Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Wild Horses & Pokeboys (DARK) ❯ One-Shot

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

WILD HORSES & POKEBOYS
(an alternative angle)

It was said (by some) that WH&Pg couldn't stick to a single atmosphere, and that it was entirely enamored of the slavegirl concept. Certainly that's true in some fics set in the pokegirl world. The original concept in Pokegirls was that this was a DARK world, one that was thoroughly nasty and evil in a lot of ways though it was in the process of stabilizing and coming more into the light. (i think i captured that a lot more with the side stories than the main due to thse being shorter and that i could write those without trying to deal with the other visions that people were inserting due to the relative slow speed of my writing.)

In the interest of fairness here's a brief look at the flip side.

This was originally exclusive to the Pokewomon forum, however, that has changed hands due to Pirate's retirement from the genre for basically the same reasons i did.

------------

Ranma tried to control his breathing.

Since coming to this damn world, right after running like blazes from the panda that had been his father, Ranma had dreamed of escaping.

"There's a patrol coming, quiet," advised Isaac.

The human boy nodded and watched as the women went by. They were obviously looking for the escaped slaves.

"Quickly now," said Isaac, gesturing. "We'll only have one chance at this."

The dimension traveller ducked after the mouse-type and tried not to get his hopes up.

Seven years since he'd shown up.

Six years since he'd been paraded around in a cage as the "pre-Linda" human male through most of the Beauty League.

Five years since the pit fighting circuit he'd been put on once the novelty of his appearance had worn off. He'd started fighting "furries" like Stallions and Minotaurs, graduated to Hunks and Jocks, and finally gone up against the more powerful enhanceds. He'd lost a *lot* of fights, but never been killed and then he'd started winning fights.

Four years since he'd been beaten so badly that it had looked like he'd be demoted to field worker. He just hadn't been handsome enough for bedslave duty, and unlike his first friend in this world - not useful enough if rendered to parts.

Three years since the best friend he'd had since coming here - a mouse-type named Gyro, had ended up killed and "rendered." Gyro had had such soft and silky fur. One of the Mistresses had fancied it. Some had gone into her boots, some into her gloves, she'd made a toilet seat cover out of the rest. Gyro, the gentle soul who had offered Ranma part of his dinner that first year in the pits, had screamed for hours.

Two years since Ranma had learned that for all pokeboys being unable to harm their Mistresses, for all their programmed obedience, that there was indeed an Underground.

One year since Ranma Saotome had quietly vanished into that Underground.

In all that time he'd learned many things.

That in 1994, a woman named Linda McKenzie had broken into a lab and understood the possibilities of what she had found and brought others in on the strange technologies uncovered. That in 1995 a worldwide plague had been released by a splinter group of radical feminists. That in 1997, there was less than a thousand male humans left alive.

In 1999, the New World Order came to power. The few remaining males had been rounded up "for their own protection" - though the knowledge that they'd been quietly eliminated after that hadn't been known until over a generation later.

This was a world where womyn ruled. Pokeboys had first been released as a surrogate male for those womyn who still preferred the company of males for some things. As that number decreased - slave labor was the usual destination.

Males weren't human after all. Not as beautiful or intelligent or compassionate or inherently correct as womyn were. Males were animals, necessary for the first part of womyn's evolution - but they were past that stage now. It didn't do to get too affectionate with one's animals - spoiling one's pet or slave gave them strange ideas.

Most males were put to death as soon as their usefulness was outlived.

Yes, Ranma had gotten quite an education.

Following Isaac and the others, Ranma knew darn well that the mouse-type and this group had a less than selfless motive for assisting him. If this worked, Ranma would return home. Not alone though. Not by a long shot.

These wanted out. Some wore the special collars womyn had developed that locked around their necks. A touch on a special button, and a little set of injectors would spear into tender flesh and release a deadly quick acting poison. Ranma had been trained with a collar that used a pain-causing poison. He'd been trained to do farm work, and to fight, and to do domestic work for the Mistresses.

IF a door could be opened, Ranma could escape before his collar would be activated. He could even remove it fairly easily. Back in his home universe, he could potentially survive beyond the age of forty. Back in his home universe, he wouldn't be property. Neither would Isaac or the others.

After a long slow crawl, Ranma realized Isaac had stopped in the room ahead. Cautiously, he continued on - having learned long ago that the womyn were capable of setting traps - it was their preferred way of doing things in fact.

