Ranma 1/2

Disclaimer: I don’t own Ranma, Rumiko Takahashi does. I just borrowed some of the characters. Rated: NC-17

Shades of Home

Chapter 27

The trial didn’t happen as quickly as everyone hoped. The prosecutor kept Ranma in debriefing until the last minute, not realizing that Steven had gotten the trial board together so fast.

Ranma had been allowed to sleep for two hours.

“Excuse me, young man, my name is Adams and I’m here to represent you.”

Ranma opened bleary eyes and groaned. “It’s a fuckin’ conspiracy. I”m not gonna get any sleep, any time soon, am I?”

Adams opened his briefcase and extracted a sheaf of papers. After flipping through them, he tapped them back into perfect alignment with fussy pats of his fingers.

“I know you have been questioned but I have my own questions and we need to discuss a plea bargain.”

“NO! Absolutely no plea bargain. You have no idea what that man did. If he gets away with it, none of my people will ever be safe from that kind of manipulation. He just doesn’t care if one of us gets killed. As long as his mission gets accomplished, he’s satisfied. I told the prosecutor all about it, read the reports. ”

Ranma knew exactly what he was going to do and his lawyer was going to cooperate or he would represent himself.

“I see. Well, I’ve read the reports and quite frankly, I’m appalled that anyone would do half the things that Downs person has gotten away with.”

Adams fiddled with his tie and then picked up a report and studied it for a moment.

“Steven has managed to push the Review Board through with amazing speed. In fact, it’s as soon as we can get prepared. We have about ten hours.”

Ranma just put his head down on the table, he couldn’t sleep when his lawyer was preparing his defense, he’d need questions answered. He had now been awake for over 48 hours with one short nap {If new recruits can survive Hell Week, I can do this}

~ * ~

“I don’t understand how a young man your age can be so ill informed. You don’t seem to understand anything about how a court works. At twenty-six you should know more, even though it is a Military Court, many of the procedures are the same. Did you skip Citizenship all together?”

Adams was beginning to quietly lose his temper.

“I’m only sixteen, Citizenship is next semester, and I’m not military. “

Ranma was getting really tired of the whole thing, he wanted the trial over, he was so tired all he wanted to do was sleep. He’d even gotten over being hungry.

He’d now been awake for fifty-three hours.

Adams fished around in his briefcase and compared two pieces of paper.

“Humm. I have your birth certificate and here, in this folder, a resume. The resume says 26 but your birth certificate definitely indicates your age is 16.

“We’ve got him now for sure. Falsification of this sort of document is a felony in any country.

“We have three hours before the Hearing. You need to get cleaned up.”

Adams did a double take and flushed hotly. He’d been so intent on his preparations he’d actually not noticed what Ranma looked like and the dim lighting in the interrogation room hadn’t helped either.

~ * ~
Vignette

We really got him. He’s going to show up at his Hearing looking like an undisciplined, loose canon.
We’ll be off the hook, Department 13 will be discredited and we can have our sanction back.

Downs straightened his silk tie, his suit was Armani and he was wearing Gucci loafers and carrying a Coach briefcase. He looked every inch the well-qualified intelligence officer he was supposed to be.

~ * ~

“We have to get you cleaned up quickly. You need a new uniform and . . . ahem . . . a shower. Have you seen a doctor? I’m really sorry, young man. I tend to be somewhat single minded at times. I didn’t notice your condition until just now. The lighting in here leaves much to be desired. We’ll have to hurry.”

But Adams was too late. The guards came for Ranma, they put him in transport chains and took him to the holding cell just outside the court room.

They left him there, but he didn’t dare fall asleep yet, even though his body was screaming for rest.

He had to watch the proceedings, relayed to the cell via closed circuit TV.

Adams was a very good lawyer, so instead of mourning the mess Ranma was, he decided to make it work for them. He entered the Hearing room and, after all the preliminaries were over, he addressed the court.

“If it please the Court, my client had been unable to make himself presentable due to the rapidity with which these proceedings were arranged.

“I would also like to present these documents which prove the true age of this brave young boy. Yes I said boy, as you can see, Saotome Ranma is sixteen years of age.”

