Zens and Portents
Part One

A Trouble Consultant has to be able to think on her feet.  That sounds 
obvious, but it is not always as clear as one might expect.  The phrase 
"by the book" has very little meaning in real world situations, so in 
the field, a TC has to be able to improvise.

For this reason, 3WA training simulations were designed to cover 
every contingency their creators could envision - no matter how 
urbane, or insane.  From burglaries and corporate corruption to 
terrorism and counter insurgence, from 'accident' investigations or 
planetary catastrophes to renegade scientists or the just plain weird.  
Think "X" files on steroids.

Among these were situations where, for whatever reason, some stiff 
necked bureaucrat or administrator would decide to flex a little 
muscle by harassing the TC assigned to their case.  The simulations 
that had been developed to deal with these occurrences were among 
the most brutal and exhaustive on Academy.  They were certainly 
among the most frustrating.

Right now, Zen was deep in one of *those* sims.

***^_^***

The fellow behind the desk was a toad of a man - bug eyes peered 
out of a pasty face through the thick spectacles perched on his long, 
beaklike nose.  Mousy brown hair was slicked back as if to highlight 
just how much ground it had lost, and he looked as if the only 
exercise that he ever got was in walking from his desk to the 
turbolift that stopped off at his quarters.

Zen had known that she was going to be in trouble from the way he 
had shaken her hand - his grip was weak, and his skin was clammy 
and soft.  He'd probably never had to do a day's *real* work in his 
life.  Zen had resisted the urge to wipe her hand off afterwards, but 
just barely.  On her bureaucrat scale, Zen rated him at about a P6.  
That was, a Petty, Paranoid and Piously Pretentious Paper-Pusher.  
She definitely did *not* like the way he was leering at her.

It was a time like this when Zen fervently wished she had been 
assigned a pet like Mughi - Zen knew for a fact that Kei and Yuri had 
on many occasions benefited from their feline friend's fearsome 
appearance.  While Zen had not been assigned a *real* pet yet, within 
the sim environments she had been paired with a Miyazakian fox-
squirrel.  It was smart and fast - but it was *far* too cute to have 
any intimidation value.

With a sigh, Zen repeated her request for information.  "Zen'll need to 
see the ship's manifests... cargo, supercargo, the lot."

"I'm sorry," the man informed her, his hands folded over his ample 
stomach, "but I can't just give out that information.  I'll first need to 
see proof that you've filled out all the proper forms."

"Forms?  What forms?  This is a 3WA investigation.  Zen has already 
been granted all the necessary clearances."

The man was scandalised.  "But you *must* follow the Procedure!  
The Procedure is sacrosanct!"

Zen leaned over the desk, and tried to look menacing.  Not so easy a 
task in a battle bikini, but she managed it.  "Look here, bozo..."

"Bozeman"

"Whatever.  You're the fifth person that Zen has been sent to since 
docking, and Zen is getting *tired* of the run-around.  Zen has a job 
to do, and you're *not* helping!"

"Well, they really should have sent you to..."

"Look, who's the Records Officer on this garbage scow?"

"Garbage scow?  I'll have you know that the 'Astral Queen' is the 
finest ship in the entire...!"

Zen hauled the desk-jockey up by his lapels, one handed.  "WHO is 
the bloody RECORDS officer?" she barked.

"I am!" he squeaked.

Dropping him back into his chair Zen growled, "Then *you're* the one 
that Zen needs to see."

"But there's really nothing I can do until you've filled out and filed a 
form three thirty seven stroke jay, and a form zed zed nine..."

Zen added 'Pedantic' and 'Pompous' to her mental list of adjectives, 
and ramped his rating up to a P8.  She decided that she would start 
shooting when he hit a P10.  "A form three thirty seven stroke jay?"

"Requisition for Ship's Records by Investigating Officer in the Event 
of Attack, Hijacking or Collision," the man nodded.  "And the..."

"You have a FORM for that?"  Zen was incredulous.

Bozeman's tone was condescending.  "Of course!  If there weren't a 
form for it, it couldn't happen!  Look, it's obvious that you've never 
had to deal with these procedures before..."

Now Zen was getting irritated.  Just because she was a relatively new 
TC, and just because she had a body that wasn't a day over eighteen, 
did not mean that she didn't know her job... and this sort of nonsense 
was starting to really piss her off.

"Fine," she snarled at the man.  "You don't think Zen can handle the 
job, then Zen understands.  Zen will be more than *happy* to call in 
her supervisory team."  Turning away and tapping her commlink, Zen 
said, "Teto... Put a patch through to the 'Lovely Angel', will you?"

There was a strangled sound from the man behind the desk... "Chotto!  
Matte!"

Zen looked at him out of the corner of her eye... he was white as a 
sheet.  "Belay that, Teto... stand by..."

