For Love and Justice

                                  Part III

                  by LeVar Bouyer (ldbouyer@earthlink.net)


Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
29 June 3043
17:03 Lunar Standard Time

	The night after Queen Serenity II fired six of her eight oldest and
closest senshi, she sat down to dinner alone.  As opposed to the usual
dinners she had, surrounded by advisers, dignitaries, and of course the
ubiquitous senshi, this one was in her own dining room.  She called it her
"real" dining room; it was next to the kitchen.  Most people didn't even
realize she had a kitchen.  The original plans for her quarters hadn't
included one, but she insisted.

	This was one of the occasions for which she had insisted upon it. 
Left to her own devices, she had cooked up a few grilled chicken sticks,
some broccoli, steamed rice, and two cups of sake.  The sake was one of a
dwindling supply of bottles made with rice from a Kyushu paddy known for its
high quality rice.  The water was pure and unrefined from a mountain stream
near Nagano.  Her family had only three dozen bottles left, and two dozen
were hers alone.  She'd decided the occasion demanded something special.

	A minor manipulation of the ginzuishou kept her food steaming hot
and her sake pleasantly warm.  She allowed herself a small sip of the sake,
savoring the wine as it trickled down her throat with a soothing warmth. 
She then frowned.

	"You're late," said the Queen, a split second before Sailor Saturn
materialized in front of her.  There was no bang of displaced air.

	Sailor Saturn smiled slightly, putting her Glaive aside into
pocket-space and sitting across from her Queen at the small round table.  She
looked down at the plate Serenity II had set for her.  "Sorry.  Sailor
Hyades had me tied up with questions forever."

	"You mean after the planet senshi."  Serenity II grinned impishly
and bowed briefly, giving thanks for the meal.  "Try the chicken, it's a new
recipe I've been working on."

	"Thanks."  She picked up a slice of chicken and dipped it in the
small cup of sweet and sour sauce next to her plate, then chewed on it
thoughtfully.  "Hm . . . pretty good.  Did you get the recipe from the flag
officer's commissary?"

	Serenity II scowled in the middle of biting into her broccoli.  The
result was a rather loud crunching sound as her teeth penetrated the
fresh vegetable, and Sailor Saturn couldn't help but laugh.  "It's not
funny!" insisted Serenity II, which of course only made Saturn laugh harder.

	"Begging your pardon, Usagi-chan, but it is."  Sailor Saturn sipped
her sake, then looked up at her Queen with surprise.  "Crown sake?"

	The pink-haired woman shrugged, a simple gesture in her casual white
blouse.  "I felt like it."

	"Oh.  Well it's quite good, thank you."  Saturn took another sip,
then sighed.  "Actually, the planet senshi haven't been after me at all. 
Most of them were after Sailor Pluto, demanding to know why they weren't
told."

	"Oh?"  Serenity II picked up a bit of rice and chicken.  "What did
she say?"

	"Nothing, as usual.  You know how she can be."  They shared a smile;
the two shared the distinction of being closer to Sailor Pluto than anyone
else.

	"Right.  Should I ask how they took it?"

	Sailor Saturn looked into Serenity II's eyes.  "Sailor Mercury is
resigned to it.  So is Jupiter.  Venus will probably come around.  The rest
are very upset."

	The Queen met Saturn's gaze, then nodded.  "About what I expected."
She thought a moment, then nodded again.  "You don't have to stay like that,
you know.  Feel free to relax."

	"Are you sure?"  Serenity II merely raised a pink eyebrow.  Sailor
Saturn shrugged and detransformed, her sailor fuku fading into flowing
purple ribbons.  The Queen looked on with slightly greater interest than was
appropriate for a monarch as the ribbons faded in turn to reveal hints of
the senshi's nude form, and then Hotaru Tomoe sat before her in the black
jumpsuit of the Royal Star Navy.  Serenity II noted once again how few
decorations she wore, and made a note to ask about it some other time.

	"There, that's better," smiled the Queen.  "Yes, I did expect it. 
But I had to do it."

	Hotaru nodded.  "I know.  I . . . it's just hard.  It's like losing
part of a family." Worse than that, actually; the eight planet senshi were
more than family.  They had to be, since their biological families had long
since turned to dust, memorialized only in their hearts and in the names of
ships, parks, buildings.  They had trained, drilled, and fought together for
centuries, and knowing she wouldn't have them at her side any longer was
almost literally inconceivable.

