Star Trek: Strike Team Valkyrie

by PrincessColumbia

Rating: everyone
Tags: Equestria Girls, Mystery, Science Fiction, Sunset Shimmer, Adventure, Twilight Sparkle (EqG), Crossover, Human, Ranma ½, Star Trek, Alternate Universe
Length: 7385

Something in the universe is wrong, and Admiral's Celestia and Angella are assembling a team to find out what

Space, as it goes, is often considered the final frontier, but anyone who's served aboard a Starfleet vessel can tell you that sometimes time likes to stick it's foot in and mix things up a bit. When artifacts and unusual sensor readings are brought to the attention of the Admiralty, Celestia and Angella decide to gather their best and most trusted people to investigate.

Captain Sunset Royal, an expat from the so-called 'mirror' universe and Admiral Celestia's chosen inheritor of her former ship, the USS Harmony

Captain Adora Gray, Angella's choice to lead the strike team, captain of the USS Sword of Protection

Captain Ranma Saotome, considered a wildcard in the fleet but known for pulling her crew out of insane disasters, captain of the USS Invincible

These three and others will find themselves on a journey that will reveal that the universe they think they know is falling apart at the seams, and they may be the only ones who can keep it from unraveling into oblivion.

Published 2024-06-08 08:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-10-06 07:17:54 UTC

Prologue 1 - I Know Nothing but That I Trust You

Author's Note

I consider it a personal failing that I hadn't posted this here on FiMFiction earlier. I can only blame the sun being in my eyes and my trick knee acting up.

Prologue 1 - I Know Nothing but That I Trust You

Sunset stood at the door to the captain’s quarters, her hands only being kept from wringing themselves by the black velvet drawstring pouch she held. Swallowing hard, she watched as the lights of the hallway, dimmed for evening cycle, shimmered slightly across the fabric. Nothing but her own fear held her back from pressing the button next to the door to ring the chime, and all her life she’d been proud of how well she was able to conquer her fear…but the fear of what she was about to do almost paralyzed her.

More out of nerves than anything, she glanced down the hall in the direction she’d come from, as though she could still see her friends gathered around “their” table in the mess hall. As one, they’d been kind and compassionate, supporting her both when she revealed her true history to them and when she said she wanted to tell the captain. The “Main 7,” as the crew liked to call them, had grown closer than Sunset had ever expected…had ever experienced, and every one of the other six had been sure that she was making the right decision.

She looked back down at the bag in her hands, gently stroking the fabric with her thumb, more to have sensation than because she had any need to identify the contents. She knew what was inside after all, she’d filled the pouch herself years ago before stowing it in the first of multiple private belongings safes and crates she’d used since joining the Fleet.

Nothing for it but to do, I shouldn’t…I can’t put this off any longer, I owe her that much. Resignedly sighing, she reached out her hand, her middle finger resting against the wall plating as she tended to do, a silly habit that she couldn’t recall when she started doing it, and her index finger hovering over the button. Almost unbidden, the memory that planted the seed for this meeting floated up from her subconscious.

“I was putting the commendation in your file today ensign, and I noticed a discrepancy.”

The hair on the back of Sunset’s neck rose like a cat puffing up in response to danger. “Oh?” Almost on automatic, she began cataloging the fastest and most efficient ways to kill the captain. Grappling the taller woman would be a challenge, but she’d spent countless hours in the holodeck training to do just that. Using one of the multiple decorative artefacts littering the ready room’s shelves would be the most likely lethal option, but retrieving one and re-approaching the woman to use it would give her ample warning. Blunt force trauma would be messy, but there was nothing like the classics. She commanded herself to wait and see what the woman would do, she’d surprised Sunset numerous times in the past.

“Yes, it said your parents had died during the siege of Eronia. I looked the battle up and I didn’t find mention of them being on one of the ships during that battle. Of course, the Dominion War was…a nightmare…” the older woman’s face clouded for a moment, “…and many people lost loved ones, and sometimes the records weren’t well kept. So I checked into it and found they had died during that campaign, but at the previous star system. I’ve corrected your personnel file so it shows they died in the line of duty at Neethia. I…thought you’d want to know.”

Sunset’s ‘fight or flight’ responses weren’t mollified in the least. “Oh, yes, of course…”

The captain smiled at Sunset, “In any case, if your performance on this ship is any indication, I expect you’ll be a very impressive captain someday. Likely very soon! Your actions have improved efficiency of the ship’s systems, boosted morale, increased crew efficiency, and saved no small number of lives.” The smile…didn’t soften so much as it morphed from one of ‘duty’ to something warmer, almost…familial. “It’s not often I encounter an ensign who exhibits as much honesty, kindness, and loyalty as you have, especially in the Command track. Far too many cadets join the Academy with stars in their eyes and the goal to be a better captain than Kirk, and by that they always mean, ‘more decorated.’” She giggled slightly, “They don’t often think until well into being lieutenants about taking joy in their fellow crewmember’s successes or giving generously of their time and experience.”

