Oh, bugger.  Zen was hoping to escape this....

SKJAM! Revenge Fic Challenge

-Zens and Zensibility-

The lab was dark and quiet this time of night.  The computers 
hummed quietly to themselves, and various machines did their jobs 
with a quiet efficiency - unhindered by the meddling of their human 
tenders.  The still on table one bubbled softly as a cerulean liquid 
collected, drop by drop, in the output tank.  In another corner, a 
thick bubbling mass lifted the lid of its container and said "Querlp!"  
The only light in the building was in a small office off the main lab.

Zen sat at his terminal, chuckling over the latest batch of Revenge-
fics to drift in from the FFML.  Zen felt mildly guilty for being so 
amused - he had no doubts that the afflicted FFML'ers would not 
have appreciated that amusement - but some of the situations that 
Ranma and company in particular were creating had all but had him 
rolling on the floor.

Zen at least, was safe.  He was sure of that.  He had only posted the 
one fic, so far, and no one had suffered unduly.  True, Ranma might 
have some cause to resent his hospitalization, but from what Zen 
could see, he had *much* bigger fish to fry.  No, Zen was safe.

It never pays to tempt Fate.  Fate is not the world's best shot, but 
when sufficiently motivated, she can compensate for her lack of 
marksmanship in... interesting ways.  More to the point, she can get 
clever and hire someone to do her shooting for her.

Zen instinctively dove for cover under his desk as the door to his 
office blew inwards.  Before the charred remains of the door and half 
the frame had hit the floor, two figures had charged into the room, 
blasters waving.  Almost instantly, the intruders located Zen 
cowering under his desk, and both muzzles moved to cover him.

"Freeze!  3WA!" shouted the taller of the two, a statuesque red-head 
clad in a trademarked 3WA combat 2-piece.  Her brown eyes flashed 
angrily as her finger tightened ever so slightly on the trigger of her 
portable cannon.

Satisfied that there was no one else about, and that her partner had 
Zen covered, the other agent brushed her long, dark hair out of her 
face and took charge.  "All right, you.  Come out... *slowly*... and don't 
even *think* about trying anything!"

"Eep" said Zen.  With exaggerated caution, he crawled out from under 
his desk.  Timidly he stood up and turned to face his attackers.  
Slowly, he reached behind him toward the keyboard of his computer.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," chirped the brunette.  Zen froze for 
a moment, and slowly raised his hands.  "Much better..."

"Ahhhmmm..." Zen said intelligently.  "Why are you here?" he 
managed, fearing even as he asked, that he knew the answer.  Scott 
Jamison was gonna have a *lot* to answer for.

"So you know who we are, then.  Good.  That'll make this easier." said 
the red-head.

Zen nodded.  "Oh yes, Zen knows you - Kei and Yuri.  Not likely to 
forget the Dir... ah... Lovely Angels" Zen amended hastily as he 
realized his near slip.

A plasma bolt struck Zen's secondary monitor, blowing it to bits.  
"Watch your mouth," Yuri growled.

"That your truck outside?" asked Kei, her voice sharp.

The question caught Zen off guard.  Truck?  Zen had figured that this 
was related to that revenge fic thingy on the FFML.  He said as much.

Yuri grinned.  "Two birds, Zen.  One pair of trouble consultants.  
Answer the question.  Is the truck outside yours?"

"Yes... but why..."

"The one with the 3WA markings on it?"

"Oh.  "Uhmm... look.  That can be easily explained..." Zen started to 
say.

"Cut the chatter.  Do you know what the penalties are for 
impersonating a Trouble Consultant for the 3WA?"  Kei's grin was 
making Zen acutely uncomfortable.

"The truck was just a gag, honest!" said Zen.  Neither girl appeared to 
be laughing.  Zen slumped into his chair.  "So.  What are prisons like 
where you come from?"

"Prison?  Bwaaaa ha ha ha ha!  You should have it so easy!  Oh, no, 
Mr. Zen.  We have far worse in mind for you."  Kei sniggered as she 
reholstered her blaster.

Zen paled.  Worse?  "What are you gonna do?" he stammered.

"Draft you."

"Anou... *What* did you say?  You are going to *draft* Zen?!?"

"Well, normally, that truck of yours would get you ten to twenty on a 
penal asteroid, but you... you committed fanfics as well."

"That was a Ranma fic!  It had nothing to do with you!"

"Zen, Zen, Zen..." Kei shook her head sadly.  "Haven't you been paying 
attention?  The one that you *posted* is a Ranma fic, but what about 
this directory on your hard drive?  Is *this* one a Ranma fic?"

Guiltily Zen looked at the file Kei was indicating.  "Ah..." he managed.  
"But how... how did you know about that?"

"Zen, we're the 3WA.  We know *everything* about you."

The color drained from Zen's face.  "Everything?"

"Everything.  You had quite the checkered career at university, didn't 
you?  Did the police ever find out who launched..."

"That wasn't Zen's fault!  The first two worked perfectly!"

"Keep practicing that line - you'll be using it a lot."

"This is a joke, right?  You can't really mean that you are planning to 
draft...  What if Zen refuses?"

"You'd rather we told Akane about that fic you're writing where 
Ukyou gets Ranma?"

"You wouldn't..."

"Oh, yes we would.  Or maybe we'll tell Ukyou about that fic where 
*Akane* gets Ranma.  She's gonna *love* the way that one ends..."

"And then there's what you did to poor Nabiki... for shame!"  Kei 
tsked.

"And there is NO WAY that I'd *ever* go out with *that man*!" added 
Yuri.

"But... you can't be serious!  Join the 3WA?  But Zen has no training!  
Besides, Zen'd never pass the physical!"

"Oh, don't worry about that.  We'll see to your training *personally*.  
As for the physical, you'll pass, alright."

Yuri brought out a bucket.  It appeared to be filled with water.  Zen 
looked at the pail, a sudden dread growing in the pit of his stomach.  
"What are you going to do with that?" he asked fearfully.

"This? Oh, this is a little present for you.  From Ranma."

"Ranma?" Zen stammered.

"Yep!  He wanted us to let you know that he doesn't much like 
hospitals.  He'd have come to tell you himself, but as you've already 
guessed, he's been dreadfully busy.  And, since we were headed here 
anyway, he asked us to deliver this!"

Yuri sloshed the contents of the bucket over the hapless nerd.  Zen 
twitched as he felt himself change - his height reducing slightly, his 
weight reducing substantially, and his distribution of mass altering 
even more radically.

Numbly, Zen looked down at her new figure.  Hastily, she grabbed at 
her trousers... her belt was gonna need a LOT more holes in it now.  
There seemed to be an awful lot of this going around on the FFML 
lately.

"Why..." Zen started to ask.

Kei smirked.  "Ranma seemed to think it would be a fitting revenge."

"Not very creative, is he?" Zen muttered darkly.

"Besides," Yuri chimed in.  "You should be grateful.  You'd look 
damned silly in this without it."  She tossed a wad of fabric into Zen's 
lap.  It was a *small* wad.  Zen recognized it as a standard issue 3WA 
combat bikini.  She shuddered.

"You have ten minutes to get packed."

<>


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