Chapter Text
Ryua Ryoko massaged her brow and the bridge of her nose. The throbbing in her head refused to relent ever since her escape from the jade-eyed woman’s cell. While the myriad of intrusive images had ceased, those that were forced into her mind remained. She remembered the bar, the spat with Nagi, the latter’s transformation into former’s birth-mother, visions of her mother embracing a Juraian man, and the revelation that they were all…
“… Family,” Ryoko whispered to herself as her beleaguered eyes rose from her hands.
She was seated in the center of the mirror sheen of a glasslike floor, which was patterned in a simple way: a central green square for occupants, framed by a dull orange, and then an outer layer of yellow at the edge. Large rhomboid gems floated over the central square, always pointing toward the geometric center of the room. Past the floor and gemstones, she could see through a spherical dome above her into the cosmic tapestry beyond.
While Ryoko had never been in this vehicle before, the similarities to her own vessel were obvious enough.
Ken-Ohki, she realized. That’s the ‘Ken’ Ryo-Ohki mentioned before.
Glancing near her thigh, the former pirate found a small furry creature seated nearby. Not unlike a rabbit, her ears fell to either side of her head, while her tail was a cute puff of brown fur at the end of her spine. This “cabbit”, acting somewhere between a hare and a domestic cat, was the physical form of Ryo-Ohki, Ryoko’s longtime partner and companion.
Both Ryo-Ohki and Ken-Ohki were from the same species, able to transform from a mammalian tetrapod into a grand crystalline battleship, and quite sentient. Each was telepathically linked to their mistress: Ryo-Ohki to Ryoko, and Ken-Ohki to Nagi. Despite their owners’ antagonistic relationship, the two cabbits had become romantically involved through their adventures.
How’re you feeling? Ryo-Ohki’s words asked in the back of her mistress’s mind. While the furry creature mewed, their bond translated the seemingly unintelligible sounds into coherent sentences.
An emerald spark arced across Ryoko’s eyes as she winced. Shaking her head and blinking her eyes, she began to see the humanoid form Ryo-Ohki had assumed during her rescue. The worry in the amber eyes of both incarnations was clear as she reached out for her partner, both as a cabbit and as an anthropomorphic projection.
We need to get you some help, Ryo-Ohki stated, her concern felt through their connection. Ken, is there a hospital nearby?
“I’m fine,” Ryoko declared, shaking her head. The jade light faded from her feline eyes as her head cleared. “It’s just a headache. Don’t worry about it.”
The humanoid Ryo-Ohki folded her arms, uncertainty feeding from her worries. Through their link, they could feel each other’s emotions in addition to simple communication. However, since escaping the jaded-eyed woman, Ryoko’s emotions have been a jumbled mess, and her partner could not sense them clearly. Simultaneously, their thought exchanges appeared to be unimpeded, unusually so. Normally, there might be the occasional garbled word or syllable, but every sentence transmitted seemed pristine, as if they truly shared one mind.
The former pirate motioned to her partner’s alternate persona. “I haven’t seen you like that in a long time.”
Not since we bonded, Ryo-Ohki recalled.
Ryoko grinned. “You look good, not a little kid anymore.”
Something’s wrong if you can see this side of me, the furry being stated. Our bond shouldn’t be that strong. What was that woman doing to you?
“Mom?” the Ryoan answered, before she corrected, “… the person impersonating Mom?”
Yeah, her partner acknowledged, her. Who is she?
“I don’t know,” her mistress answered. “I’ve never met her before.”
Do you remember how you got there?
“I remember going to the bar, Nagi coming in, punching her…”
A male meow echoed in the room, Ken-Ohki responding with confusion to her claim. Ryo-Ohki natively understood him, and Ryoko had learned enough of their language from hearing her companion and receiving the translation to her mind to understand him.
That didn’t happen, he argued.
He’s right, Ryo-Ohki agreed. We were both there in the bar when you two started arguing.
Confusion furrowed Ryoko’s brow as she rubbed her temple and thought back to that moment. “But, I remember the punch…”
The brown cabbit hopped into her mistress’s hands, as her humanoid projection knelt at her side. You never got the chance to punch her. Do you remember the man who came in?
“Man?”
Again, emerald light shot across Ryoko’s amber eyes, causing her to shut them and shake the invading images away. Despite the memories in her mind, and her own stubbornness, the former pirate could feel that not all was well. As Nagi’s companion, the Ryoan woman did not trust Ken-Ohki, but she was confident that Ryo-Ohki would not lie to her. They have been partners throughout their criminal career, and since it had ended. They have shared their very thoughts, more than conspirators, closer to sisters.
Yet, Ryoko could feel a tug, a compulsion, to ignore her longtime ally.
However, the pirates by their very nature had a strong desire to rebel, and while she had reformed, Ryoko was a pirate to her very core.
As she petted her furry partner, Ryoko took a heavy breath and closed her eyes, whispering, “Show me everything.”
She lowered her head toward her cabbit, and the humanoid vision of Ryo-Ohki did the same. Between the trio, they shared their memories freely, reconstructing the events of the past day.
Ten hours before Ryo-Ohki and Ken-Ohki saved Ryoko, the former pirate stood on the bridge of her vessel, approaching the throneworld of the Jurai Empire. The battleship Ryo-Ohki had a bridge much the same as her male counterpart, though colored in violet hues with far more gemstones floating around her occupants. Gazing past the transparent globe protecting her passengers, Ryoko could see their destination clearly in view, the planet Jurai.
The seat of imperial power for the Jurai royal family, the planet was almost entirely covered in trees, creating a gem of a world marbled in arboreal greens and oceanic blues. However, this truly beautiful flower also had her thorns. Two rings of artificial satellites remained in geosynchronous orbit, each armed with an array of four energy weapons which could be rotated to aim at an incoming threat.
And, Ryoko was well acquainted with them. Nearly three years ago, she had blazed like a valkyrie through the throneworld’s defensive perimeter, personally detonating a portion of one of the rings. She also knew about the numerous crystal mines, which could be deployed upon an aggressor once in the atmosphere. More armament likely existed for larger threats than a lone battleship.
Today, however, the guns and explosives were silent. Indeed, she was invited as a guest to the throneworld. Every generation, the Jurai royal family held a reunion to maintain their traditions, to remember those who have passed, to introduce those who have been born and grown, and to remind the galaxy of their power.