As she turned once more to the now quivering mass in front of her, 
Zen's voice simply dripped sugar.  "You had something that you 
wanted to say?"

"You... your... your superteam is the Dirty Pa..."

"Ah ah..." Zen waggled a warning finger in front of his face.  "They 
*really* don't like that name."

Bozeman appeared to be on the verge of collapse.  "Okay!  Anything 
you say!  I'll do whatever you ask, just... just *please* don't call 
*them*..."

"Are you sure?  They could be here in just a few hours..."

"YES!"  the man sobbed.  "I'm sure!  I'll do anything!"

Zen stared at the man for a moment before turning back to her 
commlink.  "Stand down, Teto - Zen'll check back with you later."  
After waiting for her pet's acknowledging chirp, she flashed the 
cowering bureaucrat her friendliest smile.  "Now," she said sweetly, 
"Whatsay you open those files for Zen?"

"Yes Ma'am!  Please!  Just follow me!  Right this way!"

Zen winced at his use of the term 'ma'am', but accompanied the man 
into the ship's computer room.  With an exasperated sigh, Zen turned 
to her escort and said, "You were born on Trantor, weren't you?"

He seemed startled.  "Why... yes.  How in Ghu's name did you know 
that?"

Zen blinked and shook her head.  It figured.  "Just a hunch," she said.  
"Just a hunch..."

*** O_O ***

Later that evening, Zen sat in the Draco Tavern nursing a tall glass of 
Kanar.  The spicy wine was definitely an acquired taste, but Zen liked 
it.  Kei and Yuri were *not* going to be very amused when they read 
the sim-logs on this one, she thought to herself.  She almost felt sorry 
for the programmer.

"So!  How did the sim today go, then?"

Zen jumped a bit, praying that she hadn't been thinking aloud.  She 
slid over, making room for Kei and Yuri to join her in the booth.  "Not 
too badly," Zen admitted.  "It wasn't as difficult as expected."

"'Not too badly' she says."  Yuri giggled.  "Zen-chan, you broke the 
Academy record for getting through that sim by over four hours!  
AND you did it without shooting anyone!  Don't be modest!  Tell us 
how you did it!"

Four hours? Zen thought to herself.  No, the Angels were *definitely* 
not going to be amused.  "Really, Zen has no idea!"  She scratched the 
back of her head nervously.

Zen was spared the necessity of further excuses by the timely arrival 
of the waitress.  Kei ordered a glass of Tranya, and told her to bring 
the bottle, while Yuri asked for a Raktajeno.  Zen opted for an order 
of opal-fruit that they could share.

After the waitress had gone, Yuri leaned over to Zen.  "What's an 
opal-fruit?" she asked.

"Are you familiar with a Terran pear?" Zen asked.  Yuri shook her 
head in the negative.  After a moment's thought, Zen said, "It's kinda 
like a griffit, only not as sweet.  They're also a lot more colourful."

"Ahh," Yuri nodded her understanding.  "Sounds good."

"There's something that I've been meaning to ask you, Zen..." Kei 
broke in.

"Oh?  What's that?"

"Just what," she asked as she tossed a fat dossier onto the table, "do 
you know about *this*?"

Zen looked down at the folder and paled.  The cover on the file, and it 
was a *thick* one, read: "Security Risk Assessment: Anime Liberation 
Front".  Zen picked up the file and started thumbing through it.  She 
was appalled.  There were names, ident codes, locations, all manner 
of information.  There was even a membership roster, along with a 
small dossier on each entry.

Zen read on, a feeling of dread building up in her stomach with each 
entry in the file.  This was what all that encoded message traffic had 
been about on the FFML.  From the looks of things, it was no longer a 
game.  The authors and the animates were at war.  This could get 
very ugly, very quickly.

"Well?" prompted Kei.

Shaken, Zen dropped the folder back onto the tabletop.  Shaking her 
head, Zen sighed and mumbled.  "Not much."  She indicated the folder 
on the table.  "Certainly not as much as you do."

Yuri's tone was a little gentler.  "Would you tell us if you did?"

Zen had to smile at that.  "No.  Zen very much doubts it."

"So.  Here's the real question.  Why didn't you join?"

The question was not the one that Zen had been expecting.  "Wha... 
what makes you so sure that Zen didn't?" she stammered.

"Haven't we been through this before?  We're 3WA, Zen.  While our 
information isn't totally complete, we *are* fairly sure that we know 
who all is involved in this, and your name is NOT on the list.  Central 
Computer agrees."

Yuri chimed in.  "We know better than to think that you're a pacifist, 
so why aren't you fighting back?"

Zen shook her head.  "You're right.  Zen is no pacifist."  A hard look 
passed through Zen's grey/blue eyes - as if they were focused on 
something very far away - or perhaps on another time all together.  
It lasted only an instant; then it was gone.  Zen looked back toward 
her Sempai and tried to find words.