A couple of the big muscular Jocks were standing around, looking as befuddled as ever. Developed for a low body fat percentage, a lot of muscle mass, and an IQ barely better than a box of rocks, the Jocks were essentially weightlifters with the minds of children. Independent thought was rare for them and usually signs of a "defective model". One of the two actually *was* a defective model - Jock 42 looked identical to all the other Jocks but was actually just fairly dumb as opposed to a complete moron.

The Studs were something else. None of them made it into the Underground. With their sexual organs so huge and their insatiable sexdrives, all a woman would have to do was ask one question and he'd babble off all their secrets to get a chance in the sack.

Nerds were rarer. Partly because they were carefully watched to prevent them from showing signs of independence. Partly because they weren't as useful outside of their specialty. Most Ladies had a pokeballed Nerd, but only let him out when she really needed something of a technical nature done.

That there were three Nerds in the room wasn't a surprise to Ranma. Nearly the entire Underground was now here in the room. Isaac the Mouseboy - a genius by the standards of his race. The Nerds who only had number designates officially but secretly had given themselves names long ago: Adam, Joe, and Marcus. The other Mouseboys: Dan, Keron, Hika, Squee, and Bar. The Dogsoldier Stinky.

With Ranma's arrival, Isaac began hooking up the equipment. After a tense moment the Mouseboy broke out in a grin. "It works. I've got his quantum variance isolated. Powering up the gateway."

The tension cut from the air and several of the pokeboys sagged in obvious relief.

Ranma glanced over at one of the few friends he'd made since arrival. Keron essayed a smile. "Is it nice to be free, Ranma?"

"Yeah, it's great," reassured Ranma. When he'd first seen Keron he'd thought that Gyro had somehow escaped. Not completely intact, but escaped.

"Keron misses Mistress, she wasn't bad as far as Mistresses go," said Keron with his remaining eye tearing up. "She let me go rather than put me to sleep."

"Yeah," said Ranma. Most girls were so concerned with appearances that they'd never do something nice for a guy because of how it would look. Keron's former Mistress had turned him loose after a visiting guest had torn half his face off when he'd tripped and spilled soup on her. Rather than put the "defective and disfigured" Mouseboy "to sleep" as was normal, he'd been told to go find the Underground.

"Keron wonder if Mistress is all right," Keron said sadly. "Ranma, promise me."

"Promise you what, Keron?" Ranma's attention was mainly on the doorframe now humming with power.

"If Mistress is in your world, you'll check and make sure she's OK? She risk much to help Keron. She nice to Keron when other Mistress not look." Keron looked up at the taller human. "You promise?"

"I don't even know her name or what she looks like," protested Ranma. "Besides, why can't you do it?"

"Keron not good at fighting," said the Mouseboy, limping slightly as he moved to get a better look at their hopes forming in the doorframe. "Mistress named Hotaru. Hotaru Tomoe."

"Hmmm," said Ranma as the glow increased until he could see a distorted scene through the doorway.

"EVERYONE SURRENDER! RESISTANCE IS USELESS!"

One of the Jocks immediately hit the ground and began blubbering. Ranma leapt through the doorframe as the womyn burst through the chamber.

Ranma hit the dirt on the other side and leapt to the side. Now he had a clear view of anyone following him. All that time pit fighting had not been a waste: he could kill and had done so in the past with a single punch.

Keron staggered through the doorframe, a dart showing on his back. Shortly after that the swirling doorway produced a gout of flame as one of Isaac's explosives went off.

Ranma lowered Keron to the ground, pulling the poison dart away in disgust.

"Did we make it?" Keron's eye wasn't focussed on anything in particular. "Are we there?"

The martial artist had come to terms with things like emotions over the past few years. "Yeah, Keron. We made it."

"Keron free?"

"Yup. No womyn anywhere nearby."

The Mouseboy couldn't see the tears in his friend's eyes obviously. "Ranma was right. Freedom beautiful. Keron happy."

Ranma held his friend briefly, then laid him down and closed that staring eye. "Yeah, Keron. Beautiful."

"RANMA! You worthless boy, where have you... been... hiding..." Genma's voice slowed to a stop as he saw the monster lying on the ground. Admittedly it was only four and a half feet tall, but the humanoid mouse had to be a monster, didn't it?

"Later, Pops. I gotta give a friend a send off at least. Lemmee see your camp shovel."