“Power” meant more than simply military might for the Jurai royal family. Each member, to a lesser or greater extent, had access to an ethereal energy that legends held could surpass a god. Their local folklore and faith actually held that they were blessed with this potential by a mother goddess, who linked them to the trees of their world. The psychic connection to the trees drove Juraian technology in a biological direction, harnessing the vegetation of their lush planet.
Though Ryoko had power inherited from her own species, she was not native or descended from Jurai. Her homeworld was only a vassal of the empire, having a Juraian governor and Juraian laws. Instead, her invitation was due to her passengers, with whom she resided on Earth.
Jurai Ayeka, princess of the empire, had once been the direct heir to the throne. Holding close to the traditions of her people, she wore an intricately woven kimono of the finest silk in the galaxy and tied her grand mane of hair into two tails, which easily reached her ankles. No one could question her lineage or education, given her eloquent speech and impeccable poise. While she had been raised to succeed the throne upon coming of age, she abdicated her right to her great uncle shortly after a nearly successful coup d’etat.
Through strange fate, Ryoko and Ayeka had encountered one another at several junctures throughout their lives, opposites like fire and water, the criminal and the royal. They often would spar verbally, and physically, though they did share a grudging respect for one another.
Ayeka’s younger sister Sasami had just reached the age of ten and reflected her elder sibling in many ways: their hair, their mannerisms, their speech. However, still being young, the cherub-like Sasami could be quite the mischievous imp, an aspect Ryoko enjoyed exploiting to pester Ayeka, “corrupting” her little sister with more fun than the former crown princess would accept.
Interestingly, while Ayeka’s hair was a regal violet, Sasami’s was closer to an oceanic azure. Moreover, in addition to some freckles on her cheeks, the younger sibling had a peculiar birthmark on her forehead: two identical green triangles, mirror images of one another. Ryoko had seen Ayeka without her tiara once or twice, and she did not share the same mark.
Yet, Ryoko’s true reason for being here was Masaki Tenchi. Born on Earth, he knew nothing of his connection to Jurai until the coup d’etat. Masaki Katsuhito, his maternal grandfather, had been revealed to be “Jurai Yosho”, the legendary warrior prince who, like Ayeka after him, had foregone the throne. In toppling the coup, Tenchi had come to know Jurai’s power for himself and to be offered the throne by Ayeka, who had fallen in love with him. Ultimately, the young man had chosen to return to his humble life on Earth.
And, Ryoko had also fallen in love with the Terran native. Ironically, he had stolen the pirate’s heart with his naivety and honesty, but kept her with his kindness and bravery. Even though he dressed himself for this occasion with the wardrobe of a Juraian noble, she knew he felt uncomfortable. His short black hair and tanned face clearly marked him as someone who saw the sun more than the nobility ever did.
However, Ayeka had talked him into coming with her to this “once in a generation” soiree.
The princess had attempted to use her silver tongue to coax Katsuhito to join them, that the prince of folklore would be praised upon his return, that he had missed so many members of the family in his absence. Though he had rejected his former identity and all it entailed, octogenarian reasoned he would attend to support his grandson, as “Masaki Katsuhito”, not “Jurai Yosho”. As such, he remained in his garb as a Shinto priest, a symbol of his new life and identity, a passive act of rebellion against his place of birth.
Ryoko figured the old man likely would like to see his old home at peace one more time, and keep Ayeka’s claws from dragging Tenchi into Jurai’s influence.
As Ryo-Ohki descended through the atmosphere of Jurai, a chill ran along the former pirate’s spine. Part of her awaited the deck to rock from an impact, for a bulkhead to explode. An old ache in her left side throbbed as her body tensed.
But, no blasts impacted her battleship. No fires broke out. All was well.
She then felt a hand on her shoulder, startling her as she looked at the culprit.
“You okay, Ryoko?” Tenchi asked her, concern clear in his face.
She smiled and chuckled to herself. “Yeah, Tenchi,” she responded. “It’s nothing.”
He nodded, though she could still see the concern in his face. They both knew the likely cause of her tension. Tenchi had been with her in her assault on the planetary defenses three years ago, and had been the reason for her unrelenting tenacity. For him, she had faced death to get him to Jurai, to avenge his grandfather’s defeat, to topple the false emperor, to save the other woman who loved him. Today marked her first time back to Jurai since that final battle was joined, and those violent and visceral memories swirled inside her head.
While Ryoko folded her arms, the clouds parted to reveal the idyllic surface of Jurai. Fields of green stretched for kilometers in every direction, immense trees rising from the surface. Several of the gigantic flora were integrated with structures, becoming the organic equivalent of skyscrapers, filled with people and their technology.
Sasami dashed to the glasslike wall around the bridge and smiled at the vista laid before her. Ayeka joined her and demurely enjoyed the view with her sibling.
“Welcome home, Sasami,” the violet-tressed princess said.
“It’s still so pretty!” the younger sister added.
Resting a hand on the ten-year-old’s shoulder, the elder Juraian agreed, “It certainly is.”
Katsuhito came to stand with them, his garnet-colored eyes gazing nostalgically over the fields of his youth. Though he stood stoically with the two princesses, a subtle smile did emerge upon his lips.
Ryoko could tell all three of them were pleased to visit their homeworld, now at peace. A deep part of her was jealous in a way. She never regarded Ryua, the planet of her birth, as her home. Instead, she spent far more of her time on the move, aboard spacecraft, often sleeping in a different bed every night. Residing on Earth had given Ryoko a stability that she had not known previously. To have that from birth, she could see the appeal.
But, she did smile slightly to herself, knowing Tenchi was concerned for her, rather than ogling Jurai’s greenery.
Soon, another forest of trees appeared, but among them was one singular tree, which stood far above the others. Easily five kilometers in height, Heaven’s Tree towered beyond the organic skyscrapers below her. Her lush foliage extended out at least a quarter of her height, each branch sturdy enough to hold a city. Within, she harbored the palace of the Jurai royal family, including the residences of the great noble houses and the chambers of government. Legend held that she was the “First Tree”, the vessel through which the mother goddess bestowed upon the royal family their famed might.
While Ryoko had heard the legends about Heaven’s Tree in her younger days, she never particularly cared. Priests on Ryua told similar tales of gods, even one about how her people had gained all their magnificent abilities. Those tales, regardless of their origin, meant nothing to her, just yarns mothers spun for their children before bed. None of it was real.
Peacefully, Ryo-Ohki descended toward one of the branches, which extended the farthest from the trunk of Heaven’s Tree. Upon the mighty limb, a landing pad awaited the crystalline craft, the platform surrounded by several raised arches of aspen-like wood. Despite their appearance and texture, these organic appendages could withstand a crashing ship’s impact without major damage.