The files, which the three generals had been provided, outlined all the charges, extenuating circumstances and the fact that Ranma was indeed only sixteen.

The trial was boring in the extreme, as Adams and Wheedon were polite and professional, neither interrupted the other, so the proceedings went quickly.

When Wheedon was presented with the proof of Ranma’s age, he agreed to drop the treason charges immediately. Downs tugged on his arm and protested a little too loudly. He was charged with contempt of court and reprimanded, as well as sentenced to thirty days suspended sentence.

After most of the proceedings were over, the Review Board (they aren’t referred to as a Military Tribunal anymore) requested Ranma be brought in.

He’d now been awake for almost sixty hours.

All three generals were shocked to see that, not only was Ranma shackled, he hadn’t been given the opportunity to clean up. He was still nearly naked, dirty, sweaty, scraped and cut. And he looked so very young standing there with his head up, feet braced, back straight.

“Well, young man, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t know what you want, so I’ll just get it all off my chest and then you can do whatever you want to me.

“Downs put two of my best friends in danger, said they were expendable. I think he knew that witch was opening some kind of portal and thought, if he stole her magical objects, it’d shut her down. He didn’t care if they got hurt or not. In fact, I think he was hoping they would get killed, so he wouldn’t have to figure out how to get then to keep their mouths shut.

“He got me chained up so I couldn’t go with. Then he just took off.

“I’m just a rude, crude, smart ass kid, so no one really listened to me. After Danny and Leela got caught I . . . “

Ranma sighed and sagged, he dug the heels of his hands into his burning eyes snapping the chains in the process.

“Gomen, Gomen nasai. Onegai. Look, I know I’m not making much sense, but I’ve stolen stuff, gotten myself captured, been beaten up, rescued Leela, gone back into the hotel, rescued Danny, fought off or killed about fifty idiots in funky robes, destroyed an empowered pentacle, and had a hotel fall on me, dug myself out, been arrested, interrogated for the last hundred hours, I’ve been up for about sixty hours with two or three hours sleep. I’m tired, filthy, and sleepy.

“Can we just get this over with. You know what kind of bastard he is now. Just don’t sweep this all under a rug. OK? Oh yeah, I’m sorry about the chains.” Ranma lifted his wrist, chain dangling.

“Hump. While we are deliberating, someone replace those defective shackles.”

The generals put their heads together, one of them suggested that Ranma had exaggerated about the hotel but the reports were very detailed and the data had been analyzed throughly by their people. The reports indicated that a significant portion of a building had indeed fallen on this weary looking sixteen-year-old.

Standing between two guards chosen by Adams for their size, Ranma looked pitiful. He was at least a head shorter than the shorter guard, the chains stood out against Ranma’s filth darkened skin and his overall condition could be graded as poor to awful.

Standing next to a carefully groomed Downs, he looked heroic, or horrific

Downs, on the other hand, looked like a shyster lawyer. His suit was too expensive for his rank and Gucci and Coach made the wrong impression even more evident. With his slicked back hair and fresh manicure, all he’d done was cut his own throat. Everyone knew who had prevented Ranma from having even the simple creature comfort of being clean.

~ * ~

“Well, Well, Well . . . As head of this review board I have several items which I must address.

“One, Mr. Downs, you will be taken into custody at once, your actions are now under investigation. Steven Campbell is reinstated as head of Dept. 13.

“Now, unfortunately, we have the very real charges against young Mr. Saotome.

“First, three counts of assault and battery, one against Mr. Downs and two against Mr. Campbell.

“Your counselor, in pleading you not guilty, brought attention to the abuses of Downs and co. However, that left you open to stockade time. We have very little leeway in this. These charges are serious and, even taking your tender age into account, there is only so much we can do.”

The speaker rubbed his hand over the page before him.

“The rules of this organization are very clear. I have read them several times and I cannot believe that they actually allow for flogging . . .”

The uproar was immediate and loud. All Ranma’s friends had been quietly waiting for Ranma to be acquitted but it was clear now that it wasn’t going to happen that way. They were talking about flogging Ranma.

The general hammered his gavel on the table until everyone quieted down.

“Order in the Court. These proceedings will not be interrupted again. I’ll clear the room.”

