-*- mode: text; fill-column: 79; -*-

				     Shin
			       Silver Millennium
				  Monogatari

				   Episode 2
				  Revelations

--- 

Acknowledgements:
	TAKAHASHI Rumiko, without whom this story would not have a narrator ^_-
	TAKEUCHI Naoko, without whom this story would not have a purpose -_^
	Fumitsuna MARUYAMA, who's very useful post provided a lot of
information.  (this is available from venice.tcp.com as sailor_moon.info.gz)

	Any unusual weirdness or strange interpretations are my fault, so don't
blame the abovementioned for them ^^

	This story, while using characters and situations created by others,
is copyright © Suika Roberts, 1998-2000.  Lawsuits would probably be bad
for the suer's image ^_^

---

		"You see me now a vetran of a thousand psychic wars
		 My energy is spent at last and my armor is destroyed
		 I have used up all my weapons and I'm helpless and bereaved
		 Wounds are all I'm made of
		 Did I hear you say that this is victory?
		 Don't let these shakes go on . . . "
				-- Blue Oyster Cult,
					"Vetran of the Psychic Wars"
					[Transcribed by me --S]

	Loss.  Such a simple concept to take up so much of my time.  Have I
lost who I was?  And who was I?  Tsukino Ritsuko?  Saotome Ranma?  I've been
staring at this problem since I recovered from the data overdose, but I still
haven't come to a good conclusion; I kinda like who I am, now, more stable than
Ranma, more attached than Ritsuko, much less reserved than Ranma or Ritsuko.

	I shouldn't be here.  I shouldn't be eavesdropping like this, but I
can't help it.  I'm the one who showed her what the youma are.  I hadn't
realized she would take it this hard, but I should have.  She's still sobbing,
but the volume is dropping.

	`Rei?' her voice is still rough with tears.

	`Usagi-chan?'

	`Beat me.  Please.  I can't let myself go unpunished.'  Why is she
doing this she doesn't . . .

	`You don't . . . '  Rei-chan echos my thoughts.

	`It wouldn't be a punishment otherwise.'  Her voice is strange, fear
mixed with steel hard control.  I hold myself still, anticipating.

	The first blow comes, the familiar swish-crack of a flexible cane.  She
gasps, counts, `One.  Thank you, Rei.'  I bite a left knuckle hard, the
semi-rigid armor collapsing against my skin.  Swish-crack, `Two.  Thank you,
Rei.'  Wrapping my left elbow in my hand I squeeze hard, forcing myself not to
intervene, knowing that if Chie's acceptance of her actions isn't enough,
nothing I can say will be.  `Three.  Thank you Rei.'  After the first blow her
only vocalization is the count, tearing at my heart.  `Thirty.  Thank you,
Rei,' Rei-chan is crying, her breath changing as she tries not to sob.
Usagi-chama's voice grows more strained as the count increases, `Fourty-five.
Thank you, Rei,' and the swish-crack has changed slightly, taking on the sure
resonance of breaking skin.

	`Sixty.  Thank you, Rei.'  I wait for the next blow, remembering the
feel of my blood trickling down my back, the safe feeling of sure trust, her
fingers warm against my face, thanking me, the overpowering arousal.  This is
utterly different, awful, for I know she is not enjoying this, doesn't work
that way.  Instead of the next blow I hear Rei-chan wipe down the cane, her
open sobbing as she cradles herself against Usagi-chama's breast, Usagi-chama's
shocked gasp as Rei-chan's fingers brush the open stripes.

	`Why did you stop?'  Usagi-chama's voice shows the pain of her back,
overlaid with annoyance.

	`Because continuing would have meant going over your back again, and
you are already bleeding all the way down.'  Rei-chan's voice is shaken, as
shaken as I feel.  I bite my knuckle harder, the presure making my teeth hurt.

	`It doesn't matter.  I deserve it.  I killed them, all of them.  They
were my friends, and I _killed_ them!'  Usagi-chama's voice raises to a shriek,
and she breaks down sobbing.

