For Love and Justice

                                   Part I

                  by LeVar Bouyer (ldbouyer@earthlink.net)


Bridge Deck of Her Majesty's Ship Perseus

	Achika Shibata, captain of H.M.S. Perseus, drummed her slim fingers
on the armrest of her command chair.  The ship was making a routine cruise
through the Hemingway star system, so named because of the rather whimsical
literary inclinations of the survey team that had mapped it.  Perseus's
mission was to check on the small terraforming project being carried out on
the fourth planet.

	She was a rookie captain, only three months removed from the
Academy.  With the shortage of available senshi, women commanders without
magical powers were becoming more and more in demand, and those coming out
of the Academy were being bumped to lieutenant commander and commander
instead of the normal ensign rank.  Her command of Perseus was indicative of
this; the last commander, Sailor Vega, had left the ship to assume command
of the defense forces on another colony world.

	'I'm not a senshi,' she thought as she ran a hand through her long
hair, 'but I'm still a damn good captain.' Now was her chance to prove it. 
"Too bad this mission is boring as hell," she said aloud.  Behind her, her
first officer began to respond, then halted.

	"INCOMING!" he shouted.

	Achika wheeled around in her chair to face her first officer. "What
is AHH!"

	The bridge rocked violently to port, then back to starboard,
knocking almost everyone out of their seats.  Simultaneously, half the
lights blinked out, the remainder being replaced with red ones.  The
tactical officer belatedly called out, "Ship detected on bearing
zero-four-four mark zero-zero-zero, range forty thousand kilometers!"

	Captain Shibata picked herself up from the floor shakily.  "Send a
distress call to Headquarters.  Status?"

	The ship shook again, much harder.  "We've been hit by two type-IV
missiles, sir, moderate damage on decks three through twelve." A pause. 
"Make that through fifteen," he revised.  "A third hit."

	Shibata's mind raced.  "Sound general quarters!  Helm, about to
heading one-eight-zero mark zero-nine-zero and all ahead full!  Firing
solution-"

	The fourth hit was much bigger.  A small fire started in a corner of
the bridge.  Achika wondered why the automatic fire suppression systems
didn't kick in.  "Damage control computers out, main engine core failure
imminent. We've lost contact with crew throughout the ship-"

	"Return fire!" screamed the captain.

	"Too late.  You're all dead."

	The person who climbed the ladder into the bridge at that point
looked remarkably unlike someone who was in the midst of a desperate battle
for survival, and much like a cross professor, which of course she was.

	"I'm sorry, sir, but-"

	"Shibata-san, a bit of advice.  When you're blindsided in an attack
like that, save your ship first, *then* notify command."

	"But-"

	"Shibata-san, your delay got you and your crew killed.  Lights,
please." The room returned to normal lighting, as the "crew" picked
themselves up and brushed themselves off.  The newcomer stood to the side of
the ladder as a couple maintenance techs climbed in to take care of the
small fire still smoldering in a corner of the simulator cum bridge.
"Captain" Achika Shibata took off her headset and looked up as her
instructor stood before her.

	"I'm sorry, Captain," repeated Shibata.

	"It's okay," reassured Captain Jennifer A. Sakachi, Ph. D.  She
clapped a hand on Shibata's shoulder.  The younger girl wore a uniform
identical to Jen's own: black, with a few patches and rank insignia here and
there.  The most important differences were the lack of a golden heart on
Achika's collar, and the red triangle instead of blue that served as a
background for her gold rank stripes.

	Jen leaned against a console.  "This is just training, Shibata-san,
you'll improve with time."

	"Really?" asked Achika.

	"Really," replied Jen with a smile.  "I wasn't perfect my first
time out, either.  But right now, there's a little bit of advice I want to
give you."

	"Yes?"  Achika's teacher moved in closer, then closer still.

	"I want you to know . . ."

	"Yes?"

	"That . . ."

	"YES?"

	"IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP!"

	Achika leaped out of bed, no longer in uniform but wearing blue
flannel pajamas.  Her mother stood over her, hands on hips.  "You're late,
Achika!"

	"Dammit," she whispered.  "These dreams will be the end of me . . .
I should never have let Sakachi-sensei take me to that Star Trek revival."

	"I heard that," said her mother, turning and walking out of the
room.  "Now come on, you only have a few minutes to get ready."

	"Okay, okay."  Achika went to the dresser and pulled out some
underwear and a towel.  After her shower she'd have just enough time to grab
a slice of toast and get to school.  With any other teacher she would have
waited for a full breakfast . . . but not this one.  One was *not* late for
Sakachi-sensei's first period class.

***

Ai Furikato Senior High School
Nagano-2, Hinansho
3 June 3043

	Achika looked at herself in the bathroom mirror between fourth and
fifth periods.  She carefully brushed her forest-green hair, paying special
attention to combing her bangs, then looked into the reflection of her red
eyes.  Finding no problem there, she examined the rest of herself. Her
sailor-suit uniform was almost pristine, except for a small mustard stain on
her collar that she hadn't been able to scrub out quickly enough at lunch. 
Hopefully no-one would notice for awhile, or at least until she got to
the club and changed.

	Otherwise she was fine.  Perhaps a touch heavier than she would have
liked, but still enough to turn the eyes of the guys in her grade.  'A shame
most of them are only interested in my chest,' she thought sadly.  She did
have a well-developed chest, at that, something she wasn't really proud of. 
The annoyance of talking to boys and having them look several centimeters
below her eyes had never quite gone away completely. At least her boyfriend
never did that to her, which was one of the reasons he was her boyfriend.

	With a sigh, she stopped her brushing and slid the brush into her
purse.  Only a couple minutes left until class, and only a couple classes
until she could go to the tournament.

	Two other girls walked into the bathroom, giving only cursory
glances at Achika before disappearing into separate stalls. Achika brushed
back her hair one last time, made sure her simple stud earrings were still
in place, and walked out.

	Achika had what was by all accounts an odd schedule.  She had the
history course which wasnormal for people in her grade level to take, but
because she was a recent arrival to Hinansho--her mother had been
transferred to Nagano-2 from the interim capital of Earth's moon--she hadn't
taken the normal course in Royal Government and Citizenship which most
students took their freshman year.  Thus, she had Dr. Sakachi for two
classes, an unusual position for a high school student to be in.  Then
again, she had to admit that without being in that position, she probably
wouldn't have gotten her spot at the tournament.

	So lost was she in her thoughts that she never saw him until she
walked straight into him, their foreheads colliding.

***

	Takeshi Ashida was in an excellent mood.  The seventeen year old boy
had just aced a calculus exam, one that he had been dead certain he had
failed after taking it.  With this grade, he was virtually assured of
passing the course, and more importantly getting his father off his back. 
In his enthusiasm, the tall boy with short red hair might have been excused
for not looking where he was going, except that as mentioned previously
another girl had been similarly occupied in her thoughts.

	With a soft thud, their heads met.  Achika made an exclaimation of
pain and surprise as they both hit the floor.  On contact, their heads made
sick, rifle-sharp sounds that echoed through the hallway much more ominously
than simply bumping heads had.  For a second, no-one moved.  Then a girl
screamed.

***

	Three rooms down the hall, Dr. Sakachi was walking into the room
where she would teach her government class when she heard the scream.
Curiosity and fear brought her up at the door, and she looked up the hall
to the source of the scream.  Students were rapidly converging on the
area, and Jen's concern grew.  Still holding her books and handlink, she
too followed the other students, first at a brisk walk, and then running
the last few steps.  The students quickly made way for her, her dark blue
jacket marking her as as authority figure to those who didn't recognize
the redhead.

	Her first sight of the two was Achika, lying flat on her back. Blood
trickled from a cut on her forehead, and the rise and fall of her chest as
she breathed was much too light for Jen's comfort.  Her eyes were shut. 
Takeshi wasn't much better off.  He was on his side, left leg twitching
slightly.  No bleeding, but there was definitely a bump growing on his
forehead.  His eyes flickered, as if unable to decide whether to remain
conscious or just succumb to the injury.

	Jen wasn't a medical doctor, but she was well-trained in first aid. 
First things first, though.  "Step back!  Make room!" Jen waved her arms in
a shoo-ing motion, hoping to give the injured some space.  With hardly a
thought, she pulled her communicator from nowhere and pushed two buttons at
once.

	"Ops, Commander Leeds," came the voice.

	"Vanessa, contact civilian medics and get them here immediately! Two
students injured with head injuries, don't know how severe."

	Vanessa didn't waste time with pleasantries.  "I'm on it, sir."

	"Ma'am," corrected Jen absentmindedly.  "You have my coordinates?"

	"Yes sir . . . ma'am, matching you with a floor plan now."  Jen
waited, knowing that from her console at Planetary Defense Headquarters,
Vanessa was overlaying a map of the city, and specifically Furikato High, on
the position the computers and satellites were giving for Jen's
communicator. "Okay, got it.  Second floor, hallway twelve.  ETA on the
medics is four minutes."

	"Thank you," said Jen.  Already, other teachers were beginning to
gather as well, either to see for themselves how badly the two were hurt or
to move the other students along to their classes.  Jen looked back down at
the two.  They were breathing, at least. Hopefully they'd stay that way
until help arrived.

***

Planetary Defense Headquarters

	Vanessa finished her conversation with the ambulance crew that was
on its way to the high school, and clicked the channel closed.  She leaned
back and adjusted her headset, watching as the rest of the staff went about
their business on what had been a normal, routine day until a couple minutes
ago.

	"Was that Captain Sakachi?" asked the woman sitting across from her,
whose small face was framed by short, black hair.  The name tag on her black
naval jumpsuit read Cdr. K Young.

	Vanessa nodded and brushed back a stray lock of brown hair.
"Apparently there was an accident at her school."

	Kim sipped at her coffee.  "And she didn't contact the local
medics?"

	Vanessa shrugged.  "Instinct, I guess.  Easier than doing it on a
handlink."

	"Well, maybe, but handlinks have the panic button."

	"But those have to go through more computers . . . oh well."  Kim
smiled slightly.  "By the way, nice going with remembering to use ma'am
instead of sir," she taunted.

	The thirty-something mother of two blushed.  "Force of habit,"
Vanessa said sheepishly.  "The reg just got passed a couple weeks ago, I
don't see why we needed it anyway."

	"I don't either, to be honest," admitted Kim.  "Sir worked perfectly
fine; why the change?" Unbeknownst to either of them, someone else was
thinking the same thing.

***

Inner Sanctum of the Planet Senshi and Her Majesty Queen Serenity II

	Sailor Mars was not having a good day.  To be perfectly honest, she
hadn't had many good days in the last few years.  If you asked her--not that
there were many people who could ask her and not receive a very evil
glare--she would tell you her current string of bad days had begun in
the first couple months of 3035, and had continued almost uninterrupted to
the present day.

	First the crisis, then the war, then the aftermath of the war. The
three had combined to age her terribly, age her more than almost anything
else had in her nearly 1100 years of existence.  Physically, she still
looked like the young woman she had for centuries, but her eyes . . . the
eyes told the whole story.  The eyes were why few dared stare down Sailor
Mars, not her well known and famous temper.

	No-one stared down Mars today, though it hadn't been enough to make
this a good day.  A truly good day, for her, would be to be back on a real
planet.  To feel the sun on her face, wind on her skin, grass beneath and
between her toes.  She would love for nothing more than be able to be on a
planet where the kami she prayed to were so much more alive and personable
than the dead, sterile kami who inhabited the lunar rabbit warren that many
of the displaced people of Japan called home.

	Even given all her wishes, though, even if she could be back to the
old Hikawa Shrine, she would still be having a bad day.  If a hypothetical,
fearless person were to ask her why, and if Sailor Mars was so thoughtless
and careless to let her closely guarded secret out, she would answer with
four words: Queen Serenity the Second.

	Sailor Mars stalked down the hallways, nodding slightly to the
guards she passed, according full bows to the senshi.  She had been at Royal
Star Navy Headquarters, and now planned to pay a visit to her monarch.

	'What a shame it's not her mother,' she thought.  The Queen's
mother, Neo-Queen Serenity I, had been so much more reasonable.  The two had
their disagreements, to be sure, but both understood and knew it to be part
of the very special friendship they shared . . . a bond that perhaps not
even Endymion had with his wife.  Sailor Mars and Serenity I were very
closely paired.  She had sworn to defend her Queen to the death, and on
three separate occasions she had.  It was a devotion unmatched in human
history, and Sailor Mars had been proud to uphold it.

	Then her beloved . . . her Queen, that is, stepped down. Resigned. 
Abdicated.  Quit.  Ever since then, it had been like a part of Sailor Mars
had been ripped out.  It didn't matter that Serenity I was still very much
alive and well.  To the best of Sailor Mercury's knowledge, the blonde
haired marvel would continue to live well into the next millennium, which
wasn't the point.  The point was that she, Sailor Mars, had and continued to
have unwavering devotion, admiration, and yes, love, for Serenity I.  That
simply couldn't be said for Serenity's daughter, the present Serenity II.

	"Mainly because she's so bloody *annoying!*" whispered Sailor Mars
sharply to herself.  Even though the hallway was empty, she didn't need the
Moon abuzz with rumors that old Mars was talking to herself now.  Continuing
to fume, she reached the final door leading to the private chambers of
Serenity II.  She bowed to the two senshi standing sentry duty outside the
main door, a beautiful golden affair with crescent moons and classical
hearts in pearl and diamond.

	"Greetings," she said to the one of the left, Sailor Algenib.
"Would you please inform Her Majesty that Sailor Mars requests the favor
of a visit?"

	Sailor Algenib, a black haired woman with average height and fuku
colors of lavender and green, nodded.  "Yes, ma'am."

	Sailor Mars tried very hard not to growl aloud at that.  She settled
for grinding her teeth.  On her right, Sailor Enif wasn't as successful at
holding back several beads of sweat.  The blonde senshi of yellow and blue
self-consciously stood at attention as Sailor Algenib reached for the phone
behind her on the wall and began speaking.  After a moment, Algenib looked
up and at Mars.

	"Her Majesty will see you now," she said with a bow.  Both Algenib
and Enif pressed their gloved hands to panels on the wall, a slight chime
was heard, and the massive double doors slowly swung inward.  Mars bowed to
both and walked into the entryway of the suite of the most powerful woman in
the universe, not noticing the doors as they closed behind her.

	Queen Serenity II stood before her, dressed in a pair of sweatpants,
t-shirt, and warm-up jacket.  The monarch was in the process of sliding a
headband around her forehead as Sialor Mars entered.  Large red eyes blinked
as the senshi of fire took three steps forward, then dropped in a
traditional curtsey.

	"Your Majesty," said Sailor Mars, bowing her head.

	Serenity finished putting on her headband and rubbed the bridge of
her nose in irritation.  "How many times am I going to have to tell you that
you don't need to do that?" she asked.

	"Protocol dictates the proper form of address, Serenity-sama."

	"Protocol can be changed," said Serenity simply, bending down to tie
the laces of her sneakers.  "Anyway, I was about to go do some exercise. 
Were you going to join me, or did you have something else on your mind?"

	Sailor Mars sighed inwardly.  Serenity II: what an enigma.  Raised
from birth to be Queen, and yet when she finally ascended to the throne she
somehow lacked the formality Mars was accustomed to.  True, Serenity's
mother had a way of dropping the formality when in private which was
something to which royalty was entitled.  She extended it to public affairs,
though, sometimes to the mortification of the planet senshi who were to
protect her.  So puzzling.

	"No, Serenity-sama, I won't be exercising with you.  Actually, it
was protocol about which I wished to speak with you today."

	Serenity rolled her eyes and attended to the other sneaker.  "Oh,
please don't tell me you're still upset about last week's decision!"

	"Serenity-sama," said Sailor Mars, not budging from her position of
attention, "I was in the command center this afternoon-"

	"-which is a shame, really, all the time you spend in there."

	"-and I was troubled by the confusion there.  Officers are unsure of
themselves now.  Before, they never hesitated, referring to everyone with
sir.  Now they halt, they pause, they look to see if the orders are given by
men or women.  It's a terrible, inefficient waste of time, and I'm really
worried that it might eventually reflect poorly on our ability to function
in a crisis."