Ryoko and her furry partner could attest to that claim, as they had crashed into a similar structure during their assault on Jurai three years ago.
Each arch produced a shining beam to Ryo-Ohki, guiding her into position over the central platform. Gently, the former pirate battleship lowered herself until her primary spine barely touched the deck. Below her gemstone hull, she emitted ruby rings of light, which transported her passengers from her bridge onto the platform beneath.
An entourage approached from the edge of the platform, and both Ayeka and Sasami rushed forward to meet them. Ryoko leaned back against her vessel and watched from afar as the sisters reconnected with so many of their family and friends from the years before their arrival on Earth. Tenchi, quite unfamiliar with many of these people, lingered next to his grandfather, though both men warmly smiled at the reunion they were witnessing.
However, the Terran native then heard a familiar voice purr into his ear, “Been a long time, ‘Tenko’.”
A shiver rushed along the young prince’s spine while his eyes slid to the man standing next to him. Dressed in a green tunic and a white cape, he was clearly another member of Jurai’s royal family like the others. His light brown hair was tied behind his head not unlike Tenchi’s or Katsuhito’s, though this gentleman had let his bangs grow long and frame his face, not too dissimilar from the elder prince in his prime.
“S-Sagami?!” Tenchi stuttered.
Jurai Sagami bowed slightly. “I’m still honored you remember me. Still single, I take it?”
Nervously, the Terran-born prince scratched the back of his head and replied, “Come on, Sagami! You know I’m a guy!”
The Juraian smiled playfully. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of further complicating your romantic life.” He patted Tenchi on his shoulder. “Teasing aside, it is good to see you all under better circumstances.”
Next to Sagami, two more men joined the gathering, respectfully bowing to both Tenchi and Katsuhito. Each wore the gi and hakama of an older era of Jurai, whites and blues that flowed elegantly around them, providing them with freedom of movement. Each carried a staff made from material similar to that of Ayeka’s tiara or Tenchi’s sword. Warriors both, they had stood with the first king of their nation and reawoke at Katsuhito’s behest to save Jurai millennia later.
“Welcome back to Jurai, Prince Yosho,” spoke the elder bearded knight.
“And, welcome too, Prince Tenchi,” added his younger redheaded partner.
Katsuhito stepped forward and rested a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “Thank you, Azaka, but I have long since moved away from that name. Simply ‘Katsuhito’ will be fine.”
Blushing, Tenchi added, “Yeah, and just ‘Tenchi’ for me.”
Conflicted, the other knight voiced his protest, “But, doing so would be most impolite to your station.”
Humored, Katsuhito smirked to himself and replied, “You can’t disrespect the station of someone who has left that position. We are all family here, Kamidake.”
“Old habits die hard,” Juraiko Azaka remarked. “Please give us some time to adjust.”
“Certainly,” the grandfather agreed.
“How have you two been doing?” Tenchi inquired.
Juraiko Kamidake admitted, “We have been acclimatizing well. While there have certainly been advances in our time sealed away, the basic principles have not changed. It has been merely a matter of understanding how those principles have been utilized.”
With a scoff, his partner disagreed, “Perhaps for you.” Azaka crossed his arms. “I find no favor in the ways this generation has decided to alter the palace, or the cities below the canopy.”
Sweat beaded on the forehead of his redheaded ally as he commented, “Maybe that is a discussion for another time.”
Kamidake then glanced toward Ryoko and was about to speak before Ayeka interrupted, “Lord Tenchi! Grandfather! I have to introduce you both!”
Tenchi cringed while Katsuhito smiled to himself and gently pushed his grandson forward toward the group the violet-tressed princess was leading to him. Full of excitement, Ayeka took his arm and motioned to the group of four young adults with her.
“Lord Tenchi,” she began, “these are my friends from my finishing school days.” Motioning to the magenta-haired young woman at her side, she declared, “This is Juraihelm Ramia.”
Ramia’s garb was a particular combination of elegance and militarism. While she wore a white gown, even a tiara of her own atop her head, her torso was protected behind a layer of hardened armor, which extended plate-like pauldrons across her shoulders. The chestplate in particular held a familial crest for her lineage. Her amber eyes scanned over Tenchi coldly, particularly the Juraian wardrobe he wore at present. Not unlike Ayeka, her bearing spoke of pride, confidence, and intelligence, though notably less demure.
Her sleeved hand rose to her chest as she gave a subtle bow. “At your service, Prince Tenchi.”
Before Tenchi could respond, Ayeka had already moved to the next person. “And, this is her cousin Hiroshi.”
The only male in the princess’s entourage, Juraihelm Hiroshi bore a significant resemblance to his cousin. His hair color was a few shades into the purple spectrum, and his eyes a couple hues lighter than his cousin, though his attitude was quite different. Wearing a more modern leisure-style suit and a gold chain around his neck, he clearly was not as tied to tradition as the others in attendance. As he gazed at Tenchi, the prince could feel far more judgment and even disdain from the other man’s eyes.
Hiroshi simply waved his hand at Tenchi and said, “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Despite the prince’s unease, Ayeka indicated another of her old friends. “Here is Shikamaji Kiriko.”
Kiriko appeared more akin to the princess: demure and soft-spoken. Her chestnut-brown hair was tied formally behind her head, though a stray strand did fall along her left cheek. Her lavender eyes were gentle and kind, though the prince saw her motions as practiced, unnatural. While Ayeka could project a facade to conceal her true feelings, Kiriko gave Tenchi the same impression, only constantly. Much like the beautiful kimono she wore, this lady evoked a persona, rather than genuine kindness.
Kiriko clasped her hands together before her as she gave him a slight bow. “Pleased to meet the man who saved Jurai.”
Lastly, Ayeka came to the final member of their clique. “And, there’s little Mizune.”
Shikamaji Mizune was clearly related to the regal-tressed lady, however distantly, by their hair color being nearly identical. Mizune’s hair curled far more around her eyes and cheeks than Ayeka’s, and this new young woman styled her locks into a single tail instead of two. Her aquamarine eyes were already wide and excited, even more so than Ayeka’s. Her demeanor reminded Tenchi of Mihoshi, if he would be honest: bubbly and naive.
“Oh my goddess!” Mizune shrieked as she blushed. “I didn’t think he’d be… cute!” She cupped her mouth, her eyes dancing, starstruck.
At last with a moment to speak, Tenchi grinned wryly and bowed in return to these new acquaintances. “Pleased to meet you all. It’s great to meet so many of Ayeka’s friends.”