Sunset had never been told she exemplified any of those virtues, let alone all of them, and so was more nonplussed than anything. “I…don’t understand. Isn’t that how Starfleet operates?”

Captain Celestia chuckled again, “That’s the thing I think I like most about you, Sunset. You don’t even realize how well you fit in here.” She leaned back in her chair, resting her elbows on the armrests and folding her hands together, “Rather than trying to command, you’ve chosen to make friends. And that is the best path to command you could possibly take.”

What had Sunset waking up in panic and begging Sickbay for anxiety meds was the ‘correction’ to her file. If she looked up the names and the battles, she should have found it. I’m good at hacking, but I’m not THAT good! Either Section 31 was up to some bullshit, or the captain had deliberately overlooked something very big and incriminating in the records of the honorably deceased.

More on impulse than anything, Sunset finally tapped the button for the door chime. She heard through the thin parsteel-and-mesh-composite panel the brief chirp of the announcement, followed by the captain’s “Come.” Well, here goes nothing… she thought as she tapped the ‘open door’ button.

The door hissed open and for just a brief, haunting moment, she saw a much different captain standing silhouetted by the starboard windows of the captain’s cabin. Rather than a gentle waterfall of pastel rainbow locks, she thought she saw the same hair pulled back into a severe ponytail. Instead of the casually undone flap of the captain’s tunic revealing the utilitarian white turtleneck the captain preferred, a crop-top with woven tritanium mesh armor revealing an abdomen with visible scarring where blades had been plunged multiple times over the course of a storied career. With a blink, Sunset vanished the specter from her past and stepped into the room.

Captain Celestia turned, lowering her cup of tea from her mouth to the saucer she held, her smile lit by the streaming of stars in a warp field. “Ah, Sunset! So good to see you! I’ve been meaning to talk to you, your handling of the Klingons was absolutely perfectly during that last away mission. The reports from the rest of your team, I believe they’re called, ‘The Main Seven?’” that omnipresent smile ticked up a couple notches, “Are absolutely effusive with praise of you, specifically. Of course, Dash might have to be reprimanded and given a medal for getting you all into and then helping you out of that situation, but we’ll figure that out in time.” The taller woman crossed to her desk and set her teacup down, “Sit! I’ll pour you some tea.”

Following her captain’s orders, Sunset took the visitor’s chair, setting the pouch in her lap, and took an obedient sip of the tea as Celestia took her own seat. While not intentionally trying to stretch the moment out, she couldn’t help but think, This might be the last time I enjoy a cup of tea with her… The thought made her heart hurt a little. In her two years aboard the USS Harmony, Sunset had found herself becoming unexpectedly attached to the woman, her desire to make Celestia proud becoming an ever-growing priority in her life.

And Sunset was about to break her heart instead.

Unwilling to put it off any longer, but unsure what to say, specifically, Sunset gently put the cup down on its saucer. Sensing more than seeing Celestia’s focus, she slowly and deliberately moved to pick the packet up off her lap, loosen the drawstring, and withdraw the object that she’d had for so long she couldn’t remember not having it. It had been part of her existence so much that she still had callouses on her dominant hand even years since she’d last held it.

She slowly, quietly reached out to place it gently in the middle of Celestia’s desk, then hastily withdrew her hand, grasping the now empty pouch and twisting it nervously.

Celestia put her teacup down and examined the object. It was a dagger, with a hollow grip and overall triangular shape. The crossbar was bent back on both sides of the blade, giving the whole thing the impression of being the tip of an arrow. While the blade was sheathed, she knew that it would have two half-circle cut-outs, intended to make any stab wound that much worse and commensurately more deadly. It would be extremely sharp, made from the sturdiest, most exotic materials available, and likely would have genetic material on it from multiple victims. She would be able to deduce all that from the logo stamped onto the sheath the blade was still in, the icon of the Terran Empire, the Federation’s mirror opposite.

Celestia didn’t say anything, just folded her hands and leaned her elbows on her desk, waiting for Sunset to speak.

After what felt like hours of quiet condemnation, Sunset finally broke the silence, “I…” she paused, swallowing the lump in her throat and struggling to continue, “…you’re a lot like her.” She paused in case the captain wanted to ask for clarification. No questions were forthcoming, but Sunset explained anyway. “My captain…the one who pulled an orphan from the wreckage of a Terran space station…she also saw…’great things’ in me. She had a Mission,” her emphasis on the word was underscored with the scratchiness of her voice, “She wanted to rebuild the Empire, wanted to make the galaxy safe for humans again. She read Spock like he wrote holy scripture, did her best to teach it to me, but…I got greedy. I started looking for ways to…be a true Terran. Not bogged down by alien philosophy but to be true to Emperor Sato’s vision. I heard of a stable portal to this universe and I took a small team with me. It was on a small moon in the Vaaran Expanse.”

