering 
at his two opponents, Dan rolled forwards, coming up in a crouch with 
one mighty forearm shaking.  "RAKUSHOU!!" he shouted.  "Now, you big 
dumb poo heads, the ultimate power of SUPER SAIKYO DAN shall rain down 
on you like a manly pink plague of locusts!  FINAL SHINKUU GADOUKEN!!"

An orb of utterly, blazingly pink energy twenty feet wide burst from 
Dan's palms.  The perfect sphere of ki was bright enough to blind the 
surrounding demons; those who stood, pawing helplessly at their eyes, as 
the Gadouken approached were vaporized instantly.  Unstoppably, the ki 
blast sped forwards, blazing a trench in the floor beneath it -

- for about thirty feet.  Upon reaching that point, it quietly 
dissipated.

"Huh?" asked Dan.

"MEGADETH!" answered Dark Schneider.

"Bolt 3," agreed Sephiroth.

Twin blasts of force smashed into the Super Saikyo-Jin.  The master of 
the Strongest Style spun wildly backwards through the air, through a 
large congregation of monsters, and finally through the cavern wall.

"Blazing pink dolt," commented Darshu.  "Ever wonder how he manages to 
stay in Omega, Sephiroth?"

The Masamune whistled through the air in a perfect arc and decapitated 
Dark Schneider.  At least, that was the plan.  Unfortunately, rather 
than rolling about on the ground, Darshu's smirking head was set firmly 
on his shoulders.  The Bastard had blocked the Masamune with his own 
Sword of Flames.

"I thought you'd do something like that.  BARVOLT!"

Staggered, Sephiroth darted back.  "Fire 3!"

Darshu easily avoided the searing blast.  "Missed, Sephiroth?  You're 
losing your touch," he grinned.  At which point there came a roar and 
half a dozen plasma blasts hammered into Darshu from behind.  The 
Bastard tumbled, spun, righted himself and blew the horned critter into 
very small fragments.

Schneider turned back to Sephiroth, and growled.  The Scion of Jenova 
had vanished in a roiling mob of slavering beasts.  As he watched, green 
flames flashed through the gigantic cavern; more of the creatures flared 
into existence and lunged for him.

"What the hell?" blinked Schneider.  "They're coming out of nowhere.  
Great.  Just great."  The Bastard glared around him.  The solution 
seemed clear; first, blow the monsters into paste.  Next, find Sephiroth 
and do likewise.  Explosive mass destruction had always been Darshu's 
specialty.

"SODOM!"

*-*-*

Somewhere in a maze of tunnels, Dan staggered to his feet, shaking his 
pink-maned head.  Even the new and improved Super Saikyo-Jin had fallen 
to the two magicians' combined assault.  Indeed, they were worthy 
rivals!  

The possibility that he had expended all of his energy on the Shinkuu 
Gadouken and therefore gotten the crap blasted out of him did not occur 
to the pink-clad one.

But it did not matter how powerful Sephiroth or the other had become!  
Dan was mightier than ever now.  He would simply follow the path of 
destruction back, find Sephiroth, and defeat him with the BIG BANG BOOT 
TO THE HEAD!  Or the SHINKUU PREMIUM SIGN!  Or even - dare he think it?  
Yes! - the taunting fury of the CHOHATSU SHINWA!  "OOOSHA!" bellowed 
Super Saikyo-Jin Dan, his aura flaring mightily.

The roof proceeded to fall in on him.

*-*-*

Mounted on piles of corpses ten fight tall, Sephiroth and Dark Schneider 
found themselves fighting against both each other and a fair-size army 
of demon-beasts.  Bullets, rockets and fireballs of various sorts filled 
the air.  Ironically enough, the vast majority of the projectiles missed 
the two Omega sorcerers to arc back into the monstrous legions; those 
that appeared to actually have been aimed were swatted away or simply 
shrugged off.  One monster, or ten, or a hundred, were no danger to 
either the Bastard or the One-Winged Angel, assuming they kept their 
guard up.  Assuming.  

"This is getting monotonous," Darshu commented.  It was.  Schneider 
would throw a spell; Sephiroth would dodge, or block with a magical 
shield, and then return fire.  Close combat was as impossible as aiming 
properly in the mass of demon bodies and cacophony of demon screams.  
The Bastard would just love to clear a proper space and go at it, but 
he'd been throwing around some high powered magic already; if he used 
something really nasty, the effort would exhaust him and leave him open 
to Sephiroth.  He could request a temporary truce until the demon 
critters were out of the way, but the One-Winged Angel was, to use the 
understatement of the century, not particularly trustworthy.  And the 
ugly things just kept coming.

Bisecting a yammering demon - lengthwise - Sephiroth snapped the 
Masamune's blade through the air, sending drops of ichor flying.  
"Indeed," he mused.  "I believe that I saw a hallway in -" he pointed 
directly up at the rough stone ceiling - "that direction.  Shall we 
proceed to a less crowded locale?"

Darshu suddenly grinned.  "I've got a better idea."  Ignoring the beasts 
lunging up the pile towards him, the Uber Exploder Wizard pointed both 
hands at the ceiling.  "Better put your mask on."

The Scion of Jenova blinked.  "What are -"

"HALLOWEEN!!"

All Hell REALLY broke loose.

*-*-*

"So when the cops showed up, there was poor Dai, wearing a bright yellow 
raincoat and nothing else, wandering through the girl's locker rooms in 
Jyuban High School and yelling 'Bubbles?  Bubbles?'  And can you 
believe, when they dragged him off, he tried to blame the whole thing on 
me and Rei?"  Hiroshi shrugged.  "Well, there was only one thing I could 
say to that..."

"WORK WITH ME, DAISUKE!" roared the crowd.

Daisuke whimpered.

"You got it!" beamed Hiroshi.  "Now in the next episode, we put up Dai's 
bail -"

"Look!"  Red-rimmed eyes staring at the UltraTron, Daisuke latched on to 
the flicker of movement on the screen like a drowned man clutching at 
driftwood.  "Something's happening!"

