The Wandering Saotome Chapter 3
By Dr. Suekeiichi Kaiton
vze2jcwc@verizon.net

"Japanese"
[Thoughts]
<Chinese>
(Footnotes or Author's commentary)

---Nerima, Tendo Dojo---

	"Is anyone home?  Genma?"  A tall shadow of a woman descended on
the group, a glinting sword wavering in her hand.  The voice came from
the hall, nearly drowned out by the incessant clatter of metal gutters
overflowing with water from outside.  The shadow seemed immense
through the rice-paper doors, a gigantic woman wielding a foot long
sword and although it seemed preposterous to those waiting with bated
breath for her entrance, Nodoka Saotome was a horrible swordsman.
Genma seemed more afraid of her trying to cut his head off than
slitting his own belly, at least by doing it himself he knew what
would happen, Nodoka would probably keep slashing again and again
until she reduced his back to ribbons and missed his spine completely.

	A full range of emotions played upon the anxious faces of the
group huddled in the living room.  Ranma was pinioned between two
Tendo daughters with the third attempting to beat him soundly with a
very large table leg. Trying to stave off the anxiety of meeting his
long lost mother for the first time in fourteen years, he hoped
against all hope to make amends and integrate her into his life.  The
fear of abandonment was great in his mind as delicately manicured
fingers wormed inside the still room.  Nabiki dared not make a noise
as Auntie Nodoka's quick temper was legendary in the Tendo household,
as was her proficiency, or lack thereof, in the sword.  Clutching
Ranma's arm deeper into the valley that was her cleavage, she half
hid, half shielded herself from the explosion that would likely occur.
Kasumi's smile wavered as she imagined what Auntie might do to poor
Ranma when she met him, after all, it wasn't everyday that a man
looking about twenty tries to tell you he's your son.  Akane wanted to
wrap her hands around Ranma's throat for how he was molesting her
sisters and could think of no better punishment that to have him die
slowly by Nodoka's katana.  Preferably very slowly.

	Genma had passed out from the pain of having jaws capable of
biting through solid steel clamped to his gut.

Soun was on the verge of tears as he saw the tableau of his
son-in-law's entrails hacked to pieces by Nodoka's poor skills with
the sword and his blood staining the carpet Kasumi had just washed.  A
burned out cigarette hung from his feeble lips as his last chance for
his daughter's happiness was dashed to pieces by the appearance of
Genma's wife.  Kasumi had finally found a man, Nabiki had finally
found a man, Akane had finally found a gun...well, that happened
several years ago and the police were still snooping around the
homestead for the murder weapon, but they were all happy!  Why did
their hopes have to be crushed by the sandled heel of Nodoka Saotome's
wrath.  He resolved to beg for their lives.

	The door slid open and Ranma saw his mother for the first time in
his short (or long depending upon how you view it) life.  Auburn hair,
smooth skin and lithe figure that showed even through the thick kimono
stained with water from the outside.  In her icy hands was a folded
umbrella.  The room breathed a collective sigh of relief as she posed
no real threat with a plastic umbrella, a metal one perhaps but no one
would be beheaded on this day.  It was after that moment of relief
that Nodoka pulled her katana from under the folds of her umbrella and
her face curled into a feral snarl more believable from a wolf and
certainly not befitting one of Nodoka's stature.

	"Genma.  DIE HUSBAND!!"  She dove towards the unconscious fat man
while whipping her katana through the air in front of her like a
stick, missing the other denizens of the room by mere inches.  Kasumi
wisely joined her father in hiding under the table, Akane flattened
herself against the far wall behind the television, Ranma dove on top
of Nabiki with a cry of "Get down!" and pressed her already hot body
against his own.  He felt two squishy warm orbs of flesh flatten
themselves against his chest and her arms wrap around his back to push
him harder against her chest and hips, Ranma sweatdropped as she
became flushed as a stray swipe almost took his ear off.  "Come back
here, Genma!  Don't try running away after so long, it's time we had a
little talk, dear!"  The sword slashed down once again, slicing the
television into two halves and leaving Akane a gibbering mess tracing
the thin razor-edged line on her clothing.

	Ranma pushed Nabiki under the sofa, pressing into two rather
interesting parts of her anatomy before pulling the patented (in Teh
Sthlhu at least) vibro-rod, force-rod, force-stick, vibro-stick,
whatever you wanted to call it, from his tunic.  He ignited the
trigger and slashed downward, leaping from behind the furniture and
scaring the Saotome matriarch into spinning around with her katana
whirling to decapitate the assailant.  Luckily Ranma built his mecha
to last, or else this story would be very short, as it absorbed the
impact without a scratch and snapped the sword in two.  The broken
blade twirled in the air, light scintillating off the metal sheen,
before burying itself deep into the tatami mat between Genma's legs,
so close that it split the cloth crotch - but that's an image better
left to the imagination, or perhaps some perverted lecherous incest
fic (Shudder).  All the women present, even Nodoka grimaced and looked
away as Genma's meager endowment was revealed through the old gi
bottoms.