Celestia spoke up for the first time since Sunset put the dagger on her desk, “That’s…a very unstable region of space.”

Sunset nodded, still not looking up at Celestia, “When we had…dispatched the small guard contingent at the storage facility, and I’d managed to get through the last of the safeguards when…” she swallowed, the lump returning to her throat with a vengeance, “The two others I had…thought I recruited…they turned on me. Held me at phaserpoint while they opened a channel back to Celestia who…”

She suddenly couldn’t talk. Her breath was coming in shuddered gasps as she realized she was crying, “She told me this had been a test. She had heard about the portal long before I did and planted the leads so I’d find them. If I went to her to ask for the mission, I would have passed. But if I tried to take the portal myself…”

“…a sign that you didn’t trust her?” the captain finished for her.

She nodded again. “She said, ‘I’m not angry, I could never truly be angry with you, but I’m so very disappointed. I cannot have anyone disloyal to me trying to take power and turn my crew against me.’ She said…” tears streaked down her cheeks, she hastily wiped them away, “’Goodbye, my daughter.’”

Sunset cleared her throat, “I managed to use the distraction of the comms ending to overpower the two who’d been sent to kill me, but one of them had a bomb, and it was already armed. I managed to get behind a barrier, but the bomb blew a hole in the wall, and it was just vacuum on the other side. The only way to survive was to go through the portal…and I wound up in an abandoned lab in this universe.”

“I found an old Augment ship, based on an early 22nd century explorer design designed to run on plutonium, of all things,” a hint of humor crept into her voice for just a moment, “…and I used the time practically crawling toward the Federation reading up on the history of this universe. By the time I reached a Federation outpost, I’d crafted a backstory and created a virus to modify the computer records to make it as believable as I could, but…I couldn’t alter too much, so I created a small glitch. Find a war where enough people died, find a couple of people that were a close enough genetic match, and tweak things so people look just far enough to see they were really dead, but usually stop there before they went looking deeper out of respect for the dead.”

She snorted, “Imagine my surprise at finding my name. Sunset Royal, dead along with her parents thanks to the silly Federation notion that families on starships was a good idea. I just…fudged the records so that ‘my’ parents died at a different system, and anyone looking up me would find my name twice, once at a refuge camp along the flight path of the combat fleet, and one a dozen light years away from where her parents died. It would be a coincidence, surely, and for the most part it worked.”

Sunset was quiet, several false starts where she wanted to speak, but the words fled before she could voice them.

“…then a certain captain found the discrepancy?” Celestia volunteered.

Sunset nodded, “I haven’t slept well in months. I keep waking up from nightmares where you’re pushing me through the portal, but it opens to a black hole. Or I’m thrown into a Federation penal colony, or you just…phaser me from existence on the bridge.” She shivered and hugged herself, curling in as though to protect her vital organs, “And I would take a caffeine patch or an upper just to get through the day, and Doc cut me off from accessing any sleep hypos. I’ve been drinking so much calming tea before bed…and I have to lead the crew, I can’t disappoint them, I can’t…I can’t fail you again.”

When her next words barely squeaked out, she took another shuddering breath, “T…Terran biosignatures h-have a point-4 drift in the neo-cortex. You’ll also need to cycle the brig force fields so the syncing interval is randomized, the Federation standard for brig systems is too easy to exploit if you’re accustomed to a…agony booths. I d-d-don’t have next of kin and I’ll plead guilty to impersonating a Federation citizen just please let me tell my friends I’ll miss them and…” what she had intended to be a carefully prepared briefing on the best way to track and contain her then expedite her from the ship had turned into a jumbled mess of half-formed sentences as the control she’d barely been holding on to started slipping.

That control was shattered when she felt Celestia’s arms wrap around her in what was probably the first hug she’d ever received. Sure, Pinkemaina had attempted them, but Sunset had drawn some very firm, very hard ‘personal bubble’ boundaries early on, and the (usually disastrous) attempts at hugs ended after that, and nobody since had even tried.

And a Terran hugging anyone else without at least three witnesses present to ensure a knife wasn’t about to be plunged into your back? Unthinkable.

But Celestia didn’t have a blade in her hand, and she demanded nothing of Sunset, merely held her as the young lieutenant wept.

AJ’s fingers drummed a steady rhythm against the mess hall table. While the rhythm was regular, the tempo was getting faster as the minutes ticked by.