As he rose, Ryoko slid her arms around his neck and hung off of him playfully, resting her cheek against his. Tired of Ayeka monopolizing Tenchi for herself, the former pirate decided to intercede.
“I guess you can judge someone by the company they keep,” the cyan-maned fury teased, “eh, Ayeka?”
“R-Ryoko?!” Tenchi stammered, his face flushing red.
And, Ayeka’s excitement twisted to venom at her rival interrupting her moment.
“Get off of Tenchi this instant, Ryoko!” the princess demanded. “This is no time for your antics!”
“Says the girl who was hanging off of him just now,” the Ryoan woman rebutted. “Besides, I want to say ‘hello’ as well.” With a slight wave of her hand and a cheshire grin, she addressed Ayeka’s entourage, “Hey. I’m Ryoko.”
Disgust ran through Kiriko’s face as she recoiled. “Why is that Ryoan… ‘woman’ so familiar with you?”
Mizune’s smile collapsed as her jaw fell agape. “Wha…? You…?”
Hiroshi began to cackle. “Oh, wonderful! I wasn’t expecting a Ryoan harlot today!”
Ramia elbowed her cousin in the gut. “Shut it, Hiroshi! Their relationship is…” she glanced at Ayeka briefly before continuing, “… complicated.”
Kiriko slid her gaze toward Ramia and then toward Ayeka before inquiring, “‘Complicated’ how exactly?”
Sweat beaded on the princess’s brow as she thought quickly through her embarrassment, choosing her words carefully. “Ryoko… lives on Earth. She was recently acquitted of her crimes and is a free woman.”
“But, why is this bitch hanging on ‘your’ man, Ayeka?” Hiroshi bluntly asked. Motioning to Tenchi, he continued, “You built up this ‘Masaki Tenchi’ as your boyfriend. Goddess, even your fiancee, but you have this feline tramp cuddling with him.”
A scowl crept along Ryoko’s brow as her eyes narrowed on the Juraihelm man. She released Tenchi from her embrace and stood at his side, her arms folding.
“Who are you calling a ‘tramp’ or a ‘harlot’, asshole?”
Coldly, Kiriko responded in Hiroshi’s place, “Clearly, he was speaking to the uncouth piratess in our midst.”
Mizune meekly interjected, “I mean, she didn’t really insult anyone.”
“Her presence alone is enough offense, I think,” the other Shikamaji retorted.
Ramia turned to Kiriko and rebuked her, “That’s going a bit far.”
“Is it?” the chestnut-haired woman retorted. “Weren’t Ryoans banished from Jurai eons ago? Why is she here then?”
Hiroshi remarked, “One always seems to sneak in now and then.”
Ayeka stood aghast at the words falling from her old friends’ lips. In her excitement, she had not accounted for Ryoko’s inclusion into the day’s events, let alone her clique’s response to her. Her mind spun, seeking some way to remedy the situation before it escalated further, particularly given the anger building in Ryoko’s face.
Thankfully, Tenchi spoke for her.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” the prince declared as he stepped between Ryoko and Kiriko. “Ryoko is my friend, and she was invited to come with us here.”
Likewise, Sagami stood with Tenchi and added, “Her origins are irrelevant, and the insinuation that she is lesser for it is beneath the Jurai royal family.”
The knights then stood on either side of Ryoko as they glowered at Kiriko and Hiroshi both.
“You children should have respect for her,” Azaka stated, his tone full of disappointment. “Her courage outweighs any one of you.”
“Whatever spurred you to talk less of her without reason has no place here,” Kamidake declared, his eyes narrowed and seething.
Kiriko held her tongue, her cheeks burning red at the repeated rebukes of her position. Hiroshi began to speak, but then Katsuhito silently took his place with Ryoko as well. In the gaze of such a legend, the Juraihelm man thought better of his words and kept his mouth shut, though his eyes scowled at the Ryoan woman.
A tense moment passed without a word exchanging between either side.
Then, Kiriko turned on her heels and nodded toward another limb of Heaven’s Tree.
“Let’s go,” she suggested. “Seiryo and Noike should be arriving soon.”
As she began to walk away, Hiroshi joined her, commenting, “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be interested to hear what the cat dragged in.”
Sparks arched across Ryoko’s fists as they gripped at her side. She could easily teleport to them and knock their pompous asses into the ground. Without any effort, she could blast all those vicious words out of their lungs, and in years past, she would not have hesitated. She would have just done it the moment the purple-haired bastard uttered “harlot” in her direction.
But, she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. Tenchi’s kind eyes met hers while he shook his head.
“They’re not worth it,” he whispered to her.
Mizune hesitated for a moment before Kiriko called for her, and after a brief glance to those with Tenchi and Ryoko, Mizune hurried to join her two friends. Kiriko then turned to Ramia, expecting her to come as well.
However, Ramia glanced over to where Sasami was standing. With her were two other children, one of which was a young boy with burgundy hair. Dressed in a green tunic somewhat similar to Sagami’s, but with a purple cape sporting a more feather-like motif, her brother Rumiya looked back at her, watching what she chose. Likewise, Asahina Hikari was holding hands with Sasami. Framed by her wild green hair, Hikari’s rosy eyes also hung on Ramia’s next few words. Moreover, Sasami herself awaited the magenta-haired woman, as well as her own older sister.
Then, Ramia turned her eyes to Ayeka, who quietly took her place with Tenchi and his unified front. Her ruby gaze fell disappointedly on her clique of former friends, and that judgment weighed on the shoulders of the Juraihelm woman. Standing with such legends from Jurai’s history, Ayeka’s silence spoke greatly.
Yet, the princess gently extended her hand toward her old friend, an offer to remain with this new group.
With a calming breath, Ramia stood proud and faced Kiriko.
“I think I’ll stay,” she declared clearly.
Kiriko narrowed her eyes. “As you wish,” she icily stated before leaving with Hiroshi and Mizune in tow.
As the trio left, tensions began to subside among those who remained. Sasami, Rumiya, and Hikari came over to their elder counterparts and started asking questions.
“Are you okay?” Sasami asked her sister.
“What was that about?” Rumiya inquired of his sibling.
“Is she actually a pirate?” Hikari questioned Sagami.
While the Juraians began discussing among themselves, Ryoko held her arms and walked toward Ryo-Ohki. Her crystalline partner too asked similar questions to the children.
Why did they act like that? the sentient ship asked.
Jurai isn’t really a place for us, she admitted. Never really was.