	"Well, I could have asked them just to dump all their old prejudices
and outdated modes of thinking, but that wouldn't have worked either.  And
then I'd still have the anger to deal with.  This time I just have the
anger."

	"I see."  They ate in silence for a moment, the meal only being
interrupted when the Queen went to the kitchen to refill their plates.  "Did
you talk to Diana?"

	"Oh, no.  This was pretty much a decision I made on my own."  She
poured herself another cup of sake, then offered the bottle to Hotaru, who
politely refused.  "Once I decided, I told Diana, and she told Sailor
Cassiopeia to draw up the resignation letters."

	A long pause.  "I'm sorry."

	"Don't be.  You're not like the rest of them, that's one reason I'm
keeping you around.  Sailor Pluto, of course, I have to keep because of her
position as Guardian of Time."

	"What's the other reason for keeping me?" asked Hotaru.  On this
point she was genuinely curious; she doubted the Queen would allow their
friendship--she still wouldn't allow herself to use any other word--to color
decisions affecting the realm.

	"Two reasons, actually."  Serenity II paused to chew another chicken
strip.  "First, I've decided to appoint new planet senshi, and you'll be in
charge of training them.  Second," she continued, cutting off Hotaru before
she had a chance to ask what the hell she had planned, "I like you very
much.  Too much to fire you.  So, I want you to stay.  I *need* you to stay
by my side.  I can trust you, Hotaru-chan, and you have no idea how
important that will be soon.  Can you do it?"

	Hotaru simply stared.


Officer's Dining Club
Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
18:12 Lunar Standard Time

	Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai stared at her plate of spaghetti.  "Remind
me why I eat here?"

	"Probably because it's free, Fuyuko-chan."  Her first officer,
Katsumi Tanazaki, took a large bite into her bacon double cheeseburger. 
Even with anti-cholesterol drugs, it was an utter cardiac disaster.  She
didn't care, though; as far as she was concerned, she deserved a bit of
indulgence for all the extra hours of work she'd put in.  Katsumi savored
the juices of the beef, the smoothness of the cheese, and above all the
burger's utter greasiness.  The lettuce and tomatoes tossed on the burger
did little to cancel out the unhealthy aspects of her meal, but they helped
her rationalize the argument she was having with her inner cardiologist. 
Besides, it was a pleasing change from the traditional Japanese fare
Vulcan's chefs preferred to make.

	Fuyuko shook her head.  "Wonderful.  We're called upon to make the
ultimate sacrifice for Queen and Realm, and in return we get crappy pasta."

	Katsumi shrugged and took another bite of her burger, washing it
down with a pink soda.  "Told you not to try the spaghetti.  So, any luck
with Ensign Kunisada?"  She looked up to her captain.  "Go ahead, take one."

	"Thanks, Katsumi-chan."  She plucked a French fry from Katsumi's
plate.  "Actually, I did have a bit of luck.  You know how hard it's been to
get rid of her lately?"

	The commander nodded.  Since the official board of inquiry had
completely exonerated Ensign Mieko Kunisada of instigating a brawl on board
HMS Vulcan, the two women had tried to find a way to get her off the ship. 
Unfortunately for them, their increasingly insistent requests for the Bureau
of Personnel to reassign Ensign Kunisada had met a brick wall.  Neither would
say it aloud, but they both knew it had to be senshi influence.  Otherwise,
a flat-out refusal of a commanding officer to accept a member of her crew
had to be honored.  "Yeah?"

	"Well, I went down there before I came here, and the papers had gone
through."

	Katsumi blinked.  "For real?"

	"For real.  She's been reassigned to HQ duty.  Hopefully she won't
find any Terrans to slug there." RSN Headquarters was beneath their
feet--far beneath their feet, in fact.  Buried deep in the Lunar rock, it
was supposed to withstand any attack at all, even a direct antimatter
strike.  As no human had yet found a reasonable, efficient way to make
antimatter weapons of any consequence, it seemed the headquarters were
completely impregnable.  This hadn't stopped the senshi from building the
Queen's emergency shelters much deeper, almost in the center of Luna.

	"Hallelujah!" exclaimed Katsumi.  She wiped at her mouth with a
napkin and grinned impishly.  "I thought we'd never get rid of her!"

	"Me too."  Fuyuko looked thoughtfully at her spaghetti, then began
twirling the noodles around the tines of her silver fork.  "I just . . . I
don't know.  It seems too easy, somehow."

	"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," said Katsumi.  "If they want
to take her, fine."