Rarity groaned without looking away from her makeup mirror, “Jaqueline, darling, while I do understand your anxiety, I would appreciate it if you would please stop that incessant racket!”

AJ grumbled and flattened her palms against the table surface. Rarity took pity on her girlfriend and put down the mirror and old style liquid eyeliner and took the now stilled hands into her own. “Thank you, darling.”

Not to be outdone by AJ’s display of impatience, Dash groaned out loud and rolled her head back on her shoulders, “C’mon, this is taking so long! Pinkie, can’t you tell us anything about what’s going on?”

Next to her, the Betazoid officer giggled, “Noparoonie! That’d be a total invasion of privacy and waaaay against Starfleet regulations.”

Dash groaned again and swung her torso until her head thudded against the table. “Why does she think the captain’s gonna throw the book at her, anyway?”

Science Cadet Twilight hmm’d, “She’s making a fairly logical series of deductions based on her research into Federation law, Starfleet code, and the information gathered through conversation with fellow officers in the Fleet,” she looked up from the PADD she was reading from, “That said, I do think her conclusions are heavily influenced by her upbringing in the Empire.”

Dash sat up and glared at Twilight, “What, are you a Vulcan or something?”

Fluttershy whimpered, “To think there’s…mean versions of us that could show up at any time…”

Twilight rolled her eyes, “Not any time, there’s specific criteria for the multiversal transfer, and much of the evidence so far indicates that there may have to be a one-to-one exchange of matter between universes, so unless the conditions are nearly perfect, we won’t be seeing our own doppelgangers any time soon.”

Any reply that might have been made was interrupted by the whoosh of the mess hall doors. Though they’d all been looking up every time the sound occurred, this time they were rewarded with the sight of the friend they’d been looking for, “Sunset!” they all crowed as they surged from the table.

The lieutenant greeted them look of tearful disbelief, like she couldn’t understand why she was walking into the mess hall instead of being escorted to the brig. She watched almost dumbfounded as the group ran up to her.

Abruptly, Pinkie held out her arms and drew to a stop a little over a meter away from Sunset, “Ahp-ahp-ahp!” she chirped, “Before we go ahead with our planned display of affection and support for our friend, as junior ship’s counselor I must insist we follow protocol and secure affirmative, ongoing, and vocal consent.” She straightened and stood directly in front of Sunset in a formal pose, “My good friend Sunset, do you consent to…?”

“Pinkie,” interrupted Sunset, “Shut up and hug me.”

With a laugh, the group dogpiled Sunset with a group hug that almost toppled her to the floor. After several minutes, they finally parted enough for Sunset to stand on her own, with Twilight being the surprising final hanger-on in the hug.

“What is that?!” asked Dash reverently.

AJ looked down to the lieutenant’s waistband, where stuck in her belt was Sunset’s imperial dagger. She gave a low whistle, “Now that is a mighty dangerous looking pig poker, why’re’ya wearin’ it like that?”

Sunset smiled at them and casually draped her left hand over the hilt like she’d been doing so all her life, which the group realized she likely had, “It’s official Imperial dress code for standard uniform wear…well, with pants, anyway. The miniskirt uniform has a thigh harness for a sheath.”

“I believe what our dear Jacqueline means, darling, is why are you wearing it with your Federation uniform? It’s hardly standard on this ‘side of the looking glass,’ as it were,” replied Rarity.

Sunset’s answering grin was downright shy, “I thought…I thought she’d keep it, maybe put it in lockup…but she handed it back to me and said, ‘Your past does not define you, but it does inform you and remind you how far you’ve come. Your past is not today, but it will always be a part of you, and will be your compass to the future.”

There was a reverent silence as the junior officers pondered their captain’s wisdom.

As usual, it was Dash that broke the spell, “Hey, Sunset; can I try it out?”

Sunset scoffed, “Dash, these things can cut through parsteel and are forged to survive being in a photon torpedo explosion! I’m not letting someone who can only barely pass her hand-phaser qualifications play with it.”

Dash let out a put-upon groan as the rest of the group laughed. As they tapered off, Twilight asked, “So what did she say about your…ah, ‘legal status?’”

Sunset snorted a laugh, “She’s known about it since she dug up my file last year. I guess she shuffled the right paperwork and talked to the right people. I’ve been a legitimate officer of Starfleet and citizen of the Federation for months now.”

AJ’s hand went up to tip a cowboy hat she wasn’t presently wearing, but she followed through on the motion anyway, “Shee-yoot, didn’t I tell you there was nothin’ to worry about?”

Sunset blushed, “Yeah, yeah.” Waving her hand between them as though attempting to stave off smoke, she simply said, “Anyone want to take in some holodeck time? I hear there’s a new dungeon crawl sim and I could really blow off steam. Fluttershy, you can be the barbarian again if you want.”