But, her ally argued, we helped save this place, didn’t we?
To some people, she replied, that doesn’t matter.
As she reached her vessel, she felt someone take her hand. Without turning, she knew immediately who he was.
“Are you alright?” Tenchi asked with clear concern for her.
“Yeah,” she lied with a flat, frozen tone, “just fine.”
With a heavy sigh, Tenchi shook his head. “You don’t have to shut us out.”
Intellectually, the former pirate knew she could be open with Tenchi, maybe even others from their peculiar family on Earth. However, a deep part of her refused and stopped the words from leaving her throat. The thief inside her would not allow her to show how those vicious words cut her, never to show a perceivable weakness. She had already felt out of place, and now, she seemed more exposed. While she never minded being the center of attention for her antics, the disdain from those Juraians took her to a unpleasant place she had not been in some time.
Honestly, she just wanted to melt into the shadows, to disappear from this ungrateful planet.
So, she fell back on a well-practiced skill.
Spinning back to her beloved prince, she laughed to herself and fabricated, “It’s nothing, Tenchi. Don’t worry so much!” She forced a smile and waved him off, saying, “I’m just gonna run and get a drink! I’ll be back later, after all the stuffed shirts have cooled off, or loosened themselves up.”
He glanced to the side and considered her words, and she could see that the concern for her had not truly lessened. Though she admired and was charmed by his concern and truthful nature, she cursed that he has become increasingly able to see through her facades. She could tell that he did not fully believe her as his eyes met hers again.
“Okay, Ryoko,” he conceded. “If you want, we can talk when you get back.”
A warmth filled her chest at his voluntary suggestion. About eight months ago, shortly before the acquittal of her crimes, Tenchi had visited her, and they had just talked about their then-current predicament, but also about her parents. She smirked at the memory of coaxing him into drinking with her for information, but the smirk became a genuine smile on her lips at the thought of another such talk.
“Yeah,” she agreed, “I’d like that.”
The former pirate watched his concern finally lessen as he nodded in silent concordance with her. She held in her mind the image of his subtle smile back to her while she vanished from his sight and reappeared on Ryo-Ohki’s bridge. There, she gazed down at assembled friends who had supported her against those bigoted Juraians.
But, as much as they cared for her, she needed solitude now, and a stiff drink.
Within the hour, Ryoko pushed open the doors to Fritz Kellner’s establishment, as she did in Jezibel Kimitan’s illusion, and made her way to the bar. Ryo-Ohki, in her cabbit form, sat atop her mistress’s shoulder while the latter ordered her Heliotropan sake. Both heard the murmurs behind them, and Ryo-Ohki glanced back with a curious mew. Her amber eyes widened to see the huntress Nagi approaching slowly, her crimson eyes burning beneath her cowl. Telepathically, the furry creature warned her mistress, but Ryoko merely took a heavy breath, knowing such a confrontation was inevitable.
“I knew you weren’t dead,” Nagi declared as people filed out behind her.
A larger white cabbit sat atop the cloaked woman’s shoulder. A male of the same species as Ryo-Ohki, Ken-Ohki had a faceted yellow gemstone on his forehead, unlike the smooth red jewel in hers. His crimson eyes were not too dissimilar from his mistress’s, though he looked down and away from Ryo-Ohki, knowing his mistress’s purpose here.
Ryoko sipped her sake and responded, “No, not dead, but I’m not on your menu either.”
The huntress scowled, “I heard about your pardon. I never thought you’d receive one so easily.”
The former pirate stood. “Call it ‘good behavior’.” Turning to face her archrival, she continued, “I bet you’re just brokenhearted. Aren’t you, Nagi?”
Unlike the illusion, however, Nagi pushed aside her cape, revealing her purple and black combat attire and her weapons: her saffron rapier and the sky blue of a hilt attached to a red strap just above her knee. Ryoko knew well that hilt could create a whip composed of tactile and flexible photons, one she had tasted before. Moreover, Nagi’s athletic physique enabled her to match or exceed the Ryoan woman, to say nothing about her skilled swordsmanship.
“We have a score to settle, Ryoko.”
The former pirate smirked as she poured herself another shot of sake. “No, I don’t think we do. There’s no bounty on my head. There’s no warrant for my arrest. You have no claim, bounty hunter. I’m a free woman, and I came here for a drink, not harassment.”
Ryo-Ohki could see the glower darken Nagi’s already shaded visage. Ken-Ohki meowed to his beloved to warn her of the coming slap. The brown cabbit saw the hand swinging up and quickly hopped onto the bar, while sending a burst thought of “Look out!” to her mistress.
Ryoko received the thought swiftly enough to pause her cup’s journey to her lips, just in time for Nagi’s hand only to knock the cup from her hand, rather than hit her face. As the cup clattered on the floor, people began to scurry out of the room while the huntress spat her venomous words at the former pirate.
“I’m far from done with you, you Ryoan pirate bitch! You were born a Ryoan pirate, and you will die as one. That is who and what you are. You leave destruction in your wake, a ‘demon caller’ just like your name.”
The cyan-maned fury felt each word hit her. Her eyes dilated. Her fingers gathered into fists. Sparks of scarlet arced across the backs of her hands. After tolerating the vicious words of the nobles on Jurai, her patience for verbal attacks had waned substantially. A deep, primal part of her craved a fight, and Nagi was clearly ready and willing to give her one.
However, Ryo-Ohki pleaded with her telepathically, Don’t! We just got acquitted! Nagi’s the one in the wrong this time!
Ryoko could feel her own teeth clenching. Intellectually, she knew Ryo-Ohki was right. She should not sate her anger, nor Nagi’s own desires.
Moreover, Ken-Ohki was mewing much the same to her mistress. He too knew she was the aggressor here and had no grounds for her aggression in this public place.
Before either woman could engage, a male voice interjected, “Ladies, if I may.”
Both Ryoko and Nagi turned their ire toward a man who rose from a nearby table. His attire was almost entirely black, except for a few highlights of red on his wrists and ankles, which drew more attention to his face. His features were not unlike those of the two women: amber feline eyes, short green hair spiked back and away from his face, and elfin ears which had been listening to their spat. By his height and the lines in his face, the man seemed a few years older than both women, roughly in his thirties.
With him at his table was a younger woman, comparable in age to Ryoko or Nagi. She was dressed much the same as him, though she remained seated for the moment. She too shared similar physical features to her male companion: copper-tinged feline eyes, shoulder-length red hair tied in a low spiky ponytail behind her head, and pronounced elfin ears. She folded her arms and smiled to herself, clearly entertained by the exchange before her.