Hiroshi barely glanced up.  "Nothing's happening, Dai," he disagreed.  
"Washuu's still working on getting a camera going in there -"

A lance of pure yellow energy blazed out of Phobos' heart.

"What was that, 'Roshi?" asked Daisuke, grinning with relief.

"Never mind."

The small moon began to tumble erratically as the incredible force of 
the blast destabilized its orbit.  As the energy dissipated, an enormous 
hole could be seen, its half-molten sides glowing red.  For an instant, 
this yawning gash was clear, unobscured; then the moon began to spin 
even more frantically as air - and worse - began to rush out.

The entire pocket dimension was apparently depressurizing through the 
gaping hole in Phobos' side.  Silhouetted against the rusty red orb of 
Mars, thousands of tiny, thrashing forms spilled into vacuum.  As the 
dimension emptied, the rock of Phobos itself began to ripple, shrinking 
in on itself like a balloon being deflated.  Crater walls and mountains 
crashed into each other, grinding together as they folded in towards the 
center.  The planetoid began to shrink - not so much getting smaller, it 
seemed, as getting farther away...

A solid gray sphere.

A tiny orb.

A dim, twinkling point.

Gone.

"Where are our fighters?" shouted Hiroshi.  "Someone zoom in on one of 
those - never mind, don't..."  The screen showed what appeared to be a 
cross between a giant slug and a munitions factory.  It was quite 
messily dead.  "Where's Ifurita?"

A flicker.  This new viewpoint followed Omega's top referee as she 
darted between increasingly grotesque corpses, following a trail only 
she knew.  The motion slowed, stopped; Ifurita faced a tired-looking 
Dark Schneider, who floated in emptiness, holding an oxygen mask against 
Sephiroth's face.  The Scion of Jenova hung limply, arms and legs moving 
slightly.  He was obviously unconscious.

"What happened?" inquired Ifurita.

Darshu smirked.  "All these guys happened."  He waved his free arm at 
the decompressed bodies littering the region.  "You saw what it was like 
in there, right?  Sephiroth and I were cornered by about a hundred of 
them; he cast some nasty new spell of his and ended up blowing a hole 
right through the ceiling.  Knocked himself out from the effort, too."  
The Bastard smiled sardonically.  "Damn shame for him; he almost had me 
beat."

Ifurita nodded.  "And where is Dan Hibiki?"

Darshu's gaze met Ifurita's frankly.  "The pink wonder?  I beat him a 
long time ago.  Last I saw, he was heading for the exit at top speed."

Expressionless as always, Ifurita considered.  The android was 
conversant with Technique #34, historically favored by Dark Schneider, 
known as 'lying through one's teeth'.  On the other hand, he was alive 
and conscious, and his opponents were not.  And her sports entertainment 
programming required she decide quickly.

Ifurita nodded.  "Dark Schneider is the winner."  Portals enfolded the 
three, and they vanished.  The UltraTron went dark.

"Dark Schneider!" Hiroshi cheered.  "Ladies and gentlemen, Darshu takes 
home yet another Omega victory!"

"Most likely by lying like a rug," Daisuke stated sardonically.  
"'Roshi, this is the man who destroyed the last of Krillin's credibility 
by brainwashing him at UltraRage."

"But he did that to help Yuffie, not himself," countered Hiroshi.

"So?"  Daisuke sighed.  "At least it's over."

"That's the spirit!" Hiroshi beamed.  "It's time for our last fight of 
the show!  It'll be amazing!  It'll be spectacular!"

"And, unless the UltraDome blows a fuse, we'll actually be able to watch 
it."

"Think positive, Dai!"

"... Hiroshi, that was as positive as I intend to get."  Daisuke glanced 
up at the teleprompter.  "Last week, one of our top fighters took a 
nasty beating.  As the special referee -"

The crowd began screaming.

"- the referee for the Gamma title match at UltraReboot," Hiroshi 
continued, his excited voice overpowering the crowd, "he went down hard 
when both combatants turned on him!  But not even being hammered to a 
pulp can keep him down for long - welcome back, RANMA SAOTOME!"

To a hard rock beat and thunderous applause, the cursed martial artist 
sauntered through the crowd and over to the ring.  "Hey," he said 
casually, microphone in one hand.  "Yeah, I got beat up last time, but 
that was just 'cause I didn't expect those morons to break the rules and 
jump me.  But now -" Ranma cracked his knuckles and grinned - "I'm ready 
for a little light exercise.  Who's up?"

The UltraDome darkened.

"Oh, no," groaned Daisuke.  "The fuses didn't really blow, did they?"

"Nope!"  In the darkness, Hiroshi's grin couldn't be seen, but everyone 
knew it was there.  "Ladies and gentlemen, the team that does all their 
own intros -"

"Prepare for trouble!"

A group of spotlights blazed to life and focused on the stage.

"And make it double!"

Quick, light dance music began playing over the speakers as a line of 
young women, arm in arm, came trotting out.  In short, sequined red 
dresses and feathered hats, the girls lined up on stage, high-kicking to 
the American beat.  Cheers and wolf whistles resounded.

"To entertain with fancy dancing!"

"To give cute girls excuse for prancing!"

"Isn't that Rei out there?" wondered Daisuke.

Hiroshi's eyes bulged.  "Where?"

As the girls swept off their hats, revealing them to be huge feathered 
fans, the music surged; kicking high, the chorus line dropped back, then 
jumped forwards again.  The dancers let go of each other's arms and 
spun, flaring their dresses and snapping their fans in midair; re-
forming the line with their backs to the audience, they wiggled their 
rears to deafening applause before spinning back again.

"To wear high heels and frilly skirts!"

"To put on hose and stuff our shirts!"

"On the right side of the line," said Daisuke, watching intently.  "Two 
girls down from the cute one with dark blue hair."

Hiroshi grinned like a fool and began waving frantically.

The girls divided.  Two separate lines of dancers whirled around two 
center points; fans waving, they spun and kicked with elegant grace.  As 
the lights died down, the circles collapsed, the girls bowing inwards; 
their outstretched fans pointed to the two figures who stood, shadowed, 
within the paired rings.