	"Stop this madness, now!!"  Ranma hollered as Nodoka looked
dumbly at the short hilt in her grasp.  Kasumi's head poked out from
under the table, Soun's underneath hers and Akane began to scream
after tearing open the remainder of her clothing.  "Whatever claim you
have to vengeance pales beside mine lady, this worthless lump of shit
made my life a living hell even after he was out of it!!!!!"  (Ranma
and the author will overlook his grammatically incorrect statement and
continue on with the fic)  Pak waddled out from behind the screens,
twin antenna shivering in fright, and raised a metallic paw at his
master.  "Yes, it's alright for you to come out now."  Nodoka simply
continued to stare at her prized katana, snapped in half so
nonchalantly.

	"And what you do think is suitable vengeance for the wrongs he
had committed, young man?"  Her eyes never left the imperfect edge of
her sword.  "Trial?  Money?"

	Ranma's eyes took an evil cast and he grinned evilly.  "Let me
show you dear lady."  His finger twitched on the handle of his
vibro-rod and the air parted where the unseen force stick appeared.
Pak crawled out from the porch and dragged Genma's unconscious body
further into the room and dropped the sack at his master's feet.  The
mecha then swiftly got out of his owner's range.  Nabiki and Akane
watched the proceedings carefully, Kasumi and Soun had since left the
safety of the table and were standing on either side of Nodoka.  "Mr.
Tendo you may want to cover your ears and leave the room, this sort of
punishment may adversely affect you.  Kasumi and the rest of you may
want to leave as well, this constitutes divine justice and should only
be seen by the lady and I."  Soun left quickly, not even wanting to
know exactly what constituted 'divine justice' in the young man's
book.  The girls, each knowing deep down that they were easily
unsettled, left shortly thereafter.

	Mother and son were left, neither knowing who the other was and
joined in their mutual pursuit of justice.  Ranma stood at Genma's
head and regarded the sprawled body for a moment before raising the
vibro-rod high above his head.  "You do realize that this is going to
hurt..."

	Mother gave son a fierce glare.  "Do it!"  She stretched out her
slim arm and pointed the thumb straight at the floor.  "Death!"  Her
hilt was next to her on the sofa, the rest of the blade embedded in
the floor.

	Ranma's arm flew swiftly up, poised on the threshold of a strike
and he swiftly slammed down hard.  Right at Genma's crotch.

	A normal hit would be painful, certainly, as man could attest to,
but with the enhanced strength of Ranma and the nigh invulnerability
of his vibro-rod, the results were...unthinkable.  Pak winced,
Nodoka's eyes glowed with righteous fury and Ranma wore a sick smirk.
There was a resounding crack of flesh, rebounding off the walls and
echoing far into the still, wet night.  The Tendo sisters looked up
from their tea, wondering what could have caused such an odd noise,
while their father cringed and ground his legs together.  Sounds
seemed to stop as the echo continued, that night all across Japan men
would cringe or shudder, reflexively clutching themselves as if in
some atavistic urge to sympathize with one of their own.

	And a girlish scream followed shortly thereafter, shattering the
lens on the Hubbell and cracking the domes on the pillars of
star-crossed Eylsia near Alpha Centuri.  This was quickly followed by
the laughter and tears of a reunited mother and son.

---Teh Sthlhu, Isle of The Dead---

	Faolum Eh Wattam, chieftain of the Dead Lands, Prince of the Isle
and commander of the Legions of the Rotting, scampered through the
corridors of the burial palace. The Palace had been constructed by the
Druidic Warriors during the tail-end of their reign to store the
remains of their dead.  After Maximillian's rise to power, the
palace's island home became a dumping ground for Teh Sthlhu's
deceased, as Faolum walked across the expanses of granite and
limestone, the island housed some 5.3 million dead.

	Of course the Druidic warriors were immortal (or so they liked to
think) and as such wove spells of resuscitation over the land, so the
dead that were buried on the Isle never stayed down, instead they
reanimated and lived on in their isolation.  Faolum Eh Wattam was one
of the first to be interred in the soil, and as such was gifted with
an abnormal amount of energy sufficing his being.  However, no matter
his own personal powers, he was a cowardly sycophant, cringing before
their true master - 'Seitak Ieu'Kinochi,' or hand of darkness in the
Druidic tongue.  He was on his way to the main audience chamber, a
spherical room where only he could enter and commune with Seitak
Ieu'Kinochi.

	Faolum was an odd amalgam of body parts and skin, each part
seemingly contradictory to the next, due in part to the many times
he'd been forced to graft new limbs to replace those damaged in battle
(Zombie battle scars I guess).  His face was that of a handsome Teh
Sthlhuian, his cheekbones chiseled and eyes intense.  Well, perhaps
'eye' would be a more apt term as the other dangled grotesquely from
its socket.  He was also missing the majority of the skin on his neck,
an ear and half of his hair.  His arms were rotting, giving off a
palpable stench of decay as he passed by, and his torso was grafted
from a fairly fat man.  In all, his body was a hodgepodge of different
parts all combined to form a helter-skelter zombie.

	The massive doors of the Audience chamber were before him, the
granite doors locked tightly with spells cast to only dissipate from
his touch, the best kind of security in the world.  "Here me ghosts of
the past, dead of the present and living ones of the future, break the
seal and let me pass!"  His thin, reedy, nasal voice echoed off the
walls.