Genma was briefly silent, watching as his son dug a grave swiftly with what looked like very practiced strokes. Which was when he noticed something else. "Ranma! You're crying like some little girl! Urk!"

Ranma had lifted his father up, one hand clutching the heavier man's throat. "Don't you *ever* call me that again, old man!"

--------------

Genma had considered broaching the nearby training ground of Jusenkyo.

Genma had considered insulting his son and trying to get him to spar.

Genma had considered asking a lot of questions of *why* Ranma had been gone for maybe fifteen minutes only to show up again five years older, leaner, meaner, and weeping over some furred monster.

Genma was an idiot in many things and in many ways. However he was not without his points. Life with the Master had increased his danger sense levels. The appearance of that *thing* had been enough to shock Genma into actually using the sort of intelligence that had come up with the Yamasenken and Umisenken.

Fact: Ranma was older, tougher, and carried himself as a "manslayer." Not an assassin, but as someone who had routinely been involved in life-and-death bloodsport and had come out scarred but alive. It was in the eyes - not the eyes of an easily bullied or inexperienced youth, but someone who could kill without a qualm and had done so.

Fact: Ranma had shed tears about the "monster" and had gone to great trouble to not only dig the grave but then conceal it. Not a casual emotionless calm killer then.

Fact: Ranma's shirt coming off to dry it had revealed scars. Ranma had been whipped. Quite a few times over a long period. There were fewer along his front than his back, but there were a few there too.

Fact: When Genma had mentioned a tribe of women warriors nearby, the elder Saotome could feel the palpable hatred in the air. Genma had backpedaled by saying that women warriors couldn't have anything special. Ranma had disagreed and had gone on in long detail about the vicious sex. Heck, they weren't *that* bad. Well, not all of them. Once you got out of civilization, some of them might be a bit like that.

Conclusion? Genma didn't have a clue. Nothing made any sense.

So there was only one thing to do. Drag Ranma off to see the Tendos, once there he'd announce the marriage. Soun would have raised a nice, gentle, traditional girl - who could then convince Ranma that whatever he had against women wasn't applicable.

Genma nodded to himself. A perfect plan.

----------

Ranma sat there almost as still as if he'd been turned to stone. Finally he turned to his father and said in a clear calm voice: "You're shitting me."

Kasumi looked offended. Nabiki and Akane shut up. Even Soun stopped weeping.

"Ranma, you will do this, it is a matter of family honor," said Genma with a trace of nervousness. Ranma had really changed and the more time Genma had observed his son the more this change had become obvious. Ranma was rarely light-hearted now, seldom optimistic, and not terribly friendly. He *should* have been desperate for a friend and unsure of himself around women - a situation where Genma could easily predict and control the boy's reactions.

Shock turned to darn near murderous rage in a heartbeat. "Ain't no *way*. Bad enough you drag me here like this, but then you decide I'm some slave to be bred?!"

"Uhm..." Nabiki wanted to point out that this was just some arranged marriage and nobody was talking about slavery. Then again, maybe there was something going on she didn't know about?

Akane heard the slave comment and growled, misinterpreting it. "Pervert."

"I'm leaving, oyaji. You can stay here and 'unite the families' on your own." Ranma got up and suited action to words, ignoring the protests and insults sent in his wake. Honestly, auctioned off to one of three girls like a piece of meat. He'd thought that in his home reality things would be different but it looked like the same sort of crap went on - it just wasn't as obvious.

Well, he didn't need nobody and some *girl* ordering him around wasn't going to be any better here than there.

--------

Two years later:

Trust. Such a fragile thing.

He'd heard of a girl named Hotaru Tomoe, had investigated, and had been prepared to believe that this girl was different from the rest.

When she was threatened, he'd been there - ready to run to her rescue at a moment's notice. Silence Glaive and all to the side, she was still Hotaru. Still the fragile young girl that Keron had spoken of so often. *His* Mistress had been different, *his* Mistress had actually shown she was capable of overcoming her man-hating culture, *his* Mistress had been able to see past maleness and furriness and see a person.

Ranma had begun opening up around these others, just a little. They defended the world. Okay, the monsters looked silly and had stupid attacks. Frankly the whole "magic kingdom" schtick struck Ranma as being pretty lame. Still, they were protectors and warriors and fought for male and female alike. So he'd backed them up when he could, using skills honed through long combat as a pit fighter and then the local street-fighting circuit. Hey, it paid the bills and it was familiar work.

