Number: 69 Title: Fall of the Gemini Alliance Type: Fan Fiction Scenes: ---------- "There's a... person... thing named Lassidar." "Person thing named Lassidar, right." "Well," said James. "It's an alien... we think." "A person thing alien we think named Lassidar, right." Carrie said sarcastically. "Hey!" The Traveler shouted. "This is confusing enough for me!" "Indeed." Liz piped up. "And you are now making it even more confusing for us." ---------- "Plan A was the plan I liked the most. Plan A would have involved six weeks of intensive training, where I crammed your heads full of a half-dozen different types of military tactics and you would master a hundred fight styles. We would amass an army that could conquer the galaxy and march into battle with solid knowledge of what we are up against...... However, we aren't doing Plan A. Plan A was fucked up the ass with a loaded rocket launcher, so we're doing Plan B. You're not going to like me when this is over with. You may even hate me. Some you might even be dead. But we're going to win. Do any of you know _why_ we're going to win?" As usual, Ranma and Taro both raised their hands at the same time. The rest of the group mulled over Carrie's speech. Drezier looked like she was thinking hard on the subject. "Taro," Carrie prompted after a moment. "Because we're the best at fighting?" "No. Ranma?" "Because we're the good guys." "No. Any more? ..... Okay. We're going to win because we don't have any other choice. If we loose, concepts like victory and defeat will cease to be relevant, as all we know--ourselves included--ceases to be." ---------- "Crap! I think they saw us get in." Tarou hissed. Ranma was looking over the fighter's controls. The thing looked like a normal jet fighter from the outside, but the cockpit was a mess. Wasn't a plane supposed to be easy to fly? _This isn't a plane,_ a voice inside his head insisted. Wasn't a plane? Suddenly images and words engulfed Ranma's mind as a thousand discrete memories flew from his subconcious and dropped neatly into place, like a puzzle peieces being dumped out of a box, only to land in such a fashion that the puzzle was finished as the last peice hit the table. { ... and here's the right leg control surface, the Vindicator missile control is here ... } { ... this is yaw. Now pull to the left gently ... } { ... this is the TSR-1000 simulator for our MC-02 Veritech. Hop on in, Ranma ...} And so it went. "--get us out of here." Tarou was saying. Ranma looked at the controls again. They no longer felt like a confusing mess. Suddenly Ranma's body and recently adjusted mind slipped into the Veritech's cockpit like he was born there. "If we get out for anything, it'll be for G-suits." "What?!" Tarou yelled in his ear. "I can pilot this thing. It'll be faster than stealing a car, and much harder to follow." "Great." Tarou quipped. "The aquatranssexual has lost her mind." ---------- "Wait, WAITAMINUTE!" All arguements immediately stopped. Carrie put her fingers to her temples and exhaled several deep breaths. "Okay. Ranma, your file said you knew nothing about piloting Veritech fighters. Veritech fighters don't even exist in these dimensions. None of them. Can you tell me why the fuck there's an entire wing of them at this base, or how in the world you learned how to pilot them?" "They probably built them there. There's a huge plant for planes and junk like right just a little ways away. And how I learned... well, pop taught me." "A likely fucking story. YOU didn't know how to pilot a food processor when I met you!" "Hey, it just came to me right then, okay?!" Carrie's hands flew back to her sides as she suddenly shuddered. Her eyes opened, peering at her meager forces intently. "Veritechs." She said slowly. "Didn't exist here when I arrived. Ranma couldn't pilot his way out of a paper bag when I arrived. You two," she pointed, "couldn't run at two hundred miles per hour when I arrived. Things are changing, these universes are changing, shifting, becoming more than they were. Most people don't seem to be affected. Only Lassidar's armies and yourselves. This... has never happened before. Change of plans. We don't leave Lassidar alive. We don't hold back. We fight to the bitter end. We kill anyone who opposes us. If we don't act immediately and without holding back at all, we will all die very horrible deaths in the near future." "Did it ever occur to you," Terry said slowly, "that all of these changes might not necessarily be a bad thing?" "Life is filled with messy but consistent patterns. Every dimension has them. Existence itself is a variation of patterns. Certain things just don't happen. World lines two twisted to understand with a reasonable mind vanish--poof!--just like that. This is all quickly becoming completely irrational. How is it only Lassidar's forces are gaining unheard of abilities. If the dimenions are blending, everyone would have these new abilities and technologies. The selective way in which everything is evolving tells me that this is not natural. I don't know what Lassidar's plans are, but he has to be stopped." ----------