A spotlight shone down on the first figure.

"Jessie!"

A spotlight shone down on the second.

"James!"

"... you mean that cute girl with dark blue hair, Dai?" wondered 
Hiroshi.

Daisuke blinked, speechless.

"Team ROCKETTE kicks off at the speed of light!"

"Can we end this skit?  My panties are too tight!"

Thirty thousand people sweatdropped in unison.

"Mime!" spoke one of the dancers.  "Mime mime mime!"

Thirty thousand people sweatdropped in unison... again.

Daisuke stared at the Pokemon in a dress.  "Okay," he commented.  "I am 
now officially scarred for life."

"Come on, Daisuke," smiled Hiroshi.  "Think -"

"Do NOT say it."

To tumultuous cheering, the dancing girls scattered off the stage and 
headed away through the audience.  Several of them brushed by the 
announcer's table; someone flicked a feather fan under Daisuke's nose, 
and the announcer sneezed.  Rei stopped to give Hiroshi a quick hug; 
expressionless as always, she whispered something in her boyfriend's ear 
before leaving that caused him to blush as red as her dress.

"What'd she say to you?" wondered Daisuke.

Hiroshi flushed again.  "Nothing," he said hastily.  "Absolutely 
nothing."

"Really, 'Roshi?"  A faint smile flickered over Daisuke's lips.  "She 
didn't call you, oh, her 'snuggly little Mokona plushie' or anything, 
huh?"

Hiroshi hastily clamped a hand over Daisuke's mouth.  "Ix-nay on the 
okona-may, Dai!" the beet red announcer whispered harshly.

Daisuke nodded, easily freeing himself.  "Sort of makes up for your 
little 'Work With Me, Daisuke' marathon, doesn't it?"

Hiroshi just glared.

By the ring, Ranma was glaring, although for a completely different 
reason.  The heir to the Saotome School of Martial Arts hadn't even 
noticed the byplay between his old friends; his attention was consumed 
by quite another problem.  "You ain't gonna be fighting in that, are 
you?"

James glanced down at his sequined dress.  "What?  Does the color clash 
with my complexion?"

Ranma groaned.

"Everyone!" Jessie called out.  "Listen up!  This means you, Ash, you 
JERK!"  The crowd hushed.  "What you did to poor Pikachu was 
unforgivable!  We're going to rescue him, and then YOU'LL be the one 
that's blasting off again!"  Cheers.  "Okay, James!  Go out there and 
show everyone how a real Pokemon trainer fights!"

"Gurk," said James eloquently.

"... James?"  Jessie turned, her mind screaming a warning.  She had just 
enough time to see James crumpled on the ground, blood running down his 
face, and bring her arms up in a pathetic attempt to block; all she saw 
then was a blur as an arm whipped around and a fist slammed into her 
forehead.  Unconscious immediately, the young Pokemon trainer collapsed 
on top of her partner.

Hiroshi stared, open-mouthed.  "Oh my God..."

"Change of plans, Saotome."  Iori Yagami flexed his bloody hand and 
snarled.  "You and me, we've got some unfinished business."

Ranma's fists clenched.  "Any time."

][ UNSCHEDULED GAMMA GRUDGE MATCH
][ RANMA SAOTOME vs. IORI YAGAMI
][ FIGHT!

"MOKO TAKABISHA!"

"Shut up and die," Iori suggested, hurling crimson fire.  Confidence-
fueled ki met hereditary flame; the opposing blasts dissipated on 
impact.

"What's this about, Iori?" asked Ranma.  "Didn't you get beat up enough 
last week?"  Dancing in close, he hurled a punch that knocked Iori's 
head back.

The psycho bishounen growled, raking at Ranma's face with his nails.  
"Hardly.  You were there.  'Good dog,' remember?  I had that fight won 
until you decided to screw with me."

"Hey, I ain't the one who can't control his temper."  Ranma smirked, 
blocking.  "Bad dog.  Get down!"

Snarling, Iori lashed into a spinning Shiki Oniyaki uppercut.  Orange-
red flames swirled around him as Ranma went flying.   "This is it, 
Saotome.  No more insults.  No more crap.  You're going down, and this 
time you won't have Sagat to hide behind."

"Then no more talk," snarled Ranma.

"Die," agreed Iori.

"KACHU TENSHIN AMAGURIKEN!"  Ranma's fists were a blur as he hammered 
Iori's upper body.  Iori staggered back, hurling another ground 
fireball; Ranma sidestepped, kicking swiftly at the enraged redhead.  

Absorbing the kicks, Iori aimed a swift punch at Ranma's face; the 
Neriman brought up his right hand and caught the punch, grunting with 
the impact.  The scene held for a moment, Iori's tendons starkly 
outlined as he pushed forward, until Ranma's greater strength began to 
come into play; shoving Iori's fist back, Ranma swung at him with a 
left-handed uppercut.  Iori knocked the punch away, and his knee came 
up, grazing Ranma's groin: the cursed martial artist's eyes widened as 
he stepped swiftly back.

"A low blow by Iori!" shouted Hiroshi.  "He's pulling out all the 
stops!"

"You mean another low blow," commented Daisuke, glancing over to where 
stretchers were carrying off the fallen Team Rocket.  "Not that I 
condone Iori's actions, 'Roshi, but if Ranma had interfered and lost me 
the Gamma belt, I'd be pretty angry too."

"MOKO TAKABISHA!"  The blast of ki energy sent Iori tumbling away; Ranma 
leapt for the fallen redhead, but Iori was on his feet almost instantly, 
grabbing Ranma out of the air and throwing him to the ground.  Several 
brutal claw strikes followed; grabbing Iori's arm after the last of 
them, Ranma used the bishounen as leverage and yanked himself to his 
feet.

Iori's hand gripped Ranma's own arm harshly.  With a grin, he headbutted 
Ranma; blood ran from the cursed fighter's nose as he broke his 
opponent's grip and reeled back.  Ranma returned with a series of head-
height kicks, stunning Iori; the Neriman closed in to deliver a powerful 
spinning kick that his opponent barely dodged.