	I listen to her sob for a while more, the occasional sharp gasp coming
through as she shifts in Rei-chan's arms.  Finally she quiets, `Thank you,
Rei.'

	`Oyasumi.'  Rei's voice is soft.

	`Oyasumi.'  Usagi-chama's responce is even softer, pain-tinged and
sleepy.

	I wait a little while more, then drop to the ground, the extra fourty
kilograms of armour adding a faint sushing noise to my landing.  Mercury looks
up at me, and I finally notice her.

	`How long have you been here?' we whisper in unison.  It is almost
enough to make me laugh, and the silent tears on Mercury's face make me notice
the wetness on my own.

	I jerk my head towards Tendouke, and she nods, leaping off.  I follow,
catching up with her on a rooftop several blocks from Hikawa.  `I followed them
from the moment they left.  You?'

	`Same.  The worst thing about this is there's nothing we can do to make
her feel better, nothing at all.'  I nod morosely, blink back my tears.

	`Chie-chan doesn't know how to get back, and I didn't manage to tag the
general.'

	`But at least we know they only have about another ninety Youma, and
that you can rescue them.'

	`Yeah.  And Chie-chan is back.'  I manage a weak smile to go with the
comment.

	`Un.'  She nods at me, flashes a quick "bye," and bounds off towards
her house.

	A few minutes later I drop into the Tendouke yard, let myself in, and
strip out of the outer armor, placing it on its rack.  Walking to the bathroom
I locate everyone, not wanting a repeat of my second introduction to Akane.
Everyone is abed, asleep or nearly so.  I strip the softsuit off in the laundry
room, dropping it to the floor.  I scrub so hard that I'd have taken my skin
off two weeks ago, but the change is progressing properly, and I just end up a
bright pink.  I lay the brass-bristled brush aside, rinse off, and lower myself
into the lukewarm bathwater.  It isn't warm enough to cancel the curse.

	I take a deep breath and drop all the way under the water, staring up
through the nictating membranes, which give everything a faint greyish tinge.
The day's events come forward again, and I let myself brood over them.

-

	The first I knew of the mess was Usagi-chama transforming.  I
appologized to Akane for running off, got into my armor, thanked her for
sparring with me, and opened a warp to Usagi-chama's location.  Usagi-chama was
bouncing around in a giant tennis ball, Naru-chan was collapsed in some bushes,
and some girl I didn't recognize was collapsed at the feet of an AS.

	`Hey!  What are you doing?'  The AS looked up at my yell, makes an
inarticulate noise, and slammed a fireball at me like a tennis ball.  I
sidestepped it, moved a little closer, and kept her distracted.

	write misato <Ne, what is this thing?>  I dodged another fireball.

	<Youma.  Wait, I recognize that matrix.  Oh no.>

	<Reset?>  I poked the AS in the side before dodging another blow.

	<three needles should do it.> Suddenly I felt something behind me, and
parried the tiara with my spaud, the horrific shrieking noise making me
wince.

	I turned back to the AS and put a three round burst into her chest,
resetting her matrix.

	While it was still destablized, I plunged into her matrix, set it to
maintainence mode, and started looking for what was done to her.  At long last I
found it, a great big ugly patch that, once seen, was obvious.  Someone had put
in an override of her primary affective bonds, layered a complete, obsessive
love of Beryl as the Dark Queen, so powerful that anything she could do to
lessen Beryl's annoyence was more important than anything else.

	I ripped the hideous thing out, saved a copy to my filespace and
distroyed the original.  That done I let her boot the rest of the way to
normal mode, held the sobbing form as she clung to me, her head buried against
my chest.

	`Ritsuko-chan?'  Usagi-chama came up beside me, staring in distress at
the form in my arms.

	`You remember Chie-chan, don't you?'  There was a thump, and I look up
again to see she'd fallen to her knees, the first tears dripping down her face.

	`Don't,'  Chie-chan speaks up, `You were doing what you thought was
right.'

