Fallen Angels

	Zen-chan trudged slowly through the WWWA Lounge, trying to 
ignore the whispers that followed her.

	"Isn't that--?"

	"Yeah, the Dirty Pair's pet freak."

	"Shhh! What if they heard you?"

	"Didn't you hear? They broke up. They've both taken new 
partners."

	"You mean--?"

	"No more planetary disasters!"

	"So what happened with the freak?"

	"Still a trainee. Guess she can't hack it without someone 
looking over her shoulder."

	"Who're the unlucky ones who got her?"

	"The Pussycats." This was said with a sneer.

	"I guess freaks attract freaks--" the speaker broke off as 
Zen-chan stopped at their table.

	"Zen doesn't care what you say about me," the tiny redhead 
said in a deceptively calm voice. "But don't insult my 
trainers."

	"What are you going to do about it, freak?"

*****

	Director Francis Goulet buried his head in his hands as he 
looked at the stack of reports on his desk. What truly made 
their immensity frightening was that they weren't simply paper. 
Each sheet was one-gigabyte SmartPaper with nanotech computers 
placed in the fibers. Each page could be billions of words long.

	And there were reams of them scattered about.

	His monitor flickered to life and the inane smiley-face 
icon of the Central Computer appeared. The screen split and an 
officious looking bureaucrat appeared beside it, the bottom of 
the screen proclaiming him to be Richard Stone, Chief of 
Personnel.

	"Director Goulet, your request is denied," Stone said 
without preamble. "The Central Computer has declared them fit 
for duty and we will not override it."

	Goulet straightened up and addressed the screen. "With all 
due respect, sir, I think this is a bad idea. Their efficiency 
rate is dropping like an air car whose grav motors have failed. 
The psych boys also are indicating--"

	"Their psych evaluations are within the norm for active 
duty."

	"Yes, sir, but if I may--"

	Stone looked put out, but gave a nod. "Proceed."

	Goulet pushed a button and a picture of three young women 
appeared on the screen, two redheads and a brunette. "As you 
know, sir, Trouble Consultant Team #234, the Lovely Angels, 
broke up six months ago after the successful conclusion of the 
Gorgeous Case. Trouble Consultant Yuri requested the transfer, 
citing a belief that she would work better with another 
partner."

	The picture of the Lovely Angels and Zen-chan faded into 
the background and a new picture appeared. Yuri now wore a black 
skinsuit instead of her gold battle bikini, and a golden mask 
covered the right side of her face. Standing next to her was a 
brunette clad in a skimpy brown battle bikini and holding up a 
pair of wickedly sharp throwing spikes.

	"Trouble Consultant Team #654, the Phantoms. Consultants 
Yuri and Solude. They have been specializing in our espionage 
division since their team was formed. Their success rate has 
been hovering around 90 percent and the collateral damage..."

	The image changed to show Yuri and Solude running from a 
building. Two men in some sort of uniform tried to stop them, 
only to be cut down quickly and bloodily. The building then 
explodes behind them, sending debris everywhere.

	Goulet hit another button and an image of Kei appeared. She 
was now wearing a skin-tight red outfit with a black skull-and-
crossbones on her chest. Strapped to her arm was a very, very 
large gun. Some sort of sensor was over one of her eyes. 
Standing next to her, with an even larger gun, was a man to whom 
the word "Large" was an inadequate term.

	"Trouble Consultant Team #687, the Jolly Rogers. 
Consultants Kei and Aster. They're now a member of the Heavy 
Combat Division. Again, they have a success rate of around 90% 
and a reputation for heavy collateral damage."

	The image now showed Kei and Aster surrounded by scaly 
creatures with large teeth, fangs, and an obviously hostile 
intent. Their guns were blazing non-stop and the look of feral 
excitement on Kei's face was the truly frightening part.

	"Director Goulet, that is still a far better success rate 
than most teams in the field--"

	"Yes, but the Angels had a spotless 100% record," Goulet 
interrupted. "We let our best team--"

	"Team #234 ALSO had an even greater reputation for 
collateral damage," Stone said, looking annoyed at Goulet's 
interruption.

