Disclaimer

Macross is owned by or licensed to lots of people - Tatsunoko Studios, Harmony Gold, Studio Nue, Streamline Video...note that none of them are me.

The same can be said of Ranma 1/2 - Rumiko Takahashi, Kitty, Shonen Sunday Comics, Viz Video. Not me.

I didn’t create any of them, and I certainly do not own them. Any use of them in this story is meant as nothing more than tribute. Please don’t sue me.

Wednesday’s Child

Epilogue: Bearing The Consequences Of Our Actions

September 12th, 2012

"I’m not getting any younger, Ranma. I’m nearly sixty, and you still haven’t given me any grandchildren."

"Not from want of you trying," said Ranma. "Trying to set me up with Minmay wasn’t well thought out."

"And what about Milia? You two are getting along so well."

"Milia and I have reached an understanding," he said. "An’ before you ask, Mom, Misa and I just aren’t an item anymore."

Nodoka considered, then said hesitantly, "There’s always Nabiki—"

"Don’t go there," growled Ranma. He turned and walked towards the window, looking out over the city.

Macross was still there, despite its battle damage and the impact of Kamjin’s ship. It was being hoisted back to an upright position, to stand as a memorial to all that was lost in the war, but it would never fly again.

The city was growing by leaps and bounds, but total global population was still only about a million. Despite this, the plans for interstellar exploration and colonization had gone ahead. Sixty thousand civilians had been loaded into the Megaroad One, bound for a planet found in the Zentraedi database. A planet that matched Earth for environment and climate.

They were already calling it Eden.

Humans had already suffered one global holocaust. If it happened again on Earth, it could mean the end of the Human race. Their best hope for survival was to spread out, colonize other worlds.

Misa was commanding the Megaroad One.

- - - - -

Misa leaned back in the chair and sipped her coffee in contentment.

Yesterday had been the second anniversary of the end of the Space War. Much pomp and circumstance had been unleashed, including a two-hour concert by Ling Minmay. The VF-4 had been officially entered into service on the same day, with the first full Squadron—VFA-113, the Jolly Rogers—learning all about their new jets.

Hard to believe that Ichigyo Hikaru, of all people, would end up promoted to Major. He would be serving as Gold Wing’s commanding officer, in addition to the Jolly Rogers’ Squadron CO. As for one Commander Saotome Ranma—

Her train of thought was broken as the hatch behind her opened.

"Commander Saotome, reporting as ordered."

She turned her chair to face him, and was forced to contain a wince. He looked like hell. Defeating, then bringing in, Kamjin had found him a measure of peace, but he was still tormented by the death and destruction of that horrible day.

Because unlike during the Holocaust, he’d had a front-row seat to what he’d thought was her own death. Her ribs still ached from the bone-crushing hug she’d gotten from him upon realizing that she was alive.

Well, hopefully the news she had for him would please him.

"Commander Saotome. Good to see you again."

"And you, Ma’am."

"Oh, don’t be so formal, Ranma!" She laughed. "I’ve got something for you?"

"Oh?"

"Here." She handed him an envelope.

He took it, and opened it, pulling out the papers within.

Then folded the papers. "Misa, I’m real happy you considered me for this position—"

"You’re not going to take it?" She tried, and failed, to keep the astonishment out of her voice. "Ranma, this—I mean, you told Claudia you wanted a cadre position, and the Fireflies is a cadre Squadron. Why don’t you—"

"Because I’m here to resign my commission."

She stared at him.

"Resign."

"Misa, I joined the military for the wrong reasons," he said. "I wanted revenge for Akane’s death. I called it justice, but really, it was revenge.

"Well, I got it, but I stayed in, because it was all I knew. It was easier than pullin’ up roots again, an’ finding a new life. So I backed into the flight training, stumbled into the Space War, an’ now..." He sighed. "The war’s over, the Malcontents have been stopped, and you’re gettin’ ready for your next big adventure. But I was a lousy soldier, an’ a worse officer." He handed her the papers and envelope, then unclipped his rank insignia. "An’ you don’t want me teachin’ new recruits my bad habits."

She stared down at the rank insignia, then looked up at him. "Then what will you do?"

"Teach martial arts," he said. "Right now, things are too disorganized for anyone to complain if I start my own school. The slate has been wiped clean. I might as well take advantage of it."

"Then I can make you an instructor in—"

"No, Misa." He shook his head. "I’m done with all things military."

"Does that include me?" She wished it hadn’t come out so harsh.

"You’ve been my best friend for a long time, Misa. An’ I’m glad we can go back to bein’ friends." He grinned. "I won’t hold your rank against you, as long as you don’t hold my lack of rank against me."

"Fair enough," she said.

"But it’s kinda moot," he said. "After all, you’re leavin’."