"It's kind of a long story..."

"We have the whole evening, Zen-chan."

"Okay, you asked for it.  You see, when Zen was growing up, it never 
occurred to him to think that animates were real - certainly not in 
the same sense that Zen was real.  Merely the creations of a few very 
talented people, they were two dimensional; not so much characters 
as caricatures.  They had no life beyond what little their creators had 
given them.

"Most of them were pretty stupid, truth be told.  Animated or not, 
most shows had really insipid stories and little or no character 
development.  But amongst the dross, there were usually a few gems.  
A small number of entertainments had, of all things, plots!  There 
were characters that had depth!  Not always a lot, but it was enough 
to make you interested in what was going to happen next - enough to 
make you care about them."

Zen paused for another sip of her drink, and a sad look crossed her 
face.  "After a time, you'd get really attached to the characters - 
really think of them as friends.  Friends that you had never met, but 
friends nonetheless.  That was when some yahoo would decide that a 
show wasn't getting the ratings that it ought to, or that it was time 
for something new.  Sometimes it was no more than those who were 
writing it getting tired of the worlds and the people that they had 
created.  Whatever the excuse, the good shows would be canceled, 
and, for all practical purposes, the characters in those shows would 
cease to exist."

The waitress came by the table to deliver Kei and Yuri's drinks, and 
set a tray of diced opal-fruit on the table in front of Zen, along with a  
set of skewers.  Yuri picked up one of the rods and speared a piece of 
fruit.  Sipping on her drink, Kei nodded at Zen to continue.

"Then Zen discovered fan fiction.  The characters that Zen had grown 
up with, new ones that he just met... they all came alive again.  There 
were new adventures - new stories.  The shows that gave them birth 
might not be around any more, but the characters were.  It was like 
getting together with someone that you hadn't seen for a long time.  
While a character might 'die' in a given story, that character would 
live forever, as long as someone cared enough to write another one.

"When Zen started actually writing fan fiction, another truism was 
discovered.  Characters took on lives of their own - they started to 
become real to Zen.  A different real than Zen, but real none-the-less.  
They had wills of their own, after a fashion, and they wrote as much 
of the story as Zen did.  Zen may have come up with the plot, but the 
characters made it come alive.

"Other writers saw each of the characters in different lights.  No one 
viewpoint was really universal.  For some writers, it was a hard idea 
to accept, but it made a lot of sense, really.  Just as it was with 'real' 
people, it was impossible to know *everything* about a character.  
Within a certain range, just about any interpretation could be valid.  
What one writer might see as nobility and strength, another might 
see as cowardice and fear.  Yet it was possible for both to be right.  If 
anything, it made the characters even *more* 'real'."

Zen picked up a skewer and stabbed a piece of fruit.  With a grin she 
noted that Yuri had already made a good dent in the tray's contents.  
After passing another of the skewers to Kei, Zen ate her fruit and 
continued.

"When the revenges started, Zen realised the *true* nature of their 
reality.  It wasn't that their reality - YOUR reality was a *different* 
reality - it was just a different point of view on Zen's OWN reality.  
It's like having blinders taken off - to realise that your vision has 
been so limited and suddenly discover how large and wonderful a 
universe it really is."

A look of surprise crossed Yuri's face.  "Wonderful?  But... don't you 
*resent* being cursed?  You're not making much sense."

"Of *course* Zen resented being cursed.  Who wouldn't?  If you'll 
recall, Zen sulked pretty hard over the whole thing for the first few 
weeks here."

"But you're not sulking over it now," said Kei around a mouthful of 
opal-fruit.  "In fact, it looks like you're becoming a darned good TC.  I 
have to admit, I wasn't expecting that."

"Thanks."  Zen shrugged.  "Zen resented getting spanked as a child, 
too.  That did not mean that Zen didn't deserve it from time to time.  
Deserved or not though, Zen learned to get over it and get on with 
other things.  It takes a lot of energy to stay sullen, and frankly, it's 
just not a lot of fun."

"So you admit that you deserve your curse?"

"That wasn't what Zen said.  Even so, what difference would it make?  
There's nothing that Zen can do about it now."  Zen sipped her drink.  
"Each writer's curses come from their own interpretations of reality.  
In the worlds that Zen writes, Jyusenkyou curses have no cures.  It 
also explains why this body looks like onna Ranma's... Zen was a 
subscriber to the 'specific template' school of thought."

"Ahh," said Yuri.  "But what were you saying about realities?  Isn't it 
what you write that *shapes* the reality?"

"Up to a point, yes.  That was why Zen started to really consider the 
possible consequences of writing a story where a character died.  If 
the characters were real, then that death would be real too, wouldn't 
it?  Zen understands now that the deaths in those stories are not 
literal - as long as they are no more than part of a story.