Now this.

"What do you mean, you're gonna rule the world someday?" Ranma glared at Meatball-head and her boy-toy.

Usagi didn't like the way the old angry Ranma had seemed to return upon hearing an innocent comment about Crystal Tokyo. "Uhm... Well, that's what everyone says. And Chibi-usa comes from the future where I'm Queen and Mamo-chan is my Consort..."

"I take it that yer Senshi are the royal guards and stuff?" Ranma frowned. "So it's some woman-ruled queendom? What do you do with guys in this future?"

Usagi winced. Ranma had told Hotaru about the world he'd come from. Hotaru had told Ami. Ami had informed everyone else. Haruka and Michiru had thought that this other world sounded interesting. Everyone else had been properly horrified. "Uhm, well, I don't know..."

"Ya don't know?" Ranma got up, ignoring the glares from some of the Senshi (how dare he talk like that to Usagi?!) to winces from the others (how could we have *not* been more curious about what Crystal Tokyo was really like?) to ready to transform and unleash attacks (Haruka and Michiru). "I think ya had better consider that real careful, Tsukino. I've seen a lotta crap since I got back, and I sure ain't contributing in anything that'll make *this* world like *that* one."

Ami decided to play mediator *before* Haruka could make things worse this time. "You know, I think Ranma has a good point. We should decide some basic issues *before* Crystal Tokyo comes around, don't you agree?"

-----------

Ukyo wasn't sure what to make of this.

Ranma had been happy to see his old buddy. Ranma had need of a friend. Ranma was a misogynist. Not gay, but completely untrusting of women and apt to emphasize their bad qualities.

Ranma had also been quite capable of beating her silly, then using a couple of fenders from a car wrecking yard to tie her into place. That had been quite impressive.

If Ranma learned that his "old buddy" was actually a girl, Ukyo wasn't sure she'd live five minutes past that discovery. If Ranma Saotome had any trust left in him, you could fit it into an eggcup with room to spare.

While pondering this potentially painful problem, Ukyo had run into this little girl with purple eyes looking for "big brother Ranma" and the weirdness factor had escalated dramatically.

Oh sure, Ukyo could reveal that she was a she and destroy what was left of Ranma's ability to trust. Ukyo could get her revenge that way before she was suddenly and spectacularly splattered across the landscape. Ukyo might be a violent obsessive, but she wasn't stupid and could all too easily see those hands that had demonstrated a "punch through an engine block" strike hitting her in the chest. Or maybe he'd rip her arms and legs out of their sockets in the same manner he'd disabled that crane. Getting one's revenge was good, but it was better to find a way to survive that revenge with all one's bodily parts still attached.

Besides, from the sound of it, the hell Ranma and his father had put her through was *nothing* compared to what Ranma had gone through. And purple-eyes had confirmed that there was something to it.

Heck, just seeing Ranma bathing - those scars. Other than his face, Ukyo wondered if there was a square inch of his body that hadn't been burned or pierced or whipped to the point where skin had the consistency of wet toilet paper. Then healed slowly and reopened again and again from the look of it.

No, the flame of hate in Ukyo's heart had gutted when she'd seen physical evidence that her target had gone through tortures beyond anything that she herself would have inflicted. She could have seen killing Ranma and Genma. Putting anyone through *that* level of torture? Ukyo had some kinky fantasies but there were limits.

Ukyo let out a deep breath. There was only one thing she could do. Go after Genma and get the hell away from Ranma. If she wanted to die there were far less painful methods to be around the walking timebomb that was Ranma Saotome - sooner or later everything he'd gone through would erupt and she didn't want to be anywhere near ground zero when it did.

--------

The decision had been made. There had been a lot of arguing and it was the closest thing to a civil war between Outer and Inner Senshi - beating out even some of the things that had occurred during the Pharoah 90 skirmishes.

Crystal Tokyo was the best hope for the world. For peace and safety. If the male gender had to be "put in their place" then that's the way it had to be.

Of course, they all well knew what Ranma's reaction would be on learning this. Which meant that Ranma would have to be dealt with or they'd have someone sniping at them from the sidelines whose power level was sufficient that he *could* potentially kill any of them.

Another potential civil war had erupted, but that Chibi-usa would cease to be if they didn't go along with it was able to cause the Inners to back down.

Mamoru had also been excluded from this discussion as he might object to this whole thing or that he'd end up less a prince than a male concubine - and only one of Neo-Serenity's lovers. Even with Chibi-usa's life a hostage, he might decide the cost too high.