The quietest member of their group perked up with a hushed, “Yay!” At everyone else’s nod, they left the mess hall, not paying attention to the other people still at their tables nor the man behind the bar.

“Very interesting, Sunset my dear,” he said to himself as he absently polished a glass, “Even with your timeline ripped, torn, and mangled, you still have a shockingly familiar story. I wonder who arranged that?” He blinked, and between one blink and the next, so quickly the casual observer might swear it was a trick of the light, his eyes went from fully human-normal in appearance to being a sickly yellow, then back. “Don’t worry, you’re ol’ Uncle Discord will be making sure you’re back to the world and timeline you belong in, as soon as I figure out why you’re here in the first place.” So saying, he snapped his fingers and flashed bright enough that the entire room (and a few other parts of the ship) should have seen it, but they somehow didn’t. When the flash was gone, so was the man.

Prologue 2 - Meet Cutes Don't Have an Age Limit

Soun Tendo was startled from his reading by the door chime. He blinked a few times needlessly, as though that would help dislodge his imagination from the fantasy novel he’d been reading enough to make sense of the incongruous noise. Realizing that someone must be at the front door, he put the PADD down on the coffee table, noted with a start that the tea he poured himself had been sitting long enough to have grown cold, and then hustled from the enclosed patio overlooking one of the uncountable beautiful bays Risa was known for.

He made it to the front foyer before the chime sounded again, “Coming!” he announced. I do miss Kasumi, he thought, She’s a lovely, wonderful woman, and certainly deserves to study on Earth like she wanted, to…but goodness, I’m getting too old for such a big house! Finally reaching the door, he checked the small viewscreen to see a woman in a Starfleet uniform holding the arm of… oh, dear, he didn’t…?

He tapped the button to open the door, stepping back enough to allow it space to swing open. The swinging door, instead of a pocket door, was an older affectation, one that most people didn’t bother with, but he enjoyed it as a harmless reminder of the world Risa had once been amidst all the hubbub and advancement the last century or two had brought. “Oh, dear. Ranma…”

“Hey, Mr. Tendo…” grumbled the 16-year-old. Presently presenting male, Ranma had his backpack on and was wearing his usual clothing, that being an ensemble that looked like it jumped straight out of a period holonovel set in the pre-Federation era on Risa’s southern continent. Soun knew the boy found the clothes comfortable in either form, but he did have a tendency to stick out like a sore thumb. At least when he was ‘going full girl’ (as the child liked to say), he preferred more modern clothing.

“Ah, so you do know this delinquent,” interjected the woman. Soun took a better look at her, noting specifically the ‘special services’ comm badge on the left breast of her uniform top and an unusual box, appearing to have some medical diagnostic readouts on the small display strapped to her right bicep. The box required a specialized cut to the uniform, indicating that there was likely some form of interface to the skin that the uniform fabric would have introduced difficulties with. Not a medication dispenser, then. Curious… Doing his best to ignore his curiosity, he did note that the woman was…’statuesque’ was a bit of a misnomer, as she was certainly tall for a Risan, if his 20 years in the Fleet did him any favors, it was in being able to spot the small, sometimes cosmetic differences between the humanoid species of the galaxy. Human, most likely, he concluded. The uniform did absolutely nothing to minimize her figure, and it was an incredibly gorgeous figure at that. His wife (ancestor’s preserve her spirit) had always been a fine specimen, but she had been more the purely athletic type. This woman’s figure was as though someone had custom built a fit, busty, round-hipped Platonic ideal of a woman and then shattered the mold once she’d been cast. Long, lustrous hair framed an almost doll-like face, and though Soun could see she wasn’t wearing any cosmetics, her face defied nearly all human, Betazoid, and even Risan beauty standards. Her eyes had an almost smokey, bedroom quality that captured his gaze, a delicate looking nose, plump lips that were practically a rosebud on an ivory dish…

…lips that were turned up in a smirk. At him.

He cleared his throat, as though that might minimize the embarrassment of openly ogling a member of Starfleet. “Oh, uh, yes. Of course, I know Ranma. What sort of trouble did he get into this time?”

One perfect eyebrow lifted, “Gets into trouble regularly, then?”

Soun smiled conspiratorially, “Constantly. Please come in, I can at least get you some tea while you’re explaining what happened.”

The woman not un-gently pushed Ranma into the home as Soun backed up, not quite frog marching the boy into the foyer. The woman glanced down and saw the spots by the door for footwear, and once the door closed with a ‘clack,’ finally released Ranma so she could pull off her boots one at a time, bending and twisting in very interesting ways…

Clearing his throat again, he said, “Ranma, take a seat in the living room, I’ll be back with the tea.”

