I would like to take this moment to state that I claim no ownership of 
Tenchi Muyo or its related characters. Now that that is out of the way, 
I dedicate this fic to Kiyone and all of her fans who feel jilted at 
her exclusion from Gold & Silver. I hope you enjoy it.

Sail Away: Prologue
Looking to the Sea


	It was a dream. That was the only logical explanation for her 
current situation that Kiyone could offer. She had just been reassigned 
to Earth's Western Hemisphere, to be precise, Nassau in the Bahamas, to 
take part in a new top-secret investigation. It was a high profile 
case, one that the brass was paying extremely close attention to. A 
case that could definitely get her promoted, and best of all, Mihoshi 
was half a planet away. 
	It almost broke her heart the way Mihoshi cried when she broke 
the news to her, but it was necessary. Besides, her new partner was a 
highly important part of the investigation. He was a human that had 
been working independently on this case before the Galaxy Police found 
out about it. After they did, though, they recruited him as a special 
operative. An expert on whatever it was that the case was about. On 
paper, he seemed about perfect. A former private investigator that 
freelanced in the Bahamas, the report outlined his expertise in motor 
vehicle operation and firearms, and his above average physical 
abilities. This man appeared to be everything Kiyone needed to 
springboard her career back on the fast track to success. 
	At the moment, Kiyone was sitting in a beachside caf‚, awaiting 
the arrival of her new partner. It was easily one of the most pleasant 
places she'd worked at in her career. The bright sunshine, the white 
sand beaches, the deep blue ocean, the sound of a motorboat at full 
throttle slicing through the waves. 
	Kiyone's head snapped towards the water. Her eyes focused upon a 
speedboat, skimming across the waves. It was pilot-less and traveling 
at high speed. To her horror, she also noticed the young man being 
pulled behind the craft. Suddenly, the boat crested a wave and slammed 
down hard in the water, the force of the impact skewing it off course 
and towards the stone break wall of the beach. She the young man lost 
his grip on the towline and was thrown towards the beach. He skipped 
across the water and skidded to a halt on the sand just as the boat 
slammed into the wall, exploding on impact. Kiyone ran over to the man 
and knelt down beside him. He was lying face down, very still, upon the 
sand.
	"Sir?" she asked, slightly panicked. "Sir? Are you all right?" 
The man stirred and rolled over onto his back. His hands patted down 
his drenched Hawaiian shirt. His brow furrowed worriedly.
	"Damn it. I lost my sunglasses." He said disgustedly as he jumped 
to his feet. He shook his head and began walking towards the caf‚. 
	"Hey! Wait one minute." Kiyone called after him. "Aren't you 
going to call a hospital or something? That was a pretty bad accident 
you just had there." The young man just shrugged unconcernedly.
	"Why? I'm late as it is." He said. "I'm supposed to be meeting a 
girl here." He gave her a curious look. "Say, have you seen the stars 
lately?" he whispered. Instantly, Kiyone recognized the codeword.
	"Only Eastern ones." She replied. The young man slapped his leg 
happily and flashed her a winsome grin.
	"They never told me you were cute, too." He quipped. "Detective 
Flank Sanio, at your service." He extended a hand to her. She readily 
shook it.
	"Detective Kiyone Makibi." She responded firmly. "It's a pleasure 
to be working with you."
"And you said that sober." Flank added in a jocular tone. "Come 
on, I've got a car parked on the pier." He dashed off towards the pier 
as soon as he had mentioned it. Kiyone hurried to follow. What she 
found him standing next to was a dark purple roadster, apparently an 
older car, that he was plucking a ticket off of the windshield. 
"Here, it is." He said, pointing to the car. "My Vette. Isn't she 
a beauty?" Kiyone shrugged.
"I'm hardly a judge." She replied. Flank seemed to pout a bit, 
but said nothing. Instead, he vaulted himself over the doorsill of the 
roadster and fell into the blue trimmed bucket seat.
"Well, get in. Recaro seats never bit anyone I know." He said, 
noticing her apprehension. She did so, sliding into the seat and 
closing the passenger door with a hearty clunk. "Oh yeah, while you're 
over there" Flank said while she buckled in. "put this in the glove 
compartment." He handed her the ticket. She shrugged and opened the 
glove compartment door. Tickets by the hundreds spilled out of the 
compartment and onto the floor. Kiyone glared at her partner. He just 
grinned and put the roadster into gear. 
"So, what is this case we're working on?" she asked after they 
had driven a bit. Flank paused to turn a corner then answered quickly.
"How familiar are you with the drug Indigo?" he asked in a steady 
tone. Kiyone's eyes narrowed. 
"I know about it. It's one of the seven most controlled 
substances in the galaxy." She stated.
"But it is a readily available substance here on Earth." Flank 
replied. "Somehow, someone is smuggling Indigo onto Earth in huge 
quantities. Or at least the key components."