	Serenity finished tying her shoelaces and stood, then began some
stretches, her exercise attire completely out of place in the entryway that
was decorated with the finest and most expensive paintings and sculptures. 
"This is just the introductory period," she said simply, pink ponytails
bobbing as she did toe touches.  "Give them a few weeks and they'll get the
hang of it, trust me."

	"Perhaps, but if there were an emergency tomorrow there could be
difficulties."

	The other woman finished her toe touches and began neck rolls. "If
there was an emergency tomorrow, I think people would rely on routine. 
Don't you agree?"

	"Yes," said Sailor Mars cautiously.

	"So if they're used to saying sir, they'll fall back on it in a
crisis, and they'll be expecting it, right?"

	"True."

	"So you see, there's really no reason to worry at all!"  Serenity
ceased the neck rolls and looked with her red eyes directly into the
violet eyes of Sailor Mars.

	She knew when she was beat.  "I understand, Serenity-sama.  It was
silly of me to protest."

	Serenity chuckled and walked over, clapping a hand on her shoulder. 
"No, you weren't silly at all.  You were looking out for the men and women
under your command, that's never a bad thing.  You just have to think it
through sometimes, and then you'll find the answers to your questions
yourself."

	The raven-haired senshi nodded.  "Of course, though I still don't
understand why you came to this decision."

	"Because we needed a change," said Serenity simply.  She leaned
against a wall and pulled up one foot backwards in her hand.  "Calling
everyone sir didn't sit well with me.  There are better ways to show the
sexes are equal than calling everyone by a male pronoun, don't you think?"

	"Sailor Mercury's linguistic study showed that sir had become almost
gender-neutral, though."

	"Almost isn't good enough!"  Sailor Mars stared.  "Something has to
be done, we both know that."

	"You're still hung up on sexism, aren't you?" said Sailor Mars
wearily. It was barely a question.

	"Yes.  We live in a matriarchy, but that doesn't mean we have to
intentionally diminish the role of men in society.  In colonizing a new
capital, we have to provide a firm foundation for the equality of men and
women together."

	Sailor Mars set her mouth in a thin, neutral line.  It was the
beginning of an argument they and the other planet senshi had had many times
over the last few years.  These arguments were almost invariably won by
Serenity, and as a result more and more of Serenity's reforms were being
pushed through, with the senshi unusually powerless to stop them. Serenity I
was of no help; she spent her time in the old Moon Palace, whiling away the
days in occupations she had put off for far too long.

	Sailor Mars and the other planet senshi had labored for centuries
to make the Crystal Millennium what it was.  Now this Queen, not even on
the throne ten years, was poised to wipe it all away in favor of something
new.  What that something new was, no-one knew.  Not the general populace,
not the senshi, perhaps not even Serenity II herself.

	Now, as Sailor Mars simply nodded her surrender and withdrew to
allow her queen the exercise, she had to wonder what could be done to stop
these rapid changes upon rapid changes.  Above that, though, was one other
question: could anything be done?  The military couldn't be allowed to set
policy, that was the lesson supposedly learned from World War II. Mars could
only execute the policy dictated by Serenity.  Or would even that facade be
torn away?

	Despite Sailor Mars's connection with the element of fire, she felt
very cold as she returned to her quarters.

***

Nagano-2 General Hospital
Room 2020

	Achika opened her eyes slowly, shivering slightly and feeling cold
for a reason that she couldn't adequately explain.  Cold, white florescent
lights greeted her, and she sighed.  "Not this ceiling again."

	"Afraid so," said a voice beside her.  Achika started to turn her
head slightly, then groaned with pain.  "Better not," continued the voice,
"or you'll wish you hadn't.  You're still not back together."

	Achika closed her eyes again.  "I didn't get hit with a soccer ball
to the head again, did I, Sakachi-sensei?

	Jen got up from her seat at Achika's bedside to look out the window. 
"No, not this time," she said wryly.  "You have a fellow student to thank
for this."

	"What?!"

	"Takeshi Ashida, from your history class.  You two collided--he's
all right, by the way," interjected Jen, noticing the alarmed look on
Achika's face.  "Slight concussion from hitting the floor; I gather that you
both fell in awkward ways."

	"Have I . . . have I been asleep long?"

	"Only overnight," answered Jen.

	"Oh kami-sama . . . how long have you been here?"

	Jen smiled slightly.  "A few hours."

	"A few?"

	The smile turned nervous.  "Well, since you got here, actually."

	Achika's eyes flew open again.  Indeed, Jen was still wearing her
teacher's uniform, and her hair looked like it hadn't been attended to in
several hours.  "But what about the tournament?"

	Jen shrugged.  "It's double elimination, I can afford to miss a
match for one of my students."

	Tears welled up unbidden in Achika's eyes.  "You shouldn't have."
It mortified her to think that she had been responsible for her teacher's
missing a match in the most important event of her life.

	"Jen's good at doing things she shouldn't do," said a third voice
coolly.  Achika kept her head straight while Jen turned to face the door. An
embarrassed smile crossed the redhead's face.

	"Hi, Eileen."

	"Hey, Jen."  Eileen Pearcy, dressed in a business suit, walked over
and hugged her lover.  "Still up here?"

	Jen nodded.  "I didn't feel comfortable leaving until she was
awake.  Now that she is, well, I guess I'll be going, Achika-san."

	Eileen let go of Jen and walked over to Achika's side.  She looked
down into the girl's eyes curiously.  "I've heard lots about ya, Achika,"
said Eileen in her rapidly improving accent.  "How're you feeling?"

	Eileen . . . Sakachi-sensei's companion and lover.  It was no
secret, even though the love life of her teacher would ordinarily be no
concern of hers.  What was her last name again?  Oh yes!

	"I'm . . . I'm a bit tired, to be honest, Pearcy-san, and very
thirsty."

	"Thirsty, huh?"  Eileen looked up from Achika and to Jen with a
mock-angry glare.  "You've been dehydrating this poor girl?"

	Jen giggled.  "No, not at all.  I guess it's the IVs they have her
on." She smiled reassuringly at Achika.  "I'll be sure to tell the nurses to
get you something to drink on our way out, okay Achika-san?"

	"Yes," said Achika softly, blushing slightly at the attention.

	"And after that," said Eileen, "there's another guy out there who
wants to talk to you.  Name's . . . hm, what was it again?" Eileen rubbed
her chin and looked at the ceiling, making a big show of pretending to think
about it.  "Oh yeah, does the name Yusuke ring a bell?"

	Yusuke-kun!  "He's here?" she asked excitedly.  "Wonderful!"

	Eileen shared a knowing glance with her lover.  "I guess that means
yes.  We'll show him in.  See ya later, kiddo."

	Jen nodded as well.  "The doctors say you'll be out tomorrow,
Achika-san, and be as good as new the day after.  You'll be ready for my
next match!"

	Achika's smile grew even larger.  "I can't wait!"

	The redhead giggled.  "So long, Achika-san."  She and Eileen walked
out, hand in hand.  As they left, Achika closed her eyes and sighed
dreamily.  Back to work the day after tomorrow, and with a visit from her
boyfriend immediately to boot!  What had started out as a horrible wakeup
had quickly turned into one of the happier days of her life.  To think that
if it hadn't been for that one visit to the club, Sakachi-sensei might never
have paid any attention to me at all.  Her mind flitted back idly to that
day.

***

The Nagano-2 Lawn Tennis and Swimming Club
27 January 3043

	Achika had just finished doing laps in the pool.  It was one of her
favorite ways to relax, along with bicycle riding.  Given the freezing rain
that was pouring down outside, bicycling wasn't really an option on this
early winter's day.  So she had to settle for swimming at the club that her
mother had membership in.  After a solid hour, she'd had enough.  Soon after
hitting the showers and changing back into street clothes, she found herself
wandering around the complex, waiting for the next bus to arrive.  At
fifteen years, she wasn't quite old enough to drive a car.  Thus, she was
dependent on the city bus line to take her to her home on Sakura Drive.

	"This is boring," she said aloud, her sports bag slung over her
shoulder.  She hated the video games in the arcade, didn't play pool, and
didn't care to watch any of the television programs on in the viewing rooms. 
She was about to just go and sit under the provided enclosure outside to
wait for the bus when something caught her eye.

	Strolling through the walkway that separated the two rows of indoor
tennis courts, she had seen a flash of red hair.  Turning her head, she saw
a rather tall woman.  Very tall, in fact, over a hundred and eighty
centimeters, and very well built.  She wore traditional tennis attire: white
short sleeved shirt with sweater vest, short white pleated skirt, white
socks and sneakers, and white sweatband on her forehead.  Her blue eyes were
framed by black glasses, and she moved on the court with a calm, easy, and
deceptively fast manner.

	As she happened to run towards Achika's side of the court, she could
see that the face of the player was that of her teacher, Dr. Jennifer
Sakachi.  Her first impulse was to shout out, "SAKACHI-SENSEI!"
Unfortunately for both her and Jen, she did it.

	Distracted, Jen looked up at Achika and failed to square herself to
the ball at the right time.  If Jen had squared perfectly it would have been
a tough return, but her failure made it all the harder: the ball hit her
side, forcing her to turn sympathetically.  This, in turn, caused her ankle
to twist slightly, with the end result being a thoroughly ungraceful fall to
the artificial surface of the court.  "Dammit!"

	Ignoring her teacher's curse, Achika raced around and inside the
enclosed court to see to Jen's welfare.  As the girl dropped her bag and
crouched down, Jen's opponent also crossed over the net.

	"Are you okay there, sir?" asked Vanessa Leeds.  She, too, was in
tennis attire, except that she wore shorts instead of a skirt.

	"I'm fine," said Jen, getting to her feet.  She looked down at her
knees and scowled.  "Should have been paying better attention."

	Achika immediately stood and bowed deeply in apology.  "It was my
fault, Sakachi-sensei!  I shouldn't have distracted you!"

	Jen blinked, as if noticing Achika for the first time. "Achika-san? 
What are you doing here?"

	"I, um, well, I was swimming!"

	The redhead blinked again, then smiled.  "Makes sense, I guess. 
Perfect sense.  I didn't know you had a membership here."

	"I didn't know you had one either," retorted Achika, then
immediately regretted it.  "Oh, Sakachi-sensei, I'm sorry!"

	Jen waved it off.  "Don't worry about it," she said.  "I got
membership here as soon as I could; I needed a way to occupy my time.  It
was a distraction from . . . other things.  Oh yes, Vanessa, this is Achika
Shibata, one of my students. Achika-san, this is Commander Vanessa Leeds,
one of the three deputy commanders of Planetary Defense Command."

	Achika bowed low to Vanessa.  "I'm pleased to meet you."

	"Same here," replied Vanessa, bowing in return.  "Do you come here
often?"

	"Yes," said Achika, still getting used to being with one of the
planet's sailor senshi and one of its highest military officers.  "I like
to swim."

	Vanessa turned to Jen.  "We have a swimmer here, sir.  Maybe Kim
would like to meet her?"

	"Maybe," agreed Jen.  The redhead picked up her racquet and the
ball, and bounced the ball twice in contemplation.  "Well, Achika-san, I
guess we'll be getting back to our little friendly match-"

	"Actually, Sakachi-sensei," began Achika, "actually, I'd be honored
if you'd allow me to stay and watch."

	Jen and Vanessa shared a glance.  "Oh, I don't think we can allow
a spectator," said Jen slowly.  Achika's face fell.

	"However," Vanessa said, "I think we can have a ballgirl. What do
you think?"

	Achika immediately brightened.  "Okay . . . what do I have to do?"

	"You can fetch the balls when we miss a point or hit it in the
net.  It would speed up the match a bit, and maybe you'll learn some
pointers from watching us."  Jen's smile was warm as she said it; she was
always glad to interact with students outside school walls.

	"I've never played tennis before . . . ."

	"You'll want to by the time we're done.  Ready?"

	"Yes!"

***

Nagano-2 General Hospital
Room 2020

	And so it had gone.  Achika had begun attending Jen's tennis
practices and matches, and when the Fourth Annual Hinansho Tennis
Championship had begun, Jen had used her connections at the Club for Achika
to work as one of the ballgirls at each of Jen's matches.  Achika had loved
being so close to her teacher as Sakachi worked through the tournament ranks
. . . she had to admit that she held a great deal of admiration for her. 
Not love, at least not in a romantic or sexual way.

	Although she knew quite a few classmates--male and female--who were
attracted to Jen, she wasn't one of them.  She didn't consider herself
lesbian, or even bi; her boyfriend was all she needed.  Something in
Jennifer Sakachi simply inspired her to do her best, whether on exams, on
the tennis court, or even in the dream she had never confessed to anyone,
given its impossibility: to be a sailor senshi.  Her reverie was interrupted
by a knock on the door.

	"Um, Achika-chan?"

	"Yusuke-kun!"  The sterile walls of the hospital room seemed to grow
warmer with her simple cry.  "I'm so glad you came!"

	Yusuke blatantly ignored doctor's orders, reaching down to hug his
girlfriend in the hospital bed, brushing back her hair with affection.  "I
was here last night, but you were still asleep, and then I had to go home. 
Sakachi-sensei *forced* me to!"

	"It's okay," she reassured.  "You're here now, that's what matters."

	"Are you feeling all right?" he asked.  She *looked* all right, with
no more tubes or wires leading to or from her, but it never hurt to check.

	"I'm much better now!  Sakachi-sensei says I'll be out tomorrow."

	Yusuke smiled, running a hand through his short-cropped black hair. 
"Great," he said with no small amount of relief.  "I was so worried when I
heard what happened." Indeed he had; it had been all his parents could do to
stop Yusuke Okuma from rushing to the emergency room.  As he had waited
there the previous night, all he could think of was the possibility of
losing the girl he had met months ago, and of how he had met her on that
cold autumn night.

***

Nagano-2
11 November 3042

	Another rainy day, this one further back.  Yusuke Okuma tapped a
booted foot on the water-covered pavement, beating out a tune only he could
hear.  Everywhere around him was the rain, cold and damp.  It had frozen
last night, and even now far-off Nozomi tried to melt the ice that covered
the untreated parts of the sidewalk.  Every once in awhile the sky to the
east began to show signs of lightening, but for the most part the heavens
were covered by an unbroken, low layer of gray rain clouds.

	It was times like these, he reflected as he waited for the bus,
that made a person glad for the invention of the umbrella.  He looked up
at his umbrella, black save for the logo of one of Nagano-2's soccer teams,
and smiled.  "What a beautiful day."

	"Speak for yourself!"

	Yusuke turned, surprised at the sharpness in the tone of the voice
behind him.  He saw a girl, perhaps fourteen or fifteen, wearing a yellow
hat and raincoat, and thoroughly soaked.  Slung over her shoulder was a
similarly soaked and seemingly heavy bookbag.  Truth be told, she wasn't
much to look at.  Some hair had escaped the bounds of her hat and lay
plastered to her coat, her face was pale, and she looked pretty miserable. 
But his heart went out to her, to be caught out on such a chilly day without
any protection.

	"Here," he said without thinking, handing her his umbrella. Almost
instantly he regretted it; the rain was cold, and soon his hair was quite
wet, his school uniform coat unable to keep up with the attack of water. 
Perhaps going without his raincoat had been a mistake.  The look on the
girl's face as she took the umbrella was worth it, though.  Her red eyes lit
up with happiness, and a smile creased that pale, rain-wet face.  It didn't
take much to imagine that those were tears of gratitude dripping from her
cheeks, and not just simple raindrops.

	"Thank you," she said warmly.

	Yusuke waved it off.  "It was nothing . . . I don't think we've met,
I'm Yusuke Okuma."

	The girl bowed.  "Pleased to meet you.  My name is Achika Shibata;
my family just moved here last week."

	The boy raised an eyebrow.  Newcomers were fewer and fewer these
days, as people on the Moon waited for the declaration of a new capital to
which to go.  He rarely saw new transfers, and when they came they were
usually from the more rural parts of the planet.  Nagano-2 was only the
capital of Hinansho, after all: there were still a good half million others
scattered over the other continents.  "Are you from the country?" he asked.

	"Country?"  Achika blinked in slight incomprehension for a moment,
then shook her head.  "No, my mother was transferred here from Luna."

	"Oh?"  This was a surprise.

	"Yes, she was a xenozoologist at the University of Crystal Tokyo
before the war." An awkward pause, a pause that was common when discussing
the watershed year of 3035.  "She wanted to come here and study the aliens
who came here last year."