"First blood," commented Daisuke.  "I've got a bad feeling that it isn't 
going to be the last."

Off balance from the spin kick, Ranma nevertheless almost managed to 
avoid Iori as the enraged redhead slammed into him.  Knocked to the 
side, he ducked Iori's wild claw swipe and punched for his face; Iori 
blocked the rather awkward blow and seized Ranma's arm, hurling him to 
the ground.  A kick aimed for Ranma's gut glanced off his shoulder as he 
rolled away.

*He's not even slowing down!* Ranma growled to himself.  *Jeez, he 
really must be pissed about the dog crack.*  Leaping to his feet, Ranma 
hurled another Moko Takabisha ki blast - wincing when he noticed it was 
slightly weaker than his first two - and when Iori set his feet and 
blocked the projectile, Ranma rolled forwards, snapping one leg out in a 
sweep kick that sent the psycho to the ground.

Iori snarled with pain as he got up this time, his fire coiling and 
snapping around him.  With a howl, he hurled the mass of crimson flame 
at Ranma; the half-standing fighter was unable to dodge, and the blast 
knocked him off his feet and sent him rolling away.

Hiroshi winced.  "Ranma's tough, but his opponent's fighting better than 
usual today.  I don't know if Ranma is going to be a match for Iori's 
burning vigor."

Daisuke turned away from the carnage at ringside long enough to glare.

Wisps of smoke rising from his clothes, Ranma dropped into a modified 
Shotokan fighting stance, firing a straight punch into Iori's throat; 
the redhead coughed, staggering back, then snapped out a low kick and 
lunged again.  Another of Ranma's kicks was knocked aside.  Grunting, 
Iori jabbed an elbow into Ranma's stomach; as he doubled over, Iori 
grabbed his head and slammed it hard into the ground.  Red flames 
erupted.

Ranma pulled himself up to meet Iori's charge.  Clenching his fist, he 
focused ki through his arm; with a wordless scream, his uppercut smashed 
into Iori's chin.  Coming down hard, the redhead staggered to his feet, 
wiping a line of blood away from his mouth.  He snarled.

Hiroshi gaped.  "What is it going to take to put Iori down?  Ladies and 
gentlemen, this is one ultra-violent, ULTROCIOUS grudge match!"

Ranma pummeled Iori again with the Chestnut Fist; Iori dropped back, 
then ducked a high kick that passed overhead.  His punch slammed into 
Ranma's gut.  The cursed fighter brought a knee up to knock him away, 
but Iori braced for the blow.  Grabbing Ranma's knee as it smashed into 
his chest, the psycho bishounen sunk his nails into the leg and tore.  

Iori's claws ripped through Ranma's leg; he felt the sharp, spiking 
pain, and reacted instinctively, swinging his other leg up in a crescent 
kick that connected with Iori's lower jaw hard enough to break bone.  
The redheaded fighter reeled back and collapsed.  Then Ranma's weight 
came down hard on his injured leg; a whimper escaped his lips as he 
stumbled and fell.

Staggering to his feet again, Iori threw back his head and screamed.

At the announcers' table, Hiroshi and Daisuke watched in horrified 
silence.

*He's gone berserk,* Ranma realized.  *I've got to end this.*  Pulling 
himself up, feeling a stab of pain through his injured leg - *that's 
going to slow me* - the braided fighter circled Iori, lurching into an 
awkward spiral pattern.

Red-orange flames seared over the ground.  Ranma almost failed to dodge, 
and Iori's following claw strike came even closer to connecting.  *He's 
totally focused on hitting me,* Ranma thought.  *Good.  I can lead him.*  
Wild, Iori lunged for his opponent, who always - barely, barely, with a 
slight limp and blood running down his leg, growing slower with every 
pass - managed to avoid the strikes.

The spiral tightened.  Ranma could feel Iori's hot ki beating against 
him in waves, and he had to strive to keep his own battle aura cool and 
focused.  He stepped back, blocking, as Iori struck at him with a 
flaming uppercut; the berserker landed facing away from Ranma, and the 
Neriman pushed his abused body into the final steps of the spiral.  
"Hiru," he snarled.  "Shoten -"

Moving almost too fast to be seen, Iori blurred low over the ground, 
lunging for where he knew Ranma would be.

*Pattern,* Ranma thought, horrified realization flashing through his 
mind.  *He knows it.  Damn, stupid -*  Then Iori connected, and the 
cursed fighter's thoughts became a blur of brutal punches and claw 
strikes.

"Oh my God!" shouted Hiroshi, snapped out of his daze.  "Iori is 
SHREDDING Ranma with the Maiden Masher!"

Iori howled as he tore viciously at his hated rival.  Hurling Ranma 
bleeding to the ground, the psychotic fighter bent over him, an 
expression of insane rage twisting his features.  As each punch landed 
on his prone opponent, arcs of searing flame blasted from his hands.  
With one final howl, Iori raised his hands high, shaking with rage and 
pain, and then smashed both fists into Ranma's face; the enormous gout 
of fire that exploded outwards rivaled Tasuki's.

Panting, Iori stared down at Ranma, blood trickling from his nose and 
mouth.  An expression beyond hatred flashed through his eyes - 
satisfaction? - but it was gone as soon as it appeared.

"And..."  Hiroshi looked around, but the referee appointed for the 
Ranma/James match had wisely vacated the ring when Iori showed.  "It 
looks like the winner is Iori Yagami."

"In one of the bloodiest fights I've seen in a while," agreed Daisuke.  
"It's sort of like a car wreck - horrifying, but you can't look away."

As the crowd slowly realized that the fight was over, an angry murmur 
ran though the stands.  It grew, and swelled, until thirty thousand 
people - minus a few diehard Ranma-haters - were booing Iori as loudly 
as they possibly could.  He stood over Ranma's crumpled body for almost 
a minute, a crooked smirk feeding the hatred and loathing of the crowd, 
then beckoned with a finger.  "You.  Microphone."

"Huh?" blinked Hiroshi.

Iori growled.  "I just took down Ranma.  I could kill you without 
breaking a sweat."