	"I just hope they don't replace her with someone who's even worse."

	Katsumi raised an eyebrow.  "Ensign Kunisada wasn't all that bad,
Fuyuko-chan.  Her efficiency ratings were pretty good, remember?"

	"Right.  She just completely lost her temper one day."  Fuyuko
wrinkled her nose.  "This is awful."

	"Their lasagna is a bit better."  She sighed.  "Dammit, Fuyuko-chan,
now you've gone and gotten me paranoid."

	Fuyuko smiled and snatched another of Katsumi's French fries.  "That's
what COs are for, Katsumi-chan.  Um . . . are you going to eat the rest of
those?"


Planetary Defense Headquarters
Nagano-2, Colony of Hinansho
30 June 3043
16:20 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"And this is the main command room."  The bulletproof glass doors
swung open as Sailor Orion, Sailor America, and a host of others arrived. 
Two Marines in black and gold dress uniforms had awaited their arrival, and
now their green berets seemed almost to shimmer in the bright light of
Hinansho's military nerve center.

	Sailor Orion wore a natural smile as she stepped over the yellow and
black-striped warning tape and into the command room proper.  Today was an
absolutely gorgeous Queen's Day.  There was scarcely a cloud in the sky, and
the bright light of Nozomi streamed through the angled windows in the wall
furthest Sailor Orion and her party.  The soft ceiling lights were still on,
but Sailor Orion was fairly confident the room would be illuminated
brilliantly even without them.

	Queen's Day, the Queen's Birthday, fell every 30th of June.  It was
one of the few national holidays the Moon Kingdom celebrated.  All schools,
government offices, and quite a few businesses closed.  There were only a
few exceptions: department stores stayed open to lure customers with
widespread sales, holomovie theaters offered the newest smash hits, Fruit
Parlor Crown upheld its own tradition, and essential places like Planetary
Defense Headquarters never closed for any reason at all.

	Of course, routine had to be interrupted, as holidays so often do. 
Today, for example, the defense complex was open to the public.  Tour guides
led groups of fifteen to twenty people through the vast underground warrens
of Nagano-2, where were buried the various shelters and backup command
centers for the staff.  Command Central of Planetary Defense Headquarters
was a sensitive area, however, and so the rules were a bit more strict. 
After the requisite parade down the streets of Nagano-2, Sailor Orion and
Sailor America had met a group of students, dignitaries, contest winners,
and politicians, all of whom had been cleared beforehand.

	Sailor Orion viewed it as another duty to be performed.  Sailor
America loved it.

	"As you can see," said Sailor America, picking up the thread, "all
of our personnel are hard at work." The room was half full of men and women
in uniform.  Most of them were paying little attention to their consoles and
looking at the assorted group of civilians who now stood in a clump at the
door.  Sailor America smirked.  "Actually, that isn't too far from the
truth.  The Eyrie's main purpose these days is responding to official
communications from Luna.  Right this way, please?"

	She led the group further into the room.  The civilians had to
negotiate the rather unfriendly topography.  First, the floor was sunken in
its middle, where most of the computer consoles were.  With an intermediate
step between normal floor level and computer floor level, navigating the
room without unexpectedly dropping a couple centimeters wasn't easy,
especially for one who had never been there and didn't know what to expect. 
The yellow and black caution stripes painted on the lip of each step weren't
easy to notice, being as they were at peoples' feet.

	Second, the room was not laid out in anything approaching a rational
format.  Rows of consoles were laid out with little regard for ease of
movement or efficiency of design.  Eileen stood next to the wall of sunlit
windows, but the path the civilians used had many twists and turns. 
Eventually they ended up fanning out across the entire room, each picking
their own individual ways to the wall.

	Sailor Orion stood by the door and shook her head at Sailor America. 
The brown-haired senshi leaned against the warm glass and grinned at the
predicament of the visitors.  Probably not the best way to foster
public/military relations, but it was damned hilarious.  She saw at least
one of their guests was smiling, and waved at the girl.  She looked to be
about seven, dressed up in a rather pretty white dress which contrasted with
her jet-black hair.  The girl waved back and drew near.

	"Hi," she said simply, looking up at the much taller sailor senshi.

	"Hey there," replied Sailor America, dropping to one knee so their
eyes would be closer to level.  "What's your name?"

	"Junko."

	"Ooh, Junko.  That's a pretty name."