	"I see," he said thoughtfully.  It was true that Hinansho had been
the target of a failed alien invasion not so long ago, and the few that had
surrendered were still there.  They had refused to be moved to the Moon,
preferring to stay away from the attention they were sure to receive close
to humanity's homeworld.  Thus, the Royal Institute for the Study of
Sentient Life was located in Monoyama, Nagano-2's main suburb.

	A few moments passed in silence, neither of the two knowing what to
say next.  By the time something was on the tip of Yusuke's tongue, the bus
had arrived.  He stood and waited as Achika stepped aboard, then followed. 
Both promptly decided that it would be better to stand than sit in their wet
clothes, and so they grabbed the ceiling handholds while others took their
seats.

	It was a longer than average ride to their school, considering
traffic and weather conditions.  Yusuke watched the water drip from his
umbrella, the splatter of the droplets inaudible over the slight hum of the
motor and the louder hum of conversations around them.  Finally, with
Furikato High nearly in sight, he mustered the courage to ask what he had
been about to ask before the bus came.  "Achika-san?"

	"Yes?" asked the girl, who was vainly trying to wring out her skirt
beneath her coat.

	"What classes are you taking?"

	She thought a moment, closing her eyes.  "I don't remember
completely, to be honest.  Here, I'll look." She fished around one of the
pockets of her coat and retrieved a handlink.  "Drat!  I must not have
fastened the pocket flap right, there has to be a centimeter of water in
here!" The small handheld computer was dripping wet, with water beading and
streaking down its surface.

	"Good thing they make them waterproof," he remarked, watching her
slim fingers dance across the screen and few buttons of the device.

	"Mother says that they're designed to last a thousand years, though
I never believed her.  But you're right, they're pretty cool."

	Yusuke leaned back slightly, supporting even more weight on the
hands with which he was holding on to the overhead handles.  "I remember
that I had one buried by our dog once.  It was in summer . . . I had lost my
handlink, and I didn't think anything of it.  It's just a handlink, right,
no big deal to get a new one?  So I used the new one, and after a bit of
looking we eventually forgot about it.

	"Then, the next spring, my dad's out working in the backyard,
getting ready for the fertilizer and stuff, and while he's digging a hole
for our new apple tree, he hears a 'clank!' Turns out the dog had buried it
in that corner of the yard, and it stayed a good twenty centimeters down all
through winter!  Imagine, all those thaws and freezes, rain and snow, and a
shovel right on the screen . . . well, we brought it inside, rinsed it off,
switched it on . . . and it was working fine."

	Achika laughed at that, a melodic sound that brought a strange joy
to his heart.  It wouldn't be until several days later that he could put the
proper label to that feeling, a cherished four letter word called love.

	The bus stopped outside the school, where other students were
walking briskly to the doors and inside, unwilling to tarry long under the
weeping skies.  The two filed off, Achika being sure to push the button on
the umbrella's handle in order to unfurl it.  As Yusuke followed, she held
it out over both their heads.  Their shoulders were outside its protection,
but their heads stayed dry, or at least they didn't get any wetter. 
Yusuke's face warmed as he expressed his thanks for the gesture.  Things
were definitely looking up, but . . . he stopped just as they had walked
inside the doors of the school. "Achika-san?"

	"Yes, Yusuke-san?"

	"You never told me what classes you were taking!"

	"Oh!"  She giggled and went back to work on her handlink.  "Let's
see . . . history first period, then literature, chemistry, lunch,
government, painting, and calculus." She winced.  "Horrible way to end the
day."

	"Hm . . . who do you have for history?"

	Achika pushed another two buttons, then waited a mere second for her
handlink to return the query.  "Dr. Jennifer Sakachi," she murmured, drawing
out the last name in long disbelief.  "Sailor Orion?" she asked Yusuke.

	The boy nodded with a smile.  "The one and only.  I'm surprised you
hadn't heard earlier; her friend Sailor America is one of the evening news
broadcasters here."

	"Really?  Great!"  Her eyes had lit up with an excitement Yusuke
frequently saw in girls who were talking about sailor senshi.  It was the
world he was used to; the concept that he and his male peers lacked such
role models had never occurred to him.  "What's she like?"

	"Well, actually I think she's pretty approachable.  When you're in
her classes you never even think about her as a senshi, just a teacher . . .
and a good one, too." He looked at her schedule, then gestured before him. 
"Come on, I'll show you where your first class is."

	"Thank you," she said with a slight bow.  "You've had her before?"

	Yusuke nodded.  "I still do, actually.  I'm in your first period
class," he smiled.

	"How lucky I am," she remarked.  "First day, and I'm with you to
show me the way."

	"It is a pleasure, madam," he said in a cultured accent that fit his
impressions of how people from the Moon spoke.

	Achika smiled.

***

Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
5 June 3043

	In her bedroom, the most powerful woman in the known galaxy awoke.
She blinked, yawned, and stretched her limbs, scratching her left knee
reflectively.  Then, she turned her attention to the clock on her
nightstand.  The red LED display said it was 07:33.

	"Argh," she said, stretching again.  Once again, Serenity II cursed
the Tsukino family trait of oversleeping.  Breakfast with the planet senshi
was to be at 8:00, and she wasn't ready at all.  Then again, it wasn't as if
this was a first.  She had some experience in dealing with such a situation.

	With a muffled sigh, she rolled out of bed and on to her feet,
stretching again in her nightgown and yawning before padding off to the
bathroom.  There were shortcuts she could take, but she preferred the
relaxing qualities of a nice shower.

	Her shower had a waterproof computer screen on the wall, an
innovation that passed in and out of fashion depending on how much people
wanted the outside world to intrude in as private a place as this.  While
in fashion for some time, it was beginning to fall out of favor, and
Serenity was wondering if she should have the screen removed.  Not now,
though; at the moment it was displaying her itinerary for the day.  After
breakfast, it was an almost uninterrupted string of meetings with
advisors, counselors, and . . . .

	"Dammit," she whispered, letting a small, yet determined, fist thud
against the walls of the shower.  Warm water continued to wash over her, but
washing was no longer the first thing on her mind.  "How *dare* they? 
Haven't they done enough?"

	"Enough with what, Usagi-chan?"

	Only three beings in the universe had the right to call her by that
name.  Of them, only one would dare enter the bathroom at the same time she
used it.  "Enough to me, Diana," Serenity replied.  She pushed a button on
the computer to kill the display and began lathering up her hair with vigor.

	On the other side of the privacy screen that separated the shower
from the rest of the room, the small, gray, sentient cat cocked her head.
From the body language of the blurred outline behind the screen, she could
see that her Queen was quite upset.  However, she hadn't seen anything in
the news or heard anything from the rumor mills that would produce this sort
of mood.

	Serenity sighed.  "Sailor Uranus and three other planets senshi want
to see me at 13:00 today about picking a new capital world."

	Diana sighed as well, a habit she had picked up from the woman she
advised.  "They still hate Tange-san, don't they?"

	Behind the screen, Serenity nodded, turning to let the water rinse
the shampoo from her hair.  "Hidemichi Tange is one of the best
planetologists in his field, and yet my mother acceded to the 'suggestion'
of the planet senshi in allowing a less qualified woman to head the
Colonization Board.  And when I promoted Tange-san instead of that woman to
the commission to find a new world for the capital . . . ."

	She turned off the water and stepped out, unheeding of her nudity.
Outside her parents, and perhaps the exception of Sailor Saturn, Diana was
the being she trusted the most, someone around whom she could just relax and
be herself, not worrying about propriety, form, or fashion.  She kept
talking as she grabbed a towel and dried off.  "They're very insistent,
saying that he's doing a poor job. Personally I think it's a load of
garbage, especially since he was the only one to catch the problems with
Hinansho.  I bet if he had been in charge earlier we'd never have let anyone
settle on that planet in the first place, what with the stellar problems. 
Anyway, he's the best we have, and yet because of what's between his legs
half the planet senshi openly oppose him, and the other half do it silently! 
It's enough to drive me nuts!"

	Diana nodded.  That was her job, to listen and advise when no-one
else could be trusted to do so.  "You won't agree to their request?" she
asked delicately, politely skipping over the fact that the planet senshi
were exerting almost all of their considerable influence on the young Queen.

	"Of course not," said Serenity easily.  Seven minutes to breakfast,
and it was time to let magic take over.  It was one of the things she had
learned to do early on with the ginzuishou: a bit of low-level cosmetic
magic to dry and arrange her hair, summon some simple earrings into her
earlobes, a simple necklace.

	She stepped into her bedroom, where the same magic had already laid
out her clothes for the day.  Serenity didn't expect to leave the two floors
of the Royal Suites, so she could afford to dress casually: a long, flowing,
blue ankle-length skirt with a white and blue blouse.  She dressed quickly,
relying on the crystal to fix any wrinkles in her clothes.  It was a
frivolous use of power, but the truth was that she hadn't done anything
really important in some time, and there was no harm in it.

	Thus, at one minute to eight hundred hours Lunar Standard Time,
Queen Serenity II trotted down the stairs to the lower level, and then to
the foyer leading outside.  Checking behind her to make sure Diana was
following--which she was--Serenity pulled open the doors, stepped through,
and greeted the two senshi sentries.  "Good morning, Sailor Achernar, Sailor
Canopus."

	"Good morning, Your Majesty," the other two replied in unison.

	Serenity nodded.  "I'd stay and chat, but I must be going.  So
long!" She bowed to the senshi and went on her way.  Down the hall, a left,
a right, and another right, and she was at the Royal Dining Room, the one
used when she needed to talk business over meals.  Otherwise she just stayed
in her own suites and ate privately.  Occasionally she would have her
parents over, but that was rare.

	Diana mused on this as she sat at the special seat at the table
reserved for her.  Sailors Cassiopeia, Jupiter, Mercury, and Neptune stood
as Serenity entered, as did the cooks who were waiting with breakfast, but
she paid them little mind.  Cats had their own procedures.  She watched her
monarch give thanks for her meal and begin to eat her pancakes, which were
liberally coated with butter and syrup.  Diana worried about her a lot.  Too
much, claimed her mother, but she couldn't help it.  The Queen shouldn't be
so terribly alone.

	If it weren't for official business, Serenity would never leave her
suites.  Today was a typical day; all business, precious little
entertainment.  It wasn't that Serenity didn't know how to enjoy herself;
she did.  She routinely ran laps at the track, swam, played one-on-one
basketball with a different senshi every week.  Serenity II was definitely
more active than her mother had been, physically.  Mentally, she certainly
kept herself challenged, reading books on government, political theory and
philosophy, trying to teach herself to be a better ruler.

	But she lacked friends.  As a princess, Serenity hadn't had many,
and now as a young adult, Diana could see the yearning that was suppressed
daily.  Her only real friend growing up had been Sailor Saturn, and the
black-haired woman rarely had the chance to stop by and talk.  The planet
senshi were only acquaintances and bodyguards, advisors who more often than
not gave her advice she'd rather ignore.  The other senshi weren't much
better.  The servants were so cowed by who she was, it was impossible to
have a normal conversation with any of them.

	Diana was extremely conscious of the frequent role she played as the
Queen's confidante, and some of the things Serenity confessed late at night
worried her.  Many times she was tempted to go play matchmaker, to find some
man--or woman, perhaps; Diana hadn't seen enough evidence either way--that
the Queen could really bond with, but each time she chased the idea out of
her head.  It wasn't her responsibility, and if Serenity found out if could
very likely be construed as interference.  But dammit, she had to do
something!

	Unaware of Diana's thoughts, Serenity II concentrated on her meal
and the conversation around her.

	"So the Murasaki supporters have agreed to cease their opposition to
the Aoi plan, so long as they get a majority on the shipbuilding council."
Sailor Mercury paused to take a bite from a blueberry muffin and a sip of
orange juice before proceeding.  "I think this is an encouraging
development, since naval growth has been at a near-standstill for the last
four months.  Sailor Uranus in particular has been itching for more of the
improved-drive ships, and with the sharp increase in interplanetary commerce
I'm not sure we can afford to delay much longer."

	"Agreed, Your Majesty," nodded Sailor Neptune.  She didn't mention
that she would be the next deputy commander in chief, or that her job would
be much more pleasant if more of the fast ships were in operation as she
took over next year.  Everyone knew it, but it was still something best left
unsaid, lest she give the impression of being too ambitious.  The last
ambitious deputy commander in chief had, after all, nearly started the 3035
war a hundred years early.

	Sailor Cassiopeia chewed thoughtfully on her rice cake.  She was the
only one at the table eating a traditional meal; pancakes and muffins and
sausage were too heavy a meal with which to start off the day.  "Murasaki
and his cohorts actively oppose any reestablishment of relations with Earth,
though I worry the Terran press might see this as a deliberate move to
worsen our relations."

	"We don't *have* any relations," said Sailor Jupiter patiently.

	"Exactly my point," replied Sailor Cassiopeia.  "It's been nearly
eight years since the war ended, we need to repair the breach somehow." She
put down her cake and looked up the table at Serenity.  "Your Majesty, when
you allowed immigration to continue last year, your approval ratings in
Australia and Europe were as high as they've been in nearly a century!  And
even in North America, opinions improved!  For the first time since the war,
Terrans began to look more favorably on you.  To the extent that this could
prevent a future war between us, I think it's imperative that we maintain
the beginnings of this era of good feelings!"

	"We shouldn't *care* what they think down there!" countered Sailor
Jupiter.  "Look, we're doing just fine here, we don't *need* their approval
for anything.  They don't have any ships that can threaten us, and they
never will."

	"Actually," Sailor Mercury interjected, "while they don't have ships
capable of leaving the solar system, they are definitely making progress in
their holdings inside the system.  Another colony is being founded on Titan,
and already expeditions are underway to a number of Uranian and Neptunian
satellites.  And interplanetary commerce within the system is at an all time
high." The blue haired senshi looked to the Queen. "Arguably, the only
reason Earth hasn't gone bankrupt after the war is because of increased
reliance on her colonies."

	"We shouldn't have let Terra keep them," murmured Sailor Neptune
almost inaudibly.  "They should still be our planets."

	"Why?" asked Sailor Cassiopeia sharply, picking up on what was meant
to be a private musing.  "Just so you planet senshi can keep tighter holds
on the planets you're named after?  We've already usurped the two best
planets for the Terrans to colonize, you're not happy until you're pushing
them to the outskirts of the system, and-"

	"Listen, you-"

	"That will be enough!"  The argument ceased immediately, and all
looked to Serenity II.  The woman clenched a glass of juice tightly, and she
took the time to glare at all four senshi before proceeding. "Honestly, the
way you act sometimes . . . Sailor Cassiopeia speaks wisely.  We can't
remain hostile to Earth forever.  When I issued the decree allowing
immigrants from Earth to apply for Moon Kingdom citizenship in small
numbers, I intended to heal the many wounds between our peoples."

	She gazed levelly at the three planet senshi.  "I'm sure you
remember the last time we faced a situation like this, when my grandmother
ignored the warning signs and allowed tensions between Earth and Moon to
worsen.  We all know what happened then.  I don't think any of you are too
eager to repeat that." Serenity II dabbed at her mouth with the napkin
politely, then stood.  "Murasaki and his party will not, under any
circumstances, be allowed a majority on the council.  I'll see it dissolved
first, and oversee its operations myself."

	The other senshi stood respectfully as she continued.  "Mercury,
Jupiter, Neptune, I'll see you at the meeting later.  Cassiopeia, if you
have some time later tonight, I'd like to hear some more about the Earth
popularity polls, if you don't mind?"

	Sailor Cassiopeia nodded; requests from the Queen were really just
polite orders, after all.  "Of course, Your Majesty."

	"Excellent.  Good day!"  With a bow, the Queen left, Diana following
quickly behind.  The four senshi stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. 
They might have felt a bit better if they knew that their Queen didn't know
what to do next, either.

***

The Nagano-2 Lawn Tennis and Swimming Club
Grass Court Number One
7 June 3043

	Achika did a few last stretches before taking her place.  She wore a
dark green skirt and shirt with broad horizontal purple stripes, the colors
of the Club.  They were also the colors worn by the five other ballboys and
ballgirls who were gathered around the water cooler behind the umpire's
chair of the court.