Shrugging, Daisuke tossed his microphone over.  Iori easily grabbed it 
out of the air.  "Okay, shut up," he snapped into it.  He waited a few 
seconds as the crowd ignored him, and then - "SHUT THE HELL UP!"

The crowd silenced.  Mostly.  A few stalwart foes continued to boo.

Iori smirked again.  "The sooner you morons shut the hell up, the sooner 
this moron -" and here he aimed a vicious kick at Ranma - "gets his 
sorry ass to a hospital.  But if you want him to bleed to death right 
here in front of you, fine.  I don't give a damn."

Absolute silence.

"Listen up," Iori growled darkly.  Aside from his voice, the only sound 
in the entire UltraDome was the muffled breathing of thirty thousand 
human beings.  "I know you hate me.  I don't give a damn that you hate 
me.  What pisses me off is that you don't respect me.  You think I'm a 
joke, and I'm SICK OF IT."

Pacing up and down across the arena floor, Iori's eyes blazed with 
anger.  "There used to be a unofficial title, you know.  'Biggest Badass 
in Ultra'.  I held that title.  Still do, in fact, but nobody gives a 
damn.  After all, I'm not a badass, am I?  Bandit is a badass.  Sagat is 
a badass.  I'm just some red-haired freak who gets pulled out when there 
aren't any REAL fighters around."  Iori spat.  "To hell with that."

"When I got the Gamma title shot last week, I thought things were 
looking up.  I thought I was starting to be respected again.  No such 
luck.  Turns out that idiot Jack just wanted to make Saotome - that 
worthless son-of-a-bitch SAOTOME - look good at my expense.  That's when 
I finally figured out that if I want respect, I'd better come out here 
and beat it into somebody, because I'm sure as HELL not getting it when 
I play by the rules."

Ranma started to twitch.  Iori's foot shot out, knocking the cursed 
fighter's head against the side of the ring.  He gasped once and lay 
still again.

"I have had enough of being ignored.  I have had enough of fighting at 
the whim of a spiky-haired freak.  I have had enough of losing to little 
kids and getting shoved into rigged fights for your amusement.  And I 
have had ENOUGH OF THIS SHIT!"  His shout seemed to shake the UltraDome.  
"Saotome's not bleeding on the ground because I wanted to entertain you.  
He's bleeding because he was the last loose end for me to tie up.  He's 
bleeding because I remember when he was the man to beat instead of just 
another joke.  And finally -" Iori turned his burning gaze on Ranma's 
unmoving form - "he's bleeding because I damn well felt like it." 

Iori's gaze swept the audience from end to end.  Whatever he saw there 
seemed to satisfy him.  "Goodbye, Ultra," he said quietly.  "To hell 
with you all."

Hurling down the microphone, Iori stalked past the audience to the 
UltraDome door.  As he walked, the booing and catcalls began again, 
until the entire 'Dome shook and quivered with the cacophony.  But in 
the seats Iori passed by there was only trembling silence.  He paused, 
briefly, in the doorway, looking back into the 'Dome; then he spat on 
the ground and vanished.

With Iori gone, the roars of hatred slowly died away.  In silence, the 
medical crews lifted Ranma's still form and carried him off.  Silence 
hung over the UltraDome; silence hung over the announcers' table. 
"Well," said Daisuke finally.

"Well," stated Hiroshi.  He put down his intercom.  "I'm told that Ranma 
will survive.  A concussion, some internal bleeding... it wasn't as bad 
as it looked.  He's had worse."

"Good to hear."

Silence stretched.

"Say goodnight, Hiroshi."

"Goodnight, Hiroshi."

*-*-*

Mashing the 'off' button on his remote with a growl, Lei Wulong turned 
off the television and stared at the blank screen.  Damn that red-headed 
punk!  He'd find Iori and beat the truth out of him -

No.  He was forgetting who he was; a cop, not an Ultra fighter who 
needed to extract justice with his fists.  He'd put in a call to the 
Tokyo PD.  They would take Yagami in, hold him as a material witness, 
interrogate him...

Lei winced.  And that would do absolutely no good at all.  He didn't 
have any actual proof; just some suggestive rambling by a half-drunk 
bastard in a darkened auditorium.  They couldn't hold on to the punk 
long with such weak evidence, and probably wouldn't get anything out of 
him anyway.  No, the only way he'd get anything out of Yagami would be 
by confronting him privately, informally, and personally.

Which meant he'd just seen his best lead - his only lead, truth to tell 
- walk out of the UltraDome, vowing never to return.

The ghost of Johnny Cage seemed to hover over his head, looking at him 
accusingly.  'Who?' it asked, Cage's remembered voice murmuring softly 
in his imagination.  'Why?'

Lei had no answer.

*-*-*

Heavily bandaged, Nakoruru sat next to her sister in Ultra's infirmary 
and sighed.  Her sister was sleeping; Mousse's final attack had bruised 
her seriously and barely missed cracking ribs, and the doctors had 
confined her to bed for the next day or so.  Nakoruru's injuries were 
more vivid, with a mottled bruise along the right side of her face, but 
less serious.  She ached terribly, though, and if Rimururu was awake 
she'd certainly be feeling worse.  The older girl sighed again; Konril, 
floating nearby, flickered sympathetically.  

Shikuruu, curled up at the foot of Nakoruru's bed, slept fitfully.  
Nakoruru shivered at the thought of what could have happened to him; 
Nabiki Tendo, the woman apparently in charge of this strange tournament, 
had been extremely sarcastic on the subject of little girls who brought 
wild animals into her UltraDome, and Nakoruru was very much afraid she 
wouldn't have been able to protect her friend if the Tendo woman had 
ordered him killed.  She would have fought to the death for him, but the 
people here had strange and terrible powers.  Not even the demon Amakusa 
was as powerful as some of the 'Omega roster'...