	The doors burst into flame, the spells disintegrating at his
command, leaving only polished stone and metal.  He allowed himself a
smug smirk before pushing the doors open, one with each hand...which
ended up not being quite the best idea as his wrist cracked off the
arm and his hand fell to the marble floor with a wet splurtch of
flesh.  Cursing the indignities he faced every day, Faolum snatched
the ruined hand off the floor and funneled a substantial amount of
energy into it, revitalizing cellular functions to a workable level.
With his hand reattached and his reserve strong, he walked into the
darkened chamber.

	"Lord of the dark, master of all who live on this plane, I have
come at your command to grovel at your feet."  He knelt and bowed his
head to the floor, waiting for the voice to answer his call.

	The torches outside the chamber dimmed, the earth thrumming in
syncopation with the revolutions of dark energy twirling aimlessly
above Faolum's head.  The palace shook as the revolutions became
stronger, faster, tighter, the stones crying out for reprieve.  A
crack of supernatural energy whiplashed through the room and shattered
the stone above Faolum's head, and still his master allowed the rock
to pulverize Wattam's torso, leaving a sickeningly greasy stain on the
floor.

	"My lord!"  He croaked, unable to breath at the moment but
knowing that soon his body would summon enough power to regenerate.
"You have grown stronger!  Can the time of your Second Coming be upon
us?"

	"FALL SILENT, WRETCH!"  A deep, booming voice echoed as a shadow
shifted in the darkness, an oily surface mirroring the light from
outside.  "THE TIME FOR MY RELEASE WILL COME...BUT NOT YET.  I HAVE A
MISSION FOR YOU...ONE THAT WILL BE DANGEROUS BUT YOU WILL PERFORM IT,
TO THE BEST OF YOUR PALTRY ABILITIES!"  Seitak drifted to the floor,
air gasping out of his metallic armor's hydraulics, and settled on the
dais in the centre of the audience chamber, his metallic boots
crunching the gravel underfoot.  Faolum rose from the rubble, already
knowing he wasn't going to enjoy this mission...

---Palace of the Emperor---

	"Kase?"  The Emperor Maximillian parted the veils leading to his
wife's bedroom, followed closely by attendants presenting new tax
reforms or petitions.  The sounds of lovemaking filtered through and
soon he could make out the dark-haired body of his Empress pistoning
her hips against one of his concubines, grinding their vulvas together
with a splash of fluids.  "Kase!  I must speak with you!"  The whore
let out a high pitched squeal of pleasure and shuddered in her release
before noticing the Emperor and covering her firm breasts.  "You are
all dismissed.  I have need of privacy at the moment."  No other words
needed to be said as the assemblage bowed their heads in reverence;
quietly sneaking out the door under the stern gaze of Kase.  The
dark-haired Shade lifted her head lazily and tossed her sweaty mass of
hair back, gathering the tresses in a simple ponytail; she had no care
that she was currently naked and coated in her lover's mucus, nor was
she shy about the thin trails of milk dripping from her engorged
nipples.

	"What is it, Maximillian?  Do you know how long it took to
convince her to sleep with me?  You might have ruined two months of
hard work."

	"I'm sure," he replied wryly.  "I must speak to you about Prince
Ranma."  He took the liberty of removing the thong from one of the
chairs near her bed and sat, throwing a metal vibrator across the
room.  Kase watched him with a hungry stare, not a sexual look but one
which she carried over from her assassin days, one which calculated
every move he made.  The gears were turning in her head.

	"What about Ranma?  Has he done something wrong?"

	"Just the opposite...he has proven himself a worthy heir and to
that end I wish him to accompany Pseip to the annual servant revue at
Mokeib Neir."  A serious matter indeed, only those of the royal family
could choose the servants for fear that an outsider could undermine
the system and allow an assassin to infiltrate the palace.  "I wanted
your opinion of this idea, after all Pseip is your daughter as well."
Max folded his fingers, resting his elbows on the armrests with his
mouth covered.  His imperial robes fluttered in the room revealing the
soft armor underneath.

	Kase placed a finger on her lips, apparently deep in thought.
Yes, a few weeks of non-stop, earth-shattering sex was in order -
especially with Ranma's interesting equipment.  "Wouldn't a chaperone
be a good idea, just to make sure that they choose wisely?"

	"I cannot leave the palace in these times, Rwedad and Landrick
have resumed hostilities after four years of peace, I have to moderate
the negotiations."  Max was fully aware of Kase's relationship with
Ranma, how could he not be with the ceiling coming down around him
every time Kase had the 'Wild Stallion' in her bedchambers.  "You
accompany them, I trust you to choose wisely for the good of the
Empire."  He sighed as he rose, shaking the droplets of moisture from
the waterproof material of his cloak.  "Do try not to monopolize his
attentions, I would like a son at some point."

	She smiled evilly.  "Oh don't worry about that, we just have to
make sure that his friends don't try to come as well, I think that all
of us would tire the poor boy out."  Her smile grew wider as she
thought of all the possibilities.

Unfinished...