	She took a look up at the sky.  Mostly cloudy, and a bit cool, but
not cool enough for them to be allowed to wear their jackets.  That was
okay, though; their jobs would keep them warm enough on this cool early
summer day.  She and five others were charged with picking up the balls in
this, one of the quarterfinal matches of the Hinansho Tennis Championship.

	As she took her position to the left of the chair umpire and on the
far side, she thought over the odd turn of events the tournament had taken. 
The women's side of the draw had been marked with surprises and upsets, but
none perhaps as surprising as the advance through the ranks of one Jennifer
Sakachi.  The computers ranked her as one of the best amateurs on the
planet, but the general consensus had been that her over-reliance on her
powerful serve would be her undoing, and would prevent her from achieving
any real success.  So far the pundits had been proven wrong.  Despite her
weak backhand and poor returns, Jen's speed and above all her overwhelmingly
powerful and accurate serve had combined to rack up a surprising number of
victories.  The only roadbump had been her forfeiture of a match to stay at
Achika's bedside.

	Achika sighed.  That was the only reason Jen was playing today, she
knew.  If she hadn't skipped that match, Jen would have been able to wait
another day, and still have the luxury of a loss.  In this double
elimination tournament, Sakachi-sensei had already burned her one loss.  Her
next loss would mean she was out of the tournament, and Achika definitely
didn't want to be responsible for that.

	The judges and umpires filed out from behind the enclosure that led
to the locker rooms, and she straightened, standing in the customary
position: feet spread apart slightly, hands folded behind her, eyes looking
straight ahead at Kimiko, the girl across the court from her. Their eyes met
once, then Kimiko flicked to a groundskeeper who was inspecting the net and
making sure it was securely fastened.

	Achika sighed again and glanced at the clock which was hidden away
in the opposite corner of the court.  Jen and her opponent should be coming
out at any moment.  There would be a few minutes of warm-up, and then the
match.  She glanced at Kimiko one more time, then looked directly above her. 
In the stands, sitting in the guest box, was Jen's mate Eileen. Idly, Achika
wondered what the brown haired woman was thinking about at this stressful
time.

***

	"Worried, Pearcy-san?" asked Commander Sammy Porter.  The blonde
woman sat next to Eileen in the guest box, although dressed casually as
opposed to the uniform she usually wore.

	Eileen's eyes were inscrutable behind her sunglasses.  "I'm fine,"
she said easily.  She checked her watch.  "They should be out by now,
shouldn't they?"

	"Sometime soon," agreed Sammy.  "Are you sure you're not worried?"

	"Pearcys don't sweat," she said with a smile.  It was a taut smile,
though.  Eileen knew how much time her lover had spent practicing, squeezing
the time in between all her other obligations, and she delighted in Jen's
every victory as if it were her own.  She had read up on Jen's opponent. 
Makoto Tsurimi was a professional who had won competitions on two other
colony worlds, and placed second at the Royal Tennis Invitational on the
Moon.  With a devastating serve, powerful return, and spectacular agility,
the twenty-two year old was almost everyone's favorite to win the
championship.

	It was partly because of Makoto's galaxy-wide reputation that there
wasn't an empty spot to be found in the three-thousand seat stadium. Eileen
reflected a moment on the popularity of tennis, especially tennis on grass. 
A thousand years of genetic engineering had produced a variety of grass very
resilient in the face of being constantly stepped upon, run upon, stopped
upon, and generally used as a surface for sporting events.  Whether it was
football, soccer, or in this case tennis, the new strain of grass--named
after the Oita province where it was developed in Japan--stayed strong and
green.

	As Jen had told her before, it was this that allowed grass court
tennis to boom in popularity.  Where it had been on the decline before the
Silence, now over three-fourths of all tennis courts in the galaxy were
grass.  It certainly looked beautiful, and Jen claimed that she enjoyed the
challenge of the sometimes unpredictable bounces on grass, as opposed to the
always readable bounces on hard courts.

	The PA came to life.  "Ladies and gentlemen, today's competitors are
now arriving at the court.  Please welcome Jennifer Sakachi and Makoto
Tsurimi!"

	Applause broke out as the two women walked onto the court, each with
their bags slung over their shoulders.  Both wore white, with Makoto wearing
a sun visor.  The two walked to the side of the court opposite the chair
umpire, bowed to him, and continued walking.  Jen's face was neutral as she
walked, trying to keep her mind focused on the match at hand.  But her mouth
turned up in a slight smile as she heard dozens of high school girls
shouting her name.

***

	"Sakachi-sensei!"

	"Sakachi-sensei!"

	"SAKACHI-SENSEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIII!" yelled a particularly vociferous
girl sitting just behind Achika.  She winced slightly at the volume, but
appreciated the thought.  If it weren't for her obligation to stay neutral
on the court, she'd probably be shouting just as loudly as any of them. 
Still, she couldn't stop from whispering a few words.

	"Good luck, Sakachi-sensei."

***

	"Woooooooooooooooo!  YAY JEN!"

	"Um, Pearcy-san, won't you hurt your throat like that?"

	"Nah, I'll be fine.  GO JEN, YOU CAN DO IT!"  Sammy winced, but
otherwise made no other signs of discomfort.  The bridge of a ship in battle
could be louder, after all.

	The two looked down as Jen reached her seat on the chair umpire's
left, set her bag down on the grass, and pulled off her warm-up jacket.

***

	Jen drew a racket from her bag.  Despite her unlimited expense
account, she only had three rackets--admittedly of very good construction. 
This one wasn't her favorite, but she usually warmed up with it.  She jogged
out to the left baseline and ran in place a few moments, watching her
opponent do the same.  Makoto raised a yellow tennis ball, Jen nodded, and
practice began.

	As Jen lazily returned Makoto's serves, not overly worrying about
placement at such an early stage, she began to wonder if she could really
beat this woman.  It was one thing to watch at home, but now that she was on
the court she could see--and by trying to return serve, feel--the strength
of Makoto's serve.  Jen had never been especially good at returning
accurately, and she could see today she had no chance of hitting balls along
the line off of this serve.  She'd have to resort for the safe shots down
the middle and hopefully the corners as well.  That was, of course, exactly
what you wanted to avoid: making the opponent's job too easy.  Makoto would
have a field day, and it would be up to Jen's speed and agility to get to
the balls Makoto would undoubtedly spray all over the court.  Jen knew she
was fast, but could she be fast enough?

	After a couple minutes they traded, and Jen began to serve.  As she
did, she gradually felt her confidence return.  Sure, Makoto had a good
swing, but so did Jen.  As long as she kept that, the chances of being
broken would be slim, and that was one of the first keys to victory.

	Almost too soon, the warm-up period was over.  Jen returned to her
chair and bent over slightly to place her warm-up racquet in the bag and
pull out her best one.  Whispering a quick, quiet plea to the kami, she then
bowed again to the chair umpire.  Makoto would serve, so she didn't need to
get fresh balls from the ballgirls.

***

	By chance, Jen settled in to receive the serve in the same corner as
Achika.  The girl smiled as Jen approached, but Jen was too preoccupied to
do anything other than nod slightly and turn to face Makoto, who was wiping
her face with a towel and then handing it to another ballgirl.

	"Play," said the chair umpire.  Achika watched as Makoto tossed the
ball in the air, then struck it at the apex of its flight and sent it
hurtling over the net, bouncing in the far corner of the service box, and
then slamming into the wall next to a line judge.  Jen never had a chance to
move.  "Fifteen-love." intoned the chair umpire.  

	The crowd applauded politely.  Jen blinked twice, then squared her
shoulders and walked to the other end of the baseline.  Achika had to wince. 
An ace to start off the match; this definitely didn't bode well for
Sakachi-sensei.  Jen settled in for the next serve, swaying slightly and
eyes focused.

	"Thirty-love."

	Jen turned around and looked at the ball, which was being picked
up by the ballboy.  "How the devil did I miss that?" she whispered
angrily, going back to the other side of the baseline again.  Achika
couldn't catch what she was saying, but could read the expression on Jen's
face.  She definitely wasn't going to allow another ace.

	Makoto served, and this time Jen got her racket on the ball.  She
almost wished she hadn't; the sting of the impact went straight up her arm
and into her shoulder, and the mis-hit caused the ball to go straight up in
the air, landing on her side of the court.

	"Forty-love."

	"Dammit," said Jen, a bit louder this time.  She wasted little
time preparing for the next point.  The last three times Makoto had gone
for the corner; she doubted the woman would do it a fourth time.  Without
signaling her intent, she readied her legs to sprint for the middle of
the baseline, where she anticipated a shot down the half-court line.

	Makoto served, and Jen guessed right.  The ball almost flew down the
court, barely touching the corner of the half-court and service lines. as
the line judge made the arm signal to mark it good.  Jen made it to the
center mark just in time, managing to deliver a two-handed return that just
clipped the net and dropped in.  Makoto rushed up and managed to lob it
back, in a move that Jen would have been impressed by if she wasn't trying
to regroup and return.

	The redhead instantly assessed the shot and decided to volley.
Reaching up to the full extension that her tall frame allowed, she leaped
and brought the ball crashing back down in the far corner.  Makoto, who had
been brought almost to the net by her momentum in getting to the last ball,
had no chance.

	"Forty-fifteen."

***

	"YES!"  Eileen pumped her fist and whooped, cheering Jen on. "That's
how you do it, Jen, you can break her!"

	Sammy clapped as well.  "Way to go, ma'am!"

***

	Achika said nothing at all, but couldn't keep a broad smile from her
face.  She knew her teacher was too good to go down without a fight.  She
watched as Jen walked back to the baseline, panting only slightly.  The
redhead muttered something for herself, then set on the baseline and began
swaying back and forth again.

	Makoto served down the line again.  "OUT!"  It was too long.

	"Second service."

	Jen grinned and inched forward slightly.  She knew that Makoto would
have to temper her serve this time to avoid the double fault, and Jen
planned to capitalize on the opportunity.  Either Makoto delivered another
hard serve and risked missing and giving Jen the point, or she gave a weak
serve and let Jen pounce on it.

	Makoto bounced the ball nervously a few times, then tossed it up and
served.  Surprisingly, it was another hard one, skimming over the net. It
skimmed too close, though.

	"NET!" cried the net cord judge, who sat with her eye right along
the white cord.

	"Let, second service."    Makoto would serve again, since the ball
had landed in the service court despite grazing the net cord.  Under the
rules she would have another shot.  This shot was a good one.  Another ace. 
"Game to Tsurimi-san.  Tsurimi-san leads one game to love."

***

	Eileen leaned back in her seat and sighed.  "Dammit," she said
softly, while the others clapped politely.  There were one or two shouts of
"Tsurimi-san!" but not many.  No-one shouted for Sakachi-sensei.  "This
sucks," said Eileen.

	"It's only one game," pointed out Sammy.  "Jen's serving next,
she'll come back.  Just watch."

	The two looked on as Jen nodded for one of the ballgirls to give her
three balls.  Two she attached to holders on the waist of her skirt, The
third she kept in her hand and bounced several times on the grass before
moving into a set position.  Across the court, Makoto settled into a low
stance, ready to break in either direction.  Jen served.

	It was a mis-hit, but it worked, bouncing on the far end of the
service court and barely catching the sideline before careening off into the
stands.  "Fifteen-love."

	The schoolgirls in the audience loved this, of course, and cheered
wildly.  From Eileen's vantage point, it looked like Jen was embarrassed to
get an ace in such an ugly fashion, but she didn't seem ready to complain.
Plucking another ball from her waist, she began bouncing it as she walked to
the other end of the baseline and quickly served again.

	This serve, too, was lacking, and Makoto took definite glee in
delivering a cross-court smash.  Jen read it, though.  Thinking on her feet,
she ran to the ball and was already skidding to a stop as she hit the volley
just before the ball would have hit the ground.  Elsewhere, the
groundskeepers winced at the divot she had just made.  Jen didn't care,
though; she was already moving in towards the net in anticipation of
Makoto's return.

	Makoto misread the volley.  Anticipating a lob and moving to the
back of the court, she was caught by surprise when the bottom fell out of
the ball and it began to fall sharply.  She had to charge, picking it out of
the air in another volley that she wasn't able to do much with.

	Jen was in the center of the court and moving towards the net; a
perfect position.  Without hesitation, she smashed the ball down on the
other side of the net.  It bounced inside the lines, and then flew into the
seats, clearly unreturnable.

	"Thirty-love."

***

	This time Jen couldn't resist pumping her fist once.  Even this
early on, she knew that it was critical to establish a presence at the net. 
Being at the net was a very advantageous position, giving her a chance at
almost any shot Makoto might throw her way.  If she could keep up this
intensity for the rest of this game, the set would be tied at one game all. 
Considering that she had worried about being broken before the match began,
this was quite an improvement in her mental outlook.

	With a slight smile, she set and delivered another serve.  It was
perfectly placed, but by luck Makoto was moving in the right direction, and
delivered her own perfect shot right down the opposite sideline from Jen.

	"Thirty-fifteen."  Okay, maybe this wouldn't be so easy.

***

	Two sets and two tiebreakers later, well into a third, Achika was
feeling a bit woozy.  The doctors had cleared her, of course, but she wasn't
sure they had expected her to be out this long.  The single ball she held
trembled along with her hand as she knelt in front of the net, one knee on
the sideline nearest the chair umpire.  The ballboys and girls regularly
rotated their positions.

	After staring at her white knuckles, she looked up and to her right
to see Jen wiping her face with a towel.  The score was 7-6 (10-8), 7-6
(12-10), 8-7, with Jen winning the first set and Makoto winning the second. 
Makoto had just won her eight game of the set, and now Jen prepared to serve
with the knowledge that if Makoto broke her serve and won the set, the match
would be over.

	Jen looked tired, and Achika couldn't blame her.  The lights were
now on, and it was getting later and later.  In the back of her mind, Achika
reflected she'd be up rather late doing homework tonight.  It was worth it,
to have such a great vantage point from which to see such an exciting match,
though.

	Makoto wasn't looking much better.  The cool confidence she exuded
in the first set had worn down, and now she looked exhausted and frazzled. 
Her hair was in disarray, and she had spent the last two changeovers gulping
down water.  Wearily she bent down, ready to receive Jen's next serve.

	Jen served.  It was nowhere near the power she had on her first
serve of the afternoon, and Makoto immediately moved in.  What followed was
a long rally.  Both women scampered around the court, slight gasps or grunts
as the slightest evidence of the exertion they both were going through. 
Finally, it was Jen who cracked.  Too slow to reach the ball, she could only
swing and miss as it bounced past her.

	"Love-fifteen."

	Jen wiped away some sweat with the band on her wrist and leaned in,
wanting to hurry and not let Makoto take the momentum away from her.

	"FAULT!"

	"Second service."

	Jen blinked in slight disbelief; to her eyes the ball had been in.
For a moment she considered protesting, then shook her head slightly.

	The second serve was respectable, but again Makoto was on it. After
a short rally, it was love-thirty.

***

	"Come on Jennifer, don't let up now!"  Eileen was nearly hoarse, but
refused to cease cheering on her love.  Dammit, Jen had come too far to be
broken and lose now!  She could see that Jen's resolve was weakening.  Jen's
shoulders slumped just a bit, her head was down slightly.  Down love-thirty,
she clearly wasn't giving up, but she didn't seem ready to take hold of the
match, either.

	In the gathering twilight of the all but hushed stadium, Jen raised
her hand and tossed the ball in the air once more, bringing her racket
around and driving the ball over the net.

	"OUT!"

	The audience groaned.

	The second serve.  Jen readied herself once more, brought it around,
swung.

	"OUT!"

	"Love-forty."

	Another groan, and definite nervousness.  Jen had just painted
herself into a triple match point for Makoto.  If Makoto could win one of
the next three points, she would have the victory.

	"Slow down, Jennifer, just slow down," whispered Eileen.  It was
unlikely that she had been heard, but Jen took a moment to pause anyway,
asking for a towel and regrouping her thoughts.

***

	Jen sighed; this was so tiring.  If she was transformed, it would be
ridiculously easy to keep up the level of intensity required. Of course, it
would be against the rules, so she kept wiping her brow and trying to think
of what to do next.

	Three break points.  Three match points.  She had to win these next
three points, period.  Three aces would be nice, even one to start the ball
rolling.  She closed her eyes tightly, willing herself for one final push. 
"I can do this," she said in barely a whisper, "I can do this.  I have
enough for one hard serve."