	"But the difference is, sir, that it was never the Angels' 
fault." Goulet could hardly believe he was using Kei and Yuri's 
patented excuse. "The Phantoms and the Jolly Rogers' collateral 
damage--"

	"Mistakes happen in the field. Still, the board of 
inquiries have leveled no serious charges against either team."

	"Sir, I think it's only a matter of time before we reach 
that point. I think that Kei and Yuri are locked onto self-
destructive paths, caused by whatever made them request the 
dissolution of their partnership. They're getting sloppy and 
careless. Consultants Solude and Aster may be the only things 
keeping them alive at the moment."

	"And what would you recommend?" Stone asked, in the tone of 
someone who already knows the answer.

	"I think they should be put on leave, pending a psychiatric 
evaluation. I think we should try and help these two, to whom 
the WWWA owes so much, put their lives back together." Goulet 
knew he was saying too much, but he couldn't stop himself.

	Stone shuffled the papers on his desk in the diffident 
manner that bureaucrats had been mastering since the invention 
of paper. "We disagree with your assessment, Director Goulet. 
Any new team has its 'shakedown' period. The Central Computer 
has left this matter to our discretion, and we feel that you are 
being overly involved in this matter, because of an undesirable 
attachment to the Consultants in question. We do not think your 
judgement is unbiased."

	"Even if that is so, sir, what harm is there in offering 
both teams some downtime? They have been on-call non-stop since 
the formation of their teams."

	"That is by their own request. They have both refused all 
offers of leave. Given the recent workload, we are not about to 
refuse any consultants who are willing to shoulder their share."

	Goulet grit his teeth at the man's callous manner. It was a 
good thing the bastard only "had time" for a videoconference, he 
thought, or I'd be strangling him with my bare hands!

	"WHAT OF CONSULTANT ZEN?"

	Both men turned in surprise to the CC's icon.

	"Um, Consultant Zen--" Goulet said, fumbling through his 
files. The image on the screen now showed a rather morose Zen-
chan, still wearing her standard issue light-grey battle bikini 
with blue piping standing beside two rather... exotic women. "--
is now under the tutelage of Team #387, the Kit Kats."

	One of the two women next to Zen-chan was almost as small 
as the red head, with dark blue-green hair and a pair of cat-
like ears. That wasn't the only thing cat-like about her. She 
also had a long tail that stretched down to her feet and a pair 
of fangs. Despite it all, she didn't look threatening. The worst 
it seemed she could do was "cute." Beneath her picture was the 
name "Natsuki Sasahara."

	The taller woman was definitely not cute. The words 
stunning, gorgeous, voluptuous, and breathtaking came to mind. 
She had long silver hair that ran over a pair of pointed ears 
and down to a COLLECTION of tails of the same color. It was hard 
to tell at first glance how many she had. She held a gun in her 
hands, pointing it at the camera with a cool, professional 
manner. Her name was proclaimed to be "Sakura 
Bokuseiinmonzeninari."

	Both wore blue outfits reminiscent of police uniforms but 
which were definitely more form-fitting.

	"Right, the ELFs," Stone said with almost a sneer.

	Goulet frowned at the term, but could say nothing. It WAS 
technically accurate, even if the connotations many groups 
attached to it made it slightly pejorative. The creation of 
sentient Engineered Life Forms was illegal under United 
Galactica law, but that didn't stop outlaw geneticists or rogue 
planets from doing it and selling them to interested parties in 
the UG. It was a slave trade, pure and simple, and the WWWA did 
more than its share to stamp it out. But the question always 
arose as to what to DO with the ELFs once they were rescued.

	Most tried to fit into the United Galactica and live normal 
lives, but it was difficult. Many of them looked quite different 
from humanity, despite their common ancestry and the fact that 
many could interbreed with humanity. This caused more than one 
fringe group to latch onto the ELFs with virulent hatred.

	Goulet refreshed his memory as to these particular ELFs. 
They were both second-generation citizens of the UG, and both 
the children of a "normal" human and an ELF. There was no 
mention of it in their files, but Goulet knew their childhoods 
must have been rough. Still, it may have been that which led the 
two to join the WWWA.