Before Soun could fully turn, Ranma spoke up, “Can you bring me some cold water, Uncle Tendo?”

Soun’s features softened in understanding, “That bad?” He noticed the woman watching this interaction with interest.

Ranma’s only response was a downcast nod.

Several minutes later, Soun returned with a tray carrying an old-style teapot that some ancestor of his had bought off a merchant from Earth, two teacups, and a glass of water. He set the tray on the coffee table in front of the couch, which was now occupied by Ranma and the visiting woman.

“Now,” said Soun as he sat in the chair opposite the woman and began preparing the tea service, “What seems to be the trouble?”

The woman crossed her legs as she leaned back, “I’m Lt. Commander Hinako Ninomiya, I work in the recruitment office in the Northwest Province branch.”

“The Northwest…?! Ranma! You shouldn’t be on another continent on your own!”

Ranma flinched a little, but waved his hand dismissively, “Pops showed me some tricks to get the transporters to let me go pretty much anywhere I wanna go. I was fine.”

The older man frowned, “Yes, and you do remember that kind of thing was one of the reasons I was able to convince your mother to revoke his parenting rights, don’t you?”

Ranma just shrugged, his eyes fixating on the glass of water.

Soun softened, “You…you are allowed to use that anytime you want in this house, you know that, right?”

Ranma nodded and muttered, “In a minute.”

Soun nodded and turned his attention back to Lt. Comm. Ninomiya, “I apologize, you were saying?”

“Well, Ranma here did a surprisingly good job of falsifying quite a few records and spoofing the scanners when he applied to enter the Fleet. Had it not been for the in-depth medical scan, he might have pulled it off. The poor clerk nearly had a heart attack when the entire complex suddenly went to an automatic red alert when the system flagged his genetics as…well…”

Soun sighed, “…augmented. Yes…”

“Ah, so you’re aware.”

“Of course,” replied the Tendo patriarch, “It’s a bit of a tragic story, I’m afraid. Ranma’s father considers himself to be…” Soun waffled a bit, trying to find a way to soft-peddle a description of his one-time friend.

“Pops is a thief and a liar,” snapped Ranma sulkily.

“Mister Saotome…!” began Hinako.

“No, no, the boy…isn’t wrong, just being…’teenager blunt,’ if you will.” Soun steepled his fingers, “Genma…used to be my best friend. He considered himself a traditionalist, and honestly for a bit so did I. We had dreams of restoring some of the lost traditions of Risa…but then we met some lovely women, we both got married, and I had three daughters and that…taught me some perspective. I looked at the traditions we were seeking to revive and realized that my daughters wouldn’t necessarily want to grow up in that world, so I lost my drive for it.”

“Genma had a son, though,” he nodded at Ranma, “And that seemed to have the opposite effect that my daughters had on me. When Ranma was old enough to talk, Genma started dragging the boy out on what Genma called ‘archaeological expeditions,’ but…”

“…grave robbing,” muttered Ranma.

Soun winced, “Not…necessarily, but there were a few old graveyards that had some reported vandalism that occurred in the areas Genma was visiting. Never could prove it, though.” He sighed, “Genma heard about an old site, purportedly held some lost technology that would, naturally, have computers with old libraries of data…whatever it was he thought he was going to find…” Soun shook his head.

Ranma apparently had had enough of the conversation and abruptly reached out to snatch up the glass of water and up-ended it over his head.

Hinako’s surprise at the act of self-soddening was swiftly buried at the shock of seeing Ranma suddenly lose nearly a foot of height, exhibit a complete and near instant change of hair color, as well as a general feminizing of features. The girl that had once been a boy stood up and shook a little water off and sulked out of the room.

“The console is charged, I think Akane loaded some new games on it,” said Soun as Ranma passed him.

Ranma waved a hand in acknowledgement over her shoulder, “Thanks Uncle Soun.” In moments, she disappeared into the depths of the house.

Soun poured Hinako more tea while she recovered. She finally managed to sputter, “But…his…her…their genetic scan came up pure Risan!”

Soun nodded, “Genma had stumbled onto an old genetics lab that predated the founding of the Federation. Whatever the lab’s goals were is lost to time, but one of the viruses that had been in statis was designed to reactivate dormant gene structures, but the geneticists who designed it hadn’t yet gotten to the point of properly identifying which genes to reactivate.”

Soun warmed up his own tea and took a sip. “The ocean contains many mysteries we still haven’t plumbed, both here on Risa and on your Earth.” She blinked owlishly at this apparent non-sequitur, but he continued unabated, “There’s a type of fish that lives in the reefs of the southern-most ocean of our Western hemisphere, it has a neat little survival trick; during mating season, if there are too many males or too many females, some of them simply swim to different temperature water and their gender biology inverts. ‘Surplus’ males become females and vice versa. Poor Ranma’s genetic code got scrambled in that accident and now if he’s splashed in cold enough water, he turns into a girl. Hot water returns him to his birth form.”