Everyone shut up and sat down, no one wanted to be thrown out and miss the sentencing. Ranma needed all the support he could get.

“As I was saying. I don’t believe it. It’s not civilized. We have discussed this extensively, that’s why we took so long to make a decision.

“The minimum sentence we can give this brave, self sacrificing young man is 90 days in the stockade. Take him away.”

He banged his gavel.

Ranma just nodded his head, he was so exhausted that all he could do was stand and wait for someone to tell him what to do.

By now he’d been up for 66 hours.

~ * ~

When they got him to the stockade, the Master Gunnery Sargent in charge was waiting for them, intending to make it plain to this George that he wasn’t going to get special treatment. He changed his mind

Ranma was staggering, only managing to keep up right because the two guards he was walking between were practically carrying him. He looked like he’d just stepped out of hell itself. As they got him in the door the Gunnie had a fit.

“What the hell is going on here, he looks like he stepped off a battle field into the court room and then straight here.”

“Well, that’s about right. He’s been up for most of three days. I don’t think he’s had anything to eat and not much to drink either. If you take my advice you’ll skip intake and let the poor kid get some sleep. You can print him and lecture him later. He probably won’t remember anything you say to him anyway.”

~ * ~

“Hey, Buck, you remember that kid that broke your rope?”

Buck punched in and grinned at his partner, “Sure do. Kid was a real pistol. Strong as an ox but seemed really nice. Why?”

“He’s asleep in the drunk tank. They brought him in a while ago. Sentenced to 90 days for assaulting an officer. Wouldn’t believe the mess he’s in. Looks like he crawled out of hell.” Tony shook his head. “I think they railroaded him. Didn’t even let him clean up. Damn shame if you ask me.”

“Didn’t ask you. Which tank is he in and why is he in a tank instead of a regular cell?”

Buck headed for intake at a trot with Tony right behind him.

“I said he looks like he crawled out of hell and I meant literally, he’s filthy. So they put him in a tank so we can clean up after him. He stinks. I don’t know how long he was up, but one of the guys who brought him in said something about nearly 72 hours and a building falling on him.”

Tony trotted hard to keep up with Buck’s longer legs.

Buck took one look a Ranma and decided he was going to clean him up. Unfortunately, Ranma wasn’t waking up to be cleaned. He was out cold. Ranma, on a good day, was fairly hard to wake up. Unless you tried to sneak up on him. But shaking him didn’t work or it worked too well. In this case it didn’t work.

Buck took some sensible precautions as he started to wash Ranma, he made noise, putting the wash pan down with a soft thump and splashing the water when he wet the rag. He also talked to Ranma.

“Ok, Saotome, I’m gonna wash your face now. Silly boy, don’t make such a face, it’s only soap.”

Buck kept up a flow of comment as he washed Ranma’s face, hands and arms. He couldn’t do much for the rest of him but at least he got off the worst of the dirt and blood.

“Saotome, I’m done. You’re about as clean as I can get you. I’m gonna take your boots off, didn’t your mother teach ya not to go to bed with them on? When you wake up, you can get a shower before we sign you in.”

Buck picked up his mess and went to speak with the Captain.

Captain McIntosh was reading the intake report, he had a George on his hands and he wasn’t happy. He’d heard about the Georges and the report he held was making him even more nervous.

The man was schizophrenic or psychotic, had a split personality, thought he was a cat.

The man was twenty-six, they’d put some kind of note on his age but he couldn’t read kanji so he had no idea what it said.

“Captain. I’d like to talk to you about Saotome. He’s really a mess. They didn’t let him get cleaned up, or even sleep, before his trial. I think he got the bums rush and for some reason he’s letting them do it. We really need to see that he doesn’t get screwed over any more.”

Buck worried about Ranma. Captain McIntosh was 'by the book' all the way. If it wasn’t contained between the covers of the rule book, he had trouble handling it. He was good at his job, keeping a bunch of petty criminals in line wasn’t easy, but he did it.

He ruled with a fair hand, follow the rules and the sentence was easy, break them and he cracked down with a vengeance.

There wasn’t much trouble in his stockade. However, he never dealt with much more than drunks, AWOL’s and the occasional misappropriation of supplies. The really bad cases were just released into the custody of their services or sent back wherever they came from. In other words, Ranma was going to have a major freak factor and no telling how McIntosh was going to react.