	"WE WILL LET THE SITUATION CONTINUE FOR NOW. THIS MEETING 
IS ENDED," the Central Computer said, interrupting Goulet's 
thoughts. Its smiley face icon vanished from the screen. Stone 
soon followed suit.

	Goulet looked at the images of the seven Consultants on his 
screen and sighed. He could sense that trouble was coming. He 
could feel it in his gut.

	Speaking of which, where was that ulcer medication...?

*****

	Zen-chan dragged herself to the hatch of her ship with a 
groan. She should have known better than to take on a table full 
of trouble consultants, even if she WAS better than any one of 
them.

	The tiny redhead was a mess. Bruises and caked blood (most 
of it her enemies', she would defiantly proclaim) covered her 
face and body. She was sure she looked a fright.

	"Zen-chan!"

	Zen-chan looked up at one of her current sempais. "Hi, 
Natsuki-san," she said.

	The cat girl quickly came forward and grabbed hold of Zen-
chan's arm. "What happened?"

	Zen-chan's form rippled and wavered, like heat waves 
distorting her image, and Natsuki found herself looking at a 
badly beaten version of herself. 

	"Oops! Sorry!" she said, though she made no move to let go 
of Zen-chan.

	"Haven't lost control... like that in a while," Zen-Natsuki 
muttered, trying to concentrate. Her form shifted briefly back 
to her usual redhead form, then back. Zen-chan gave it up for 
now.

	Natsuki nodded and just concentrated on getting Zen inside 
the Bob. (It's a perfectly good name she was wont to say 
whenever anyone questioned it.) 

	Shortly after Zen had arrived at the WWWA Academy she had 
been exposed to a bad batch of nanotech. It had truly been a 
comedy of errors, because the bad nanotech had not been meant 
for Zen in the first place. Zen (who had been a he at the time) 
had received the batch for another Trouble Consultant named 
Ranko. Besides being faulty, the nanotech had expected a petite 
redhead's body... not that of a rather large man. It had... 
corrected the problem.

	For reasons unknown to everyone, including the numerous lab 
coats that studied the problem, Zen had gained the ability to 
shift forms after that. (A limited ability. While she could take 
on the appearance of others, she remained, genetically, a petite 
redhead female.) 

	But it had taken Zen time to learn control. For a long time 
she transformed whenever the nanotech sampled another being's 
DNA--like she had just done when Natsuki touched her.

	Natsuki wrinkled her nose. "It's weird, seeing myself all 
beaten up," she said.

	"Sorry, Natsuki-san," Zen-chan said.

	"Who did this to you?"

	"I fell," Zen-chan lied, badly.

	Natsuki looked at her dubiously but said nothing. Soon Zen-
chan was resting in the small medical bay of the Bob, her form 
changing back to that of a redheaded girl.

	Zen-chan gritted her teeth. "Ow, that hurts," she said in a 
resigned tone.

	Natsuki began to spray a quick heal compound on the worst 
of the bruises. Zen-chan flinched at the stinging sensation. For 
all their other faults, WWWA physicians were great believers in 
using pain to teach the damn fool trouble consultants in their 
care not to go and get busted up. Their medications tended to 
skimp on the painkillers, except in truly serious situations.

	"What happened, Zen-chan?" the cat girl asked, her tail 
swishing back and forth in agitation.

	"I fell," Zen-chan repeated.

	Natsuki's eyes began to fill with tears.

	"Oh no, Natsuki-sempai, please don't--"

	Natsuki's lower lip began to quiver.

	Zen-chan closed her eyes with sigh. "Some people were 
making fun of you, so I called them on it."

	"Oh, Zen-chan..." Natsuki said. Then Zen-chan's eyes flew 
open and she gave a strangled scream as Natsuki slapped her, 
hard, on her bruised shoulder. "That was really stupid, Zen-
chan!" she scolded him.

	"So's hitting her when she's down, Natsuki," said a 
throaty, drawling voice.

	Natsuki and Zen-chan looked up to see Sakura standing in 
the doorway. The silver-haired fox woman was wearing a skimpy 
gray tunic that left little to the imagination. Zen-chan's nose 
felt like it was going to burst as Sakura proceeded to stretch 
and yawn.