"But the pain, the angst, they all become real in some fashion.  Even 
as nothing more than a nightmare they *are* felt.  While Zen likes to 
think that most of his stories would make for more pleasant sorts of 
dreams, some of them would be particularly brutal nightmares.  For 
that reason, Zen can find no cause to be angry about his 'punishment' 
- it is, after all, no worse than he has done to others in his stories.

"Zen has found that he can only write stories about people that he 
cares about.  If he can't understand them - if there is no sympathy 
there - then Zen cannot write them.  For Zen to seek revenge against 
Team Ranma, or against you would be silly."

Zen spread her arms in a gesture of resignation.  "If Zen were to try 
and get 'revenge' - it would mean attacking people that Zen *likes*.  
Zen cannot do that.  Zen will *not* attack friends."

There was a moment of silence at the table as Kei and Yuri thought 
over the contents of Zen's soliloquy.  While Zen made a point of 
examining the tabletop, a wordless discussion took place between the 
Angels.  It ended with a smile.

Kei reached out and put a hand on her troubled protÈgÈ's shoulder.  
"Thanks, Zen," she said.  "We like you too."

Zen poked at the file with her skewer.  "But what about this?  If this 
information is accurate, then people are going to get hurt - on both 
sides.  This whole conflict is escalating beyond reason."  Zen looked 
back down at the file as something else occurred to her.  Dreading 
the answer, she asked, "Just why was this data compiled?  What *is* 
the 3WA's policy on this matter going to be?"

"At present, there is no policy on the ALF.  The information in this 
file was gathered simply as a matter of course.  It's a normal part of 
3WA operations to keep up with everything that's going on."

"The 3WA's position at this point is merely one of academic interest," 
Kei agreed.  "Besides, no one's paid us to get involved yet."

"Ite!"  The others were right, Zen thought.  Face faulting *hurt*.

"Seriously, Zen... we got the only author we were really interested in.  
Well, there was Gaffney, of course, but he's just got a few paranoid 
fantasies about 3WA.  The CC decided that nailing him for that little 
slander was only likely to drive him into a full-blown paranoid 
psychosis.  We're letting the Tomobiki crowd have him."

Zen nodded.  "That's good.  He should be fairly safe, then.  There are 
only a few of them, like that buffoon Mendou, that he really doesn't 
get along with.  Zen knows, at least, that he has the utmost respect 
for the two of you."

"You sound relieved, Zen-chan," Kei said.

"Well, he *is* a friend, after all.  And Zen doubts that he would be 
involved in the ALF either.  He usually likes to keep a lower profile 
than that."

"You're right there.  His name isn't in this file anyway."

"It's odd, Zen," Yuri continued.  "Most of the authors that you were 
known to associate with don't seem to be in that file.  Why do you 
suppose that is?"

Zen shrugged.  "Dunno.  Plenty of the writers Zen knows *are* in that 
file as well.  Zen has dealt with most of them at one time or another."

"Frankly, we're more interested in the ones that aren't involved with 
the ALF.  What can you tell us about them?"

"Why do you want to know?" asked Zen nervously.  "Zen doubts that 
any of them constitute any sort of a threat.  They just want to be left 
alone."

"Hey, relax, Zen-chan.  It's okay!  We're your friends too, remember?"  
Yuri smiled.  "We're not going to do anything that would jeopardize 
your friends.  After all, we're as worried as you are."

Staring into Yuri's eyes, Zen could see nothing but sincere concern.  
Kei too, was wearing a sad smile that said she understood.  Taking a 
deep breath, Zen decided that they were right.  They *were* friends, 
and they deserved Zen's trust.  Zen sighed and hung her head.  "Zen is 
sorry.  All of this... comes as a bit of a surprise."

"I imagine it does.  Do you think any of the others know about it?"

Zen shook her head.  "Who knows?  It simply wasn't a topic that ever 
came up.  Zen doesn't run from a fight when it's necessary, but Zen 
tries not to go *looking* for trouble either.  Trouble finds Zen entirely 
too easily and too often without any help.  Besides, none of the things 
that have been done to Zen's friends have been fatal."

"Oh no?  What about Quixote-san?"

"Oh, you mean Lawson?"  Zen smiled.  "Richard's still alive."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He's still writing stories, and Zen doubts that anyone could write a 
sappy, warm-fuzzy ending in quite the same way.  It's him all right.  
Zen is, though, willing to bet that he doesn't eat cookies anymore."

Kei smirked.  Zen gestured back at the folder on the table.  "He's also 
damned lucky that Ranma is tied up fighting the ALF, because when 
Ranma *does* get around to reading Richard's latest lemons... well, 
it'd be safe to say that Ranma will be 'less than pleased'."

"An understatement too, I'll wager.  What about that crazy one?" Kei 
asked.  "The one who holed up in some bunker with his harem?"