In hindsight, Ryoko noticed a distinct similarity between their clothing and those of the Juraian knights. The attire hung loose, allowing for freedom of movement, but not so loose as to be baggy or detrimental to motion. Their clothes seemed traditional, using knots and wrappings rather than modern clasps or fastenings.
Unlike the Juraians, however, these two strangers had fewer ornate designs on their costumes. The knights of Jurai had decorative loops around their arms and short capes attached to their shoulders. These newcomers kept their dress far more simple and streamlined, lacking any identifying insignia for affiliation.
Nagi glared at the man and retorted, “You may not! This is a private matter between us.”
The man raised a placating hand and nodded, “Yes, I can tell, but women with such fire in their veins could be using that flame for a better purpose than fighting each other.”
Ryoko narrowed her eyes. She had heard similar words before, during the Manhattan incident eight months ago.
“Let me guess,” she remarked, “‘a daughter of Ryua should know her fealty’, right?” Her lip curled as she spat back, “You don’t know me.”
Nagi pulled back her hood to reveal her hairband, holding back her spikes of purple hair. A black mark, not unlike those upon the faces of the Juraian knights, crossed her left cheek and down along the left side of her neck.
“Indeed,” the huntress agreed, “I am no daughter of that wretched planet.”
The man shook his head and countered, “Simple genetics disagree with you both. You can never outgrow your ancestry, no matter how much you choose to ignore it.”
Ryoko glanced toward Nagi for a moment, considering the implication that the bounty hunter had a similar lineage to herself. In hindsight, the revelation that they shared a mother clarified the statement, meaning that the man knew before accosting them both.
In this moment, however, the former pirate grasped the opportunity to withdraw from the situation. “Look. I came here to drink, not get into a fight or a debate. How about I leave, and you two can argue about ‘daughters of Ryua’ or whatever?”
Ryo-Ohki hopped onto Ryoko’s shoulder as the pair vanished and reappeared near the door, teleporting the distance across the room. However, the redheaded female also teleported from her seat to stand in front of the former pirate, blocking her way.
The male glanced back over his shoulder with a heavy sigh. “Sadly, Ms. Ryua, I must insist. Yoko, please handle her.”
Yoko, the red-haired young woman, nodded as she cracked her knuckles and acknowledged, “On it, Master Yukishi.”
Nagi then deftly drew her rapier and turned toward the male, Yukishi. “Ryoko is my prey!” she declared as Ken-Ohki leaped onto the floor and hissed at the man.
“No,” he replied, his attention pivoting back to the huntress, “not anymore.”
The purple-haired woman lunged at her black-clad adversary, her blade preceding her, aimed for his chest. However, he spun to her right, letting her miss entirely. When she sidestepped to swipe again, he slid just out of her weapon’s path. As he moved, a cylindrical device fell from his sleeve into his hand. When Nagi advanced for another swing, he raised his arms, the device extending to either side of his hand to form a staff. The huntress’s blade clashed against the staff, which Yukishi used to thrust her back.
While Nagi’s eyes reevaluated the threat before her, her opponent commented, “Your skill is wasted on hunting mere bounties. You have far more potential.”
“My life is my choice,” she retorted as she took her whip in her off-hand and readied to engage again. “Who are you to judge?”
Yukishi twirled his staff to his side and aligned it along his arm. His eyes met hers as he answered calmly, “Someone who knows your birthright, both of them.”
A chill raced down Nagi’s spine before a sneer curled her lip. “You know nothing!” she spat before thrusting her sword forward.
Meanwhile, Ryoko’s gaze scanned over Yoko while Ryo-Ohki hissed and hopped to the floor near her mistress. The former pirate recognized the teleportation gimmick, which together with the physical features like feline eyes and elfin ears drew her to a conclusion.
“You’re both from Ryua, right?” the cyan-maned fury deduced.
“Born and bred,” Yoko acknowledged as she summoned dark crimson beams of light toward her palm. “And trained.”
Ryoko took a step back, raising a brow. “‘Trained’, eh?”
The redheaded Ryoan grinned proudly as she nodded. “I’m not some pirate, who knocks over banks or peasant ships.”
Her hand clasped around the energy in her hand to mold it into a broadsword. The ethereal weapon consisted of three components floating in unison around Yoko’s hand: a spiked pommel, a spherical hilt, and a beveled blade extending roughly 80 centimeters from the hilt. The black-clad woman confidently slid her right foot behind her, raising the implement of harm along her arm and chest. Her motion was clearly practiced with few flaws in her form.
A chill raced down Ryoko’s spine. She had seen that form of energy blade before, as well as the tactical posture, though long before she came to Earth. While she did not remember in the moment, hindsight and context allowed her to recollect.
That’s how Mom stood, she mused retroactively.
Though she did not recognize the stance in the moment, years of brawling had taught her to know a coiled viper. Yoko’s focus was solely on her amber-eyed target, muscles straining to spring forward with all force.
But, Ryoko had faced plenty of snakes in her criminal career, trained and not. She tipped her head to the side slightly and locked gazes with her adversary. She let her body relax, just waiting to react when the attack came. Her fingers flexed at her sides, sparks of ruby lightning flickering between them.
“Come on,” Ryoko taunted. “Show me ‘training’.”
Yoko’s eye twitched just before she launched forward, and Ryoko vanished before the crimson blade could touch her. The cyan-maned woman reappeared beside the younger Ryoan and grabbed the wrist and shoulder of her sword arm. Ryoko slammed her opponent toward the wall next to the bar’s front door, but Yoko raised her free arm to soften the impact, sparing the air in her lungs. The former pirate, however, immediately punched her squarely in the shoulder, again of her sword arm.
Before Ryoko could land another blow, Yoko teleported a distance away and grasped her shoulder. The black-clad Ryoan woman scowled while the acquitted criminal laughed to herself.
“Were you ‘trained’ to get your ass kicked?” Ryoko needled.
Embarrassment flushed Yoko’s cheeks as she formed a second sword in her free hand. Black marks bled down the sides of her face along her temples and jawline, manifesting alongside her increased energy output. She clashed the two weapons, dark crimson filaments sparking between the two blades.
“Shut your damned mouth, pirate!” she cursed.
Grinning to herself, Ryoko formed her own sword, shaped with a slimmer profile, far more reminiscent of a katana than a claymore.
“Make me,” the former pirate challenged, motioning toward herself with her free hand.