As the argument began winding down, a figure seperated from the shrine office to fade into visibility several blocks away. Ranma glanced back at the shrine once before turning his back on the Senshi and their future figuratively and literally. Obviously he couldn't face them all head-on and if he tried picking them off one by one he couldn't get all of them before they ended his threat.

Right now he was the only thing standing between them and this "Crystal Tokyo" thing. That would have to change but where was he to get allies that could stand against the likes of the Senshi? That Pluto chick could travel through time, Mercury had that computer, Mars could get glimpses of the future. The rest of them were fighters with those elemental magic attacks.

Ranma considered this and realized there was only one place he could think of that would give him allies able to stand against the Senshi's powers. The problem was he had no idea how to get there from here.

Which meant that it had to be entirely done by him. Lousy odds though, particularly as he didn't want to kill any of the Senshi. Well, maybe those two Outers.

The problem was finding an alternative.

-------

They had fallen. One by one, weaknesses exploited and dealt with.

Ami Mizuno - vanished on a trip to Bangkok for a chess tournament.

Setsuna Meiou - missing for six days before someone realized she wasn't at the Gates Of Time.

Rei Hino - who had called a meeting of the Senshi, stating she'd just had a prophetic dream. When everyone had met at the shrine there had been no sign of Sailor Mars.

That had been enough to alarm the rest of the Senshi, especially when the gas bombs had gone off and tranquilizer darts had filled the air around the shrine. During the confusion Sailor Neptune had disappeared.

They had huddled in a circle waiting for the next attack for nearly an hour before it had become obvious even to Sailor Moon that this was not how the war would be played. This enemy knew their secret identities, their powers, and their weaknesses. He could and would strike in ways that bypassed their defenses and maximized his chances for taking them out.

When Usagi got home that night she found a letter on her pillow and it had been all she could do not to scream.

Luna had been captured. None of the Senshi had been killed. Abandon Crystal Tokyo or else. There was more but those were the major points.

Usagi had gotten even more panicked when her Sailor Communicator had failed to be able to contact Hotaru/Saturn. Haruka at this point was practically frothing at the mouth. Makoto pointed out that if situations had been reversed, Haruka would have adopted the same tactics. Haruka did not agree, to put it very politely.

Three days of little sleep and nerves growing ever more on edge followed. Any little noise could be a creeping assassin. Any moving shadow an enemy. Any sudden motion causing near heart attacks or a girl beating on the source of said movement. Which caused a lot of people to remark on the violence displayed by some of these girls, or that they had done something terribly wrong if they were feeling *that* guilty about something.

Artemis vanished on the fourth day. Minako went into hysterics and collapsed from nervous exhaustion shortly thereafter. That night, while she was being watched by Makoto, Minako was apparently spirited away.

Sailor Uranus, Sailor Jupiter, Sailor Moon, and Tuxedo Mask settled into guard positions. Nobody went anywhere without a guard - even to the bathroom. When Tuxedo Mask left to investigate a noise and failed to return, the three remaining started throwing attacks around at anything that moved. Which resulted in some birds getting fried and Usagi's little brother getting hospitalized when he tried to find out what was going on with his crybaby big sister.

Exhaustion took its toll. Sailor Jupiter's place was empty in the morning.

Uranus would never give up, never say die. Moon was tired, emotionally and physically. If she had had a towel at hand she would have thrown it in.

Uranus left Moon upon hearing something crashing in another part of the apartment. Uranus, predictably, didn't come back.

Moon calmly and quietly announced her surrender. Finding a dignity in extreme situations that she lacked in day to day affairs.

--------

Crystal Tokyo faded, the Distopian dream coming to an ending.

Another future began. One far less clean and perfect perhaps, but one where individual decisions still could count for something.

As for Ranma, perhaps he still wanders the world - finding those oppressed and abused and fighting in their cause.

Perhaps.

=============

Pokeboys side story: Linda's Tale

Usagi and the other Senshi stared at the item. "This explains everything, Hotaru-chan?"

Hotaru nodded, looking ashamed and disgusted. "He left it out. It was something that was apparently distributed from that underground he was a part of in that strange world. It's a recording from one of the leaders of that world which became public fifty years after it was taken. The women of that world still regard her as a hero..."