"Fester-san.  Heh.  Zen imagines that he's *still* holed up with the 
Foxes... Zen hasn't tried to visit lately 'cause the ol' boy was getting a 
little trigger happy.  He was blasting away at anything that moved.  
Including Zen.  Well, *this* body anyway."

With a chuckle, Kei said, "After reading the last stories he wrote, I 
can't say that I'm surprised."

"Actually," Zen said, "The more recent stories haven't been so bad.  
Unless you happen to be Nabiki.  Still, if you wanted to, you could get 
a whole platoon into his bunker as long as they drove up in a Foster's 
truck."

"The one that *I* really want to know about is 'Nightelf'," said Yuri.  
"He's dropped out of sight completely.  Even Central Computer has no 
data on what happened to him."

Zen smiled a little sadly and shook her head.  "You needn't worry too 
much about the Nightelf.  You won't be seeing Nicola's name on that 
list.  Of that, Zen is confident."

"You sound like you're awfully certain of that..."  Kei paused and did 
a doubletake.  "Waitaminnit... did you say 'Nicola'?"

Zen tossed back the last of her kanar and waved toward the waitress 
for a replacement.  "Yes."

"Nyannichuan again?"

"Among other things.  The revenges hit Nicola rather hard.  She'll be 
all right in the end, but it is going to be difficult for her."

"If she was hit so hard, why are you so sure that she isn't going to 
fight?"

"Nightelf is an empath.  She feels every bit of pain her characters do.  
It's a part of why her stories are so compelling.  She also has a strong 
sense of honour.  Hell, she didn't even get mad about being revenged 
until Ranma tagged a couple of innocents in the process.  She'll have 
settled that little score by now."

"She was helping the others for a while.  Then she just disappeared."

"She had her reasons.  There are prices that she'll pay, and prices 
that she won't.  Either way, she'll do nothing to harm an innocent."

Yuri nodded.  "That's pretty much what I had hoped to hear.  I hope 
she will pull through."

Zen was taking a fresh glass of kanar from the waitress as she 
replied, "Nicola will survive all right.  She's a strong one.  One of the 
strongest that Zen knows."

"And you?" Kei asked.  "Will you 'survive' as well?"

Zen laughed.  "Oh yes.  Zen will survive."  She took a sip of her drink, 
and a touch of bitterness crept into her tone.  "Zen always survives.  
Zen is indestructible."



******************************

Zen had been right.  When the Angels had read the logs from the 
simulator session that day, there had been a hell of a row over in 
Central Programming.  Ever since then, Zen's courseload had doubled.  
Twice the time was being spent on just about everything, leaving Zen 
with nothing in the way of personal time.  Even the weekends were 
used to take up the coursetime that could not be crammed into a 
weekday.

Zen was fortunate that she required little sleep.  That didn't mean 
that she didn't *miss* it... there were times when Zen really enjoyed 
sleeping.  There were also times, those times where stresses were 
running high, that sleep, and the dreams that came with it, was pure 
torture.  It was ironic that the events that deprived Zen of sleep and 
made her long for it, also made it a good thing that she wasn't getting 
it.  Spider Robinson had said it best, Zen reflected.  God is an iron.

Zen had no idea what the Angels had done when they'd had their 
little "chat" with the simulator programmer, but for the past month, 
the programmers had certainly seemed to be willing to take out their 
frustrations on the Angels' pupil.  Zen was growing weary of it.  Of 
course, when the Pair was confronted with this 'coincidence', the 
reaction was predictable.  "It's NOT our fault!" they had snarled.

The Pair did manage to drag Zen out to the Draco Tavern once a week 
- and the conversations that they shared over drinks and food were 
a wonderful way to wind down after the weeks' activities.  Still, Zen 
got the feeling that something was building.  Something ugly.  She 
just had no idea what it was.

******************************

Twelve weeks later, the news hit Academy with the force of a photon 
torpedo.

Zen had just come in from another sim class from hell, and was still 
in uniform.  The damned bikinis were surprisingly comfortable, an 
observation that disturbed Zen more than a little.

Collapsing wearily into the chair in front of her desk, she logged into 
her terminal.  The announcement was there - and the news that 
followed.

A new force had entered the author/animate war.  Zen had no idea 
what a "pfhor" was, but they were obviously a threat to author and 
animate alike.  Zen scrolled through a casualty list - something that 
she'd never expected to see - let alone with animate names on it.  
Ranma.  Akane.  Shampoo.  Mousse.  Kunou.  Linna.  Sylia.  All gone.  
Team Ranma and the Knight Sabers had both been decimated.

Zen stared at the monitor in shock.  Authors and Animates were no 
longer fighting amongst themselves - a truce had been called, but at 
what price?  What had begun as a game of sorts had turned into a 
deadly serious fight for survival.  There was no one laughing now.  
Evidence suggested that some single entity was controlling these new 
attackers - that there was a lone intelligence at the heart of the 
madness, but anything more than that was mere speculation.