	`I almost killed you!'

	`And I was going to incapacitate you so that Nephrite could drag you
off to the Dark Kingdom.  Just be glad we both failed.'  Mars-chan and Mercury
came up behind us, Mars-chan moved to comfort Usagi-chama, and Mercury came up
to us, stroking Chie-chan's hair.

	`Mercury-chan?'  Mercury started at Chie-chan's voice.

	`Yes, Chie?'

	`What happened to Miyuu?  She was so happy to get a chance to please,'
Chie-chan gulped, and Mercury made an understanding noise, `when she went out
two weeks ago.'  I looked up into Mercury's eyes, and I knew.  I just recorded
the rest of the conversation, concentrated on being as comforting to Chie-chan
as I could.

-

	I poke my face out of the water, take a deep breath, and worry about
what will happen, to Usagi-chama, to Chie-chan, to the other ninety people
who's minds have been shredded, emotions abused, for so very long.

	I force the worries from my mind, pull myself from the bath, and wrap a
towel about my nakedness before staggaring off to bed.

-

	I wake before the sun rises, hurry down to the bathroom and reclaim my
armor before anyone needs the room, slip into the thickly spelled fabric, which
has cleaned itself again.  I start breakfast in the kitchen, knowing this may
be my only chance to do this, to quiet my fears.  Kasumi enters the room as I
finish the preparations.

	`Ranma, you didn't need to . . . '  I cut her off, my hand over her
mouth, sweep her feet out from under her, and straddle her hips.  I set the
spell in place, effectively gagging her, the cutoff trigger set.

	`I'm going to tickle you; you cannot escape and you cannot call for
help.'  Her eyes get bigger for a moment, and I really hope I judged her
right.  If she likes this it won't work.

	I begin to tickle her, only the faintest whisper of her frantic
shrieking reaching even my ears.  Minutes pass, and I push her to the near edge
of nausea before backing off again.  As I approach that point a second time the
cutoff hits as she backhands me hard.  I roll off her to my feet, laughing with
relief.

	She stands, glaring at me, breathing hard.  `Why.' she starts, biting
off each word, `Did. You. Do. That?!' Her volume stays level, her tone
displaying her anger.

	`I needed to know you can become angry.  I lost someone dear to me
because she couldn't.'  I look at the floor.  `You can hit me if it would make
you feel better.  Or tickle me.'  My trepidation at that last creeps into my
voice before I can stop it.

	`It's OK, Ranma-chan.  It's nice to know someone worries about me.'  I
look up into the most blinding smile.

	`Breakfast should be done soon.'  I turn to check on it, franticly turn
the soup down, for it was up a bit high and about to boil.

	The sudden touch of teeth against my neck almost makes me jump, draws a
delighted moan from my throat as they tighten.  Kasumi draws back with an
embarrassed giggle.

	`Please don't start anything you don't intend to finish, although if
you finish that breakfast may just burn.'  The embarrassment just radiates off
Kasumi, and I wonder about my fluxing empathic skills.

	School greets me quietly, some of the girls still radiating envy, and
the boys a palpable lust, held in check by a fear almost as deep.  The day
after I took down Kunou the fools attacked me en masse, and I laid down the law
for them.

	`Any of you touch me without my permision, and you will lose something
you seem to think is precious.'  The first dozen didn't believe me.  The
altered didn't even notice until their fellows pointed it out, then several of
them set up a great wailing, while a few others ran off in search of a
restroom, probably hoping hot water would turn them back.  The most amusing two
started grovelling at my feet, one of them babbling thanks for the change, and
the other begging me to make him a man again.

	`I warned you.'  Only four others and one of the girls touched me
after that.  The girl left a handprint on my face, but I think that was to
make sure I'd change her.  I might well have done so anyway, but I probably
wouldn't have noticed she was male if she hadn't slapped me, so it was OK.  I
walk closer to the group of boys, and they break and scatter.  The changed
looked on with amusement, compassion, or, in a couple cases, a simmering rage.
I made it as easy on them as I could, getting all of their records changed to
match their new status, and things went amazingly smooth.  I only had two
parents call threatening to kill me, and four saying that they'd maim me if
they ever saw me.

