Disclaimer: This stuff is owned by other people, except for the stuff that isn't. If you own the stuff I've used, please do not sue me. Chances are you already have one hell of a lot more money than I do. Wanker. I mean, um... Ghosts and Avatars - Chapter 4 (Random Intersections) Ayeka sighed and drummed her fingers on the pitted reinforced steel surface of the table, watching Mihoshi devour the alien confection she had purchased with gusto. Nobuyuki ate with less enthusiasm, but no actual signs of disgust, which was promising. Somewhat. "What did you say this is called, Mihoshi?" "Mf?" Mihoshi looked up, swallowing a mouthful of the stuff and washing it down with a pull from a canister labeled 'yusuru', with an expression of satisfaction on her face. Ayeka carefully regarded the container that sat before her. It contained a sizable mound of some gelatinous substance, glistening a sickly off-white color. She picked up her spoon and gingerly poked it. It quivered ominously. "It's called wootflar," burbled Mihoshi around another mouthful. "It's great!" Ayeka looked at Nobuyuki and cocked an eyebrow. He shrugged. "Tastes a little like chicken, actually." She sighed. It had been a long day. She was worried sick, starving, exhausted beyond belief. And now she was sitting in possibly the most dangerous place in the galaxy for a person of her stature to be, and she was being asked to consume something that looked remarkably like a huge mound of diseased mucus. Ayeka gave in. She dug her spoon into the mass and popped a piece of the shuddering goo into her mouth. She chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. Amazing, she thought. It really DOES taste like chicken. Ayeka opened her mouth, then stopped as a faint, familiar sound reached her ears. She cocked her head to one side, a look of concentration crossing her disguised features. "Listen," she said. "Do you hear that?" "Hear what?" She stood up. There it was. She could barely hear it, but the sound was unmistakable - the hum, whine, zap and sizzle of a lightsword duel. And it was coming from the direction that Kevin had gone, only minutes before. "I am going to kill him," she said, matter-of-factly, and gestured to her two companions. "Come." Mihoshi and Nobuyuki exchanged glances, shrugged, picked up their wootflar and followed her. This is absolutely ridiculous, thought Kevin, leaping to the side as his opponent's blade swept down in a deadly arc, slicing a vacant table in two. He backed up a few steps and eyed his opponent. The Jurian was calm, a confident smile pasted on his face. Figures, thought Kevin. Most Jurians held the conceit that no alien could defeat a swordsman of Jurai, the race that developed them in the first place. Kinda like the Americans and that 'baseball' thing they play. Kevin skittered away from another thrust as his opponent went on the offensive. He might not be far wrong, thought Kevin. He's not bad. The smell of burnt protein assaulted his nostrils, and a lock of red hair floated to the bar floor. The Jurian grit his teeth and lunged forward, probing for weaknesses in his defense. He lashed out in a series of slashes, which Kevin parried with some difficulty. Striking out with an attack of his own, a quick and nasty jab to his side, he was gratified to see the smirk vanish as the Jurian hastily parried the blow, struggling to regain his balance. Pressing his advantage, Kevin danced forward, unleashing a barrage of blows that backed the Jurian up nearly to the bar. The bartender, Kevin noticed out of the corner of his eye, had taken out a particle rifle and was holding it slung casually against his shoulder. He stepped forward, locking his blade with that of his adversary, and glared at him as the crossed swords hummed and crackled. "I don't want to fight you." A ridiculously exaggerated look of innocence crossed the Jurian's face. "You don't? Gee, maybe we should just have a drink and talk this all over. Gosh darnit." Kevin's eyes narrowed. "Don't think I'd care to drink with a prick like you." "No? If alcohol's too strong for you, we can get you some milk." A few rough guffaws issued from the crowd watching the fight. Kevin grinned. "Really? Sweet. I haven't had any of your mother's for a long time." The guffaws turned to a full throated roar of laughter. The Jurian growled