Haruka and Michiru were puzzled. Why did Hotaru look so disgusted, as if she wanted to run away and throw up? They didn't exactly approve of her relationship with that misogynist, so maybe this was a further lever to use to seperate them.

Usagi reached out hesitantly towards the little cylinder and touched the recessed button.

An old woman's voice began to speak.

-------

"Hmmmph. I'm not going to die, child, I'm old but they've plans to pull my brain out of this dying body and put it in a tank. That way I can continue to run things. They just want me to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of our victory by giving a brief talk of the way things really were, not the spin we put out through the popular press.

"I was a reporter for a minor New York newspaper. Hmmm. Oh, it's called 'Metropolis' now. Anyway, I was a reporter and I'd been frustrated by my lack of success. Glass ceiling - males keeping womyn down through unfair controls. Sure they *said* it was because I wasn't popular or that there was only so much work for a 'bitter misoandrist' or that my facts didn't pan out too often but those were just excuses. I knew better.

"One day I decided to go after that guy Jim. Some researcher who'd recently started inventing all this shit, then bought himself a new home in the mountains. I knew there was a story there. I broke into his little compound and found this treasure trove. At first I wanted to just bring home the story of this mad scientist and his pet monsters. Then it occurred to me that I was still thinking small.

"Genetic engineering. The girls had been built from scratch. I knew that as soon as I saw the dog-girl, but had been planning on painting the whole thing as sexslaves culled from innocent girls. Other technology which was *decades* ahead of anything else.

"I killed them of course. It was ridiculously easy. Mad scientist and his pets. Called a few friends, explained what I had found. We took the stuff over, left the bodies out to rot.

"The spin we put on the Plague was that it had been something men had done to themselves. Hah. Yeah, we did it. Most of the males died in the first six months. Then we came up with that program to gather them for their own protection. Imagine my surprise at seeing one of my former bosses in the crowd.

"Gathered together made it easy for us to eliminate them once and for all. Made use of the bodies of course, made excellent compost. And *I* had thought there were no use for men. Oh well.

"We knew what the crowds did not. The only true love is that between two women. The only truly monogamous relations are those of lesbians. The only way to end male oppression of the only ones who were truly people - womyn, was to end the existence of the male.

"After the total loss of males, there were still womyn that wanted some sort of male companionship. I admit, it was my idea for the pokeboys. Short lifespans, naturally submissive towards females, and built with enlarged sexual parts. Eventually other breeds were created, but the idea of men reduced to compliant sextoys had a certain justice to it after 10,000 years of oppression.

"As time went on, the pokeboys were less often pets and more often slaves. Little or no emotional investment in them, that had to be discouraged, but it didn't actually take that long. The vast majority of people will swallow whatever bilge you want to hand them. What mattered to most people was that their lives were more comfortable than ever.

"Rewriting history wasn't difficult. Putting an anti-male spin on things had been in place for decades, just not 100% prior to the takeover. It was done in stages.

"With males gone, it was simply a matter of who could tell the best lies and make the most emotional argument. Not that different from before. I was elected to the Senate, then two terms later I was ready for my Presidential bid. I had broken several stories on the Plague, been portrayed as a visionary leader, and my chief rival had that disfiguring 'accident' that ruined her own chances. Image has been the chief requirement for political office since the invention of television.

"As President, my staff was quickly rounded out by others who knew of my humble origins and had assisted me getting this far.

"Word of a group of surviving males entrenched in a different country gave us our first excuse to go in with military force. Different military, of course. All the grunt positions being filled by pokeboys. If friendly fire destroyed our own troops, well, it was only males being caught in that. No big loss.

"We built our New World Order piece by piece. Sure, we may have had to trim the garden some in the process, but look at the paradise we've built!

"And it *is* a Paradise. Womyn are not oppressed. We are in charge, as we should always have been. Our slaves are clearly not human and depend on us for their continued existence. Through those slaves we have an age of prosperity where womyn have all that they want. Well, the womyn who count at least. There are no hungry children, as only those children who are really wanted will be fertilized and carried. If an oh-ma changes her mind, the fetus is disposed of with no more thought or ceremony than a tumor. Up until the second year at least.

"Crime is much less prevelant now. Violent crime even more so. The idea of forming an emotional bond with a male is considered ridiculous now, and will only become more so as proper educational standards are enforced. There are even devices being designed which will allow us to correct anyone's mind who shows evidence of backsliding. Mental health is the first priority of the new regime, since everything else follows that.