Captain McIntosh tapped the file he’d just read. Downs had made sure that it was as biased as possible, so, until it was changed, Ranma was going to have a bad reputation.

“I’ve read his file. He’s nothing but a trouble maker. He thinks he’s above the rules because he’s on the Special Squad.

“I understand you actually looked in on him so I want a report on his condition. But he isn’t getting special consideration. If he was brought in in bad condition I want it corrected asap, but he gets signed in like everyone else. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. He’s still sleeping. They kept him up for almost three days and you’ll have a report of his mission activities on your desk as soon as I can get it for you. You really need to know what you are dealing with.

“Just don’t forget he’s a good kid, he’s just got in over his head and they fucked him over.”

Buck was even more worried now. He had no idea how Ranma was going to react to the rules and regulations of a stockade or how the other prisoners were going to react to him. And McIntosh’s reaction to Ranma’s file didn’t bode any good either.

“If he has been abused by the prosecutors office, I’ll file a complaint. See to it that he’s taken proper care of and warn the guards that, while we aren’t taking any shit out of him, neither will I tolerate them abusing him in anyway. Make sure he understand the rules. I don’t want any trouble though misunderstanding.”

McIntosh kept his head down, he knew that these men could interpret a direct stare as a challenge, he wasn’t getting into a confrontation with Buck over some hard case.

“Read the charges and act accordingly. I don’t want to have to put you on report.

“Be careful with him. He’s already proven himself to be dangerous. Assaulting a superior officer is a very serious charge. That’s what I don’t understand. Why don’t they just boot him?”

Buck looked at his feet so as not to glare at his commanding officer.

“He’s a George! There are only three young ones and we need him so badly. If he was a mass murderer, they’d still cut him major slack. I don’t know exactly why Ranma did what he did but I’m sure, in my own mind, he had a good reason.

“If I were you, I’d be really careful of him. He’s got combat reflexes he can’t help. If he’s startled or abused, he’s going to react badly, for us. Also he’s strong as a . . . I don’t know what. Really, really strong.”

“What do you suggest?” McIntosh didn’t have men on his command that he didn’t trust, he waited patiently while Buck thought

“Hhunn? Ranma has a personal routine, training, meditation, stuff like that, even some classes, I think. The closer to his routine he can stay, the less he’s gonna feel threatened. Let him exercise, keep him worn out and we’ll have less trouble.

“ I hate to say this but every one of the stupid drunks we have in here now is gonna want to start a fight with him, just to see how good he is. I don’t know how to discourage that but we’ve gotta.”

Buck knew how hard it was going to be on Ranma but the only suggestion he could come up with was, “If he’s in the exercise yard, he’s gonna have to be restrained, somehow. I don’t like it but we can’t chain up the ten guys that are gonna want to fight him, so we gotta restrain him. Not fair, but there you are. It’s either that or deal with ten different fights. Damn!”

Captain McIntosh made his decision and wasn’t pleased with it, he hated favoritism, and it’s opposite equally.

“You’re right. It’s not fair to him, but we can’t have him fighting. Make sure he understands why we’re doing it. Find out what his routine is and let him stick as close to it as he can. If he has enough to do, we may keep him busy enough to stay out of trouble. I don’t like this. It feels wrong.”

~ * ~

Ranma woke up with a jerk, in his face, stinking of garlic.

“Nani yo! Baka! Nan da kor’ya! Omao wa ku . . . “

Ranma realized that he was kneeling on a man with his left hand on his throat and his right groping at his thigh for his knife.

“Shit! What the hell is the matter with you people? Do you have a death wish? Don’t do that!”

Ranma scrambled off the guy and backed into a corner. He looked like a mad man with his unbound hair falling in his blood shot eyes.

Master Gunnery Sargent Polk arrived on the run.

“What is going on here?”

The man Ranma had attacked stayed where he was.

”I don’t know. I came in to wake him up and when I leaned over him he jumped me. I didn’t do nothing.”

Gunnie Polk grunted, this wasn’t starting out good.

“Yeah, ya did. Ya leaned over a combat vet and probably breathed on him. That’s enough to get ya killed. Hell! I’d knock ya into next week myself.”