	"Thank you."  Junko turned to the window and looked down at the
streets below.  Sweeping machines and cleaning trucks were clearing away the
confetti and ticker tape from the parade, and just around the corner the
fringes of a block party could be seen.  "Do you work here a lot?"

	Sailor America shrugged.  "A bit.  Not really, though, that's more
Sailor Orion's job."

	"When I grow up I want to work here and help you defend the world."

	"Oh really?  Good, we're always looking for new people.  I'd like to
see you in one of these chairs ten years from now." She smiled
encouragingly.  "You'll have to do well in school, but I'm sure you're
already doing great in that department.  Junko nodded enthusiastically, and
Sailor America straightened, looking back at the rest of the guests who were
now assembled in a rough line along the wall.

	"Now then, you may think this place is rather vulnerable in the
event of an attack.  After all, how many command bunkers have windows?  But
these are no ordinary windows." Sailor America grinned and rapped her
knuckles on the window, then glanced over the crowd.  She picked one burly
man who looked like he lifted weights and small cars in his spare time. 
"You, sir, would you mind kicking the window there?"

	The man stared at her, raising an eyebrow.  "I beg your pardon,
Sailor America?"

	Sailor America shrugged.  "Kick it.  Give it a good solid one,
everything you've got."

	He stared at the glass.  From the metal window frames, he could see
the glass wasn't thick at all, perhaps four or five millimeters.  A trick,
obviously, but it couldn't hurt.  It was her window, anyway, she'd be sure
to replace it once it went crashing down onto the street.  The man stepped
back, looked at the window carefully, then aimed a toe kick at the center of
a pane.

	There was a dull ring, as if striking a deep, heavy bell.  He
remained motionless, his toe resting against the window.  He hadn't managed
to break it, dislodge it, or indeed even so much as make it vibrate.  He
might as well have kicked a granite mountain, except kicking a mountain
would have been more painful.

	"As you can see, the windows here aren't glass, but a nanotech built
crystal several dozen layers thick.  They can withstand pretty much anything
that isn't nuclear.  I'm told they could even stop a senshi punch or kick,
though I never considered trying.  And in an emergency . . . ."  She nodded
to one of the techs sitting nearby, who flicked a switch.  The room grew
darker as opaque shutters dropped down to cover the windows.  "These little
numbers add a bit more protection, and should shield against almost all the
radiation resulting from a nuclear blast.  Happily, they've never been put
to the test."

	Sailor Orion stepped forward from the main doors where she had been
hanging back.  "In an emergency, all the information we had would be flowing
into these computers.  Since it would be chaotic to have everyone talk to
everyone else at once, we have a designated person called a talker, who
receives all the reports and messages from everyone else and brings them to
the attention of whoever might be in command."

	"Talkers are fun people," remarked Sailor America, nodding to the
same tech to reopen the shutters.  "They always have to sound calm no matter
what's going on--mostly because of tradition more than anything--and so-"
She was interrupted by a two-tone chime, almost bell-like in timbre. 
Simultaneous with this, a green light flashed on top of one of the consoles
at the opposite side of the room from the senshi and guests.

	The redheaded senshi blinked.  She was a bit slow to realize what it
was, and comprehension came at the same time the comm tech called it out. 
"Incoming flash message from RSN Headquarters, ma'am!"

	Sailor Orion glanced at her fiancee, then shrugged.  "I'll get it,"
she said, dashing over to the console in question.

	Sailor America smiled her brilliant and very well-known smile to the
visitors.  "A flash message is a bit different from the normal traffic we
get here.  Most communications are sent through a combination of
thaumatological relays and Fold-space transmitters.  It sounds complicated,
but it's really not too bad.  The problem is that it takes a long time for
the signal to be sent . . . ."

	Sailor Orion tuned out America's explanation of interstellar
communication and bent over next to the comm tech.  His name patch
identified him as Petty Officer Second Class Etsuya Takimoto.  "What do we
have?"

	Etsuya peered at the message headers.  "Well, it's not a war
warning, it's not classified that high.  Just a level three."

	"Level three."  Sailor Orion pondered.  Level three dispatches were
normally routine FYI messages, usually not major.  On the other hand, the
energy costs in sending messages through the modified flash fold system, as
compared to conventional methods, was such that their use was limited. 
"Okay."