	I smile at Gosunkugi Hikaru, and she bats her eyelashes at me.
Gosunkugi-kun seems to have taken the transition best of everyone but
whats-her-name who slapped me, having gone from a rather worn-looking young man
to a fairly pleasant young woman, even if she shamelessly flirted with anyone
of a female gender.  *Not unlike a certain young guard, so long ago* The girl
standing next to her notices when I smile, and lays a possesive hand on
Hikaru-kun's neck.  The way Hikaru-kun stands a little taller, turns her head
just a tiny bit towards her friend warms my heart, and I continue into school.

-

	I sit, cross-legged, in the warm sunlight of the garden, my armor's
motors arrayed in front of me.  I pick up one of the wrist-thrusters, unbolt
and remove the covers, then check all the connections.  That done I reattach
the three panels that are needed for operation, and take a deep breath.  The
primary fuel dump has finally regenerated, and there's enough fuel for testing.
The tanks won't be full for another year, but they'll support a single pilot
indefinately by the end of next week.

	I slip the thruster into a suport-base, and grab the handles.
Holding it firmly I ramp it up to ten percent, the blue oxy-kerosene flame
pressing firmly back against my hands.  I cut the fuel, and set it aside to
cool a moment.

	I repeat the process with another wrist-thruster, then check over the
first.  It reads clean, and I continue the process, running it all the way up
to sixty percent this time.

	Both thrusters check clean at sixty percent, and I run them all the way
to a hundred and fifteen percent.  No one, I note as I reattach the armor
covers, has come by to investigate, and no one in the household, other than
Kasumi, has noticed.

	I run through the thrusters in the prescribed manner testing all of the
round aerospike motors first, left wrist front and back, right wrist front and
back, right ankle, then left, right thigh, then left, left shoulder, then
right, right hip, then left.

	Once I'm done with that, I hook the spinal motor, a linear aerospike,
into its support base, and run it up to ten percent.  The thrust for this one
is heavy enough that I'll only be able to test it to sixty percent, unlike the
original V30 thrusters.  The 141 is a slightly heavier suit, but the motors use
the same mounts, a feature the military insisted upon from the very beginning
of the VolksJaeger project.

	The three tests are a holdover from earlier days, when `proper' test
equipment was bulkier, harder to use, and not readily available, anyway, so I
put the spinal's covers back on, then pull the rigid panels out of my armor
bag.  The motors mount into place with no trouble, locking down and setting the
proper bits.

	The motors attached I put the rigid panels on, locking them to the
proper hardpoints on the semi-rigid undersuit, and then, at the full combat
trim of almost a hundred and fifty kilos, walk carefully out into the street.

	There I take a deep breath, look up, bend my knees slightly, and leap.
As I approach the peak of my trajectory I light the motors, thigh, shoulder,
and spinal, the remarkable thrust pressing against my back with wonderful,
familiar, firmness.

	I count, sixty seconds, one twenty, then cut the thrust, letting the
air out of my lungs, the nictating membranes over my eyes, and fire a short
burst from one of the wrist thrusters, turning me to face the world falling by.

	\Everyone who's watching is having a cow, you know\ Misato tells me, a
smile in her voice.

	/I thought they might.  I thought, however, that you might keep them
from seeing me in the first place./

	\Where's the fun in that?\

	/True./

	*A few seconds more.*  I spin, faint blue flames aligning me properly,
then kick the thrusters in for a full burn, decelerating.   Several shorter
burns follow, keeping my tender skin from overheating as I drop through the
atmosphere.