Just then a new guard rushed up with a stun gun and immediately fired it at Ranma. The darts streaked toward Ranma but they never connected, Ranma slapped them out of the air, they stuck into the wall by his head and sparked.

Ranma decided the only way to defuse this situation was to claim fault. He put his palms together at heart level bowed form the waist and apologized, “ Moshi waki arimasen! Onegai, Shimaimasen.”

He looked directly at the Gunnie. “Tasukete!”

Gunnie Polk got a good look at Ranma and swore.

“Damnit! Here, get out. Go back to the desk and stay there. You’re on report for unauthorized use of a stun gun.”

He snatched the gun from the guard and pushed him down the hall.

Holding out a hand to the man on the floor, he tried to soothe Ranma.

“Let me get dumb ass here out . . . Ok? . . . Don’t worry. He’s not hurt. Don’t do anything sudden. Ok? “

Ranma watched as his victim got to his feet and left quickly.

“What do you want? We can negotiate. But I’m warning you, all you’re doing is causing yourself grief. This is a real bad way to start out.”

Ranma let his shoulders slump. “Shimatta!” Ranma smacked himself on the forehead. “Shuri nuke me! Naze ore zo?”

The Gunnie groaned to himself. “Un. Yamero! . . . Un . . . Shit! Do you speak any English at all?”

“Yeah, I speak English. I’m sorry, when I get upset it kinda flies outta my head.”

Ranma scraped his hair out of his eyes and leaned back against the wall.

“I said . . . There is no excuse for my actions. Please, I’m sorry. Help me. Then I said Shit. You fuckin’ idiot. Why me?”

Ranma crossed his arms over his chest and his right ankle over his left. It put him off balance and hopefully would give him time to control his reactions.

“Thank God for small favors. Look, I know exactly what happened. I hate having someone lean over me when I’m sleeping, too. We’ll give it a pass. I’m gonna have a piece of two guys real soon. I”m sorry about that stun gun. I know it wasn’t necessary. Why don’t you come out of the cell? No one is going to hurt you.”

Ranma decided to do what he was told, as long as they didn’t start beating on him. So he came out of the dimly lit cell into the light of the hall. There were two guards and the Gunnie standing easy so as not to set him off again.

Their reaction to his condition was everything Ranma could have hoped for. They were horrified and said so. After some discussion it was decided to get him clean first.

“Then you get the two cent tour and the twenty-dollar lecture. Keep your nose clean, yada, yada, yada. Here’s the shower room. If anybody bothers you in anyway tell us at once. We don’t tolerate harassment. Understand?”

Ranma, who had been following the Gunnie’s tour, shook his head.

”Haven’t a clue. No one will bother me. Why would they? Most of the guys you’re worried about know what happens when you push me too far.”

The Gunnie sighed, he really hated this part of his job, to disillusion someone. “I mean if anyone tries to touch you in a sexual way . . . “ The Gunnie trailed off. He had looked into Ranmas eyes and seen pure hell.

“Then you’ll be sentencing me for murder.” Ranma wiped the bleak look from his face and turned to the shower. “How long can I stay in the shower? I’m really disgusting. I need soap and stuff. “ Ranma ran his hands through his hair, grimacing at the snarls.

A guy brought soap, shampoo, and clean clothes, he also brought Ranma’s boots.

They gave him everything and left him alone, telling him that he could take as long as he needed.

Ranma stood under the water, turning it up til it nearly steamed. He washed his hair three times and rinsed til the water ran clear. He scrubbed himself throughly, hissing at the sting of soap in his still healing cuts and scrapes. He soaped again and found himself kneeling on the tile floor under the hot running water, one hand pressed over his mouth so no one would hear him. {I’m so tired. I don’t wanna do this but I’m stuck}

“Hey kid, you fall in and drown or what? Come on, lets get this over with.”

The Gunnie decided to do the intake himself. He had experience with Combat himself and thought he would have a better time getting things done without causing another incident.

“Ok. You ever been arrested before?”

Ranma shook his head and started to braid his hair.

“Don’t bother. You’ll just have to take it down again. You can do that later.