Looking down at her peacefully sleeping sister, Nakoruru felt cold 
dread.  What if Nabiki Tendo changed her mind, and decided to banish 
them?  They wouldn't be able to travel quickly, if at all, until they 
healed; even if they could, where would they go?  This world was so 
different from theirs, and the only other person they knew, the noble 
samurai Haohmaru, was so changed!   Worried, Nakoruru sank into her 
chair, staring into space.  With a whine, Shikuruu uncurled and limped 
towards her, sitting by her feet; the Ainu girl wound her small fingers 
in the wolf's long gray hair.

"So, child," commented an amused voice.  "How does it feel to be a 
cheater?"

"AAAAAH!"  Nakoruru jumped from her chair, immediately stumbling as the 
pain hit.  On his perch at the head of the bed, Mamahaha spread his 
wings and screeched; Shikuruu bared his teeth, and Rimururu tossed 
uneasily in her sleep.  The girl spun around to glare at Morrigan.  
"What do you want, unholy one?"

The succubus looked innocent.  "Can't I just be hoping for your swift 
recovery?"

"No," stated Nakoruru flatly.

"Ah well," shrugged Morrigan.  "My sister was always better at playing 
sweet and innocent.  Your sister, on the other hand... I don't think 
she's playing."  She drifted towards the bed where Rimururu lay.  "I've 
always enjoyed the innocent ones most..."

Nakoruru's blade - not the wooden Gamma replacement, but Chichiushi, her 
razor-sharp kodachi, forged by one of Japan's master smiths - was 
instantly at Morrigan's throat.  "YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY SISTER!"

Unconcerned with the short sword hovering inches from her skin, Morrigan 
raised an eyebrow.  "So impetuous.  Do tell me, child.  How does it feel 
to be a cheater?"

"You're the cheater, hellspawn!" snapped Nakoruru.  "Will you go away 
and leave us alone?"

"I don't think so."  With one finger, Morrigan pushed the blade away 
from her neck; the succubus licked off the thin line of blood that 
welled from her fingertip and smiled.  "When your sister placed that 
curse on poor Mousse, your brute of a wolf there chased him all through 
the UltraDome after he'd tagged out.  You very nearly killed him.  
Thankfully, some wise and generous person managed to reverse the spell 
before something truly tragic occurred."

The Ainu maiden lowered her gaze, shamed.  Beside her, Shikuruu 
stretched out and dropped his head to the ground, covering his eyes with 
his paws.  "Shikuruu was just confused by all the people and the noise.  
We won't let it happen again."  Then she glared.  "But my sister did NOT 
curse Mousse!"  The nature of the Chinese boy's Jusenkyo curse was one 
of the many subjects touched on by Nabiki Tendo.  "It's not like you and 
Haohmaru, hitting me when my back was turned!"

"Ah, Haohmaru."  The demoness smiled.  "Pompous, annoying, and rather 
obnoxious.  I'm surprised you didn't snap him up back when you knew him.  
You two seem like such a perfect match."

"When I knew Haohmaru, he was nothing like that!" Nakoruru glared.  "He 
was our ally, and a honorable man!"

"Was he?"  Morrigan purred.  "I do so enjoy honorable men."

"What did you do to him, monster?"

Morrigan laughed.  "I did nothing to that ridiculous oaf.  I didn't need 
to.  Ever since I've known him, and I've known him a long time, dear 
Nakoruru -" the succubus smiled invitingly at the young girl, who 
flinched back - "he's been exactly as loud, boorish, and treacherous as 
he was when you met him last."

"I won't believe you."

"I don't care whether or not you believe me," Morrigan smiled.  "Naive, 
innocent, hopeless little girl... You'll provide me with a great deal of 
entertainment, by and by."  She stretched, arching her back so her 
breasts pushed against the thin material of her dress.  "You might even 
come to enjoy it."  In a soft rush of wind, she was gone.

Nakoruru choked back a sob.  She had to be strong.  The succubus could 
come back, and there was no one else to protect her sister.  She 
wouldn't let Morrigan hurt Rimururu, or worse, get hold of her sister's 
soul as the demoness had with Haohmaru.  Nakoruru didn't even want to 
think about what Morrigan must have done to the samurai; she may be 
naive and innocent, but not so innocent as to believe the lies of a 
hellspawn.

"I'll protect you, sister," whispered Nakoruru.  Unshed tears glittered 
in the young maiden's eyes; tears for her sister, tears for her once-
upon-a-time ally.  "Haohmaru-san," she sighed.  "I'll free you from that 
monster woman.  I promise."

*-*-*

Akane Tendo - 'Roxy' - lounged in her dressing room, blonde wig askance, 
and sighed.  She'd lost.  More, she'd lost to Li Ping - the boy wasn't 
even a serious martial artist, he'd taught himself by watching old Kung 
Fu movies! - and the fight had even been partially aerial, the type of 
combat in which Anything Goes Martial Arts was supposed to excel. But 
she was only depressed; she wasn't angry about losing, and she wondered 
why.

She looked around the room.  She didn't need it - Akane had another 
dressing room, the one next to Ranma's - but Jack had insisted 'Roxy' 
move to an entirely different part of the 'Dome.  To give her a 'total 
immersion experience', he'd commented, and just parenthetically to keep 
spare wigs, vocal modulators, contact lenses and all the other bits that 
went into her disguise, so she'd have them nearby in case of an 
accident.  Akane knew people wouldn't understand why 'Roxy' was in 
Akane's room, and avoiding Ranma while disguised was important - she 
didn't know if she could fool him close up - but why did Jack insist on 
American furniture?  Why the soft drinks in the fridge?  And why, in the 
name of all that was holy, that huge, grotesque poster of motorcycle 
riders in a wasteland with the obscure gaijin title of 'Road Warrior'?

Staring at that ridiculous poster, though, Akane suddenly realized why 
the rage she usually felt after being defeated had vanished.

When Akane Tendo got in trouble, other people bailed her out.  Usually 
Ranma.  It was like the Gamma title fight at UltraRage Eta; Akane would 
charge wildly in to prove herself and get hurt, Ranma would try and 
rescue her, and, if they survived, Ranma would say something insulting 
and insensitive and get knocked into low earth orbit.  'Roxy' didn't 
have anybody watching over her; when she got in trouble, she'd damn well 
bail herself out or take the consequences.  She'd lost on her own; no 
one had ran in and saved her, as if she couldn't handle losing, and 
Akane wondered just how much of her habitual rage, how much of her need 
to prove herself, had come from being rescued over and over again.