	She turned to the console next to PO Takimoto's, crossing one leg
behind the other and resting it on her toe.  "I hate these authentication
procedures," she remarked.  Her gloved fingers played over the keyboard,
verifying that she was Sailor Orion and legally able to view the material. 
"Hm . . . this was sent at 13:13 Lunar Standard Time."  She glanced at the
situation clocks which ringed the tops of the wall next to the ceiling,
getting an idea for the time differential.  "I thought the Queen's birthday
party would be keeping them busy."

	Sailor Orion finished her typing and looked up at the main screens. 
"Okay, put it on."  The central screen, which had been displaying a picture
of the RSN logo, blanked out and showed the various message headers.  She
made a half turn, leaning her hips against the cool plastic of the console
and looking over at the guests.

	"You're in for a bit of a treat today, ladies and gentlemen.  We
have a dispatch from Luna, sent by the fastest means possible.  Just a few
hours ago, actually."  She glanced back at the comm tech.  "Ready?"

	"Ready, ma'am."  He pressed a couple buttons and then the well-known
visage of Sailor Cassiopeia filled the screen, her blonde curly hair framing
a face which was both cute and oddly worried.  Her green eyes blinked
rapidly, then glanced down at the notes which rustled over the speakers.

	"Is this on already?  Is it--okay, okay."  She glanced to her side,
then back at the camera.  Behind her, senshi were in the midst of frenzied
activity in what seemed to be the central control room of RSN Headquarters. 
Sailor Orion frowned and turned fully to the screen, resting her arms on the
console before her.  Behind her, Sailor America took a step forward.

	Sailor Cassiopeia swallowed, then closed her eyes a moment, then
opened them again.  "This message is being sent to all senshi as a level
three informational dispatch.  It is not classified, though the means of
disseminating it to the press on your planets and to your crews is left to
your discretion.

	"You are informed that at noon today, Sailor Mercury, Sailor Venus,
Sailor Mars, Sailor Jupiter, Sailor Uranus, and Sailor Neptune all submitted
letters of resignation to Her Majesty Queen Serenity II.  The text of these
letters is attached.  They regret the necessity of these resignations, but
feel that they are no longer able to adequately meet the needs of the Moon
Kingdom in this present time of changes.

	The senshi glanced up at a spot above the camera, then back at the
lens.  "At 13:00 local time, Queen Serenity II accepted these resignations,
and announced the immediate commencement of a selection process for those
who would replace the six retired planet senshi.  Further details are
pending, and will be passed along as soon as they become available."

	Sailor Cassiopeia blinked yet again, as if still not believing what
she was saying.  "Inquiries should be sent to Sailor Hyades.  That, um, that
is all."  She quickly reached out and punched the end transmission button,
and the screen blanked.

	Sailor Orion stared at the blank screen.  It was now a matte black,
the sunlight through the windows being absorbed perfectly.  Above it, clocks
ticked serenely.  Absently she noted the time in her memory, and never ever
forgot it: 16:39:33 Nagano-2 Standard Time, 20:01:49 Lunar Standard Time,
11:01:49 Greenwich Mean Time.  The decree permanently setting the Moon and
Royal Star Navy on the same time as that in Japan had been signed some years
before.

	The planet senshi were gone.  The small thought simply ran through
the redhead's head, over and over.  Since before she was born, since before
her mother was born, for centuries and centuries, the planet senshi had been
part of the bedrock of Japanese civilization.  They, along with Neo-Queen
Serenity, were responsible for there even being a Japanese civilization, an
entity distinct from that of the rest of humanity.  They could always be
counted on, always had to be counted on.

	She'd never expected them to retire, she realized.  She'd expected
them simply to keep going and going, never tiring or slackening.  After all,
the planet senshi were the leaders of the rest of the senshi.  Sailor Orion,
Sailor America, and all the others had learned how to do their jobs from
them.  They looked to the planet senshi for guidance.  If they were to . . .
no, now that they *had* gone, there wasn't much leadership to go around. 
Sailor Polaris, the first, was dead.  So were many of the other senior
senshi.  The seniormost was Sailor Mizar, the fourteenth senshi of the class
of 3008, but she was off somewhere in deep space on exploration.

	She turned back and glanced at the civilian visitors, then her naval
subordinates.  They were as shocked as she was, she could see.  Her eyes
went up to meet her fiancee's.