	She handed the towel to the waiting ballgirl and nodded.  The girl
dashed back to her position as Jen once more took to the baseline, bounced
the ball twice, and served the hardest ball of the match.

	"Fifteen-forty," intoned the umpire.  On the other side of the net,
Makoto simply stood and stared at the spot the ball had bounced as the crowd
cheered loudly.  Though the shadow from her visor made it a bit hard to see,
some would swear there was the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

	Jen, for her part, saw no reason to celebrate.  She still had two
match points to fight off.  She waited a moment for the applause to settle
down, then went for it again.  This time Makoto attempted a swing, but the
ball flew off to the side, landing in the first row of seats.

	"Thirty-forty."

	Jen chanced a slight grin up to where she knew Eileen was sitting
and immediately walked to her spot on the baseline.  "One more point," she
whispered, "one more point to deuce." Then she simply had to win two points
in a row to get the game and put the set back to an even eight-all.  She
reared back and served.

***

	Achika watched as the ball flew.  It looked to be true, but at the
last moment before crossing the net it seemed to droop and was caught on the
white tape.  She blinked, then started to move.  It was on her side of the
net.  As she ran, it caught up with her.  The concussion she had suffered
two days before, the treatment for it, and now the hours of work on the
court.  All of it hit her in one fell swoop, exactly six steps into her
sprint across the court to pick up the ball.

	There was no grace or elegance to her fall, just an uncontrolled
tumble to the grass, rolling twice before coming to a full stop.

	To the chair umpire's credit, the right thing was done.  After a
single, chilling moment where no-one moved or said a word, the voice rang
out clearly and calmly.  "Play is suspended.  Medics to the court
immediately, please."

	Jen was the first to arrive at Achika's side, dropping to one knee
and taking meticulous care not to move her, in accordance with the rules of
first aid.  Pulse was okay, breathing a bit shallow.  Her first guess was
that she wouldn't die, at least.  She stood and picked up her racquet as the
uniformed medics arrived on the scene, not wanting to interfere in their
work.  She felt rather than heard Makoto come beside her, looking down at
Achika.

	"Is she all right?" asked Makoto.  It was the first thing she had
said to Jen all afternoon.

	"I hope so," said Jen.  She sighed and then, knowing that there was
nothing more she could do here, went to gather her bags.  It would be up to
the tournament director to say if play should continue, and he was being
summoned even as a stretcher was brought out for the fallen girl.

***

Nagano-2 General Hospital
Four hours later

	Dr. Eri Shibata, assistant xenozoologist at the Royal Institute for
the Study of Sentient Life, rushed into the emergency room still wearing her
lab coat.  Her first stop was the admittance desk.  "Yes, my daughter was
brought here a few minutes ago, they called me . . . my name's Shibata, Eri
Shibata, her mother?"

	The desk receptionist looked up at Eri's harried face, framed with
short, black hair, then looked down at her computer and went to work.  "Ah
yes, Shibata-sensei, your daughter Achika?" The elder Shibata nodded. "She
was admitted about half an hour ago.  They're still keeping a close eye on
her, but I think they'll let you visit for five minutes.  I'll check with
the doctors."

	"Thank you," said Eri shortly.  As was her habit, she immediately
began to pace.  Her husband and daughter teased her about it mercilessly,
but it was something she always did when she either had a serious problem or
serious worrying to do.  In this case, it was the latter.

	Eri Shibata was in many ways the model Japanese woman of the
thirty-first century.  She applied for admission to the University of
Crystal Tokyo in her senior year of high school, and was accepted.  A
mediocre student who nonetheless aspired to do medicine, and graduated near
the bottom of her class.  Went on to medical school, meeting her future
husband Tadasuke and marrying along the way.

	3027 had brought her three gifts: her doctorate in xenobiological
studies with a specialization in xenozoology, marriage to her husband
Tadasuke, and the birth of her daughter Achika ten months later, on the
twelvth of October.  She pursued all three with great vigor, taking her new
family with her on a survey ship to catalogue the native fauna of a
prospective colony world.

	Achika had thus spent the first three years of her life in space,
something Eri felt proud of.  For when the time came in 3035 to leave Earth
forever, Achika was in a fundamental sense already used to living on bases
and starships.

	Her marriage to Tadasuke hadn't been perfect, but marriages never
were.  They'd had their share of arguments and fallings out, but they had
never separated.  Tadasuke was the model Japanese husband, with a part-time
job as groundskeeper at the University of Hinansho, spending the rest of his
time at home, keeping things tidy and pursuing his own private hobby of
model plane building.  Like most other men, he deferred to Eri in decisions
involving the family or domestic life, taking the role of enforcing the
rules set for Achika as she grew into a young woman.  There was no friction
in this; it was simply the way things were.  The fact that a thousand years
ago things were often directly opposite rarely occurred to most people.  Why
should it, when most people barely knew of it?

	Eri continued to pace, worrying about everything that could have
happened.  She couldn't bear to watch the television screens in the waiting
room, where the news was replaying her daughter's fall.  First the
concussion, now this, and to think that she had worried Achika would die
from drowning all these years.  The girl had been a swimmer from her early
days, it seemed sure that if there was an accident it would be there.  It
was a cruel blow for it to come during what Eri had seen until now as just a
leisure occupation for her daughter.

	Just when she thought she could take it no longer, the door to the
examination rooms opened.  "Shibata-sensei?"

	Eri's head snapped around immediately.  "Yes?"

	"You can see your daughter now."

***

A-10 Expressway

	It was a subdued car ride home.  Eileen was at the wheel of her red
sports car, hugging the turns as Jen slouched in the passenger seat.  The
redhead was depressed.  

	First was the loss.  After Achika had been taken away, play resumed. 
Jen was too rattled by the disruption, though.  Right after resumption, she
immediately hit the ball into the net.  As disappointing an end to the
tournament as it was, she had lost with that one mis-hit.

	What followed was a blur, mostly.  The one line from the chair
umpire stuck in her mind, of course.  "Six-seven, seven-six, nine-seven,"
the umpire had said.  Dimly she remembered congratulating Makoto, who seemed
similarly stunned at the anticlimactic finale to their match.  Then another
blur, punctuated with a phone call to the hospital.

	Achika was in stable condition, they said.  Jen had rushed to shower
and change, Eileen ready to take her there.  Then, en route, another phone
call.  The hospital again: Achika had awakened, and had asked for Jen first,
then Yusuke.  Eri Shibata, Achika's mother, had apparently been furious at
this, and had called to inform Jen that it would be best if she stayed away
for a day or so.

	The loss had been bad enough.  Not being able to look after the
health of her student was worse.  Now Jen was silent as Eileen steered the
car back home.  Eileen finally spoke.  "Need anything before we go home?"

	"No."

	"Okay," said Eileen easily, stopping at a red light.  "Anything I
can do for you?" she asked.

	Jen thought on that a moment.  "Um, I guess I could use a massage,"
she said tentatively.

	"Cool, I'll get the stuff ready when we get in."  Massages had
always been one of Eileen's specialties, and she had only improved in the
years since that first, pivotal back massage she had given Jen in their dorm
room.

	Eileen immediately went through a mental checklist.  The oils should
be in good supply; she'd just gotten some a week or so ago, and unless Jen
had done something abnormal they should still be on the shelf in the closet.

***

72 Akihabara Drive

	Once home, Jen went to her study first, determined that she should
be ready for classes the next day.  Eileen trotted upstairs, digging around
and frowning as she looked at the shelves.  "Dammit, where the hell did I
put them?" Frowning, she stood on her tiptoes and began moving boxes around. 
"Really should move this stuff downstairs . . . okay, gotcha!" Triumphantly
she plucked out a half-filled glass jar of a pale yellow liquid.  "Hope it
didn't spill, or Jen'll kill me." She walked out to the bedroom, where Jen
already lay on her back, undressed.

	Eileen took one look at the taut expression on Jen's face and
decided that this massage would be entirely for relaxation.  Her lover
didn't look to be in the mood for anything sexual.  Eileen hopped up on the
bed and knelt, pouring a liberal amount of oil on her hands and then
beginning to rub Jen's back.  The tiny sighs and groans that came from Jen
told Eileen that she was doing the right job.  The brunette winced at how
tight the muscles were, though.  Jen had really worked up a lot of tension,
and Eileen's expert fingers were challenged in relieving it.

	"So," said Eileen finally, "the great Tsurimi advances."

	"She'll win the tournament.  I thought the other side of the
bracket was the strongest, but after seeing her in action . . . I think
they'll be very hard pressed to win.  Another victory for Tsurimi-san, and
then she'll probably go to the Moon."

	"Are you bitter?"  Eileen got straight to the point.

	"Yes."  To anyone else, Jen might have tried to lie, but there was
no point with Eileen.  She knew her lover too well, and she didn't like
lying to her anyway.  "I could have won.  I *should* have won, just too many
damn mistakes!" Eileen said nothing, just continued trying to work out the
kinks. She left the shoulders and began to attack her lower back.  "And the
last point . . . Achika's falling ill got to me, Eileen, it really did. 
She's a very good student."

	A knowing nod.  "So you think she's one of those after all?"

	Jen closed her eyes and thought about it.  'One of those' was a
phenomenon they were acquainted with: high school students with crushes on
Jen.  They varied in severity, ranging from simple idol worship or looking
to Jen as a role model, which was acceptable, or pursuing romantic or
physical relations.  Those were generally discouraged.  She had been fairly
certain that Achika wasn't one of those.  Her boyfriend had seemed to be
enough evidence that if anything, Achika would simply look to Jen as a
teacher and role model, which was normal.  If this changed, however . . .
"Yes, I'd say so."

	Eileen nodded again and let her hands trace further down Jen's body,
bypassing the buttocks and stopping at her thighs.  The powerful muscles
there was also tense.  "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too.  Her
boyfriend's gonna complicate things too, you know.  If he starts thinking
that he has to compete with you for her attention . . . Jen, I think you've
going to have to give her a wide berth."

	Jen laughed bitterly.  It wasn't a sound that suited her, and
Eileen frowned in response.  "Eri Shibata has taken care of that for
me," she said.  "That's a clear message: 'stay away from my child, or
else.'"

	"But you still have to teach her," pointed out Eileen.

	"And that'll be *all* she lets me do.  I can forget about any sort
of tutoring.  Dammit, she was one of my better students!"

	"Then I guess she'll have to keep it up without your extra help,"
Eileen replied.  She moved to Jen's calves, and then her feet, all in
silence.  Finally, she stood, wiggling her toes to regain circulation.
"Feel better?"

	Jen rolled over and smiled.  "Physically, yes, thanks."  The smile
faded.  "But still . . . ."

	"Hm."  Eileen walked to Jen's dresser and pulled out a pair of boxer
shorts and oversized t-shirt: Jen's preferred sleepwear.  She tossed them to
Jen and then worked on changing herself.  "Tell you what, the network's
probably going to run a story on her, and if you want I can call dibs on it
myself."

	Jen sat up and pulled the pink shirt over her head.  "No, that's
okay." She stood to pull on the shorts.  "I can wait for a bit."

	"Sure?"  Jen nodded.  "Allrighty then."  Eileen hopped into bed, Jen
crawling in at her side.  "Oh, by the way Jen . . . I don't think I said it
earlier, but you did a great job out there today."

	Jen was already asleep.

***

105 Akihabara Drive

	Eri Shibata was not.  She lay in her own bed, staring up at the
darkened ceiling as her husband Tadasuke sat next to her, watching the
news.  "What do I tell Yusuke-san?" she asked.  "What *can* I tell him?"

	"Who says we have to tell him anything?" replied Tadasuke, a hint of
boredom in his voice.  "I really think you're making too big a deal out of
this, Eri; just because Achika asked for Sakachi-sensei before him doesn't
mean she's a . . . well, anyway, it's just too early to jump to
conclusions."

	What Tadasuke didn't say was that he thought Eri was being paranoid
in this case.  What he really thought was the case was his wife, jealous at
not being at the forefront of Achika's mind, was making sure she would be
the primary person in Achika's life from here on out. Silly, in his opinion,
to be so possessive and, well, motherly, but she was the woman of the house. 
He'd keep his silence on this matter.

	"Maybe, maybe not.  I just wish I'd kept a closer eye on her.  Here
I am thinking about what she and Yusuke-san will do after graduation, and
now I have to worry-"

	"-about what she and Yusuke-san will do after graduation.  Honey,
one word isn't going to mean the end of what those two have.  He's been here
for dinner plenty of times, taken her out on dates, and we both agree he's a
good man for her, right?"

	"Right."

	"So why's she going to dump him for a teacher she knows she can't
have, assuming she even has those leanings, which we just *don't know!*
Don't you think she's smarter than that?"

	If there was one thing Eri was proud of in her daughter, aside from
her prowess in soccer, it was her brains.  Achika was definitely bright, and
Eri gave her a great deal of responsibility as a result. Thus, Tadasuke's
remark definitely hit home.  Eri was silent for a long moment, contemplating
what had been said.  "So you think I should let her go on this?"

	"I think that she's young, and we should give her the same leeway
we've been giving her.  She'll make the right choice for her, and we'll
support it."

	"Of course!" agreed Eri, slightly embarrassed at her husband taking
the lead in this issue.

	"So, the doctors won't let her go home tomorrow?"

	"No," Eri replied, thankful for the change of subject.  "They say
that the combination of the concussion a few days ago and her collapse
tonight makes them reluctant to let her go again.  They want to make sure it
doesn't happen again."

	Tadasuke nodded to himself.  "Makes sense.  I guess we can visit her
tomorrow?"

	"Yes, I'm taking the morning off from the Institute."  She sighed.
"Poor Achika.  She was so looking forward to getting back to the swing of
things after the fall, too."

	"Mmmm," agreed her husband.  "Soccer practice starts soon, we'll
have to make sure she stays healthy for that.  It would crush her if she had
to sit on the sidelines."

	"Definitely," replied Eri.  She closed her eyes, musing on all that
had been said.  She didn't muse upon the fate of the other victim of that
accident days before, Takeshi Ashida, whose name she didn't even know.  Then
again, pretty much no-one else was.

***

	Takeshi Ashida was at home, doing homework and paying no attention
at all to tennis.  All sports bored him, and given the choice he'd much
rather spend time reading than playing or even watching an athletic
competition.  There was one exception, but that exception didn't apply
today.  Now, he massaged his head while scribbling down the intricate,
complex steps of integration by parts.  He didn't react at all when his
sister, aged twelve, tapped his shoulder.  She eventually had to resort to
shaking him slightly.  "Yes, Yuki-chan?"

	Yuki looked cross.  "Dad's been calling for you for close to five
minutes!" she said with exasperation.  "Weren't you listening?"

	"No," replied Takeshi, and it was true.  When doing schoolwork, he
tended to shut out the outside world.  "What does he want?" he asked,
putting down his pencil and stretching out his arms, fingers, and toes.

	"He says it's about the soccer team."

	Takeshi's eyes immediately narrowed.  For most people it was an
action that showed only slight annoyance, but for him it was annoyance that
surpassed almost all other annoyances.  "I'll be right there," he said
tightly.  Yuki, knowing Takeshi's look all too well, simply nodded and
almost ran for her bedroom, not wanting to be a party to what would follow.

	Angrily, Takeshi trotted down the stairs.  Once again, his father
was going to try to get him on the school soccer team.  Nevermind that he
had expressed his disinterest in the prospect many, many times.  In the eyes
of Hakuseki Ashida, there was no such thing as not playing a sport. You
simply did it for the honor of the Ashida name.

	Many times Takeshi had wished he could just ram it home to his
father that it had been decades ago when old Great-Grandfather Zeshin had
led the Japan National team to victory in the World Cup.  That one brief
shining moment in family history, when underdog Japan had bested the
European powerhouse and won the title.  Takeshi knew the story very well. 
It had been repeated to him until he was sick to his stomach about it.  Damn
Zenshin Ashida, and damn Hakuseki Ashida for thinking that Takeshi could be
another one.

	He paused at the door to his father's home office.  Hakuseki was
talking on the phone to someone, and so he would wait and stew.  "Yeah, yeah
. . . no, I don't give a damn what she says, I said *sell* the Goddamn
stuff!  Yes, by all means, tell her I said that, and you can quote me! 
Goro, I'm tired of her pulling all this shit, really I am.  She calls me,
leaves messages, tells me conflicting information, and then the shit comes
down on *me* because I can't do the *impossible*! YES, DAMMIT, NOW DO IT! 
Jesus, think you have a hearing problem . . . ."