Zen shook her head in dismay.  Old patterns were being re-woven.  
People that Zen had come to think of as friends were dying.  Again.  
This was more than she could stand.  She could not - *would* not 
stand by and watch as history repeated itself.

Events a decade old replayed in Zen's mind with perfect clarity.  It 
had been a time of death, and of loss.  Everyone that mattered to Zen, 
everyone that Zen trusted, everyone that Zen had cared for had died 
- brutally and inexorably.  There had been nothing that Zen could do.  
The frustration and the pain still haunted Zen's dreams - still tore at 
her soul, even after the passage of years.

Now, it was happening again - but this time, there was a difference.  
Zen could, at least in some small way, fight back.  She was *not* going 
to take that chance lightly.

Having come to her decision, Zen opened a channel, and rang up Kei 
and Yuri.  When she saw their expressions, it was obvious that they 
too had read the bulletins.

"You know."  It was not a question.

The pair on the other side of the connection nodded.

Zen sighed.  "Then you know what Zen has to do."  They nodded 
again.  "Zen is really going to miss you two..."

"Bet you aren't," said Yuri.

Kei smiled grimly.  "You aren't getting away from us that easily, Zen-
chan."  She emphasized the '-chan' as she always did, knowing that it 
irked the author.  But Kei was not interested in baiting her trainee at 
present.  "We're going too.  It's as much our fight - they are... were... 
our friends as well."

Zen nodded.  Well she knew *that* feeling.

"Besides," Yuri chirped.  "We have to look after you...  You're the first 
trainee that we've been assigned that's survived basic.  We'd hate to 
blow that now..."

Zen grinned, a warm sensation spreading through her.

"You wanna ride?" Kei asked.

"Thanks, but no... Zen will take the 'Pathfinder'.  Another ship can't 
hurt.  See you in the hangar?"

Kei nodded.  "Two hours.  We'll meet you there in two hours."

After breaking the connection, Zen logged into the net again.  
Withdrawing the isolinear chip that contained the bulk of her library, 
she inserted it into the console, and set the security parameters to 
make use of the passcodes and ident signatures on the chip.  Setting 
for maximum scramble, she composed a brief message.

Addressing it to Wyrm, and to Frosty Usa, she gave an estimated 
departure time, and requested clearance for her ship, and for the 
Lovely Angel.  After receiving corroborative clearances from both 
Leela and Durandal, as well as rendezvous coordinates, Zen shut 
down the terminal and started to pack her meager belongings.

One advantage that Zen had found to a high tech culture like that of 
the Federation, or the United Galactica - she could travel light.  
Everything that Zen considered valuable could be stored on isolinear 
chips.  Whether as raw data, or as replicator patterns, it certainly 
made it easier to carry her stuff.  After securing her own libraries, 
she linked once more into the Central Computer, and browsed the 
libraries for patterns... tools, equipment, weapons - anything that 
might be even remotely useful.  After dumping her selections to 
more chips, she shut down the terminal for the last time.

Pausing in the doorway, Zen took one last look at the room that had 
been her home for the past year.  Truth be told, she would miss this 
place.  Some day, she would be back.  She had to believe that.  This 
was one war that they could not afford to lose.  If they did, then all 
of this would be gone too.  With a sigh, she turned away from the 
comfort of home, and toward her destiny.

******************************

Zen stood in the cavernous hangar, staring up at the gleaming blue-
white hull of her ship.  Her ship.  She was a dream come true - or 
would have been if things were different.  The name stenciled on her 
bow said it all.  'Pathfinder'.

She was unique - Zen's own design, a fusion of various elements that 
she had discovered in the libraries on Academy.  In the same way 
that the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic had each crafted their own 
lightsabers, so a 3WA Trouble Consultant was expected to take an 
active part in the design of her own ship.  The reasoning for that was 
threefold.

First, it was a final exam of sorts - a good ship was a passing mark.  
Second, the ship was to be the agent's home for a good part of her 
career.  The boys in psych had determined that giving a TC design 
input took a lot of the stress out of long stretches aboard ship.  The 
third reason was the "Q" factor.  Since the days of MI5, it had been 
known that agents were more likely to take proper care of a thing if 
they'd had a part in its creation.  If nothing else, the familiarity they 
had with it made repairs in the field a lot easier.

'Pathfinder' was a compact cruiser.  She was 42 metres, wingtip to 
wingtip, and 70 metres long.  Her hull was sleek and smooth, and 
glowed an iridescent white under the lights of the hangar.  Twin 
matter/anti-matter reactors in tightly slung nacelles provided ample 
power for drive, life support and weapons.  She was designed for 
four people - a TC team, and two supercargo, though when the 
situation called for it, she could carry up to two dozen in relative 
comfort.  If only she had been available years ago.