	Sailor America was thrilled.  Her dealings with the planet senshi
had been checkered at best, and her clashes with Sailor Mars had assumed
almost mythic proportions among the newer senshi.  It wasn't that she
disliked them personally.  For the most part they were likable types,
although there were a couple--Sailor Mars and Sailor Uranus--who simply got
under her skin.  Sailors Mercury and Venus were quite easy to get along
with, though.  Sailor Venus in particular was a riot; in old Crystal Tokyo,
the two had spent many lunchtimes trading jokes and stories.  Sailor Venus
always held the edge, though, having been alive far longer than Eileen.

	That was the main thing which set the planet senshi apart, though:
their age.  To Sailor America, and indeed to a significant minority of the
senshi, they represented an age which no longer existed.  They may have
lived to be a thousand, but they had been born and raised in the last twenty
years of the twentieth century.  Sailor America's faction fully respected
the wisdom of the planet senshi, but felt they really had no business
being in command with such outmoded belief systems and ideals.

	Sailor America, in particular, felt no real loyalty to them at all. 
Her oaths were sworn to the Queen, not the senshi.  She could reasonably
fulfill those oaths and say to hell with all the planet senshi, although
realistically speaking the Queen would probably order her to obey their
commands as if they were her own.  In fact, this was exactly the present
situation, with the planet senshi as admirals overseeing all others.

	Their retirement changed everything, though.  The changes which had
begun with the abdication of Neo-Queen Serenity were a good start.  Queen
Serenity II had made definite moves to clean up the Lunar house, but had
been held back to a large degree by the conservative planet senshi.  Now,
the final impediment to true reform was removed.  Sailor America had to
fight to keep a grin from her face.  Things were going to change, and almost
certainly for the better.  There would be opportunities to influence policy,
especially with respect to Earth, and the thought of re-normalizing the
diplomatic situation with North America was enough to make her want to rub
her hands in glee.

	The two senshi looked at each other a long moment.  Silence reigned
over the chamber, broken only by the soft rumble of air circulators and the
intermittent chirps of computers.  "Mister Takimoto, please signal receipt
of Sailor Cassiopeia's message to the appropriate persons," said Sailor
Orion distantly, not even looking at the man.

	"Aye, ma'am," he replied.

	Sailor Orion folded her hands behind her back and walked briskly to
the civilians, who were still looking at her and each other with some
confusion.  "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry, but we're going to have to
conclude our tour here."  She gestured to the lone tactical officer in the
room, a middle-aged lieutenant with touches of gray at the brown hair of her
temples.  "She'll be able to escort you out, and answer any remaining
questions you may have."

	"Ma'am, I-"

	"Do it, Genda-san."

	"Yes, ma'am."  Lieutenant Genda stood and forced a smile, wondering
why her commander was forcing her to play public relations officer.  "Just
this way, please?"  She gestured, then led the civilians out the door. 
Junko was last to walk out, and she turned to give a wave to Sailor America
before passing between the two Marine guards who closed the glass doors
after her.  The click as they closed was clearly audible.

	"Sailor America?"

	"Yes?"  The senshi barely managed to keep from adding 'dear' to her
statement.

	Sailor Orion hopped up to sit on a console, crossing her legs just
a bit too fast for Sailor America to see what lay beneath her skirt.  "You're
in charge of the press release."  She glanced up at the clocks.  "If you
move fast you should be able to beat the Lunar news nets, but just barely. 
We need something official, something reassuring, something that makes it
clear everything is under control."

	Sailor America nodded.  "Right.  Want cheerful or somber?"

	"Eileen . . . ."

	"Okay, okay, somber."  The brunette waved dismissively, walking over
to sit next to her fiancee.  "Don't *worry*, Jen, everything is going to be
all right."

	The redhead sighed.  "I wish I could believe you."

	"You can always believe me.  Remember that."  She kissed Jen on the
cheek.  "I've got a report to write, I'll be over at the studios if you need
me."  With that, she dashed out the door, which barely opened in time to
avoid her.

	Sailor Orion rubbed her forehead, feeling the metal of her tiara
warm on her fingertips.  "Somebody get the three commanders in here,
please."


551 Sakura Drive
2 July 3043
20:01 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	That most rarest of birds arrived in Nagano-2 on Friday, 2 July: a
heat-wave.  Such occurrences weren't unknown, but they were rare enough that
the entire city complained as the afternoon high hit a record-setting
thirty-three degrees C.  It was comparable to a summer in old Japan, and the
old-timers made a show of how it was so much warmer when they grew up.  All
over the city, air conditioning units unaccustomed to such heat were pushed
to the limits of their cooling capacity.  Yusuke Okuma's room was a pleasant
twenty-three centigrade, cool and dry compared to the sticky humidity
outside.