	"Huh, Sakura-san?" Natsuki asked.

	"Hitting the walking wounded," Sakura said wryly.

	Natsuki looked down at the bruised and battered Zen-chan. 
"Eep! Zen-chan! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't hate me!"

	"It's okay, Natsuki-sempai," Zen-chan said, trying to stave 
off her teacher's tears.

	"Oi, Natsuki," Sakura said, finally coming to the rescue. 
The fox-woman held up a ball of string and sent it rolling down 
the hallway. In a flash, Natsuki went bounding after it.

	"You shouldn't do that, Sakura-sempai," Zen-chan said 
reprovingly.

	Sakura stretched again, making Zen-chan feel light-headed. 
"Not my fault if the poor kid got some of the instincts of a 
cat," she said. "Oh, there are some messages for you on the 
board," she said as she walked out, her tails swishing in time 
with her hips.

	Zen-chan wondered, not for the first time, why there were 
no ugly female trouble consultants, then just chalked it up to 
the availability of biosculpt and a lot of chauvinism in the 
WWWA hierarchy. (Look at the uniforms and tell me that there 
isn't any.)

	She lay back on the bed and stared idly at the ceiling for 
a time, grateful that Natsuki and Sakura had left him alone. Not 
that they were bad sorts. Zen-chan liked them, actually. But 
after what happened, it was too great a risk to let anyone 
inside.

	After a while, she struggled to her feet, noting that the 
pain was less. Her nanotech and the quick heal were do their 
job. She limped over to the command deck and looked blankly at 
the message indicator. Dully, she hit the receive switch.

	The first message was a simple text communique from WWWA 
Headquarters. "We regret to inform you that at this time no Deep 
Space Survey slots are available. Please resubmit your 
application in three Standard Months." Zen-chan sighed and 
erased it.

	The next message was more personal.

	Solude's face appeared on the monitor. "Hey, fem-boy," she 
said. "Guess you weren't expecting to hear from me."

	The brown-haired Trouble Consultant was looking a little 
haggard, despite the cheery smile she was projecting for the 
camera. Zen-chan noted that she was sporting a bandage on her 
shoulder.

	"I'm not comming for the pleasure of your company, however, 
so don't get your hopes up," Solude continued. "We were in the 
system and I thought--"

	Solude shook her head. "Damn, this is harder than I 
thought. Look, Zen, if you get this, we'll be in-system for 
another three hours from now. Call her, please."

	The message ended. Zen-chan looked at the time-stamp on it 
and at the chronometer on the wall. She had ten minutes until 
the Phantoms left the system.

	Zen-chan sat, watching the numbers change until the time 
ran out. Then she turned and left the command deck.

*****

	Kei was drunk.

	No, Kei was rip-roaring, three sheets to the wind, totally 
SLOSHED.

	"'nother!" she barked at the bartender.

	"I'm going to need your keys," the large Irishman said 
gently, his hands never stopping as he cleaned the already 
spotless bar. In the corner, the pianist at an antique upright 
began playing "The Camp Town Ladies."

	"Wha'vr," she slurred, throwing them at him. (Actually, it 
was a sophisticated electronic identification device, but the 
term 'keys' was still used for reasons no one thought to 
question.)

	"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bartender asked 
quietly.

	Kei glared up at him. "I'll tell ya when I've hadda nuff!" 
she snarled. He just nodded and poured another glass for her.

	"If you want, you can make a toast," he said as he filled 
the glass. "Might make you feel better," he said, "to make a 
toast, then toss the glass into the fireplace." He indicated the 
cheerfully blazing fire, another anachronism.

	Kei glared blearily at him. She had found this bar 
stumbling around in the darkened streets after the last one had 
thrown her out for fighting. To tell the truth (which she 
wouldn't) she only had the vaguest idea of where she was.

	But she didn't care.

	With exaggerated dignity, she got to her feet and walked 
over to a chalk line on the floor. "To Partners!" she called, 
downing her drink and tossing it into the fireplace. It 
shattered amongst the broken remains of many other fallen 
soldiers.

	Everyone in the bar drank with her. That made her feel a 
little better, actually, and she found herself talking without 
even realizing it.