Yoko disappeared and then reappeared to Ryoko’s left, but the former pirate likewise teleported away before the two broadswords carved through two nearby tables. The black-clad Ryoan retook a defensive posture before her attention was drawn to her enemy’s voice back near the door.
“Over here!” Ryoko sang tauntingly.
Yoko turned her copper eyes toward the door to find Ryoko leaning against the doorframe. Before the latter could quip again, the younger woman levitated and flew at her enemy, swords aimed to strike. Ryoko threw her blade at her opponent, who spun in her flight to knock the energy blade aside with one weapon. Elegantly, Yoko twisted her aerial spin into a strike at Ryoko with her second sword. The former pirate stepped back from the attack, yet the trained Ryoan crouched into a sweep at her enemy’s legs.
This time, Yoko’s foot connected with Ryoko’s shins and pulled the latter’s balance from her. Surprised, Ryoko started to tumble, but she quickly vanished to reappear a short distance away, recovering her footing.
Yoko grinned as she retook her stance. “Not so cocky now?”
The cyan-maned woman narrowed her eyes, but still smiled back. Part of her, the side that craved excitement and danger, was relishing the fight. Long had it been since she had a chance to let her aggressions out in full. Moreover, regardless of Yoko’s twin swords or flashy spins, her inexperience showed like a beacon, and her pride demanded to be humbled.
“I’m still standing, poser,” Ryoko spat back while she reforged her energy blade. “Try harder.”
Yoko’s grin soured into a frown before darting at her adversary once more.
Across the room, Yukishi parried Nagi’s rapier strikes with the tip of his staff, his eyes flitting between her gaze and her weapon. After one forceful slash, the huntress slid away from her opponent and flicked the wrist of her offhand. The device she held in her left hand produced a ribbon of lavender light, a fierce whip which snapped toward Yukishi. The Ryoan man raised his staff to guard, and the ribbon lashed around the polearm.
His amber eyes met the bloody color of hers as she raised her rapier to point directly at him. A purple glow emerged from its tip, revealing a photonic weapon hidden within her blade. When she fired, he rotated his staff to deflect the shots, though limited by her whip. Then, one shot was deflected downward to snap her whip, freeing his staff, which he twirled back into a far more useful posture.
Yukishi smiled with a nod to himself. “Clever,” he commented. “Your skill with a sword is impressive, as is your aim.”
Nagi watched him coldly. Despite her fury at having her confrontation with Ryoko interrupted, she knew better than to underestimate an opponent, particularly one with an ally so close at hand. She had little doubt that if one of Yukishi or Yoko fell into trouble, the other would intervene. The professional lone wolf had deduced, much like Ryoko had, that Yukishi and Yoko were native to Ryua. Consequently, they had innate abilities much like those Ryoko possessed: teleportation, flight, energy constructs, and incorporeality. Glancing to the side, Nagi could see the younger of the two already using many of those powers.
Yet, Yukishi refrained. He used only the staff to fight her, neglecting all the traits of his species.
“Ohne regimen?” Nagi mused.
“Keen insight,” the black-clad foe replied, “but incorrect. My abilities are not artificially suppressed.”
“Then, why limit yourself?”
Crimson sparks arced across his knuckles as he answered with his own question, “Why do you? Are you dosing on the oppressor’s drug?”
A scowl furrowed her brows. “I’m not Ryoan, so I don’t have powers to suppress.”
At these words, Yukishi vanished, startling Nagi to spin to her side and raise her blade to block his staff. He alternated, striking with one end of his staff and then the other as he advanced. She clashed her foil against his polearm each time, her speed keeping pace with his.
Then, his weapon swung upward, breaking his rhythm. The huntress swung her sword downward to block, but the force of his strike necessitated her to brace her blade with her offhand. Moreover, his feet left the ground as he launched into the air, flipping her toward the ceiling as well.
However, Nagi tucked herself into the flip and steadied herself, coming to hover in the air a distance away from Yukishi. Her black-clad adversary could only smile wider, pleased, while he floated at a similar altitude.
“Don’t deny who you are. Be proud, daughter of Ryua.”
Nagi could feel the anger seething within her heart: forced to utilize Ryoan flight, called a “daughter of Ryua” for a second time. The black mark crossing her left cheek burned. She closed her eyes and slowly lowered herself to the floor, pushing those emotions aside.
Icily, she retorted, “Ryua has no claim on me.”
Descending himself, he inquired, “If not your mother’s lineage, then…?”
His question was cut off when she snapped her whip at him, which he blocked with his staff. Fury flared in her eyes as she declared, “I am not my lineage. I am Nagi, the greatest bounty hunter in this galaxy, and I will have my prey.”
With a solemn shake of his head, Yukishi replied, “Not today, I’m afraid.”
His staff retracted into its original small, cylindrical state before he pocketed it once again. He shuffled closer toward the huntress, but when she thrust her sword, he pivoted just past her weapon. As she slid away to regain her distance from him, Nagi winced, feeling a sharp prick in the back of her left hand. Glancing down, she saw a small, emptied syringe jutting out from her exposed skin, which she promptly knocked away.
Her crimson eyes went back to Yukishi, who sighed heavily, disappointedly.
“Not a defeat you deserve,” he lamented, “but the goddess calls.”
Ken-Ohki’s eyes widened as he realized his mistress had been injected. He could feel her link to him waiver as her lids became sleepy. When she stumbled, the white cabbit leaped onto her shoulder, using his own levitation ability to ease her down toward one of the many chairs close at hand.
On the other side of the bar, Yoko continued frustratedly to spar with Ryoko. Despite the former’s excellent form and technique, the latter eluded her time and again, mocking her with melodic taunts. Moreover, the ex-pirate’s sword began to stray closer to her opponent’s skin with each exchange. Indeed, while Ryoko lacked formal education in swordsmanship, her lifetime of practical experience was more than compensating for the discrepancy.
The two women separated from another clash, Yoko’s copper eyes dancing with wounded pride and vexation. Ryoko, however, twirled her energy sword and smiled to herself.
“How’s it feel to get your ass handed to you by a ‘some space pirate’?” she needled.
Before the black-clad Ryoan would respond, Yukishi appeared behind Ryoko and likewise dosed her with the same sedative used on Nagi. The former pirate’s blade vanished as she turned to face the man, who stepped away from her quickly weakening hands.
“You bastard!” she spat while she collapsed onto the floor.
“The goddess calls, Ryoko,” he replied. “You rejected our appeal to your heritage, but you will answer regardless.”