	The half-gallon tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream didn't hurt
either.  Achika swallowed another spoonful of it and sighed in hedonistic
pleasure.  "Kami, this is the best I've ever had.  Where did you get it
from?"

	Yusuke took a spoonful and smiled, waggling a finger at her while he
let the frozen milk and sugar melt in his mouth, relishing the taste. 
"Family secret," he said once he swallowed.

	Achika smirked and hit him with a pillow from his bed, lightly yet
firmly.  "That's no fair, Yusuke-kun!"

	"I don't know, it seems plenty fair to me."

	She lifted the tub threateningly.  "Don't make me dump this over
your head."

	He smiled confidently.  "You wouldn't dare.  You just bought me this
shirt, after all."

	"Oh, you!"  She giggled and put down the tub, taking another large
spoonful and casting a glance at the white shirt in question.  She had in
fact bought it for him as a Queen's Day gift, and it had taken a large bite
out of her allowance savings than she'd anticipated.  Nothing was too good
for her boyfriend, though, and the white polo shirt looked great on him,
with green trim on the cuffs of the short sleeves and on the collar.  It was
a green which, not coincidentally, matched the green of her hair perfectly.

	"Yes, me.  And thank you, again.  I love it."  He rubbed the fabric
between his thumb and forefinger.

	Achika shrugged, leaning back against the side of Yusuke's bed. 
They both sat on the floor, which was covered with a generic beige carpet. 
Typically they never sat on his bed; Achika was a bit worried she'd get
carried away some day on that bed and end up doing things with Yusuke she
wasn't ready for.  Not that she didn't intend on doing those things someday,
but the day had not yet arrived.  "Your gift for me was better." Yusuke had
bought her a new pair of goalkeeper's gloves, and she'd already spent the
last couple days' practices breaking them in.

	"I disagree, but if you say so . . . ."  He picked up a brochure for
one of the premiere hotels on the Moon and leafed through it.  "So you're
still going?"

	Achika nodded, her eyes roving around the room.  It was far neater
than her own room, with everything in its place.  Books were tidily in
bookcases, papers were stacked or in filing cabinets, and all clothes were
either in the rose-colored hamper or hung in the closet.  The room was
exquisitely clean every time she visited, even when unannounced.

	She loved it.

	"Yes.  I mean, just because the planet senshi are retiring is no
reason to cancel the wedding, or even postpone it.  Or at least that's what
Pearcy-san says.  Sakachi-sensei has been so busy she didn't even have a
chance to talk to me yesterday."

	"Really?"  Yusuke's eyes fell upon the large poster of Sailor Venus
which hung on the wall next to his closet door.  "It's weird.  I thought
they'd always be around, y'know?  And now they're-"

	"They aren't dead, Yusuke-kun."  She left her spoon in the ice
cream, sliding over a bit toward him.  Their arms touched, a curious
sensation.  "They're just . . . stepping down."

	Yusuke shrugged, his eyes fixed on the heart-shaped pendant on
Venus's chest.  "I don't know.  It'll be weird, that's all."  He shook his
head, then looked into Achika's eyes.  She was close.  Very close, close
enough to kiss.  "So, when do you leave?"

	Achika pouted.  "Are you that eager to get rid of me?"

	"Of course not!  I just want to know how long I'll have you around
for."

	"In that case . . . hm."  She paused and closed her eyes in thought. 
"The wedding is set for the first of September.  There's a good two weeks of
stuff we have to do before then while on the Moon.  Transit will take a good
week and a half, depending on what ship we're on."  She opened her eyes, a
frown on her face as she looked back at him.  "Just a month and I'll be
leaving, Yusuke-kun."

	Yusuke sighed, his eyes dropping to Achika's hand which rested on
the floor.  "Not long at all," he said somberly.

	Achika blinked, then brightened.  "You know, we're both overlooking
the obvious answer."

	"Answer?"

	"Yes.  Why don't you come with me?"

	Yusuke looked up at her.  "I don't know.  I'm not invited."

	"Oh, come on."  She cuddled a bit closer, resting her chin on his
shoulder.  It was a bit painful, actually, but she wouldn't tell him so. 
"I'm sure Sakachi-sensei and Pearcy-san wouldn't mind, and if you really
want them to they can give you official invitations.  Here's mine, I just
got it today."