But she was here now, nestled under the portside hull of the "Lovely 
Angel".  Though the designs of the two vessels differed radically, 
they still gave the distinct impression of being 'mother' and 
'daughter'.

For the present, Zen was the sole occupant.  The ship had been easy 
enough to build, but as yet, there was no one to be her partner.  Few 
people *wanted* to partner with someone who was affiliated with 
the Angels.  Zen didn't care.  Zen would not have wanted to train 
under anyone else.

Once you got past their abrasive exteriors, Kei and Yuri were nice 
people.  They were hard to get close to for reasons that Zen well 
understood.  TC's tended to lose people.  It was not a safe life, and to 
have too many attachments was the sure path to madness.

Over the course of their time together, Zen had developed a healthy 
respect for the pair, as well as a genuine affection.  When push came 
to shove, they were loyal friends - a rare enough commodity in any 
universe.

A shout broke Zen out of her reverie.  She turned to see Kei, Yuri and 
Mughi approaching.  Shouldering her duffel, Zen moved to greet her 
friends.

"Ready to go Zen?" asked Kei as the trio closed the gap between them.

Zen nodded.  "Hai.  Everything's set.  Zen has arranged for clearance 
into FRED for both the 'Pathfinder' and the 'Lovely Angel'."  She 
passed a chip to Yuri.  "Here are the coordinates for the jumpgate, as 
well as the passcodes and transponder settings to get past security."

Yuri took the chip and tucked it into a pouch on her belt.  "Thanks.  
I've got one for you now, too."  So saying, she passed a chip to Zen.

"What's this?"

"Your diploma.  Congratulations, Zen-chan.  You made it."  Zen stared 
at Yuri, slack-jawed.

Kei laughed.  "What's the matter, Zen?  Cat got your tongue?"

"But..." Zen stammered, "Zen had *months* to go..."

Yuri's expression turned serious.  "Didn't you wonder why you were 
being given such a heavy courseload over the past twelve weeks?  
All the extra simulator time that you've had to run through?  It 
seems that Central Computer was expecting something to happen, 
and it wanted you to be ready for it."

"The CC was *expecting* this?" Zen squeaked.

"No.  Not this.  But something."

"Damn machine never tells anyone anything, does it?"  Zen stared at 
the chip in her hand for a moment.  Finally, she looked back up at 
Yuri and smiled.  "Thank you.  Both of you."  She heard an indignant 
growf, and reached over to scratch the offended party behind the 
ears.  "Zen is sorry, Mughi.  Thank you too."

"Yah yah, time's wastin'," said Kei with a grin.  Her expression turned 
somber.  "Seriously, we'd better get moving.  Even with the time 
differential that you described, we can't afford too much of a delay."

"Right!"  Yuri turned and headed toward the Angel's boarding lift, 
Mughi following close behind.  Zen started to turn toward her own 
ship's boarding ramp when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Mind a little company?" asked Kei.

Turning toward the Angel, Zen saw that the lift was already halfway 
to the hull.  Yuri and Mughi were waving back at them.  "You sure 
about this?"  Zen couldn't actually see Kei nodding, but she knew that 
she had.  "Then welcome aboard."  Together the two red headed TC's 
headed for the flight deck of the Pathfinder.

**** O_O ****

Pre-flights and launch had gone smoothly.  Pathfinder had arrowed 
out of the hangar with the Lovely Angel hot in her wake.  Now half 
an hour into what would be about an eighteen hour flight, there was 
little to do but wait.  Zen busied herself with the controls - fiddling 
with this setting or that, trying her best to look busy.  Finally, Kei got 
tired of the silence.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"You're angry.  Why?"

"Angry?  No... Zen is not angry."

"Don't lie to me, Zen.  I'm not stupid.  More to the point, I'm your 
friend.  I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."

"You don't know?  Zen thought that the 3WA was supposed to know 
everything about Zen... remember?"

"Hey!  That's not fair."

Zen heaved a sigh and hung her head.  "You're right.  It's not.  Zen is... 
*I* am sorry."

"You're thinking of the past again, aren't you?  Of Lee, and Kelly - the 
others."

"Is it *that* obvious?"

"Given what's going on, it wasn't a hard guess."

"No.  I suppose not."  Zen stared sightlessly at one of her monitors for 
a long moment.

"Zen...  It was ten *years* ago."

"I know.  But it still feels like it was yesterday.  I thought that I had 
finally put all of it behind me.  That leaving Earth was going to give 
me a new start.  I've made new friends."  Zen glanced meaningfully 
at Kei.  "But I remember.  And now it's happening all over again."

Kei sat quietly for a moment.  What was there to say?  She knew 
what Zen was feeling - she had lost more than her own fair share of 
friends.  Granted, she had never lost a mate, but the principle was 
the same.  Still, it sounded like Zen was blaming herself, and that was 
not healthy.  "You make it sound as if you think that it's your fault."