	"Ever had someone so close to you that you didn't even know 
she was there? Like an arm or a leg, something that you take for 
granted, until it's gone."

	A tall, gangly man who had the look of a musician nodded, 
almost to himself.

	"SHE LEFT ME!" Kei screamed. "Didn't want me to get m'self 
killed or something because of her. She just dumped me!" Kei 
sank to her knees hugging herself. "She dumped me," she 
repeated.

	Everyone was quiet for a time, then they moved forward to 
offer Kei a hug, a clasp on the shoulder, some sign of sympathy.

	"Why do you think she did it?" a large man with fingers the 
size of sausages and an antique stethoscope hanging from his 
neck.

	"I thought she was dead," Kei said, "and I went charging 
after her killer. I didn't look where I was going and fell right 
into a trap. If a friend hadn't been there--"

	Sounds like she was trying to do right by you," the 
musician said.

	"Right? What's right about dumping me because I lo--valued 
her so much?"

	"Don't you think that she might have done it because of 
love?" the bartender said softly.

	Kei looked at them all, tears running from her eyes. Faces 
full of compassion looked back. She had fought aliens, 
terrorists, butchers, and things so horrible they couldn't be 
summed up in one word. She had seen plagues and genocide. But 
none of it was as terrifying as the sympathy she saw there. With 
a strangled cry she turned and ran from the bar.

	One or two of the patrons moved to go after her, but the 
bartender shook his head. "She'll be back when she's ready," 
Mike Callahan said.

*****

	Yuri stared up at the bulkhead of her ship. It still felt 
strange to be on the Lovely Angel (now renamed the Phantom) and 
know that Kei was not on board.

	Next to her on the bed, Solude snuggled closer to her, 
spooning her body with Yuri's. Yuri reached over and ran one 
finger lightly over Solude's unblemished cheek. Then she felt 
the golden mask she had affixed to her own.

	It was her punishment and a reminder, she said to herself. 
A punishment for almost letting Kei die. A reminder that she did 
not deserve the joy others felt.

	Is that fair to Solude? she asked herself, looking over the 
sleeping woman. The brunette's hair was tousled from their 
lovemaking earlier. If she had noticed anything amiss in Yuri's 
reactions, she had never said anything.

	Yuri hadn't felt anything.

	She was numb. The only things she felt any more was the 
pain of the injuries she suffered on missions, and that was 
welcome. Anything was preferable to the terrible numbness. The 
psychs would have a field day if she ever admitted that.

	I told Solude that I was "damaged goods" before we became 
partners, Yuri reminded herself. It's not fair, but she knew 
what she was getting into. At the least I owe her the illusion 
of love.

	She gives me what I need, after all.

	"Solude," she whispered, tracing her fingers along Solude's 
cheek again and running them over the brunette's lips. She 
smiled slightly as Solude instinctively nursed on her fingers 
before she opened her sleepy eyes. "Solude, I need it again... 
please?"

	Solude looked pained for a moment. "Yuri, you know I--"

	"Please. Please, Solude."

	"I don't like doing it. I don't enjoy it. You know I 
don't."

	"Do it for me. You don't have to enjoy it. I don't blame 
you."

	"Yuri-chan. Don't make me."

	"Please, Solude."

	Solude sighed and moved over Yuri. "This is the last time," 
she said.

	"Of course," Yuri said.

	Both knew they were lying.

	It began slow and gentle, but with Yuri's urging the dance 
became combat. Hard, bruising combat. She smiled as Solude's 
hands closed around her neck, cutting off almost all her air.

	All she felt anymore was pain.

*****

	The dark-haired man stared at the screen before him. It 
showed a powerful set of thrusters being mounted on the rocky 
surface of an asteroid. It was the final piece to his revenge, 
the last step before his foes would suffer.

	They killed his brother and they would pay.

	"We are on schedule," he said to the black-robed men and 
women who stood behind him. "Let the Hunt begin. Bring my 
brother's murderers to me."

	"Yes, Lord Chic," the lead assassin said, before they all 
vanished into the darkness.

	Chic, brother of Gorgeous and one of the leaders of 
Lucifer, turned back to his plans.

*****