“I’m gonna explain what’s gonna happen, so you don’t freak out. First, we take pictures, so we have a record of distinguishing marks. Scars, tattoos, like that. Then, we do a full body search. Don’t fight me on that, it’s got to be done, so just relax, let me do it and it won’t hurt. So . . . let’s get started. Then you can get dressed.”

Ranma endured the picture taking with fairly good grace. But the full body search left him shaking.

The Gunnie had told him what he was going to do before he did it. Having the man look in his mouth wasn’t bad, even when he’d used a piece of gauze to hold his tongue up and to each side. But when he’d gone below the belt, it had been all Ranma could do not to resist.

“OK, I don’t like this part any better then you will, so just get it over with. Bend over and hold your ankles. Don’t tense up.”

Ranma endured his impersonal probe but when he touched his testicles that was just about it. Ranma jumped and straightened.

“I can’t! Don’t touch me anymore.”

Ranma knew he was holding on by a thread.

“Easy kid. I”m done.”

Gunnie Polk changed the subject, trying to put Ranma a little more at ease. A full body search is humiliating in the extreme and for someone who had never endured one, Ranma had taken it better than most.

“Hell of a set of scars there. What happened, if I’m not pushing buttons?”

Ranma rubbed his shoulder.

“Imp clawed me. Sunny’s tried to heal it several times. I don’t generally scar, but she says she thinks the imp blood I got in them did something. I’ll have them forever. I don’t quite understand. The whip scars healed good. They only show when I get really mad or draw blood to the surface of my skin.”

While he talked Ranma quickly combed and braided his hair. He was pulling on pants when he mentioned the whip scars.

“Hold it! What scars? I’ve seen you. You don’t have any other scars. Don’t shit a shitter. “

Gunnie didn’t like guys who ‘put on airs’ to make themselves look tougher.

Ranma stopped dressing and stood for a moment with his shirt dangling from one hand. With his shoulders slightly slumped, head ducked, he looked at the Gunnie a second, then shrugged.

“Go get your camera. I’ll be ready for ya when ya get back.”

Gunnie Polk decided to humor the guy, he’d been cooperative, so he went to get a camera.

“God Damnit! What the hell happened to you? I’ve never seen anything like this. How did you do that?”

Ranma was standing in the middle of the room, shirt still in his hand, but with his back to the door. His scars showed red against his clean skin and looked, at first, like they were fresh.

“What happened? I was whipped half to death. They healed good. You can feel them under my skin. But when I draw blood to the surface this happens, a hot shower will do it too. Take your damn pictures, will ya?”

Gunnie Polk took his pictures, wondering just how much this kid had endured in his short life and hoping he wasn’t too twitchy. He hated dealing with guys with a bunch of twitches. It made it hard on everyone.

“Better get dressed, Captain isn’t gonna wait much longer. Won’t pay to piss him off.. Likes to give his lecture and all before lunch.”

“Lunch? What time is it? All of a sudden I’m starving.”

Ranma ran a washcloth over his face and turned the water off.

Finishing getting dressed, he saw that the shirt had a number over the pocket instead of his name and also had a big P on the back. The pants had a P on each leg. He knew what that stood for and it hurt.

Captain McIntosh had read the file from cover to cover and all he could think was he had a real problem.

He looked up at Ranma and started, “I know you feel you’ve been ill-treated but that is neither here nor there. You will serve 90 days here. They can either go quickly or be a miserable experience. It’s all up to you.

“You are the most violent prisoner we have at present. I will tolerate no fighting in my Stockade. Unfortunately your reputation makes you a prime target for some of the other men who want to build a reputation. They won’t leave you alone. We can’t chain them all up, so you will be in transport shackles whenever you are in the exercise yard. If you have a personal routine that we can tolerate, we’ll try to keep you on it.”

Ranma looked at the Captain in shock, how could he train if they kept him in chains.

“Uuhh. Well I do a lot of trainin’, up to five hours a day, then I meditate, I’ve also got school to keep up with. I’ve actually got a calculus test I’ve been avoiding for about a month now. So, if you could figure out a way that I could train, I’d really appreciate it.”

McIntosh just pinned Ranma with an evil look.

“I hate a liar. You can’t train that much. I’ll allow you to . . . “ He stopped talking as Ranma just went absolutely blank.