	Out of habit, Takeshi blanked out the tirade.  His father wasn't
always like this.  He could remember when Hakuseki Ashida had been a good,
kind father, always willing to help with homework, never exerting too much
pressure.  Halcyon days.

	Then Mother had died in the 3041 invasion of Hinansho, a casualty
when one of the alien Champions had massacred the techs in the underground
planetary defense command complex.  That bloody day in Valhalla, Ensign
Chiaki Ashida had been gunned down at her console, without so much as a
chance to look at her executioner.

	The two years since had been hell for the three remaining Ashida.
Hakuseki, accustomed to puttering around the home and writing, was suddenly
thrust into being a parent for two children and providing for them.  He got
a bit lucky; he had earned a degree in economics back on Earth, and had
dabbled with trading.  Now he was a full-fledged stock trader on Hinansho's
only exchange.

	It was an interesting occupation, Takeshi had to admit.  Stock
trading in the thirty-first century bore close resemblance to the nineteenth
and twentieth, with a great deal of shouting, gesticulating, and calling out
orders on the trading floor of the Nagano-2 Commerce Building.  The catch
was that the other markets were far out, a good half hour's communication
lag away. Developments could hit the market at odd times.  That was why
Hakuseki was on the phone now.  A particular stock had taken a hard hit on
another colony, and Hakuseki was adamant that when the market opened the
next morning he be the first to sell.  His boss thought otherwise, though. 
A bull to the core, she was firmly against selling, confident that prices
would eventually bounce back up.

	He had heard the arguments between him and his boss many times. Too
many times, perhaps.  Having to listen to it again annoyed the hell out of
him, especially when he could be doing the homework he needed to escape from
this hellhole.

	Hakuseki finally hung up the phone, but he wasn't done yet.  He
began shuffling papers, muttering curses to himself as he occasionally found
one he liked and added it to a small stack on the corner of his desk.  After
a full two minutes of this, one hundred and twenty three seconds of which
Takeshi counted every one, Hakuseki finally looked up and noticed his son. 
"Ah, there you are," he said gruffly.  "Come in, come in, you're not my
secretary or something.  Come in, dammit!"

	Takeshi entered the room, not relaxing a bit.  In fact, the sullen
expression on his face only deepened as he entered further into the lion's
den.

	"Takeshi, my boy, have you given thought to trying out for the
Titans?" asked Hakuseki easily, leaning back in his leather upholstered
chair.  A ludicrous affair; leather was terribly out of fashion in the
thirty-first century despite the wide availability of it.

	The Titans were one of Nagano-2's semiprofessional soccer teams.
There were about a dozen scattered over the northern continent of Hinansho,
playing in a league to determine who could go to the Royal Cup on the Moon. 
Occasionally scouts would come to Hinansho to watch Hinansho League games,
interested in picking up possible recruits for the Royal Premier League
teams, or even the National Team.  That, and that alone, was why Hakuseki
wanted Takeshi to play: to have a shot at assuming his great-grandfather's
mantle.  This time, though, the plea had been made too many times.

	"Father, I've told you before that I'm not going to do this!"

	"Nonsense, you'll do as you're told."

	Takeshi immediately rankled at this.  "I'm *seventeen*, Father, you
can't simply tell me what to do!"

	"I am your *father*!"

	"And this isn't the damned twentieth century, for you to be the high
and mighty patriarch lording it over us all!" A pause, and then a verbal
barb that hurt, really hurt.  "I'd do it if Mother told me, but you're not
half of what she was."

	Hakuseki froze, unable to move.  The anger that consumed him was
such that he felt capable of doing anything to his son, and he didn't want
to do anything too hasty.

	"You see, Father," Takeshi continued as he paced about the room,
"ever since Mother died you've been acting like it's 1960, and men are
supposed to do everything.  *Look* at you!  Using Yuki as some sort of
courier-- I bet you didn't even ask how her day was, did you?" Hakuseki
remained silent.  "Yeah, that's what I thought.  She's just a tool for you. 
Do you know that she's failing math?  And did you care?  No, you just signed
her report card without even *reading* it, I bet!  And then you let your
damn *secretary* go to parent-teacher conferences.  If that isn't the HEIGHT
of arrogance, I don't know what IS!" He was shouting now, his cool reserve
gone.  He didn't notice Hakuseki dangerously rising to his feet.  "And
*you*, you want me to join some damned soccer club, like you haven't
listened to me the last dozen times I said no!  Well, for the last time, I'm
telling you.  I am NOT Zeshin, I never WAS Zeshin, I never WILL BE Zeshin! 
Deal with it, Dad, or else I'm moving out and-"

	The slap across the face came as a sharp, certain wakeup call for
Takeshi.  So unprepared was he that even with his considerable athletic bulk
he still ended up halfway across the room, catching himself against a couch. 
Instinctively he ran a hand over the spot on his cheek where he had been
slapped.  A growing warmth there; he doubted it would leave a bruise, but it
would certainly be red and sore for awhile.

	As a side effect, it allowed him to think a bit.  Launching this
tirade against his father was stupid, he could see that now.  It was so
clear . . . how had he allowed himself to become so emotional?  That would
never work with Hakuseki; since Chiaki's death, it had become impossible for
anyone to use emotion to reach him.  Worse, he had roused his father to the
point of violence.  It wasn't the first time this had happened, of course,
but it was yet another time.  Some day, his father's streak of violence
would be unsatisfied with him, and could turn to Yuki.

	On that day, there was little doubt in Takeshi's mind that
Hakuseki would die.

	It was best to delay that day as long as possible, then, delay it
until Yuki was safely away at college, preferably at the Royal University on
the moon.  Anywhere, as long as it was away from here.  That was why he
worked so hard, studied so long, put forth all his effort into school at the
expense of a social life, of an athletic career, of anything outside
academics.  If he could get the highest paying job he could, it would be
enough to get Yuki into the Royal University, and then he would be able to
bear living with his intolerable father.

	Besides, if ever they needed a new senshi . . . but no, that was too
farfetched for even him to conceive.  A male senshi was about as likely as
Earth swearing fealty to Serenity II.

	So, Takeshi picked himself up, bit his lip so hard blood began to
ooze out, and bowed to his father as low as he could.  "I apologize,
father."  Apologies, indeed.

***

Ai Furikato Senior High School
10 June 3043

	"That's why there are three methods to call for a review of a
colonial governor's power." Jen paused for a moment and leaned against the
chalkboard.  Her jacket was draped over her chair; getting chalk on her
white blouse wasn't a major concern.  "To review, just what are those three
methods?" She looked around the classroom, scanning the faces and raised
hands, then chose one.  "Hisa-san?"

	The blonde girl stood.  "Sakachi-sensei, the first way is for the
planetary Parliament to advise review by a two-thirds majority, with a
simple majority of the governor's cabinet consenting.  The second is if a
petition signed by a two-thirds majority of the planet's population is sent
to Her Majesty.  The third is if the senshi on the planet decides to do so
herself." She finished with a smile of satisfaction, but it faded when Jen
shook her head.

	"Almost, Hisa-san, but not quite."  Jen walked the length of the
front of the room, hands clasped behind her back.  "While you're right that
a senshi can do it herself, she, well I wouldn't have to wait for a review. 
Senshi have the right to declare a governor unsuitable for her task at any
time, given proper reason." Jen took in Hisa's crestfallen expression and
decided to relent a bit.  "You were exactly right about the first two,
though.  Can anyone name the third?"

	Silence for a moment, then a hand was finally raised.  Jen's mouth
tightened ever so slightly when she saw who it is, but she then forced
herself to brighten.  "Yes, Achika-san?"

	"A physician appointed by Her Majesty is allowed to make such a
recommendation, Sakachi-sensei!"

	Achika's voice was almost pleading, and it pained Jen to hear it. It
wasn't the first time she'd been placed in the position of rebuffing the
feelings of one of her students, and wouldn't be the last.  So why was it so
difficult?

	Despite herself, Jen found a smile on her face.  "Very good,
Achika-san." She turned back to the board and began erasing part of what had
been written.  "The last two methods have never been used in practice, and
the first was used only once.  This, by the way, validates the system used
to select governors for Her Majesty's colonies."

	"Sakachi-sensei?"

	Jen turned around to face Achika once more.  "Yes, Achika-san?"

	"If the governor is removed, how is the replacement chosen?"

	"The lieutenant governor takes on the role of governor pro tempore
until a new governor is appointed by Her Majesty."

	Achika thought on this.  "So there's no vote held by the colonists?"

	Jen blinked.  "No, of course not.  I'm surprised, Achika-san, you
should know there would be no democratic process." Jen couldn't keep the
slight disdain for democracy out of her voice; after all, it had been a
collection of democracies that had squabbled and argued for the centuries
since the Formation Wars, with only the monarchy of Serenity I staying out
of it.  Then those same democracies, unsatisfied with Serenity I's position,
had seen fit to try and topple her.  Dr. Jennifer Sakachi was no fan of the
democratic process, and she hadn't expected Achika to be one either.

	"I know, Sakachi-sensei, but I was curious.  Colonists can vote for
the Parliament, after all."

	"Parliament is an odd bird, Achika-san."  Jen hopped up on her desk,
careful that her legs faced an outside wall so that her students wouldn't
get a view.  "Technically, they're elected.  In practice, voter turnout is
incredibly low.  Most people just assume that they have no vote, and by
custom, it turns out that they don't.

	"When the colonization boom took off after the 3035 war, the
decision was made by the planet senshi to allow some sort of limited
self-rule.  You can probably guess the reason for that; transmission lag
between the colonies and the Moon were too high for the throne to dictate
everything.  So, the system of parliaments and governors was set up.  The
planet senshi, however, realizing the dangers of allowing democracy, made
sure the institution of parliaments wasn't publicized. When the first
elections were held, almost no-one knew about them, and almost all the seats
were won unopposed.

	"In theory, Achika-chan, but only in theory, we in Nagano-2 elect
our legislature.  In practice, its members are voted in by a special
committee back on the Moon, to ensure only the most qualified serve in their
positions." Those in the class who were paying attention nodded; they had
been taught almost from birth that the strength of their monarchy lay in its
inability to be swayed by mob rule.  This only made perfect sense to them. 
"Any other questions?" asked Jen finally.  Hearing none, she proceeded with
the lecture.

	After class, Jen noted that Achika stood for a long moment looking
at her, ignoring the flow of students around her as they moved to their next
class.  Jen was about to put down her briefcase when Achika suddenly turned
and almost fled from the room.  Jen's only reply to this was a slight shrug,
as she continued putting her papers into the case.  Just one more history
class to teach, and then she would go over to the university and see if any
students wanted to talk to her there.

	"Sakachi-sensei?"

	The redhead looked up into the face of Takeshi.  "Yes, Takeshi-kun?"

	"I'd like to have a word with you."

	"About what?"

	"Enlistment."

***

Planetary Defense Headquarters
Some hours later

	Takeshi hesitated just a moment outside the glass double doors. The
building looked like almost any other building in downtown Nagano-2, and he
would easily have mistaken it for just another office tower if it weren't
for the large sign over the door.

	"Hinansho Squadron Command Building," read Takeshi.  In the event of
war, any Royal Star Navy ships in the Hinansho sector of space would be
declared part of the Hinansho Squadron, with Sailor Orion commanding.  Most
people called the building Planetary Defense Headquarters, as that was its
normal role.

	He took another breath and looked around.  Sidewalk and street
traffic was normal for a weeknight, but he couldn't shake the idea that all
passers-by had their eyes on him.  For a moment he considered walking away,
but then the moment passed.  Gulping, he pulled open the door and walked
inside.

	The reception desk was empty, but the note Jen had given him had
said it would be.  He turned to the right, then down a hall. He only made it
a few paces before reaching a closed door and a female officer.  Her red
turtleneck and rank insignia marked her as military police, and her face
marked her as completely unsurprised--and dispassionate--at seeing him, a
civilian, trying to gain admittance to the military base at night.  "Good
evening," she said coolly as he stopped just outside arm's length from her. 
"State your business, please?"

	Takeshi glanced at her face, then down at the laser she had
holstered at her waist, then back at her face.  Against his will, he
shuddered slightly.  With a trembling hand, he removed the small card from
his pocket and gave it to the MP.  She looked it over, and her eyes showed a
flicker of surprise. Takeshi hadn't looked at it; he had been told by Jen
not to look at it, and once again he found himself wondering what it said.

	Whatever it was seemed to meet with the MP's approval.  She pulled
out her communicator and tapped two keys in quick succession.  "Yes, this is
sentry zero-four.  I have an Ashida down here for . . . yes . . . yes, fits
that description.  I'll send him up immediately.  Thank you." She turned off
the communicator with a click and slid it back into her pocket.  "Just this
way through the doors. There's an elevator to your left, go to the fifth
floor, and you'll find someone there waiting for you."

	"Thank you," said Takeshi, unsure whether to bow or salute.  He
decided on a quick bow, then proceeded through the door.  A few moments
later he was startled when the elevator doors opened up on the fifth floor,
revealing two men in the black jumpsuits of the Royal Star Navy, and the
forest green turtlenecks of the Royal Marine Corps.

	"Just this way, please."

	The path that the Marines took twisted and turned through the
hallways, until even Takeshi's sense of direction was completely turned
around.  He hadn't realized the building was so large.  It came as a
complete surprise when he was finally shown through a set of doors and
entered the Command Room.  There was no label calling it such, but he
automatically appended the name, complete with capital letters, for its very
fiber oozed authority and control.

	He had seen the room many times on television, and most recently in
the movie that had recently been released on the exploits of Sailors Orion
and America in the 3041 invasion.  Most painfully, he remembered that it was
in a room much like this that his mother had died.  He forced himself to
look around at the computers, arrayed haphazardly, as opposed to the nice
neat rows that such places usually had.  The front wall was taken up with
status screens, as was normal, but the back wall was glass, affording a view
of Nagano-2 and the surrounding area that was more appropriate for an office
building than a military command center.

	To his chagrin, almost all activity ceased as he walked in. Nearly
two dozen people ceased their work and chatter, turning to look at the
civilian in their midst.  One person didn't: a woman in the uniform of a
captain, who sat at a desk next to the window wall, the lights of the room
glinting off the lenses of her glasses.  She continued to be engrossed in
whatever was on her computer terminal, not even looking up.

	The two Marines escorted him directly to her, and he stood
uncertainly for a moment.  Then, with glacial slowness, she raised her gaze
up to the teenager.  "Hello, Takeshi-kun."

	"Sakachi-sensei?"

	The woman smiled slightly and leaned back in her chair.  "Usually I
go by Captain Sakachi around here, or si . . . ma'am.  Anyway, you said you
wanted to talk to a recruitment officer, and I decided that I would be just
as valid." Takeshi blinked.  "I suppose the normal officer for your district
will be mad that I've snatched one out from under him." The mirth vanished
from her eyes.  "But then again, you haven't decided that you're going to do
it."

	"I think I should," he said simply.

	"Why?"

	"Because I want to do my part for Her Majesty.  I want to be where
the action is, and-"

	"You want to get off this frigid mudball?"

	"No!" protested Takeshi, "of course not!  I love living here, I
wouldn't want to live anywhere else if everything else was equal."

	Jen retained her neutral expression.  "So, what's not equal?"  She
frowned for just an instant.  "You can sit," she added, gesturing to a chair
that had seemed to appear out of nowhere.  Takeshi gratefully took it.

	"Well . . . it's where we are."  He leaned forward.  "Hinansho is
out here on the edge of colonized space.  There are other surveyed systems
further out.  One of them's going to be inhabited next year, but until then
we're the frontier."

	"That's only relatively speaking, you know," replied Jen.
"Panwakusei is nearly three thousand light years from Sol, I'm sure you
don't want to be there."

	Panwakusei, literally translated as 'Bread Planet,' was the Moon
Kingdom's breadbasket.  Eighty percent of the foodstuffs carried on
Serenity's military and merchant vessels were of Panwakusei origin, and
special parts of the land mass were devoted to food for the Royal table.