and drove his fist into Kevin's stomach. Kevin, gasping, backed up, holding his sword ready. Ayeka strode into the bar without hesitation as the crowd uttered an appreciative roar. Kevin was fighting hammer and tongs with a somewhat dandyish Jurian and seemed, despite everything, to be enjoying himself. She clucked her tongue in frustration. "Care to make a bet?" asked a low, lazy voice from beside her. "No," said Ayeka, at the exact time that Mihoshi said, "Fifty Jurai on Kevin." Cringing, Ayeka turned to the man who had spoken. He was comparatively short, somewhat stocky. His ears came to a slight point and had a light covering of hair on them, sandy blonde, matching the lank tendrils that fell to nearly his soft brown eyes. Slightly pudgy, he wore a huge floppy hat of an unlikely purple color, a simple tunic and trousers, over which was stretched a synth-leather vest. A pair of heavy-gauge blasters hung from his waist. "Kevin, you say? You know that joker, pretty lady?" "No," said Ayeka. Simultaneously, Mihoshi piped, "Oh, sure!" Ayeka hastily revised her plan of action. She would kill Mihoshi, THEN she would kill Kevin. Kevin grinned ferally. This, he decided, was more like it. He batted aside the Jurian's swing, spinning around to strike him across the jaw backhanded. His opponent grunted, falling back a few steps. He was fast, and had certainly been in his share of duels, but he'd grown lazy, overconfident. Kevin darted in, knocking his sword aside, and ducked under the Jurian's desperate horizontal stroke, lunging up in an uppercut that rattled his teeth. Lashing out with a kick, Kevin brought his sword down, flipping the lightsword from his grasp. It clattered lifeless to the bar floor. The crowd muttered appreciatively, and there was even a light smattering of applause. "Had enough?" said Kevin, breathing heavily and smiling. "Nope," said the Jurian, and withdrew a small pistol from inside his tunic, leveling it at Kevin. "Shit," Kevin muttered. A low murmur went through the bar, the patrons backing up slightly. No one wanted to get too close to a firefight. Suddenly Mihoshi burst from the crowd, her sidearm pointed at the Jurian. "Wouldn't do that," she commented idly. The Jurian looked at her, then at Kevin. "Looks like we have ourselves something of a standoff. Unless your friend drops her weapon, you're dead." "And if I'm dead, you're dead," countered Kevin, extinguishing his sword. "Doesn't sound like a great deal to me, friend." His brow furrowed slightly. "Say. What's your name?" "Chikuri," said the Jurian warily. "Why?" "Just wondering," said Kevin, and smiled. Ryoko gnawed at her lip. Her eyes were riveted to the star chart before her, but there was a far away look to the feline gaze. Washu glanced over at her daughter. "What's up, kid?" "Huh? Nothin'." replied Ryoko quietly. Washu sighed and stretched. "Worried?" Ryoko's brow furrowed. She ran a hand through her tangled cyan hair. "Yeah. A bit." Washu quirked an eyebrow, a sardonic grin crossing her features. Ryoko said silently. replied Washu. "Dammit, Mom," breathed Ryoko. "I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to Tenchi. Go on a murderous rampage for vengeance, I guess, but -" "Yeah, that's about the size of it. Whaddya think Ayeka would do?" "Ayeka?" Ryoko frowned, puzzled. "I dunno. Go back to Jurai, get on with being a princess, I guess. Why?" Washu shrugged. "I suppose I'm interested on what makes him so important to you - to all of us. Interesting how he seems to keep you and Ayeka safe from the sides of yourselves you like least. I wonder what room there is for Kevin in the equation. Hmm?" Ryoko, who had been doing her best to avoid asking herself the same question, shook her head. She didn't know what had happened, what was different, but Tenchi had been filling her thoughts with the same force, the same aching longing for him she'd felt before Kevin. She was conflicted, torn in two, and had no idea what to do next. "Dunno." She looked away. A thought struck her. "Say, Mom, what side of yourself does Tenchi keep you safe from?" An expression Ryoko had never seen on Washu's face before crossed her features, severe and unusually sober, gone in an instant, replaced by her usual cocky smirk. "Heh. If there's anything needs keeping safe from the greatest scientific mind in