	"How did you become involved?"
	"Indigo cases are my specialty. I've worked them for as long as 
I've been a PI. One thing I know is that it pays to know your narcotics 
when you work cases about them, so I had a lab do some deconstructive 
work on a sample. Turns out, none of the elements in the stuff are 
Earth native. I start mouthing off about this alien drug, next thing I 
know the GP has picked me as their first ever human detective and 
assigned me to take down the Earthen Indigo ring." He seemed rather 
proud of the last statement. Flank pointed to a run-down bar at the 
side of the road and spun the wheel around to pull into its gravel 
parking lot. The roadster spun around as it lost traction on the loose 
surface. Nonchalantly, Flank slammed the gearbox into reverse and 
backed into a parking space. 
	"We're here." He said, shutting off the engine. Kiyone looked at 
the old building. It had once been painted green, once. Now it was a 
slightly dingy greenish-gray with the wood of the structure showing 
through in spots. A battered neon sign, flickering out its last 
glimmers of light, hung over the screen front door. It read simply 
'Prop Wash'. 
	"What is this place?" Kiyone asked as Flank bounded up the porch 
stairs. 
	"It happens to be my favorite haunt." Flank said, sounding a bit 
hurt. "I was going to be a nice guy and buy you a drink. Plus, I've got 
to introduce you to Bhan." 
	Flank pulled open the door and ushered Kiyone inside. To her 
disdain, she noticed that the door was not at all hinged, but instead 
lashed to the wall with bailing wire. This sort of makeshift 
construction basically summed up the barroom. The bar counter was built 
of old surfboards nailed together, sitting on posts formed of palm tree 
trunks. The tables were a loose medley of card tables, upturned 
bathtubs with bits of boat deck nailed to the bottom side, and cable 
spools laid upon their side. The chairs were almost all of the metal 
folding variety, save for a few battered beanbags and a couple of 
thrashed, stained recliners. Those were placed on a threadbare rug in 
the corner of the bar beneath a hand-painted sign that read 'Racer's 
Lounge'. An old jukebox, the chrome long tarnished, sat in this corner 
playing 'Don't Fear the Reaper'. The walls were covered in pictures of 
racing boats, both sailing and powered. Many were signed. There were 
also trophies, boat parts, and other keepsakes strewn across the walls 
on hastily built shelves. Largest of all was a sign that said in plain 
black letters 'Just because I can't tell it's broke doesn't mean you 
don't have to pay for it.' It was completely beyond Kiyone how there 
could be people in this place.
	But there were people, dozens of them, in fact. They seemed to 
revel in their dilapidated surroundings. The 'Racer's Lounge' had a few 
rugged looking men with women, either on their laps or at their sides, 
embroiled in an obviously enjoyable conversation. Three waitresses 
pushed their way through crowds of lanky men in battered shirts and 
torn, oil-stained jeans. The tables were crowded and the bar counter 
had men standing at wait, shoulder to shoulder, for their drinks. 
Behind the bar stood an old African man. His hair snow white and his 
smile broad, he was the one mixing and pouring the drinks as well as 
engaging in a bit of friendly conversation himself. Flank hopped up on 
the end of the counter and waved to the old man. 
	"Bhan!" he shouted over the din. "I've got someone here who needs 
a daiquiri." The old man snapped his fingers, grabbed a drink off of a 
tray that one of the three waitresses was taking to a customer, and 
brought it down to where Flank was sitting. 
	"Well Sanio. How are you my boy?" he said, a strong Caribbean 
accent perforating his words. Flank gave him a thumbs-up.
	"Good times just keep on rolling for me, Bhan." He quipped. Then, 
he motioned to Kiyone. "Old timer, I want you to feast your eyes on my 
new partner, Kiyone." Kiyone stepped forward and extended a hand to the 
bartender. He looked very intently at her for a minute, then nodded and 
shook her hand.
	"Yep, she's a cop, that's spot on." Bhan said, then handed her 
the daiquiri. "And I know that you're the one who needs this." Warily, 
Kiyone accepted the drink. As she sipped at it, Flank hopped off of the 
counter and turned a suspicious eye to the crowd.
	"So, Bhan?" he stated slowly. "What's the word on those parts I 
ordered?" The elderly man's eyes shifted about the room. 
	"They're in the back." He said quickly. "Come with me." He 
ushered one of the waitresses behind the bar and walked out he back 
door. Flank followed quickly. Kiyone slammed down her drink and ran out 
to catch him.
	"Detective Sanio. We don't have time for this she hollered to 
him. She stepped out of the back door and felt a hand clamp over her 
mouth. A flash of panic came over her.
	"Are you trying to get me killed?" she heard Flank's voice ask. 
The hand moved away from her mouth. She turned to see her partner 
shaking his head. "Bhan here is my top informant. God knows what could 
happen if someone found that out. Not to mention the guys around here 
think I'm a powerboat racer. I am, but not professionally."