	Strictly speaking, it was another sign of the Moon Kingdom's wealth. 
No-one needed to farm such huge tracts of land, even considering the
ecologically friendly methods perfected over a thousand years of
agriculture.  There was a taste difference between food grown on land and
the hydroponics farms that sustained two-thirds of Terra's population.  That
was one of the many boons of the recent colonization boom, and now that Jen
thought about it, it was probably one of the many reasons for the matching
zeal for space travel by the Terrans.

	"No, Panwakusei isn't for me.  No planet is for me, I think.  I want
to be in space, away from everyone-" He stopped suddenly, realizing that he
had perhaps told too much.

	"Away from everyone," repeated Jen, adjusting her glasses.  She had
been reading through her files on Takeshi before he had appeared, and had
been unable to find anything that would indicate he had something to run
away from.  True, his mother had died last year.  Died under her command, no
less, but the psych reports said that he had recovered nicely for all that. 
Unlike his father, who apparently had taken the loss hard.  "I hope you're
not using the RSN to escape."

	"Not at all, Sakachi-sen . . . Captain."

	Jen let another slight smile cross her face.  "Sakachi-sensei is
just fine.  Don't call me Captain unless you're *really* serious." She sat
forward slightly.  "And I really don't think you're all that serious. Aside
from your mother, your family has no history of military service, and your
test scores look like like you'd do better in officer school than enlisting
in the Navy.  More to the point, your intention to enlist in the Marines is
particularly disturbing.  I don't doubt your physical prowess, but I can
tell you that the Marine program is very rigorous.  Nearly three-fourths of
those who try flunk out."

	"And those who stick around are the best-trained fighting force in
the galaxy," added Takeshi softly.

	Jen nodded, and glanced at the two Marines in their green
turtlenecks.  They stood waiting at the door, casually engaged in
conversation.  "They are, at that.  We didn't have any on Pleiades, you
know."

	Takeshi perked up at the mention of Jen's first ship.  She rarely
talked about such things in the classroom, and most of what students knew
came from the published official history--which oddly enough had not been
written by the historian Sakachi.  The official history wasn't geared for
general consumption, and so it was easy to make excuses for not reading it
closely.

	Jen continued in a matter-of-fact voice, "Pleiades was never meant
for any real military purpose.  We didn't have any weapons worth speaking
of, and the ship was so small that there wasn't enough room for the usual
detachment of Marines.

	"Actually," and here she seemed to giggle softly, "I'd never
commanded Marines until I came to Hinansho, and I still haven't had occasion
to do so.  I always seem to call on the military police first . . . anyway,
you're right, the Marines are the cream of the crop.  But they're also the
ones who go through the worst modern combat has to offer. I know it can be
hard for you to realize in peacetime, but you'll stand a very good chance of
being injured or dying, higher than in almost any other occupation."

	She sighed and leaned back.  "I read that your great-grandfather
played soccer, perhaps you might-"

	"No!"  It was out of his mouth before he realized it, and the same
brashness kept him from realizing his temerity at interrupting his teacher. 
"I do *not* want to play soccer!"

	"Okay," said Jen simply, letting it drop.  "To be honest,
Takeshi-kun, your talents would be wasted in the Marines.  I think the
regular Navy would be good for you.  Intelligence, for example, or even
command school."

	"Men never get command of starships, though," he said wistfully.
There was no answer Jen could give to that, and she knew it.  Naval
policy for years had been that women were captains, and more specifically
senshi were the captains of military vessels.  It wasn't written in stone,
but it was hard to overlook that no man had ever been captain of a ship
capable of interstellar distances.  Very few men even commanded the small
ships that traveled around the Sol system.

	"You'd make a fine first officer," was all Jen could say.  And he
would.

	"I don't *want* to be a first officer, Sakachi-sensei.  I want to be
a senshi."

	"Mmm."  It took all of four seconds for what he had said to register
to both of them.  Jen blinked in absolute puzzlement, while Takeshi buried
his burning face in his hands.  "But, " said Jen at last, "but, that's not
an option.  If you want to go to Luna, then I'd be glad to write a letter of
recommendation.  If you want to join the Marines . . . I'm sorry,
Takeshi-kun, but I really don't think that would be right for you." The look
on his face as he gazed up at her was almost more than she could take.  "Of
course, you'll want to think over this for a few days.  You know my home
number, feel free to call when you've made a decision."

	Takeshi nodded mutely and stood.  "I guess I'll be seeing you, then. 
Thanks." With a sigh, he bowed to his teacher and left, flanked by the two
Marines at the door.

	Drumming her fingers on the desk for a moment, Jen looked at the
doors to the command room as they closed.  Takeshi troubled her; he should
know that he wasn't Marine material, yet he seemed dangerously insistent on
it.  There had to be some reason for it, but based on the psychological
reports she had available, she couldn't see any.

	Of course, she was a sailor senshi.  If she liked, she had the
authority to delve into reports that wouldn't ordinarily be available to an
ordinary schoolteacher.  The ethics would be debatable, but she could do it. 
She doubted she would go ahead, however.  It would be too intrusive, and
besides, there were some times when you had to let a person make mistakes
for themselves.  Besides, perhaps it was her mistake.  Perhaps he really
could pull it off, and it was reluctance on her part that made her think he
couldn't do it.

	She chuckled to herself as she cleared his academic data from her
terminal and replaced it with one of the many readiness reports she was
required to file with headquarters.  No matter what, the idea of his being a
senshi simply took the cake.  With a slight giggle, she scrolled down to the
right page and resumed typing her evaluation of Hinansho's orbital point
defenses.

***

Outside the orbit of Neptune
H.M.S. Vulcan
13 June 3043

	Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai stretched her arms before her with
something approaching sheer delight.  The black curls on her head shimmered
in the bright lights of the bridge, an echo of the stars that shone in the
blackness of space that were on the main view screen.

	Here, thirty astronomical units away, Sol was just a little larger
than normal star in the sky.  With Neptune clear on the far side of the
system's primary, her little light cruiser was itself a sliver of light in
unimaginable darkness.

	Captain Ichiyusai smiled to herself and gripped the armrest of her
chair.  From her comfortable seat on the bridge that was buried in the heart
of her ship, she could watch the operations of her crew as they cruised back
towards the warmth of the Sun, and the home base of the Moon.

	Vulcan had one of the more boring jobs in space: merchant escort.
The rules required that all merchant ships have military assistance, more
to protect against some accident occurring to the merchie than any real
risk of attack.  After all, the only other ships in space were smaller
ones from the various Earth confederations, and Vulcan's superior
electronics would be able to pick them up from at least ten light seconds
away.

	For now, they were returning to Luna after accompanying two supply
ships out to the base at Charon.  They would be remaining there for a few
months awaiting a shipment from outside the system, so Vulcan was free to
go.  Ichiyusai was definitely enjoying the milk run, and a few looks around
her told that the rest of her bridge crew was enjoying it just as much.  As
her eyes wandered over the status boards, she casually ordered an increase
in speed to four-tenths the speed of light.  That was when the chaos
started.

	"Ma'am, odd readings on bearing three-one-five mark zero-two-zero,
range approximately one light second.  It looks like . . . I'd say . . .  I
don't know." The young astrogation tech shrugged.  "I'm guessing it's just a
fluke reading, because-" He was cut off by a wide variety of alarms from his
console.  In a frenzy he worked to figure out what was happening.

	"What's going on?" shouted the captain, half out of her seat.  The
status boards were going crazy, and she couldn't help but notice the odd
vibration the deck beneath her feet had begun to exhibit.  It rapidly grew
into a rattle, and the rest of the crew was forced to shout in order that
they could be heard.

	"KATAJISTO FIELD DETECTED!" screamed the astrogator, an exclamation
repeated a second later by a much calmer bridge talker.

	Captain Ichiyusai's mind raced.  The Katajisto Field was the basis
for the Fold maneuver that enabled ships to travel interstellar distances in
mere days.  In normal space, the Field could only be detected when a ship
was dropping in or out of a Fold, and without the generators needed, Vulcan
wasn't capable of doing so on her own.  That meant that someone was dropping
out of a Fold and back into reality.  

	Ichiyusai knew that all Fleet ships did their drops at designated
points above and below the ecliptic, well away from normal shipping lanes
and gravitational disturbances like planets.  No friendly ships would ever
pull something like this, not unless their navigational systems were
completely gone.

	She was about to order that the ship go to general quarters when an
even more urgent shout from the astrogator made her blood run cold. 
"Incoming ship detected, bearing three-one-five mark zero-two-zero, coming
on . . . coming straight at us!"

	Ichiyusai's eyes, along with the rest of the crews', turned to one
of the exterior views.  The camera showed a ship careening towards them,
still crackling with the electric-blue residual energies of the Fold
transfer, and showing no signs of stopping.

	"Helm, evasive!" shouted the captain, buckling the belt of her
chair.  The helmsman hadn't needed the order, and was already turning the
ship in a frantic dive to get out of the way of the ship that was
barreling in their direction.  "Sound collision!" she added as an
afterthought, realizing that they probably wouldn't make it.

	All over the ship, what had been a peaceful afternoon turned into
the worst possible situation.  Men and women dumped their coffee cups,
threw aside their books, and dropped their tools to brace themselves for
impact.

	As luck would have it, there was no impact.  Vulcan dived out of
the way, her communications masts missing the newcomer by a mere six
thousand meters as it roared past.

	Vulcan's bridge was chaos.  The dull gong of the collision alarms
mixed with half a dozen different others, the ship's sensors overloaded
from being so close to a defolding ship.  The official talker was being
completely drowned out at this point, with almost everyone shouting at
once.

	Captain Ichiyusai needed to get control, and fast.  Taking a deep
breath, she bellowed, "QUIET!"

	The shouting stopped.  In a slightly calmer voice, she continued.
"Secure alarms."

	"Securing from alarm, aye."

	"Damage?"

	"Damage control reports all clear," replied the talker, whose voice
was still slightly shaky from the near-miss.  "Just some minor injuries,
nothing major."

	"Good," murmured Ichiyusai to herself.  Her crew was safe, now
what about the other ship?  "Give me a full report on that ship that
nearly hit us, please?"

	"One moment, ma'am."  The captain fingered the turtleneck collar of
her uniform while she waited for the scan.

	"Um . . . ma'am, I'm not sure . . . ma'am, they're sending an SOS."

	Captain Ichiyusai simply stared.  "What?"

	"Standard SOS and mayday on all frequencies.  I'll put it on."

	The comm officer pushed a few buttons, and then the bridge was
filled with the sounds of a language it had never heard before.  English,
with a slight German accent.

	"Mayday, mayday, mayday!  This is the European Union Vessel
Concorde, requesting assistance!  We've suffered severe damage due to a
failed Fold transition and have many casualties . . . ."

	Ichiyusai turned to her first officer, genuinely confused.  Her
blood had run hot at the mention of where the ship came from, and what that
nation and others had done to her homeland.  "Concorde?  Do you remember any
ships by that name?"

	"Definitely not," Commander Katsumi Tanazaki shook her head. "And
they shouldn't have any ships capable of getting out here at all . . . ."

	"But," admitted Ichiyusai, "no matter how they got here, they're
here." Her mind was made up; a ship in distress was a ship in distress, no
matter what flag it flew under.  She would simply have to put her feelings
aside for now.  "Ready both shuttles for rescue . . . load them with medics,
engineers . . . and Marines, come to think of it." She looked back levelly
at the slightly confused look on the face of her executive officer.  "Can't
be too careful.  Katsumi, I want you to take the crews over."

	"Okay," said Tanazaki, nodding.  With a quick, unanswered salute,
she trotted down the bridge ladder on her way to the shuttle bay.

	"In the meantime," Ichiyusai continued, "open a channel to . . .
Concorde, I think it was."  She settled herself into her chair and
straightened the collar of her jumpsuit, making sure everything was in
order.  "Audio and visual, please."

	"Aye, sir."  One of the forward screens blinked, and a picture of
absolute darkness was presented.  "Our pickups seem to be working properly,
it must be a problem on their end."

	"Would they have a problem with seeing my picture?"

	"Can't say."

	The captain nodded once.  "Right.  This is Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai
of Her Majesty's Ship Vulcan.  Please identify yourself."

	A long, pregnant pause, and then a scratchy response.  Something
flickered on the screen, perhaps a flashlight beam.  It illuminated the
pale, shivering face of a man who looked to be on the edge of desperation.
"Captain Ichiyusai . . . Captain, you must help us!" came the shaky Japanese
exclaimation.

	"Help is on the way, Captain . . . ?"

	A hint of understanding showed in the man's eyes.  "Walter. Warner
Walter, of Concorde."

	Ichiyusai burned with questions that she wanted to ask, but for
now they would have to wait.  "How many do you have aboard, Captain?"

	"About one hundred, Captain.  They're all in pressure suits . . .
well, except we on the bridge."  His eyebrow twitched at that, but otherwise
Ichiyusai was given no indication as to why the bridge crew would be exempt.

	"What's the extent of your damage?"  She knew her first officer was
listening in on the conversation, even as she readied the boarding parties
in the shuttle bay, and she wanted Commander Tanazaki to be as prepared as
possible.

	"Our Fold generator is completely gone," he said flatly.
"Engineering took it bad, the entire compartment was exposed to vacuum. I'm
afraid our ship wasn't truly designed for such a catastrophe; the vacuum
seals popped all over the place.  Bridge survived, we're still not sure
how." The anguish in his voice was manifest.  Despite the differences
between the two, Ichiyusai could feel the common loss of a ship, a ship she
knew from experience was just like a child to the man.

	"My first officer is making her way to your ship as we speak. Will
you be able to give her docking instructions, or . . . ?"

	Captain Walter looked to his side and listened to someone before
answering.  "Best if you guide her in yourself, Captain.  Most of our
external sensors are out."

	Captain Ichiyusai nodded.  "If there's anything else we can do to
assist you, please don't hesitate to ask."

	"Thank you, Captain."

***

	The suit that Commander Katsumi Tanazaki wore was sufficient to
protect her from the ravages of vacuum and interplanetary radiation for up
to twelve hours, but it wasn't the battle armor worn by the Marines who
flanked her.  For that reason, she felt terribly naked, crouched next to the
main hatch of Vulcan's shuttle.  Tanazaki definitely had her doubts about
the mission.  The odds that a ship would materialize right in their path and
require assistance were too astronomical to think about, especially a ship
from one of their enemies.

	She knew, intellectually, that the European Union was no longer an
enemy of Serenity II.  That had officially ended with the Treaty of Crystal
Tokyo on 21 April 3035.  More practically--and emotionally--there had been
definite bad blood between the two.  Only Serenity II's recent attempts at
reconciliation, most notably the large increases in immigration quotas
allowing Terrans to move to the various Moon Kingdom colonies, had begun to
mend things.

	For Commander Tanazaki, who had been on Vulcan during one of the
endless runs to ferry the survivors from Japan to the Moon, and who had lost
a mother and two brothers to the mad act of one of the Europeans, there
would be no mending, now or ever.  She had sworn herself to that before, and
swore it even now.

	Even as she did so, she also kept in mind that this was a
humanitarian mission.  Her suit emphasized that: she was a visiting officer,
not the leader of an armed boarding party--the very concept of which had
been simply a theoretical concept until now.  If this was in fact an ambush,
she would most likely die.  The fact that the RSN would avenge her death was
scant comfort.

	Again and again the question came to her mind: why was Concorde
here?  It should be impossible.  Terra was light-years from FTL drives,
everyone knew that.  The secret of the Fold generator had been jealously
guarded, and even if it leaked, it had been assumed that only Crystal Tokyo
had the money and resources to put it into practical use.  This changed
everything.  It wasn't her place to wonder about what this did to the
tactical situation and the balance of power in the Sol system, but as one of
those who might be called upon to fight, she couldn't help but run through
the possible permutations in her head.  How many would die in the next
inevitable war with Earth?

	She was spared further depressing thoughts by a call from the pilot
in her helmet communications system.  "Ma'am, we're preparing to dock now."

	"Thank you," she said courteously, trying not to let her nervousness
show in her voice--and failing in the process.

	The second ticked down.  "Docked."  A few seconds later, "Secured."

	Tanazaki gestured to two Marines, who with great reluctance put away
their sidearms and went to open the hatch, checking to make sure the
pressure gauges read all green before doing so.  The circular hatch rolled
slightly inward and to the side, and the short three-meter-long gangway
loomed.  Red lights within alerted them that there was no gravity in the
tube.  Taking a deep breath, the commander leapt into the gangway, where the
far hatch was already opening.