	About six kilometers up and a hundred out I slide a hand into the wash
of atmosphere, turning myself halfway around, then use the other to complete
the turn, falling towards my destination at a decent speed.  I let myself drop
another two kilometers, and to within fifty kilometers of my destination,
before I light the motors again, coming in for a flashy NOE rush across Tokyou
bay, over the rooftops just high enough not to light them on fire with the,
occasionally, thirty-meter plume of hot gas, and then a final deceleration over
Nerima.  I pull it off perfectly, reaching zero relative velocity right over
the street in front of the Tendou house, upside down, fifteen meters up.

	I spin lightly, and land on my feet right where I started.  The
pavement feels a little funny, and I glance down to see that I've sunk into the
still-warm asphault halfway up my toe.  I slog out, leaving deep footprints,
into the Tendo's yard.  Once there I finally take a breath, almost gagging at
the strong reek of burned petrochemicals.

	/Misato-chan/ I whine at her, /could you fix this?/

	\What?\ she asks, as she checks, \wow, that's unexpected.\

	/Shoulda expected it.  I knew the road was asphault./

	\What kind of idiot makes their roads out of asphault?  I'll have
something better in place for this stretch of street by tomorrow morning.\

	/Thanks./  I walk to the house, wondering how I'm going to get the
asphault off my boots, for a moment, then relax.  *How did I forget the
cleaning spells?  Same way I forgot the street was asphault.*

-

	The tracker slaps against the back of Nephrite's neck, already melting
into his skin.  I drop back, a burst of blue flame aiding my retreat, then
spin to cover Mars-chan falling back, Sumi-chan in her arms.

	Usagi-chan charges forward, hands wrapped tight around her spell, and
Cleo drops, stunned, as Nephrite gates out, leaving her to cover his retreat.

	We haven't let any of them help, yet, wanting to keep the slight
advantage secrecy grants.  It is probably safer for the others, too, if not
for us.

	The signal from the tracker cuts out with a crackle of static, and I
slump back against a convienient light pole.  /Misato-chan, did you get a
fix?/

	\No more than you did.  They're not close, wherever they are.\

	/Outsystem?  Or transversal?/

	\Outsystem, we think.\

	I let a soft, pleased sigh escape my lips, /Thank Eris for what favors
we find./

	\Yes.\

-

	o/~ . . . Boy you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down,
I am the Eggman, .  . . o/~ Danny Elfman sings, as I run through my kata,
trying to ignore the steadying effects of the beat, and the feel of
Usagi-chama's admiring gaze, tuning the music out for a moment, o/~ . . . if
the sun don't come we'll get a tan from standing in the English rain . . . o/~

	In a few moments I let myself drop into the beat, moving with it for
the final line, o/~ . . . ku ku ka chu, ku ku ka chu o/~ and stand, immobile,
hands extended, as the song ends, before turning to Usagi-chama.
 
	`Like what you see?' I smile at her, taking the few steps that bring
me within touching distance, reach, my hand cupped to match the curve of her
face.

	Remembering myself at the last instant, I stop, but before I can drop
my hand, Usagi-chama presses her cheek into it.  I imagine I can feel the
warmth of it through my gloves, despite the impossibility of that.

	`If only you could see yourself as I see you,' she smiles, slightly
sadly.

	I blink back tears, `I have,' remembering the lovely feeling of her
love, her utter devotion, her perfect, eternal, astonishment at my love for
her, my trust of her, the brilliant red of my blood on the lovely paleness of
her fingers, the sheer brilliance of her desire for me, the way I was so
beautiful in her sight, palest white, with glistening red stripes from the
rod down my back, and my blood forming an almost abstract pattern down my
sides.

	It had been a lovely feeling, as intense, in it's own way, as the
beating had been.

	`I wish that you could see yourself as I see you now, too,' and her
smile is less sad.

	`That would be nice,' I allow, leaning in closer to the taller woman.

	`May I,' and she is leaning forward as well, her head tilted a little
to the side, her hand reaching for my face.

	`Please,' I manage, the word so soft I wonder if she'll hear it.

	Apparently she does, for her fingers curl into my hair, and she leans
in, kissing me, gently at first, then her tongue brushes past my lips,
scraping along my teeth.