“Don’t. Ever. Call. Me. A Liar.”

Ranma took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“I will prove what I say. I run at least 5 miles a day. I do kata for at least two hours and I can go for four, easy. I meditate up to an hour and my studies take as long as they take. If you keep me in chains, I can’t train. And I need to keep in shape. If there is an attack, I can’t afford to be soft.”

“Stay calm. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ll give you a chance to prove what you say. You get up early to train, if I know martial artists. That leaves the yard empty. No one else will be there until late morning.

“The only time you will be restrained is if you are in the general population where the men who’ll want to fight are. As for running, obviously you can’t run around the compound but we’ve got several treadmills. I’ll make sure there is one free when you want it. “

“Now at 26 you aren’t the youngest prisoner here but . . . “

“Sixteen”

“What?!” McIntosh froze.

“Shimatta! Kuso! Can’t you read? I’m sixteen. Says so on my birth certificate. Downs changed the records. All he did was change the one’s to two’s.”

Ranma watched as both Polk and McIntosh turned white.

The captain looked at the records and pointed to the English top sheet.

“Right here it says 26. Who do you think you’re fooling with?”

Ranma looked at the paper. “Yeah, and right there, it’s amended.” He pointed to the kanji over the crossed out age.

McIntosh looked at Polk. “You read this?”

Polk eyed the paper, grimaced and nodded.

“Yeah, and it says sixteen.”

He scrabbled papers around.

“Shit! Here’s his birth certificate. He’s fuckin’ sixteen years’ old. I”m not even doin’ this. How the hell can anyone with a particle of common sense send a kid to . . . here.”

Ranma finally broke. He just covered his face with his hands and shook. Polk touched him on the shoulder.

“Look kid, we’ll get you transferred to a Juvenile Center in Nerima. It’ll be ok.”

Ranma snatched his hands away from his face.

“NO! You can’t do that. If you send me to a Juvie center, I’ll probably kill someone. I’m a real combat vet with all the crazy reflexes that come with it. You read my jacket, it’s real. You are the only place in the area that’s prepared to handle me. I can do this. I have to.”

Polk found himself with his arms around a softly sobbing, heart broken, sixteen year old.

“I have to stay. If you let me off, Downs will get away with everything. The Review Board won’t . . . he’ll figure some way to wiggle out. I stay, they crawl all over him and find out everything he’s been up to. I walk and so does he. Besides, I really did slug Steven.”

Ranma pushed Polk away gently, accepted the tissue he was offered and cleaned himself up.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to act like a baby. I’m just still tired and really hungry. I’m gettn kinda’ swimmy headed.”

McIntosh made his decision,only saying, “Ok. Get him something to eat. We’ll deal with everything else as it comes’ up. Here Saotome, this is the rule book. You’ll notice that it’s not very thick. The rules are few and simple.”

“Yeah.”, Ranma fired up one last time. “There are a few rules that come along with me and you can’t violate them. In this place, it’s way too dangerous. I don’t feel secure here, so I’m gonna be real touchy and I can’t help it, so tellin’ me t’ suck it up won’t work.”

Polk sighed, he hated dealing with twitchy vets, you couldn’t afford mistakes. “You got twitches, tell us about them.” He made a warning face at McIntosh, who didn’t understand about twitches.

“You can’t walk up behind me without warning. At least six feet away, you gotta make a noise. I can’t sit in the middle of a room, I gotta have my back to a wall or something. And absolutely don’t mess with me while I’m eating. Don’t touch my plate or food. I’ll jump ya in a second and I can’t seem to break the habit. I even slugged my best friend once. Don’t lean over me when I’m asleep. If ya need me to wake up, throw something at me.”

McIntosh looked at Polk, he was responsible for the day to day management of difficult prisoners and Ranma was turning out to be a problem of gigantic proportions. Polk just shrugged, everything depended on how cooperative Ranma was.

“Well Boss, either we’re screwed, or we got no problems we can’t handle. Depends on Saotome more than anything; if he wants to cooperate we’re ok, but if he wants to cause problems, we’re in deep shit”

Ranma decided honesty would get him farther in the long run.