the universe, it's the universe. C'mon, let's get back to work - these jump points ain't gonna trace themselves, y'know." Kevin sat at the last table intact in the bar and nursed his drink, grinning from ear to ear. That little rumble was more fun than he'd had in a long, long time. And to top it all off, somehow the bartender had come by a case of Terran beer, which Kevin had added to the bill for damages. Life, he decided, was pretty good for the moment. He reached down, twisted the cap off another bottle and handed it deferentially to Nobuyuki, over Ayeka's unconscious form. "Thanks for your help, Nobuyuki. You're a great man to have at your back in a brawl. Where'd you learn to rough and tumble like that?" Nobuyuki shrugged and grinned. "I wasn't always an old architect, you know. One of my old friends from high school taught me all I'll ever need to know about bar fights." He pointed with authority at the bar stool's lower end. "That," he said solemnly, "is the ouchie bit." He took a pull from the beer and grimaced. "What kind of beer is this?" "Bud," said Kevin. "It ain't Canadian, but it'll do in a pinch..." Ayeka suddenly opened her eyes. She looked up at Kevin, and then down at herself. She was sprawled out on the table, arms and legs splayed out over the side, her head resting on a small icepack. She closed her eyes. "I know there is an exceedingly good reason I am in this undignified position. I am waiting patiently for someone to give me that explanation. And if I don't get it soon, I know two people who will spend the rest of their lives on Jurai's most unpleasant prison planet." Nobuyuki and Kevin, who had started to chortle at Ayeka's speech, stopped abruptly. "Well..." began Kevin. "Just wondering," Kevin said, and smiled. "Hey, Chikuri!" bellowed a voice from behind the Jurian. He looked, reflexively, and turned just in time to be hit in the nose with the business end of a barstool. His weapon discharged, reflecting off some unseen barrier to ricochet into the ceiling. He wobbled for a second, then slowly collapsed to the floor. For a second, just a second, the bar stared at Nobuyuki, wielder of the bar stool. Nobuyuki looked back at them, his expression flitting through a succession of emotions, including exultation, sheepishness, nervousness and finally fear. A glass arced from out of the crowd, shattering at his feet. "Bar brawl!" someone gleefully shouted, and the mob rushed into the empty space with a sound not entirely unlike a thunderclap. "...and, er, the rest is history. Nobuyuki and I holed up behind the bar, and Mihoshi just seemed to get through the whole thing without a scratch on her. You got coldcocked. Um. How you feeling?" Ayeka glared at him. Half glared, anyway, as she was holding the ice pack over what was shaping up to be one hell of a shiner. "I cannot even begin to enumerate the indignities heaped upon my person today." Kevin scratched at his nose. "Huh. Sorry I asked." He reached into the pocket of his trench coat, fishing for his cigarettes. "What was the purpose of that absurd exercise? Now we cannot even locate whatever it was you hoped to find here." "No sweat. All we have to do is wait for someone to wake up." Ayeka looked around skeptically. The bar was a wreck. The few furnishings that hadn't been reduced to splinters by flying bodies had been used as makeshift clubs or, in the case of the larger races, projectiles. Limp bodies were scattered about the room. Some issued the occasional moan. Mihoshi poked amongst the rubble. "Hey, guys, I think this one's waking up," she called. A weak groan issued from underneath a broken table. "Excuse me, but I think the bar landed on my head. A little assistance here?" called a muffled voice. Kevin blinked. "No way. I'd know that whine anywhere." Mihoshi helped the man to his feet, and Ayeka's heart sank when she recognized the little bookie Mihoshi had been conversing with. Kevin stood up. "Aji?" The rotund man turned, gaping, to face Kevin. He raised his arms to the heavens, let out a wild whoop, and crossed the bar in a single bound, picking Kevin up by his midsection and twirling him around. "Easy, easy!" laughed Kevin. Aji released him and looked up at him, a wide grin pasted on his soft features. "Kenkyaku Ankoku. Never thought I'd see your ugly face 'round here again." Kevin