Ranma...

A sharp knife of guilt tore through Akane's gut.

Iori had hurt Ranma just a little while ago.  Badly.  True, he'd been 
hurt as badly before, and he'd always bounced back; but right now he was 
laying in the infirmary, and she wasn't with him.  More, she didn't 
really want to be with him, and she didn't know why.  She felt sorry for 
Ranma.  If Iori had hurt him badly, she'd hunt the bastard down and 
break him apart.  But she didn't feel as worried or as sorry for Ranma 
as she thought she should, and that made her feel guilty.  She loved 
him, didn't she?  Why wasn't she at his bedside right now?

Because that was what Akane would do.  Akane would hover over her hero 
protectively until he was well enough to defend her again.  But she 
wasn't being Akane right now.  She was 'Roxy', and 'Roxy' didn't come 
running when someone who could take care of himself got hurt.  But she 
still felt guilty for it.

She blinked, startled, as someone knocked loudly on her door.  Making 
certain her wig was straight and her patch was on the correct eye - it 
wouldn't do to show she didn't really need the patch, certainly not 
after Hiroshi's 'daughter of Sagat' comments! - Roxy nodded at the 
poster on the wall before swinging open the door.

A smiling, dark-haired teenager in a schoolgirl's fuku stood outside.

"Hi!"

"Hi!" said Roxy, returning the smile.  "Sakura, right?  Come on in."

The Street Fighter bounced into the room, looking around wide-eyed and 
blinking at the poster.  *That thing affects everyone,* Akane thought.  
*Bet Bean Bandit would like it, though, with his thing for American 
cars.*  "So," she said to her guest, "what's up?"

"I saw your fight with Li.  Congratulations!  That was impressive!"  
Sakura beamed.  "You're a Shotokan-trained fighter, aren't you?"

"No!" Roxy snapped reflexively.

"Oh."  The girl in the fuku sighed.  "I was hoping you might know Ryu-
sama."  Then she brightened again.  "But that cool vertical spinning 
kick of yours looked a lot like a Tatsumaki-Senpuukyaku.  Where'd you 
learn it?  What's your style?"

"Anything -" *No!* Akane stopped herself abruptly.  *I can't say 
Anything Goes.  She can't make the connection.*  "- and everything," 
Roxy said cheerfully.  "Fighting in the alleys, you see a bunch of 
different moves; I watched the best and learned from how they fought.  I 
ain't been in a real dojo in my life."

"So you're self-taught?"

"Yeah."  Roxy grinned.  "Those moves you saw earlier - Shotokan, you 
call 'em? - are some of my favorites, though."

Sakura's eyes widened.  "You're a self-taught Shotokaner?"

*Gah!*  Akane suddenly realized she'd trapped herself.  "Well, sort of -
"

"This is so cool!"  Sakura grinned.  "I taught myself Shotokan karate, 
too, although Ken-sensei and Ryu-sama gave me some pointers; Dan-sensei 
trained me for a while, too, but he really doesn't count.  Hey, we could 
train together!  Would you like that?"  

"Um..."  Both Akane and Roxy were at a loss for words.

Grabbing the other girl by the hand, Sakura began pulling her out into 
the hallway.  "Come on!  I want you to meet Shingo.  This is so 
exciting!"

Confused, but caught up in Sakura's enthusiasm, Akane allowed herself to 
be pulled along.

*-*-*

Yaga sat in his dressing room, scowling. Things were *not* going 
according to plan.  It was supposed to be easy. He was the Great Yaga, 
the most beloved superstar in the history of Japanese wrestling. They 
were supposed to cheer him, dammit!

But they weren't. And it was all because of that damn idiot Jack.

He'd underestimated the spiky-haired bastard, Yaga admitted to himself.  
Jack was a cunning booker, and he'd manipulated things to make Yaga look 
bad time after time.  At one point, things might have been salvageable, 
but after the debacle at Reboot... if he didn't realize then that he'd 
lost the crowd, tonight was the clincher. He'd fought a competent, 
respectable opponent, didn't use his contract, and won fair and 
square... and still they booed him. Loudly.

"Let it never be said that the Great Yaga doesn't give the crowd what it 
wants," he said, chuckling menacingly. "If they want me to be the 
heel... well, then I'll make myself into the top bad guy in this damn 
company, and show them, and Jack, how a heel really acts... and why you 
do NOT screw with the Great Yaga!"

"And I know just how to do it..." 

*-*-*

In a place that was only a place by extremely imprecise analogy, a 
child-goddess sat and thought.  The little girl considered what had 
happened that night and tried, very hard, not to cry. 

It hadn't been all bad.  There were points of light, of joy and freedom, 
and maybe they shone all the brighter for the darkness around them.  But 
people had been scared, beaten, hurt, humiliated; sometimes through 
their own choices, other times because of the choices made by others.  
Did she have the right to interfere with their free will, like 
Sephiroth-sama wanted her to?  Even if they would be better off for it?  
Or should she listen to Washuu-momma, and let them make their own 
mistakes?  Mary knew she was nowhere close to an answer, but their 
suffering tugged at her heart.

But, for now, it was over.  Just one loose end remained, and it would 
sew itself up without her doing anything.  She really shouldn't meddle 
with it...

... but Lina-sama had said she could meddle with Ultra, right?

And it would make him so happy!

Mary giggled.

*-*-*

Super Taunting Former Fifteen Percent Godhead Omega Legend Stone Cold 
Dan Hibiki was not having a good time.

When one is a Super Saikyo-Jin, possessing an enormous aura of power and 
spiky pink hair, tiny things like exploding planetoids, bitter cold and 
lack of oxygen are merely minor irritants.  Dan laughed at the empty 
vacuum of space!  For he was Dan!  And Dan is MIGHTY!