Ryo-Ohki hissed as she leaped at Yukishi, her teeth and claws bared to maul the Ryoan man. As he began to react, Yoko threw a bolt of her power at the brown cabbit, and the impact sent the furry creature into the racks of bottles behind the bar. The racks fractured, and the bottles smashed onto the floor around Ryo-Ohki, who remained dazed and injured on the floor.
“Yoko!” Yukishi irately called to his companion. “That was unnecessary! Her familiar is not a threat!”
The younger Ryoan lowered her gaze, her shamed scowl still burning after the exchange with Ryoko. Her swords vanished, as did the marks upon her cheeks while she released her gathered energies.
“Damned pirate,” Yoko cursed under her breath.
“Her profession doesn’t matter,” the older man retorted. “Both she and her half-sister have a lifetime of combat, which you lack. I have taught you a great deal, but I can’t teach you experience.”
He knelt with Ryoko, whose vision and consciousness werewaning. Checking her pulse, he remarked, “Strong, but she’ll be out shortly.” To his ward, he instructed, “Check on her sister.”
Yoko acquiesced and walked toward Nagi, who was already unconscious. However, Ken-Ohki stood atop her lap, hissing venomously, claws and teeth bared with intent to maim. The copper-eyed young woman charged her power to her hand once more.
“Little pest,” she remarked.
A violet light gathered above the gemstone in Ken-Ohki’s forehead, readying to retaliate in kind.
“Reason with him!” Yukishi barked at his student.
Yoko glanced back at her teacher, who hefted Ryoko’s unconscious body onto his shoulder.
“He’s not a brute animal, Yoko,” he explained, “and he has other concerns beyond his mistress.”
After a moment of thought, she nodded and let her collected light vanish. She cracked her neck and turned her attention to Ken-Ohki again. “You like that other feldent, don’t you?”
The white-furred creature glanced toward the bar, and he felt a tug at his heart. He had seen Ryo-Ohki take the hit from the Ryoan woman, but had loyally stayed with Nagi. However, not seeing the other cabbit reemerge, his worries began to grow as he looked back to the aggressor. Conflicted, he growled and hissed at her again.
“Your choice,” Yoko proposed. “Stay here to fight us and certainly lose, or check on her and let us have the half-breed Juraian.”
He glanced back to the bar before he closed his eyes and disappeared, teleporting behind the countertop to find his beloved. Yoko smirked as she scooped Nagi’s body into her arms.
“Good boy,” she snidely quipped.
Yukishi shook his head as he and his ward vanished with Ryoko and Nagi in tow.
In the present, Ryoko raised her head from Ryo-Ohki’s, having shared the memory of the true events in the bar. Aboard the battleship Ken-Ohki, the brown cabbit’s humanoid figure sat across from her mistress, their gazes meeting in their common knowledge.
After that, Ryo-Ohki said telepathically to Ryoko, Ken and I tracked them to their ship. He couldn’t find Nagi, but I could sense you, so we agreed to free you first.
Ken-Ohki’s meows somber meows added, They noticed us shortly after Ryo reconnected with you.
The former space pirate closed her eyes and took a heavy breath, processing all the information. Nagi was her half-sister, and they were both taken by these two black-clad Ryoan agents. Moreover, the huntress was…
“… Half-Juraian?” Ryoko uttered as her amber eyes opened. “Nagi is Juraian?”
Her father is, Ken-Ohki corrected.
Ryo-Ohki’s face raised to a central crystal floating within her beloved’s cabin. Softly, she asked, You knew?
He hesitated before he answered in an ashamed series of meows, Yes. When I bonded with her, I shared her thoughts, and her fury at Ryoko and her father’s family were the strongest emotions within her.
Why didn’t you tell me? the other cabbit asked.
Sadly, Ken-Ohki responded, I was sworn never to speak of it. After we bonded, she rejected everything about her mother and father.
“Everything,” Ryoko echoed, “except me.”
Both forms of Ryo-Ohki lowered their eyes, her feelings conflicted between her affection for her male counterpart and her disbelief at his secrets. The lights in the room lowered with his own dejection and shame for the same.
I’m sorry, Ryo, he apologized.
No more secrets, she said as her amber eyes rose back to his crystal. Though her small cabbit form could express her emotions well enough, her humanoid form visibly appeared serious and mature in her words. Please, Ken.
In his crystal, the image of his cabbit face manifested. However, with the bond between Ryoko and Ryo-Ohki accentuated, the Ryoan woman could see what her partner saw. Instead of the face of the white cabbit, they visualized Ken-Ohki’s face as a male humanoid, not unlike Ryo-Ohki’s ethereal form. His coloration remained intact: red eyes, white fur, yellow gemstone. Ryoko admitted to herself that her partner had chosen a handsome boyfriend. He too was grave in his response, his heart in his words.
I promise, Ryo, he swore to her. No more secrets.
While the pair smiled softly at one another, Ryoko continued to process all the information before her. Nagi had rejected her parents, their mother and her Juraian father, but she still chased her half-sister. The cyan-maned fury had never known any of this, and the huntress had never slipped any hint that they were related by blood.
Ryoko thought back to their first encounter when they were a few years younger. She remembered Nagi’s ferocity, her skill, her taunts, her oozing superiority. The new information recontextualized her actions: fury, nobility, pride, spite.
She briefly thought of Ayeka and their rivalry, noting a few parallels. Ayeka and Nagi had similar physical features: Nagi’s eyes a few shades darker, Nagi’s hair a few shades lighter. Nagi’s cape and its clasps were similar to Juraian designs, and her code of honor had distant echoes of Tenchi’s grandfather. While Ryoko and Ayeka sparred over Tenchi’s affection and their general polar differences, Ryoko and Nagi warred over their sides of the law, at least superficially.
Then, the jade light flashed across Ryoko’s eyes. The images from Jezibel Kimitan’s illusion haunted her: a fake Tenchi’s disgust at her past, her mother passionately embracing a young man much like Tenchi. In her mind, Ayeka and Nagi blurred together with her mother, and Tenchi faded into the male role. She shut her eyes and attempted to shake the conflated image from her head, but it refused to leave.
Ryo-Ohki’s paw pushed against her mistress’s palm.
Are you okay? the furry creature worried through their telepathic connection.
Ryoko nodded and answered, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
What should we do? Nagi is still captured.
Ken-Ohki argued, There are at least three of them: the two Ryoans and the redhaired woman.
“We should go back to Jurai,” Ryoko declared.
To get help? Ryo-Ohki inquired.
The Ryoan woman opened her eyes, which were glowing green.
“I have to see something for myself.”