	Kiyone was stunned. She stood silently as Flank turned back to 
Bhan.
	"Anyway, what is the new news about Altair?" He asked as if 
nothing had happened.
	"Bad." The bartender sighed. "Victor Kaman, the company CEO, 
declared this morning that he was serious about his intent to run for 
governor. The word I've gotten from my other bartender friends is that 
a lot of people think Kaman would be a great governor."
	"Shit." was Flank's succinct response. Kiyone seemed to tense up 
a bit, but said nothing.
	"Well, that just means we'll have to move on busting Altair 
sooner." Flank continued. "I'll get Tron working on hacking their 
mainframe so we can nail their production facilities."
	"Who is Altair?" Kiyone asked.
	"A large corporation, miss." Bhan stated. "Largest on the island, 
and the one we suspect of being the powerhouse behind Indigo."
	"All of our proof isn't enough for the authorities. Of course, it 
doesn't help that most of their salaries come out of Altair's pocket. 
So, we haven't been able to take 'em down just yet. But now that we've 
got new jurisdiction, I think that Altair is on the way out."
	Kiyone nodded in agreement. She was glad to see that there were 
times when her partner could be serious. 
	"So what's our plan?" she asked. Flank and Bhan looked at each 
other then shrugged their shoulders. 
	"We sort of haven't got that far." Flank admitted sheepishly. 
Bhan snapped his fingers and jogged over to his battered old pickup 
that was parked nearby. 
	"Flank, I almost forgot." He said hurriedly as he opened the door 
to the truck and began to rifle through the clutter on its floor. "You 
left these here on karaoke night." Bhan pulled a pair of shoulder 
holsters out of the truck and handed them to Flank. "You need to be 
more careful with them, my boy." Flank removed his shirt and slipped 
the holsters on. They fit tightly against his lean body. Then he placed 
his shirt back on, not bothering to button it. 
	"Thanks Bhan, I owe you one." He quipped. "Well, Kiyone. It's 
time I got you to your place. We'll start bright and early next morning 
and head out to Tron's." The young man started walking back to his car. 
Kiyone jogged to catch up. 
	 "Wait a minute, you don't even know where I live." She shouted. 
Flank shrugged as he vaulted over the doorsill of his roadster and into 
the driver's seat. 
	"I was hoping that you'd tell me after you got into the car." He 
said plainly. He started the car and they drove off.
	For most of the drive, Flank seemed rather quiet. He seemed to be 
deep in thought, as if contemplating something important. It gave 
Kiyone a chance to assess her new partner. 
	He wasn't into following procedures. That was clear, even from 
the report she had received. Also, he didn't seem to care much for 
protocol or for decorum. His side arms were a pair of Smith & Wesson 
.45's. Kiyone had studied Earth weapons during her tenure with Mihoshi. 
With all the time she had had free during that period, it helped her to 
have something to occupy her mind. Guns just seemed natural to study. 
The Smith & Wesson .45, commonly known as the Magnum, is a revolver, 
housing eight bullets, well known for its firepower. In some ways, it 
was superior to her service blaster, plus it was less conspicuous. The 
fact that he carried two meant that he preferred to have overwhelming 
firepower at his disposal, plus he disliked reloading during a 
firefight. Generally, it seemed like he was more of an action type then 
a thinking type.
	"We're here." He said as the car came to halt. Kiyone got out and 
walked to her door. Flank stayed in his car, but shut the engine down 
while she walked to her door. Kiyone reached for her doorknob and 
turned to face him. 
	"Detective Sanio, I'll see you in the morning." She said to him. 
	"Not going to invite me in?" he asked coyly. "I knew I should 
have worn tighter pants. Well, I'll see you in the morning too." The 
roadster roared to life, the engine burbled as it idled. 
	"Wait." Kiyone called out as Flank put the car in gear. "I need 
to know something." She said.
	"What's up?" he asked, leaning over on the doorsill.
	"What happened with the boat today? Was it a vehicle malfunction 
or sabotage or what?" 
	Flank paused then turned a dangerously rebellious grin to her. 
	"Nope. A friend bet me twenty bucks I wouldn't do it." Before 
Kiyone could respond, Flank was gone in a cloud of tire smoke. She 
slumped against the door of her apartment.
	"Oh God, not again." She moaned. 

Author's notes: I hope you think this'll be as interesting as it will 
be to write. Drugs, violence, Flank's 1968 Corvette Roadster, intrigue, 
guns, big corporations, mysteries, hacking, outer space, the Bahamas, 
Hawaiian shirts, karaoke, and gratuitous full frontal nudity. And 
that's just for starters. I could tell you more, but then I'd be giving 
away the next part. Until next time.

Tallgeese Forever!
Craeyst Raygal