"As for the pokeboys, eventually they will be eliminated too. From pets and male stand-in to slave labor to obsolence once robotics takes off. My final victory, uhm, *our* final victory will be when there are no more males at all. What a glorious day that will be, when womyn will be able to stand alone and unfettered by any such reminders of the horrible bad old days.

"So yes, child, that is why they want me to speak into your recorder there. As a reminder of the evil of men and how it was my own vision that helped to forge our current Paradise-in-formation."

-------

Usagi listened and could picture it, she looked ill.

Hotaru *was* being ill.

Haruka and Michiru looked at each other and nodded. Sometimes you had to break a few eggs, but for a Paradise, it would be worth it.

Right?

=========

Wild Horses & Pokeboys: sidestory 2

-----------

Dear Mother & Father,

It was two years ago that I left your lives, time enough for wounds to fade. I know how upset you are about my "betrayal" but you shouldn't think that was true.

You taught me often about how you had to make choices, and live by the choices you have made. Usagi and the others taught me much about how if we want to be something, we should act in that manner and become that.

When you heard the tape and discussed it with the others, you said that even if 40% of the population died - if it improved the lives of the remaining 60% it was worth it. If it was necessary for Crystal Tokyo, it was necessary.

The others argued and between Setsuna-mother and yourselves you managed to argue against them, playing the trump card of Chibi-Usa. Change Crystal Tokyo and there would be no Chibi-Usa or "Small Lady" - that they would effectively be killing her.

It was not an easy decision to make. Initially I viewed it as two betrayals. Go with everyone else and I would be betraying Ranma's trust in me, as well as Chibi-Usa to some extent. Would she be happy that I chose her future, at the cost of the lives and freedom of millions? When I had initially brought the player to you, it was my hope that you would all see how evil that world was and how we should avoid anything that was close to it in the forging of Crystal Tokyo.

It was Chibi-Usa that decided it for me. I remembered her and tried to picture her reaction. Would she smile and accept that others had been an "acceptable sacrifice" so that she could be born? Would she be happy that millions had died and billions lost their freedom so that she could one day rule the survivors as Usagi's heir?

Ranma, without any other influences, would likely have assassinated you and everyone else until someone finally caught him. Probably Pluto. It was something he learned to do on that other world, and once he settled into this as a war would have shown no remorse or mercy.

Instead he took my advice and influence. The Inners didn't really have their heart set on Crystal Tokyo anyway, just protecting Usagi. He was able to catch them on their home territory, usually in civilian identity, taking away their henshin pens. I wouldn't act directly against any of you, but as long as he kept to his part of the bargain I provided him information.

Once you surrendered, he left. I followed a week later, as you already knew.

Since then we've travelled the world. He's slowly come to accept me, and he needs someone to show him that not all women are the "womyn" of that other world. Someone to balance out the bitterness he'd developed.

We've freed chains of slaves in Africa, disrupted a slavery network that filled brothels in Bangkok, crushed a mining operation in Iraq that used children stolen from around the Mediterranean, and I'd like to think we've made a difference. Perhaps not globally but here and there.

There have been other encounters. Some guy keeps getting lost and showing up to fight Ranma, the last time with some girl with him who apparently promised her father she'd bring Ranma back to marry one of her sisters. Ranma's a very good fighter, and I'm not a pushover myself. Those two were good but "there's a difference between being good and good enough."

I visited the grave of someone named Keron, and listened to Ranma's stories about the boy. How another me had found the courage to go against society and risk "re-education" where her old personality would be "corrected to accept the truth." It gave me some strength to find out that another me in that world had found her own source of strength.

There were bright wildflowers covering that grave, and Ranma had to point it out before I could see the edges of it.

Two days ago, Chibi-Usa showed up in camp after we'd rescued a group of slaves heading to some poppy field in Laos. Children, starving and chained, who likely wouldn't have lived to see puberty. So we're in camp when Chibi-Usa shows up. So much for killing her. Chibi-Usa isn't so Chibi anymore. She looks to be about twelve. Ranma didn't trust her, but that was apparently normal - she was used to it.

Chibi-Usa also smirked a lot and would look at both me and Ranma. I wonder if that means what I think it means.

Anyway, I've got to go. We're going up into Tibet next, having heard a rumor involving some goings on up there. Ranma's also excited about the possibility of learning more martial arts secret techniques.

Sincerely,
Your loving daughter,

Hotaru Tomoe