With an actual explanation under her belt, Hinako’s crisis of sanity began to resolve itself. “I see, so in the strictest of senses, Ranma’s genetics are… ‘augmented,’ but only because of an accident. Are there any other effects?”

Soun stroked his mustache, “We’re not entirely sure. The accident only happened last year, and we haven’t seen any additional symptoms or abilities, but then, he hasn’t even finished puberty yet.”

Hinako nodded, “And what happened with Genma?”

Some irritation snuck into his voice as he continued the story, “Yes, well, you can imagine my surprise when Genma dragged poor Ranma directly here after being exposed to gene altering viruses.” He took a sip of tea to calm himself, “I think…I think that was my first ‘red flag’ to how bad Saotome had gotten. He was an irresponsible parent, a vagabond treasure hunter, and I would find out later a womanizer who’d abandoned his wife.”

The lt. commander was clearly invested by this point, quietly sipping her tea and hanging on his words, “What did he do?”

“During the time I was dealing with my wife’s funeral, he had taken his son in the middle of the night from their home. He left a note promising he’d bring Ranma back after the journey as a ‘man among men.’” Her shocked gasp was met with his understanding nod. “I found out from Ranma that the poor child was taken so early he wasn’t even aware he had a mother. My eldest, Kasumi, helped to track Nodoka…that’s Ranma’s mother, down. She and I met at a restaurant so I could…question her, to see if she was involved in the way Ranma had been brought up.”

“She was not. She was, in fact, appalled by her husband’s behavior. The divorce was finalized last month, and we’ve been trying to help Ranma manage, but it’s been…a challenge. A divorce with an abusive parent is rough on children to begin with but add Ranma’s condition to the mix?” he shook his head.

“Ranma didn’t mention a mother, just that she didn’t want to go back with his…their father.”

Soun shook his head and gazed into his tea, “Poor Nodoka. She’s trying her best, but she and Genma found each other through the same ‘traditionalist’ circles. She’s holding Ranma to 200 year old masculine expectations while also teaching him how to be a proper lady.”

Hinako cringed, “Yikes…I might have some resources for them, if they’re open to the help.”

Soun’s eyebrows shot up, “There’s…resources for Ranma’s condition? From Starfleet?”

She blushed slightly, “Oh, no, not Starfleet.” She glanced down at herself as though remembering that she was wearing the uniform. “I only somewhat recently joined, it’d been a life-long dream, but Chrischild’s Syndrome…” she gestured to the armband.

“Oh…Oh!” Soun sat forward, “You’re that patient? We heard about that a few years ago! The first cure of its kind due to the rareness of the disease.”

She was now blushing full face, “Well, yes. But before they found the treatment I worked in education; high school to be specific. I was a teacher, and then when I couldn’t keep up with that I became a counselor. In cases like…well, I shouldn’t say, ‘like Ranma’s.’ I don’t think there are any other cases like theirs. But where a child is dealing with gender dysphoria, the counselor provides resources to the child for treatments and support, and the parents are provided resources for support and education. It sounds like that’s what’s needed in this case, I’m guessing Ranma hasn’t been directed to a therapist…?”

“Not that Nodoka has told me, though I think you’re right, she’ll probably appreciate whatever assistance you can offer. Speaking of, I think I should contact her, she and Ranma were supposed to be visiting a cousin of his, I’m not even sure if she’ll be aware he tried to slip away…again.”

Akane’s classes had run late, again, but at least she was able to take them with two of her best friends. She wished Ranma had joined the classes, but his mother had been insistent that they spend the summer session visiting family that he’d missed the chance for while he was haring around the wilderness of Risa with his father. Not like he needs the class, but I wish we had more time together.

The pair of them were like…well, fire and water, and which was which was as fickle as either element could be. But they were consistently drawn together, somehow finding common ground despite what seemed like the universe doing its best to drive them apart.

She held her breath as the transporter tech started the beaming process. She knew she didn’t have to, but she always felt a little like she should, like somehow she was actually in the vacuum of space during transport instead of just being in the matter stream.

Letting out the held breath as she materialized in front of the house, she was reaching for the biometrics pad to unlock the door when she heard a woman’s laughter from inside the house! She controlled the urge to charge in to protect her family, there were no alarms and it was a happy laugh, so there was probably nothing to worry about.

Thumbing the pad to confirm her ID, it unlocked and the door swung open. She kicked off her shoes, noting the Starfleet standard issue boots mixed in with the other shoes, and she also noticed Ranma’s pair. I didn’t think Nodoka was in Starfleet…?