	She kisses me for a long time, and it is just completely wonderful.

-

	/So, did you get anything useful out of any of them?/

	\No.  They were inside most of the time, and whenever they were not,
it was overcast, night or day.\

	/Oh well./

	\Indeed.\

-

	`What was that about?' Akane asks me, anger in her voice.

	`Which?'

	`That girl kissing you!'

	`What's it to you?  I thought you didn't want to marry some freak like
me.'

	`I don't!  I'm just wondering why you're kissing other girls,' she
forces something like calm on herself.

	`A long time ago, not terribly far away, I was totally and completely
in love with her.'

	`And now?' Her voice is skeptical.

	`Now, I dearly want to be in love with her again, to have her love me
again.  Both her, and her wife.'

	Akane faults, `Her wife?'

	`Yes.  They're both so lovely,' I can't help but smile, rocking back a
little at the memory of Usagi-chama's kiss.

	`How can she have a wife?  She looks like she's younger than you are!'

	`Now, yes.  Then, she was much older than me.  Both of them were.'

	`How long of a time ago are we talking, here?'

	`About five hundred thousand years.'

	Akane faults again, `Five hundred thousand years?  Ranma, people
hadn't even evolved yet, five hundred thousand years ago.'

	`Oh, but they had.  Humans aren't native to this world.'

	`We're not?' she sounds incredulous.

	`No, you're not.  About five million years ago, your people, the
Zentraedi, came into our system for the first time, and we had a little war,
and then we assimilated them.  A few of them wanted to take a fresh start, to
rebuild their society from nothing.  So, we set things in motion to
grandfather them in, and allowed them to emmigrate to the Earth, to try and
become Earthlings.  We weren't supposed to fall like that, though.'

	`Who's this we you're using, and why aren't there any fossils of
people older than a couple hundred thousand years?'

	`We are the native technological species of Earth, who evolved about
sixty-four and a half million years ago, and proceeded to wipe out most life
on the planet through stupidity and war.'

	`Oh.  Why aren't there any fossils of you guys?  Or ruins?'

	`Archeaology.   After about thirty million years there was nothing
left to find, and what had been found had been hauled off to museums and
storage sights elsewhere in the system.'

	`And the fossils of these early humans?  These Zenradi?'

	`Zentraedi.  Part of the requirement was for them to leave no trace.
Scatter garbage, or leave it places where it would be destroyed, in the domes
of volcanos, at the foot of glaciers, in subduction zones.  Destroy any tool
if it isn't going to be used again, same with decorative stuff.  Burn the
dead, scatter their ashes.  Pull down and scatter any structures that aren't
going to be used for any length of time.'

	`And they kept to these strictures for more than a hundred thousand
years after whatever caused this `fall'.'

	`Yes.  I'm sure there were mistakes, even earlier, but any that
they've discovered have been put down to errors on the part of the Human
archeaologist who did so.'

	`Wow.  Bet you can't prove any of this, huh?'

	`Actually,' and I open a small gate, to my locker in the farside
complex.  I pull out one of my treasures, a shell-casing from the final war,
`I can't.  But this,' and I hand her the object, from a light automatic rifle
shell, 13r, or a bit more than 35mm, about the size of a coke bottle.

	`It feels old,' Akane holds the object reverently, turning it to look
at the inscription stamped into the butt-end of it, tracing the archaeic
script with her eyes, noting the slight dent where the firing pin hit it.  `It
feels really old.'

	`It was fired during the Final War, sixty five million years ago.'

	Akane stares at me, her eyes sparkling.  `Thank you,' she says,
softly, handing it back.  I put it back in its box, and hit the button that
will once more evacuate all the air.

	`You're welcome,' and she smiles.

-


---
Log:
1998 may?  ??:	started
1999 July 21:	added log
1999 August 17:	little bit of editing.
2000 March 27:	added about a hundred lines
2001 April 24:	added a couple hundred lines