shook his head. "It's Kevin now. Kevin Walker. I gave up that name when I left home." "Ah." Aji sobered suddenly. "And how is...your family?" Kevin just shook his head. Aji nodded, gripped Kevin's shoulder. Ayeka cleared her throat suddenly, breaking the tableau. "Whoops. Where'd my manners go?" "Probably the same place you left your common sense." "Guys, this is Ajina Akkan," continued Kevin, ignoring Ayeka. "Aji, this is Nobuyuki, Mihoshi, and Ay-" He hesitated. Unlike Terrans, Jurians held a serious taboo against naming children after members of the royal family - no way could be use her real name. "Ayane," he finished "Charmed," Ajina said, bowing low. Mihoshi giggled. "Listen, Aji, we need your help," Kevin began. Ajina groaned. "I knew it." He sat heavily at the table, snagging a beer. "One moment it's all hi Aji, how ya doing, lookin' good, and then you hit me up for a favor. After trashing the Legs, I might add. You haven't changed a bit." He drained half the beer in one gulp, and blinked, smacking his lips distastefully. "What the hell IS this?" "Later. Ajina, we're really in trouble." "You're ALWAYS in trouble, Ken - Kevin. It's in the genes, I think." He shook his head mournfully. "And, once again, I gotta bail you out. So whattya need?" "We're...looking for someone," said Ayeka hesitantly. "Mmm. Coming through here? How illegal is this person?" Kevin and Ayeka exchanged glances. "He's not," replied Kevin. "He's a person who would be valuable to any number of illegal activities." Ajina eyed him warily. "Is this political? PLEASE don't tell me this is political." Kevin opened his mouth. It would have been nice to say no. "Maybe," he admitted. Ajina nodded. "Bugger," he said, and sighed. "All right. We'll talk about it. That's it - just talk. I'm not getting involved in political intrigues." "Fair enough." Ajina got to his feet, draining the rest of the beer. "We'll talk on my ship - sounds like you got yourselves a bit of a sensitive situation goin' on. No tellin' what ears might be listening. C'mon." He jammed his hat, now somewhat battered, on his head. "And bring this...this...whatever it is," he added, waving at the case of Bud. "I'll probably be wanting to drink at least half of it." On the bridge of Ryo-Ohki, a soft ping sounded. On the jump-point map, several new points appeared at the extreme edge of the image. "Great," muttered Ryoko. "Six - seven new signatures to deal with. Ryo-Ohki, edit 'em out, will you?" "Wait," said Washu, frowning. "Why'd they jump in so far from the station?" "I don't know. Maybe their coordinates were off...?" As she said it, Ryoko became suspicious. That didn't ring true. Jumps with inaccurate coordinates were insanely dangerous - it could land you anywhere, into a star, in the core of a planet. It was a mistake pilots simply didn't make. "Ryo-Ohki, scan and magnify." "Miya!" The picture wavered and disintegrated, swiftly replaced with a picture of seven large ships hanging silently in the void - ships whose design were instantly recognizable. There was only one race in the galaxy that made craft like that. "Jurian cruisers? The hell...?" gasped Ryoko. Washu tapped a few keys on her holotop. "They're running silent. We never woulda noticed them if we hadn't been scanning for jump points. It's a sure bet the Watarimono doesn't know they're here." "Awww, nuts. It's a raid. This is the last thing we need." She reached over and tapped a crystal next to her command chair. "Hey, Ayeka," she said. She waited. "Ayeka? Ayeka, come in, dammit! AYEKA!" The small, rectangular black communicator that had until recently been tucked in Ayeka's cloak lay on the floor of the bar. It was half smashed, having been trod on during the brawl, and the voice that issued from it was so static-ridden and weak that it was impossible to make out the words. The bartender picked it up, looking at it quizzically, perhaps considering whether it was repairable. After a few moments he shrugged and tossed it into the waste receptacle. AUTHOR'S NOTE: I must be on a roll...I didn't realize how long this chapter was getting. Perhaps a little short on action, but don't you worry your cute lil' heads, it's coming. As always, please send me your criticisms and comments - OR DIE! I mean, um...I'm at kakapo101@hotmail.com, and the rest is all lies. Honest.