Unfortunately, even if one is fueled by the nigh-infinite powers of 
one's own raging ego, there are certain physical laws that one must pay 
heed to.  To wit: in order to taunt, one requires air to fill the lungs 
and atmosphere to carry the sound waves.  If one is foolish enough to 
taunt while lacking these requirements, one merely floats aimlessly 
about, opening and closing one's mouth like a gutted fish, and, in 
summary, looking a right idiot.

Drifting in interplanetary space somewhere near the orbit of Mars, Dan 
Hibiki looked a right idiot.

Dan was... well, not depressed.  It was impossible for Dan to lower his 
ego enough to feel anything like depression.  But it was cold.  And 
dark.  And all the stars looked the same.  And while mentally taunting 
the cold and the dark and the stars was all right in its place, if no 
one could hear him it was hardly the same.  And the microgravity was 
making him nauseous.  But Stone Cold Dan Hibiki would not give in!  Dan 
was strong!  Dan was courageous!  Dan... Dan wanted his mommy!

A faint noise, like a child's whispered giggle, drifted past Dan's ears.  
At first, the True Master of Saikyo believed he was hallucinating; then, 
struck by a sudden hope, he opened his mouth, and:

"YOSH!"

Dan's aura expanded exponentially as confidence surged into him.

"YAHOOIE!  BORABORABORABORA!"  Manly tears running down his face, Dan 
shouted joyously in complete defiance of all known physical laws.  "Even 
the emptiness of space is no match for STONE COLD DAN HIBIKI!  I laugh 
at you, void!  Listen, as I taunt you:  DOSHITA!  DOSHITA!  Dan shall 
escape you, and return to Ultra!  For the honor of my father!  OYAJI!!!"

Blazing with renewed energy, Dan performed two rolls and a mighty 
forearm shake; then, looping around the planet Mars a few times to pick 
up velocity, the Super Saikyo-Jin hurtled like a manly pink meteor 
towards the shining blue speck far ahead.

Two days later, after a scenic tour of Neptune, Dan proceeded to hurtle 
towards the other shining blue speck.  And this time, he would truly 
return to Ultra!  For Dan is MIGHTY!

*-*-*

][ LEI WULONG gets down with IORI
][ AKANE is READY to KICK ASS
][ VEGA does not get a TITLE FIGHT
][ YAGA is PISSED
][ MOUSSE and TASUKI defeat SPIRITS OF NATURE
][ DUO MAXWELL defeats NAGA
][ YAGA actually APOLOGIZES
][ THE GREAT YAGA defeats LEI WULONG
][ LI PING defeats AKANE 'ROXY' TENDO
][ ROXY has NO HARD FEELINGS    
][ DARK SCHNEIDER cheats his way to VICTORY
][ IORI YAGAMI defeats RANMA SAOTOME
][ IORI leaves ULTRA
][ LEI is the ONLY PERSON who WANTS IORI BACK
][ MORRIGAN twits NAKORURU
][ SAKURA visits ROXY
][ YAGA has a FIENDISH PLOT
][ MARY meddles with ULTRA
][ DAN tours the PLANETS

*-*-*

"My first attempts soon convinced me how utterly I had failed.  Sadly, 
miserably, I fell short of my aspired goal.  My vivid dreams became on 
paper mere jumbles of ponderous adjectives..."  -Robert Bloch, 'The 
Shambler from the Stars'

I'm not sure what the problem is here.  I like ponderous adjectives. ^_^

... wow.  This was work.  Lots and lots of work.  Ghastly, sweat-
dripping, sleep-depriving, intensely focused WORK.

It was a hell of a lot of fun and I'm never ever doing it again.

Mad props to Jesse Ellman, the Eternal Lost Lurker, Ranma X, various and 
sundry others, and the entire #improfanfic community for advice, 
assistance and the odd well-deserved flame.  Big ol' mad props to 
Twoflower for giving me the chance to do this, being nice about my 
stupider ideas, answering all my (many) letters, and being patient with 
me while #79 sat in limbo, large piles of personal shit having been 
dumped on me at the time...

Eh.  It's done!  I'm happy!  Comments, questions and constructive 
criticism can be e-mailed to me or dumped on the message board as usual; 
flamers and Grammar Nazis will be referred to my associate, Mr. O.  O?

Mr. O: "I [PITY] the [FOOL] who opposes the [VOID!]"

Ith: [blinking] "Well, that's all very nice, but..."

Mr. O: "An' I [PITY] the [FOOL] who tries to flame Ith!"

Ith: ^_^ "Thanks." 

Mr. O: "Any [FOOL] who tries to flame Ith will be [CONSUMED] by the 
[VOID!]"

Ith: "..."

Mr. O: "An' then I'll take that [SUCKA] and throw him [HELLUVA FAR!]"

Ith: O_o "Okay, okay, down, boy..."

Mr. O: "You talking back to Mr. [O]?  Quit your [JIBBER-JABBER], [FOOL!] 
I [PITY] you!"

Ith: "Ohhhh... crap."

[Ith proceeds to run like hell.]

Mr. O: "You'll never escape, [SUCKA!]  The [VOID] is [HELLUVA FAST!]

Ith: "AAAAAAH!"  [runs faster]

Ifurita: [raised eyebrow] "What's the matter?"

Ith: [pant pant] "Crazed figment... of subconscious... physical form... 
Void..." [collapses]

Mr. O: [glaring at Ifurita] "Out of the way, [FOOL!]

Ifurita: "Technique #715: IDDQD.  Technique #716: IDKFA."  [aims the BFG 
at Mr. O]  "Technique #0: Taunting.  Eat flaming plasma death.  
Biyatch."

Mr. O: "Nani?"

[BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!]

Mr. O: o_O "Oh, crap."

[The fanfic is promptly reduced to a smouldering waste.  In the center 
of the shattered ruin stands Ifurita, unscathed, spinning the BFG around 
one finger.]

Ifurita: "Technique #324: Aura of Smooth." [raises one eyebrow] "Sorry 
about the mess."

Ith: [lifting his head out of the rubble] "... no problem.  What I get 
for being silly."

[Ithaqua falls backwards.  The fanfic collapses in around him]

-Ith
8/1/2001