"Come with us," she said. "We’ve got room. You can teach the Art to civilians, or to military personnell. We’ll find a way to make it work."

He considered this, then said, "You know what? Why not? After all, everyone else I know is goin’. Even Minmay."

"We can’t do without our cops," she said. "And she’s good for morale, too."

"Okay, count me in."

She grinned. "Knew we could count on you."

- - - - -

"How did it go?"

Ranma glanced over at Milia. "Not too bad."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I’m no good as a soldier," he said.

"While this is certainly true—"

"Hey!"

"—It is not the complete truth."

Ranma sighed. "No. I tried to stop Kamjin’s engines, and failed. I tried to stop him on the bridge, and failed—he still fired on Macross City. And I tried to stop him from ramming the Macross, but by disabling him, I made it impossible to stop."

"Three times, he defeated you," observed Milia. "Only one thing left to do."

"And what is that?" he asked acidly.

"Go on living," she said. "Start at the bottom once again, and work your way up."

"Well, by quittin’ the Spacy, I’m definitely starting at the bottom," he said.

"You haven’t lost everything," she said. She turned to face him, and grinned. "You’ve still got me."

"So I do," he said. He grinned back at her. "My friends—"

"I thought we were more than friends," she said.

"Milia..." He sighed. "Maybe someday. But not yet, okay?"

"When will ’someday’ be?" she asked sadly. "I’ve waited a long time for you."

"It’ll be a longer wait yet," he said. "I need time to heal, time to...find my direction."

Milia considered this for a long moment, then nodded. "I’ve waited this long. I can wait longer still."

"It might be a very long time," he warned her.

"You’re worth waiting for, Ranma."

THE END

OMAKE

"Here." She handed him an envelope.

He took it, and opened it, pulling out the papers within.

Then folded the papers. "Misa, I’m real happy you considered me for this position—"

"You’re not going to take it?" She tried, and failed, to keep the astonishment out of her voice. "Ranma, this—I mean, you told Claudia you wanted a cadre position, and the Fireflies is a cadre Squadron. Why don’t you—"

"Because I’m here to resign my commission."

She stared at him.

"Resign."

"Yep," said Ranma. "I’m getting married."

"You are?" She shook her head. "But...marriage doesn’t require you to resign your commission. There’s no regulation requiring an officer to be celibate."

"It ain’t that," said Ranma. "There is a requirement for an officer to receive permission from a superior before marrying a foreign national."

"Yes, but the United Nations—" She froze, as she realized what he meant. "You’re going to marry Milia?"

Ranma shrugged. "She wants to explore Human culture from the inside, and this includes gettin’ married."

"And what about what you want?"

"Women never seem concerned with what I want," he said. "Mom’s all for it, because she wants grandkids."

- - - - -

(Because Omake don’t have to be funny.)

"Here." She handed him an envelope.

He took it, and opened it, pulling out the papers within.

Then folded the papers. "Misa, I’m real happy you considered me for this position—"

"You’re not going to take it?" She tried, and failed, to keep the astonishment out of her voice. "Ranma, this—I mean, you told Claudia you wanted a cadre position, and the Fireflies is a cadre Squadron. Why don’t you—"

"Because I’m here to resign my commission."

She stared at him.

"Resign."

He nodded. "I want to take a different position, but I want to avoid any conflict of interest." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. "Here. I’ve got something for you too."

She frowned, but took the box and opened it.

Inside was a ring. Pallasite and platinum, just like the necklace he’d given her so long ago.

"Ranma..." She looked up at him in shock. "After all the problems we’ve had—"

"Most of our problems were due to our both being in the military, or due to our difference in rank. These won’t be a problem if I resign," he said. "Other problems we had...well, I think we’ve ironed them out. Will you marry me?"

Misa closed the box slowly, and shook her head. "I can’t accept this."

He closed his eyes. "I understand—"

"Not unless you present it to me on the surface of Eden. Because if this is some ploy of yours to keep me out of harm’s way, I will not have it!"

She was afraid, for a moment, that he’d be offended by her words. But if he was—

He grinned. "All right. I’ll go with you."

She blinked. "I—" Then shook her head. "That was a bit sudden."

Ranma snorted. "Two years is a bit sudden? Or five years, if you want to count it that way? Or even twelve?"

"I don’t think we’ll count it as twelve," said Misa frostily. "As I was fourteen when we met."

"And I was twenty-one," retorted Ranma. "Just two years older than Riber."

Misa considered this, then shrugged. "You’ve got me there."

"So when’s lift-off? And how long is the trip?"

"Aren’t you impatient," said Misa with a smirk.

"I’ve waited two years, or five, or maybe even twelve," said Ranma. "I think I can afford to show a touch of impatience."