"Eh?"  Zen paused to consider.  "I guess maybe I do."  Zen waved 
aside Kei's unspoken protests.  "I know, I know... it *isn't* my fault.  I 
understand that intellectually.  But in the wee small hours of the 
mornings, when everything is dark and silent, that knowledge does 
little to explain why, of all the people that I've known, *I* was the 
one to survive.  It does nothing to quiet the voice that asks what 
right I had to live when the others died."

"They call that 'survivor's guilt'," said Kei.

"Zen knows that.  That doesn't make the question less valid.  It's 
something that I've learned to live with.  But I am NOT going to sit 
back and watch it happen again."

"So, you're mad... mad at this unknown attacker, or mad at yourself 
for not being there to get slaughtered?  Or are you still mad at 
yourself for being alive?"

Zen shrugged.  "You're the doctor.  You tell Zen."

"*I* think that you're *really* going because of Ukyou."

The non-sequitur caught Zen completely off guard.  "What?  Where'd 
you get that idea?  Zen is going for a LOT of reasons.  Certainly Ukyou 
is one of them."

"But she's the most important one, isn't she?"  Kei grinned.  "Isn't 
she?"

Zen started to deny the charge, but the look on Kei's face stilled her 
protests in her throat.  Zen shrugged.  "Maybe she is.  It doesn't 
really matter, though.  There won't be much that Zen can do for her.  
There is no way that Zen can give her back what she's lost.  All Zen 
can do is let her know that the loss is survivable."

Kei sobered.  "You love her, don't you?"

Zen blushed.  "Don't be ridiculous!  ... Ah, hell.  Yes.  Not that it makes 
any difference."

"My.  Aren't *we* optimistic."

"Zen's feelings about Ukyou are hardly a secret.  It is, after all, why 
Zen tended to write stories that put her and Ranma together.  She 
deserved better treatment than she usually got.  Zen wanted her to 
have some pleasant dreams as well."

"Why didn't you just write a story where she was happy with some 
one else?  Or an insertion fic...  You could have had fun with that."

Zen shuddered.  "Kei... when you were a little girl, did you ever try to 
catch a bird?"

"Eh?  Sure.  Lots of times."

"If you ran chasing after them, what happened?"

"They flew away, of course.  Any idiot knows that the best way to 
catch a bird is to wait for it to come to you, and then grab it!"

"And once you've grabbed it?  Then what?  Listen to its terror and its 
struggles as you hold it?  Lock it in a cage, and listen to it cry?"

"Usually, I'd let 'em go," said Kei.

"So did Zen.  Love is like that little bird...  Unless it's freely given; 
unless the person *wants* to be there, it is meaningless - merely a 
bird locked in a cage.  Ukyou has no reason to love Zen.  All Zen has 
ever been able to do for her is send her the occasional dream."  Zen 
yawned and stretched, feeling her joints pop as she did so.  "Zen is 
going to turn in now.  Tomorrow is likely to be rather a long day."

"I think I'll stay up for a bit more, if you don't mind," said Kei.

"Not at all.  Cabin Two is ready for you whenever you want it."

"Thanks.  I'll see you in the morning, Zen-chan.  Good night."

"G'night."

Kei watched as her protÈgÈ left the flight deck.  After she was gone, 
Kei whispered to herself, "Then why do you love her so, Zen-chan?  
Has she done any more for you than to give you a pleasant dream?"

**** O_O ****

Zen walked into her cabin and sighed as the door slid shut behind 
her.  Slipping out of her uniform, she tossed the two-piece into the 
cycle bin and stretched once more before looking for a nightshirt.  
Shrugging into the oversized garment, she sat down at her terminal 
and set about writing her journal entry for the day.  So much had 
happened over the past twenty four hours.  But that was the nature 
of change, Zen thought idly.  It was slow and plodding on the macro-
scopic scale, but in the here and now it could be very fast and 
dramatic indeed.

After finishing the journal entry, Zen keyed into her mailer to send a 
transmission to Nightelf.  Like Zen, Nightelf had chosen to remain a 
noncombatant.  Unlike Zen, she had a reason to remain that way - 
and a damned good one.  Zen had given a lot of thought to NOT telling 
Nicola where she was going, or how bad things had gotten.  But Zen 
felt an obligation to keep her friend posted on what was happening.  
In the end, Nicola would not thank Zen for keeping her in the dark.  
Besides - it would not have been honourable.

The last words of the message she had sent echoed in her mind.  
'They might survive.'  Indeed, they might.  But to do that, they had to 
win.  There was no alternative.  There would be no second chances 
here.  With a sigh, Zen closed down the link and got into her bed.

In a little over twelve hours ship-time she and the Angels would be 
on FRED, and the real battles would begin.

END PART ONE


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