NOTE: this story came about from a few bits on the Addventure and
speculation that there might be a story in there. The Prologue (which this
is) is rated G. The remainder of the fic will contain a number of aspects
which can be pretty horrible. The story itself is an experiment, and
hopefully will contain a few epic elements, along with some humor and drama.
We'll see.

So this is only moderately disturbing and extremely violent until after the
prologue...

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

Professor Wendall Reichmann turned to his compatriots and grinned. This made
him look even more clownlike than usual, with his bulbous nose, frizzy hair,
and the remains of a really bad sunburn that had occurred over the weekend.
"My friends. Colleagues. Are we ready for this?"

"Neeep?" The Professor's servant, a Titmouse, sniffed the air briefly before
settling down to observe.

Reichmann scratched her briefly behind an ear, then continued to address the
group. "We know that the ancient wizard-scientist Sukotto aka Sukebe created
many devices we are only beginning to understand the principles of today.
Using the technology of the pokeball transporter, we stand ready to be able
to transport ANY matter over ANY distance."

Erisk cleared his throat. "We know, Professor. Today begins a new glorious
age where we can benefit all mankind."

"Our colleagues in Sappho aren't online yet are they?" Nobel intuited from
the way the usually staid group was getting ready to make speeches.

A light flicked on, saving everyone from more speeches or forced
conversation.

The device was switched on and a humming built in intensity, a swirling
gateway forming in midair.

"Neeeeee neeeee!" The Titmouse suddenly became very agitated, her tail
lashing and hands gesturing oddly.

"What is it, Tina?" Wendall tried to calm his Titmouse, rubbing her mane.
"That's odd, I've never seen her act like this before." Since he'd had her
since college, over twenty years ago, and the old Titmouse was usually
pretty quiet and friendly, this was saying something.

*SHRAK!* A solid beam of energy hit the Titmouse, leaving a neat little hole
in her abdomen. The pokegirl shrieked and collapsed.

"That was what was called a warning shot," said a voice that none of the
scientists recognized. Two people with large rifles moved out of the hallway
into the lab.

"We're called Trauma Team," said a human-looking woman with silver hair.
"Now, if you don't want to die, I'd suggest throwing all your valuables over
there into a pile."

"Any of you have pokeballs, do the same," a large blond male added. "Hmmm.
So this is your dimensional transport device? Interesting?"

Five scientists lined up against the wall, tossing watches and wallets into
an untidy pile. They weren't Trainers or anything after all, just
researchers. Professor Reichmann made a motion towards his wounded and
crying Titmouse.

*SHRAK!*

The Titmouse wailed once more, even louder, as her Master collapsed with a
smouldering hole through his head.

"Now, y'all know better than that." The blond tsked. "Against the wall, all
of ya. Anything?"

"Junk," said the woman as she looked over the pile of loot. "Oh well."
*SHRAK!*

The Titmouse jerked one final time as a second beam went through her.

"What are you going to do?" Erisk spoke finally, his eyes tearing up at the
sight of the gentle Professor and his pet killed in cold blood.

"Well first, put your hands up," said the silver haired girl, then she
calmly and coldly shot each one of the scientists where they were standing
with their arms in the air. "Come on Hans. Let's get this gadget on the
truck. We ought to be able to get good money for the parts if nothing else."

"Trixie?" Hans looked over the swirling gateway. "How do you shut down this
kind of thing anyway?"

*SHRAK!* Trixie lowered her beamer. "Hmmm. That didn't quite work." The hole
in midair was now swirling with extra colors and seemed to be twisting in on
itself.

"Well, we've shut this experiment down. Our job is done," Hans said, using
his own beamer to incinerate a computer station. "According to what I read,
their bulk transporter needs both stations open. The whole thing goes
unstable if one line is busted. So..."

Trixie finally found a large power cable and shot through it. The swirling
hole vanished. "That's it. Let's get what loot we can before the cops get
here."

"Yeah, they get really annoyed when we kill a bunch of 'em," Hans agreed.
"I've got plans for the rest of the day, anyway."

"Just plant the bombs. HELLO."

"What ya got?" Hans looked over at the cabinet. "Oh, a hidden video pickup.
TX 112 type, eh? Probably used by the other site of this experiment."

"Hi you stupid gits!" Trixie waved at the cabinet. "We're Team Trauma. Just
letting you know that according to the calculations you published in
'Researchers Quarterly' - your end of things should be blowing up in about
two minutes. Ta ta!"

-----------

A transdimensional tunnel twisted and turned. One end had been severed, the
other end was unmonitored and continued in operation by the computers at the
Sappho city lab which tried to stabilize it.

---------

Ranma Saotome grumbled. This was hardly unusual. His father had just found
this *wonderful* training site.

Jusenkyo, the Cursed Springs.

His father had turned into a ca-ca-ca-ca- furry thing with a tail.
Naturally, Ranma had been a bit concerned. Okay, okay, he'd freaked
completely out and headed at high speeds for the hills.

He didn't want to go back to Jusenkyo, obviously. There was a ca-ca- one of
THOSE there. Even if it was his father.

Ranma posed atop a rock and exclaimed at the top of his lungs. "Aw man, I
wish I didn't have to deal with any of this crap!"

*SHOOM!* One end of a transdimensional tunnel neatly took the upper two
inches of the rock, plus a six feet radius circle of space above it, on a
trip.

Be careful what you wish for. Capricious fate ahead.

---------

Pokedex Listing:
TITMOUSE, the clean pokegirl
Type: Animorphic - Mouse
Element: None
Frequency: Common
Diet: Herbivore, mainly nuts and fruit
Role: Frequently domesticated pokegirl
Strong Vs: Grimy, Muk
Weak Vs: Cats, Snakes, Birds
Libido: Average
Attacks: Scratch, Kick, Tackle
Enhancements: digestive system is very efficient, good nightvision,
extremely high auditory range and heightened sense of touch. Titmice have
low pain thresholds and are quite fastidious.
Evolves: Mousefly (mechanism uncertain), Mousewife (normal evolution)
    Titmice are mouse-types, covered with short but thick fur, having a
slight muzzle, expressive slightly long ears, and a long thin tail. Both the
tail and ears are quite sensitive. Where you find one titmouse there are
usually more. They rarely stand over four feet in height, are of average
flexibility, and are not very strong. They also tend to be "ditzy" - giving
one complicated duties or instructions is a waste of time and effort - they
simply lack the ability to focus and remember such things.
They are, however, naturally clean and enjoy cleaning things and maintaining
areas. Titmice also make decent cooks, staying away from complicated dishes
and favoring vegetarian dishes naturally. Titmice are often found in college
campuses, cleaning and cooking for their masters while they are students.
Titmice are often pets that are considered members of the family by certain
groups, much like Kittens, Hounds, Pidgies, Evas, and Bunnies.
They do not make good combatants, having a special disadvantage against
cat-types as well as easily startled/intimidated.
Titmice are often employed as librarian's aides, as they are very quiet and
can be trained to do basic filing.

TEAM TRAUMA-
Serious hardcases. Trixie and Hans. Two thoroughly amoral people who are
mainly concerned with making a quick buck and armed with particle beam
rifles built from plans from the previous age. They're villains, if you
couldn't guess.