“I don’t want any trouble. All I want to do is serve my time and get back to my dorm and friends with as little problems as possible. I’ll be honest with ya. Keepin’ me in chains is gonna be hard.”

“Thought you said you didn’t want problems. Resisting the Officers is going to cause . . . “

Ranma held up a hand. “I didn’t say it would be a problem to get me in chains. I said it would be a problem keeping me in them. I’m so strong that I break them without meaning to.”

Polk turned to McIntosh. “Tell you both what. Why don’t we just get him something to eat? I’ll talk to Steven and then we’ll deal. Come on kid, I’ll take ya to the mess. It should be closed this time of day, but we kept ya from lunch, so I’ll get one of the trustees to make you something.”

Ranma just sighed and followed Polk out the door. Buck was hanging around and he followed them into the mess.

“Hey Saotome. How’s it goin’ Get something to eat and then I’ll sit down with you and Polk so we can have a chat.”

The trustee didn’t mind getting Ranma a plate and he didn’t stint on the calories either. Ranma sat down with his back to the wall and dug into a plate full of spaghetti and meat balls with a big side of apple pie and ice cream, washed down with several glasses of milk.

As Ranma ate, he looked at Buck and Gunnie Polk. He knew that they were going to be the men responsible for him and he didn’t want to start out wrong with them. He’d started out with enough problems as it was.

“Ok Saotome. I remember you and I know that whatever is going on, you got a bum deal. But we’re stuck with the consequences. The bosses want to keep fighting to a minimum, so they usually keep the worst prisoners in transports to stop the rep builders from fighting with them.

“It’s not fair but we can confine one guy, not ten or fifteen. And, according to the jacket we got on you . . . Well, it sounds like you’re psychotic or something. So you get the dirty end of the stick.”

Polk just gave it to Ranma like it was. He wasn’t going to sugar coat it, that wouldn’t be fair.

Buck stuck in his two cents worth.

“Yeah, so anytime you’re in general population, you’ll be in transports and . . . um . . . Gunnie we really got a problem. He’s strong as an ox and chaining him is going to be tough.”

Polk pinned Ranma with an odd look.

“We use the regular sets until or unless there is a problem. You understand me Saotome?”

Ranma got an arrested look on his face.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thanks, Gunnie, I’ll try not to let you down. Buck? You gonna be one of my guards?”

“Yeah, I can get Gunnie here to arrange it. Why?”

Buck waited for the answer he hoped Ranma would give.

“Because, I need someone who understands exactly what they’re dealing with near me, and I think you’re it. “

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Ok, I’ll be here for you. We need to make arrangements. Polk, you finish intake yet?”

Polk just shook his head.

“I didn’t get around to the lists and all that. Captain wanted to see him before lunch but we missed it. So, I got all the stuff here on this clip board. I’ll write it out, Saotome, most of the men here are American or English and can’t read Kanji. I’ll just read off the questions and write the answers for you OK?”

Ranma nodded and then endured a spate of questions ranging from personal routine and ‘quirks’ to a list of acceptable visitors.

“No one! I won’t see anyone.” Ranma shook his head stubbornly.

“OK? No one, but why not?” Polk knew how much visits meant to most of the men so he couldn’t understand why Ranma didn’t want visitors.

“I don’t want my friends to see me like this. Especially my girl. I got to do this on my own.”

Ranma couldn’t stand the idea of anyone seeing him in transport chains and prisoner slops.

“Ok ...whatever. If you change your mind let me know. There are a few people we can’t deny access to. Steven for one . . . “

Ranma interrupted, “Steven’s ok, I’m still kinda mad at him but if he needs to see me. I’ll see him.”

They took Ranma to a cell and, telling him that they would get him for supper, locked him in.

Ranma looked around his ‘home’ for the next 90 days and felt like he was going to strangle for a second. The cell was eight by eight with a cot, chair, desk and a combo facility, a toilet toped by a sink. In order to use the toilet, his shoulders bumped the sink; to use the sink, he had to straddle the toilet. Not good, but not easily broken, either. There was a computer imbedded in the desk.

He lay down on the cot and, when they came for him for supper, he refused to go, saying that, when they came for him in the morning, he’d be ready but he wanted to stay and meditate just now. He actually spent the time trying not to cry again.