Akane stepped deeper into the house and saw in the living room daddy was in his favorite chair, but he was paying almost no attention to who had just come in. His eyes flicked over to her momentarily and he gave her a smile and a nod, but then…turned back to his visitor.

Who was NOT Nodoka.

Who had an armband on that had some sort of device connected to it and a Starfleet uniform that, in Akane’s opinion, left nothing to the imagination for what the woman had underneath the clothing.

Tamping the spike of anger over a woman who was NOT her mother being that intimate with her father she took a closer look at the room and realized that daddy’s favorite tea set was out and the teapot was clearly empty, and what looked like takeout from the Andorian seafood place nearby was spread out between them. They both had a recyclable paper take-out container in one hand and an eating utensil in the other. Her father was using a regular Risan spork (to use the Earth name for the utensil, though the Earth version didn’t have the semi-sharp edge the Risan version did) and the woman was using what Akane recognized as Earth-style chopsticks. They were trading stories, it looked like, and daddy had just finished one and now the lady was talking about working as a high school teacher of all things.

Flumoxed and without any idea how to respond, she decided to seek out Ranma. He only had the one pair of shoes in his guy form, so it was unlikely that he wasn’t here if the shoes were.

It took her a bit, but she found her on the enclosed patio with the game console they shared. The part-time girl was playing something that required an emulator, but beyond the pseudo-holographic rendered images, Akane couldn’t make out what the game was. “Hey, Ranma.”

“’sup, Tomb…Akane.”

Akane smiled a bit, knowing he couldn’t see it with her focus on the game. Seems like she’s finally learning about calling people names they don’t like. I thought I’d be ‘Tomboy’ to her until the heat death of the universe. “So…who’s the lady talking with daddy?”

Ranma paused the game and rolled her eyes dramatically, “Some chi…er, lady from Starfleet Recruiting. She’s been here since she dragged me over this morning.”

Akane’s eyes bugged out as she glanced at the wall clock, “…she’s from Starfleet? Doesn’t she have other duties?”

“It was kinda the end of her duty shift when she brought me here.”

Akana pondered this a moment, “…she brought you here…which means…”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Akane sighed and settled into the seat next to her on the couch. “…do you want a hug?”

Ranma glared morosely at the game console before setting it down on the lounge table, then nodded silently.

Akane hugged the smaller girl close. For her part, Ranma just leaned against Akane, practically snuggling up under her friend’s chin. Akane refrained from giggling, that usually set the ‘man among men’ off and they’d get into a fight, and when she was needing a hug she tended to get…screechy about it. Akane had talked to the school counselor about it, and it had taken several sessions, but the counselor had finally gotten her to understand that Ranma’s escalation was in response to her own emotions, not anything Akane said. It took a month or two after that for the pair of them to get to the point where they could talk their problems out instead of going straight to an argument. It took quite a few more sessions with the counselor for her to admit to herself that she liked the aquatransexual shapeshifting augment, and not like she liked her friends or her sisters.

“Weren’t you supposed to be with your mom this week?” asked Akane, her eyes fixed on the waves lapping the beaches distantly visible through the panel windows surrounding the patio.

“Mmm…” Ranma mumbled, “Yer dad called mom earlier, mom said it was late enough there I might as well stay the night here, ‘s’worried ‘bout transporter credits ‘r somethin.’”

Ranma must be getting tired… “Heh, I guess she forgets that the transporters don’t have credits anymore. The Federation finished upgrading the network last year.”

The redhead shrugged as she nestled a bit more into Akane’s lap. “’sokay, pr’fer sleepin’ here more’n sleepin’ at some stranger’s house jus’ cuz their related t’mom.”

Akane let Ranma shift about for a few heartbeats more before she took pity on her friend and swept her fully into Akane’s lap. Ranma let out a token bleet of protest before settling back down and curling up tightly, the taller girl’s arms holding her close. Within a couple of minutes, Ranma had started dozing, the warm hissing sound of light snoring coming from her.

Akane adjusted Ranma’s position just a little, correcting her posture so she wasn’t snoring, and settled back, letting the distant ocean waves still visible in the setting sunlight lull her into a meditative state. The sound of her father’s laughter occasionally breaking the trance.

After a while, she heard the door open and could hear her sister, always more level headed and responsive when the unexpected happened, start to ‘grill’ their visitor. She knew she’d get all the info she needed about the strange woman from Nabiki, probably in the morning, so she did her best to tune it out.

She glanced down at the mop of red hair and sighed contentedly. “Ranma,” she murmured, “I think…I think I’m falling in love with you.”

She kissed the top of Ranma’s head and leaned her head back against the sofa, and let the sound of her father and sister’s voices lull her to sleep.

Special Episode - Half Moon

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