	At least the lights were on, she noticed.  The receiving bay was
brightly lit, and she could see about half a dozen people in suits waiting. 
With practiced ease, she made the transition from tube to the artificial
gravity of Concorde.  That was no surprise, at least; artificial gravity had
been one secret Terra had found out on her own out of necessity, when she
realized that she had to build up a large Solar Fleet to counteract the
galactic one Serenity I was constructing.

	Tanazaki couldn't be faulted for forgetting her manners.  Her first
act upon setting foot on the deck of Concorde was to salute the leader of
the group, a short stocky woman who looked overjoyed to see her behind the
clear plastic bubble of her helmet.  Tanazaki noted absent-mindedly that the
EU crew had bright orange suits, while her own party that was floating into
position behind her had white, almost silver suits.

	"Commander Katsumi Tanazaki, Royal Star Navy," she announced in
Japanese.  "Permission to come aboard?"

	"Granted, and thank God," replied the other woman in accented
Japanese, who saluted smartly before extending a gloved hand at Tanazaki.
The Japanese woman sighed inwardly, but outwardly forced a smile and took
the foreigner's hand to shake it.  It was probably too much to ask her to
bow, Tanazaki thought ruefully.  "I'm Lieutenant (j.g.) Kathy Albright.  I
guess I'm ranking engineer now."

	"Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant."

	"Oh, and this is Doctor Belloff."  She gestured to another man, who
looked to be old and balding.  "He can show your medics the way to the
infirmary."

	"Good idea.  Doctor Iwasa?"  From behind Tanazaki, another woman
stepped forward.  "This is Doctor Iwasa, our chief surgeon.  You two will
probably want to get right to work, so I won't get in the way. Lieutenant,
if you don't mind I'd like to speak with your captain?"

	The young junior grade lieutenant blushed.  "Yes, sir, right this
way."

***

	"So you're not going to confiscate our ship?"

	Tanazaki sighed, and for the thousandth time she wished her superior
had decided to take on this assignment.  "No, sir, we aren't.  As I
explained before, she's still your ship, even if she's incapable of
returning to port without assistance."

	"But-"

	"No buts, sir."  The two were in Captain Walter's office, just off
from the bridge.  She had taken off her pressure suit, yet was beginning to
wish she hadn't; its air conditioning unit would have made the stifling heat
in the room bearable.  Mentally she urged on the repair crews who were
working on the ship's life support systems.  "When will you be departing?"
she asked innocently.

	Walter sighed deeply.  "Once the rest of my crew is off.  You say
this is still my ship?"

	"Well, technically the ship belongs to the government of the
European Union, according to the ship's records.  While we'd be within our
rights to claim it as salvage," and here she had to keep herself from noting
that she'd rather keep the ship out of the EU's hands, "our ship isn't
capable of doing so, and such authorization would have to come from higher
up." 

	She took out a handlink and began tapping at it, never noticing the
look of despair on Walter's face.  "It says here your mission was simply to
make a test run of the Fold generator?  Amazing, we hadn't thought you knew
the workings of the Katajisto field."

	The captain snorted indignantly.  "Katajisto was from Finland.
Surely you must have known that some other physicists might have known him
and his work!  But yes, we do know.  For years it was simply a matter of
gathering the resources."

	"So this was your test vessel?"

	"Yes.  And that test failed."

	Commander Tanazaki frowned.  "You made it from Terra to Neptune's
orbit; that's nothing to sneeze at."

	"Our drive disappeared!"

	She couldn't help but reply glibly.  "It's due to an elementary
fault in your drive design.  Sailor Mercury encountered the same problem on
her first tests; with the appropriate compensations you can keep the drive
intact." Too late she realized that her simplistic and ready explanation
might have offended her host.  The captain's face fell, and he spun in his
chair to face the blank wall.  She began to stammer out an apology, but was
stopped by his upraised hand.

	"It's okay.  You're ahead of us, I'm used to it.  Still," he
continued after a long pause, "you have to admit that you're not alone out
there . . . out here . . . anymore."

	Tanazaki had to nod at that.  A European ship, out here on the edges
of the solar system.  It definitely wasn't where she thought she would end
up when she had woken that morning.  "Sir, perhaps you could take me on a
tour of your ship?  It would be a rather quick one, I know," and here she
couldn't help but smile sadly, "but I'd like to see what you accomplished
while the galaxy wasn't looking."

	Captain Walter's chair spun around, and the look in his eyes was
something Tanazaki had seen once before, when her father had proudly shown
her newborn sister to fawning relatives, the pride of a father brandishing a
child.  "It would be a pleasure.  Tell Luna what we've done."

***

Inner Sanctum of Neo-Queen Serenity II and the Planet Senshi
One hour later
	
	One hundred ninety four centimeters tall, with the right build,
black hair, dark eyes a woman could lose herself in, a charming personality,
and a leading member of the Lunar diplomatic corps.  In Diana's mind, a
perfect choice.

	"So, when I went into university I knew that I wanted to go into
international relations," said Eisaku Hirota, newly-appointed ambassador to
the European Union.  He and Diana walked along the hallway leading to the
offices of the senshi, on their way to the main conference room.

	Diana nodded, paying close attention as he talked about his
motivations and education.  She had been through this discreet screening
process before; she doubted that anyone else even realized that it was going
on.

	The gray cat hated suitors.  They were all after one thing and one
thing only: being married to the most powerful woman in the known galaxy. 
She had given up on any hope with them in 3037, and since then she had
decided that simply getting Serenity II a boyfriend would be good enough.

	She held no stock in arranged marriages.  That was one point where
she differed from her mother, Diana knew.  Luna or Artemis would have
lectured her long on the need for a proper husband, so that the people of
the Moon Kingdom could look proudly upon their leaders.  It wouldn't do for
Serenity II to marry just anybody, it had to be both socially and
politically acceptable.  There was also the matter of producing an heir to
the throne.  There had to be a Serenity III, yet none seemed forthcoming.
That was a nightmare Diana had grappled with more than once.  Serenity II,
for one, seemed oblivious to the need.  Diana had to admit that her monarch
had a point; what with all the other reforms she was instituting, and the
ever-present search for a new capital, there simply wasn't the time for her
to think seriously about becoming a mother.

	Diana didn't like to think of her queen as just a means to producing
an heir.  There was more to life and marriage than that.  She wanted, more
than almost anything, for Serenity II to marry someone she loved, not
someone who it was politically advantageous to wed.  That was why so many
potential candidates had been rejected.

	The gray cat chuckled silently to herself.  The look on the face of
one would-be suitor had been particularly humorous.  Commander Kinnosuke
Yoshitomi, second officer of H.M.S. Furuhata, and the highest ranking man in
the Royal Star Navy, was probably the most likely candidate.  When he had
sent a discreet message wishing to give Her Majesty a tour of the RSN
flagship, Diana had shown no mercy in shooting him down.

	Eisaku was different, though.  Diana had never considered cutting
him off, partly because of his personality--he was as liberal and
reform-minded as Serenity II herself--and partly because he never seemed
like he was very interested.  Of course, he could be hiding it, but from
what Diana knew of him, she felt that he wasn't the type to hide such
things.  He genuinely hadn't thought of being a suitor to his Queen, and in
that case he would simply have to be pointed in the right direction.

	"So did you like Europe?" she asked, during a lull in their
conversation.  The two were now very close to their destination.

	"Very much, yes.  Ywo years in London, then three in Vienna. Vienna
was a lovely city, absolutely wonderful." His eyes turned dreamy at the
memory.  "Of all the places I've been, it was there that I was least
resented for being Japanese . . . and it was there that I first found love."

	Diana panicked, but only for a moment.  Outwardly nothing showed
but the briefest ruffling of her fur.  "I didn't know you were involved,"
she said cautiously.

	"Oh, I'm not anymore," he replied easily.  "We broke up when I went
back to Crystal Tokyo, though."

	"Why not?  Didn't she want to marry you?"  Although Japan had always
been strict about immigrants, it was usually the case that if you married a
Japanese national you were assured of entrance into the country and eventual
citizenship.  That had been by far the most common method used to enter
Japan.

	"We weren't allowed to be married in Austria."  The answer was oddly
flat. "And we couldn't work out a way of getting out to a different
confederation and having the marriage legally accepted, so I had to leave
him behind.  We were still writing to each other when the war kicked off,
but . . . ." He left the rest unsaid.

	Diana froze in her tracks.  Eisaku kept going for a moment, then
stopped when he realized that Diana was no longer walking along with him.
The man turned and looked down at the gray cat.  "What's wrong?"

	"Um, I . .  . I didn't know . . . didn't you have a girlfriend when
you were sixteen?"

	Eisaku crouched down next to the cat and smiled.  "Did your
homework, didn't you?"  Diana was too embarrassed to reply.  "Well yes, I
did have a girlfriend, and she was very nice.  But we both realized pretty
early on that I couldn't give her what she wanted, and that I wasn't
getting anything either.  So we parted amicably.  I bet your file didn't
have that, did it?"

	In as much as it was possible for a gray cat to blush, Diana
blushed.

	The young ambassador laughed easily.  "A person in my field has to
know these kinds of things, My Lady," and from the tone of his voice Diana
couldn't help but smile in return.  "I figured you'd check on my background,
if only to see if I might be a good choice for Her Majesty's husband."

	"You know?!"

	"*Everyone* knows, Diana-san."  She was about to ask him about it
further, but they had arrived at their destination.  "Eisaku Hirota and Lady
Diana, here to see Her Majesty," he announced himself to the senshi guards.

	"You're expected," said Sailor Astrix cordially, bowing and turning
to open the door.  As the cat and the human entered, they saw Serenity II
sitting on a couch and reading a handlink.  She wore the white gown with
yellow trim that she normally wore for public appearances, but her regal
appearance was marred somewhat by the pink bunny slippers on her feet,
propped up on a table.

	Diana smiled.  Her queen certainly knew how to relax.  "Your
Majesty, I have Hirota-san for you."

	Serenity II looked up and absent-mindedly brushed a single pink
ponytail from her cheek.  "Hi Diana," she said with a smile.  "I just got
back from the elementary school visit you scheduled."

	Diana bowed, and Eisaku followed suit.  "Did you enjoy yourself,
Your Majesty?" he asked.

	"It was wonderful," said Serenity.  "Wait, you're my new European
ambassador, aren't you?" She frowned.  "I guess this isn't just a social
call, then." In an instant, the formerly emotional face was replaced with
the impassive one Diana called Serenity's 'game face.' The queen stood and
inclined her head slightly.

	"Actually, Your Majesty, it *is* a social call of sorts.  Diana here
thought-"

	"That's not important!" cut in Diana hastily.  "I just thought you
might want to give him instructions personally, before he leaves for London
next week."

	"Hm."  She took two steps towards Eisaku and eyed him up and down.
"So, you're the one I've heard so many good things about?  They say you're
the best political genius who isn't already up to the neck in commitments."

	"My only commitment is to the Crown," he replied.

	She smiled slightly at that, as if making a joke with herself. "We
shall see about that.  Times are changing, and sometimes the Crown is no
more sure of what she wants than her servants."

	"I relish some unpredictability in my life, Your Majesty," he said,
grinning.

	"You'll get it."  There was a knock at the door.  "Perhaps earlier
than you thought . . . ." She trailed off as a soft electronic ringing came
from the table.  The queen ran a hand through her hair, making sure it was
all right, and then pushed a small pink button.  "Yes?"

	"Sailor Venus here.  We've got news for you, and we're not sure it's
good." The senshi's voice seemed hurried, somewhat, and not a little
surprised.

	"What's happened?" asked Serenity II immediately.  The other two
occupants of the room shared a worried glance.

***

Royal Star Navy Headquarters

	From her post overlooking the main operations room, Sailor Venus
tried to look cool and think of how to explain it.  She really hadn't been
too sure how to react to it herself when the flash transmission came from
the outskirts of the solar system.  About the only thing she was sure of was
that it wasn't for her alone to decide what to do next.  Leaving it in the
hands of Serenity II wasn't her first choice either, but who else could be
in charge?

	"Um, a short time ago, one of our escort ships encountered a ship
belonging to the European Union de-Folding.  Our ship picked up the
survivors and is on its way here."

	On one of the screens at the front of the room, Sailor Venus had the
pleasure of seeing Serenity II's face go through shock, surprise, and
finally amazement.  "It Folded?" she asked.  Venus could see another man
behind her: it looked like the new EU ambassador.

	"Yes, Your Majesty."

	The queen said something indistinct, and then Serenity II vanished
from the screen.  At the same time, she popped into existence next to Sailor
Venus.  It was a great credit to the blonde's nerves that she didn't even
jump at the teleport.  "I wish you'd stop doing that, Sere . . . um . . . ."
Sailor Venus had just noted that Serenity II was accompanied by Eisaku and
Diana.  From the looks on their faces, it seemed that the two hadn't
expected this either.

	"Where are they now?" Serenity II asked immediately, not noticing
the murmurs of surprise rippling through the room.  She glanced up at the
status screens impatiently.

	"Vulcan?  She's still a good way out, even though she said she's
redlining the engines to get here as soon as she can.  We have the crew
manifests and lists of survivors, and I've already ordered two other ships
out to intercept.

        Serenity II nodded to herself.  "Very good, very good.  Have the
Europeans contacted us yet?"

        "No, Your Highness."

        "Have we contacted them?"

        "No, Your Highness.  I was waiting for your instructions."

        Serenity II turned to face Eisaku, who was still struggling to get
caught up with events.  "Hirota-san, we're going to be talking to the EU. 
This will undoubtedly be a turning-point in our relations.  We're no longer
the one ones out here; they can go to the stars too.  If there's a milligram
of the old Crystal Tokyo elitism that pervaded our diplomats before the war
left in you, you'd better let me know now."

	The command nest of the room where they stood fell silent.  Never
had Serenity II made so clear her feelings towards the old guard, not in
public.  Sailor Venus bit her lower lip, trying not to say anything.

	"Yes, Serenity-sama, you've got it."  The smile she gave him at that
point warmed him to the core.  Brimming with confidence, he turned to face
the main screens.  His strong voice rung throughout the chamber.  "Establish
a connection with the Prime Minister in London!"

***

Nagano-2
One hour previous

	"Eileen?" asked Jen uncertainly.

	"Yes, Jennifer?" replied Eileen, flipping through the newspaper. It
was a Sunday afternoon, and the two were enjoying a favorite pastime for
that time of that day: sitting in the living room, reading and talking. 
Both had seemingly put the incident with Achika's mother behind them, though
Eileen still chuckled when she thought of Takeshi wanting to be a Marine.

	"How long have we been together?"

	The brunette put down the newspaper.  "We met in the spring of 3028,
our first time was that summer.  That makes it fifteen years."

	"Yes.  Fifteen years is a long time to be together, isn't it?"

	"I suppose so.  My parents were married eight years when they had
me, and they were still together when I moved to Japan."

	"Not many people stay together fifteen years without a sort of
committment, hm?"

	Eileen leaned over from her spot on the couch to give Jen a hug. "I
love you, and you love me.  What more commitment can there be?"

	"Sometimes.  Usually, when two people love one another, they . . .
they get married," she finished, blushing heavily.

	Eileen was taken aback by this; she had seen many things from Jen,
but blushing wasn't one of them.  In the back of her mind, she wondered what
had brought this up.  "Well, yeah, but we're both women."

	"The law says a marriage between two people is still a marriage, no
matter what their genders are.  It's possible, if we want to do it." The
redhead's hands shook slightly.

	The brunette thought about this.  "So what are you trying to say?"
asked Eileen uncertainly.

	Jen closed her eyes and tried to slow the racing of her heart. In
all the years of her life, this was probably the most important thing she'd
ever ask.  Getting out of her seat by Eileen's side, she bent to one knee
and looked up at her love with tears shining brightly in her eyes.  "Eileen
Pearcy, would you make me the happiest woman in the universe, and marry me?"

	Eileen's heart caught in her throat.  This couldn't be real . . .
before she knew it the words were out of her mouth.

	"Jennifer Allison Sakachi, I want nothing more than to be yours now
and forever.  I'll marry you."

	And so it began.

--end I