	Yusuke watched as she crawled over to her book-bag, which she'd
brought with her so they could do their homework together.  She looked
through it, tossing out a few pens and a couple paperback books--they were
coming back into vogue, as they did every century or so--and emerged with a
square white envelope whose edges were covered with a fine dusting of what
looked like gold.

	"The edges have gold on them," said Achika helpfully.

	Yusuke opened the flap of the envelope and found an assortment of
cards and tissue papers.  The largest card, which folded in half, had two
roses, their stems crossed, on the left hand side of the cover.  The right
center had the embossed heart and crescent, and his eyebrow went up as he saw
the Crown was on it as well.

	She nodded.  "They would have had the invitations out long ago, but
they were working out the details with Luna.  Now that the planet senshi are
gone, I guess they got approval a lot faster."

	"I see."  He opened the card.  The invitation itself was written in
gold on the white card stock, outlined in red.


                          Together with our parents
                          Jennifer and Isao Sakachi
                                     and
                          Marybeth and Mark Pearcy
                                     we,
                          Jennifer Allison Sakachi
                                     and
                               Eileen A Pearcy
                invite you to attend, witness, and celebrate
                        the exchange of marriage vows
                      on Friday, the first of September
                       three thousand and forty-three
                              at twelve o'clock
                          Royal Palace of the Moon
                              Mare Serenitatis
                                    Luna

	"Impressive," said Yusuke after he finished reading.  "Funny, I just
always thought Pearcy-san's parents were, well . . . ."

	Achika nodded.  "Didn't really know anything about them?  I didn't
either, really."

	"So you don't know what they do?"

	"Um . . . hm."  Achika bit down slightly on her lower lip.  "Once, I
sort of overheard her talking to Sakachi-sensei."  She hadn't been proud of
her eavesdropping, but she knew she could confide in her boyfriend. 
"Something about how her father's chiropractic practice was very important
to him."  Achika shrugged.  "I don't think she knows too much either,
honestly.  You know how hard it is getting any communications through to
America these days."

	Yusuke took another look at the invitation.  "If her parents are
listed on the invite, they must be coming.  I wonder how they pulled it off
in so little time, though?"

	Achika smiled slyly, delicately plucking the card from Yusuke's hand
and replacing it in the envelope.  "Pearcy-san can be pretty insistent
sometimes."

	"Well-"  Whatever else he was about to say was cut off by a loud,
insistent banging upon the closed bedroom door.

	"YUSUKE!"

	The two looked at each other and rolled their eyes at the same time. 
Achika stood and straightened her clothes while Yusuke slid over and turned
the doorknob.  It swung inwards, revealing a short, stocky boy of fifteen
years, whose hair was tousled and whose eyes peered from behind a pair of
stylish black-rimmed glasses.  "What do you want, Yoshii?"

	"Does this shirt look okay on me?"  The boy wore an aquamarine
cotton polo shirt, two of the three buttons undone and exposing a small
triangle of pale skin.  The shirt was tucked into khaki shorts which were
held up with a simple black belt, the shorts coming down to his knees.

	Yusuke shrugged.  "I dunno.  It's nothing spectacular."

	"Hm." Achika rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  "Actually, it doesn't
look too bad on you.  Kind of goes well with your eyes."

	Yoshii brightened, adjusting his glasses.  "You really think so?"

	"Yes."  Yoshii had eyes which couldn't quite decide whether to be
blue or green, and more than once Achika had thought to herself how nice it
would be if Yusuke had the same kind of eyes.  "Are you looking to impress
someone, Yoshii-kun?"

	The boy blushed and shifted his weight.  "Um . . . kinda."

	Achika giggled and slid closer to him, ignoring the slight look of
dismay on Yusuke's face.  "Who?

	"It's a secret, okay?"

	"And you can't tell me?"  Achika leaned closer, causing the
adolescent boy to back off even more.  "Come on, Yoshii-kun, I promise I
won't tell anybody."

	"He doesn't have to tell if he doesn't want to."  Yusuke's voice cut
through the air like a knife, causing Achika to turn around in surprise. 
Her boyfriend hadn't moved from his position next to the bed, but his arms
were folded on his chest.  The message was clear: the teasing of his brother
could only be taken so far, and as oldest, he would set the boundaries.

	Achika relented.  "Okay, so you won't say who it is . . . I hope
he's worth it, though."

	Yoshii shrugged and walked into the room, sitting on the bed. 
"Hey!" protested Yusuke, but his younger brother was unperturbed.  The boy
sat cross-legged and looked down at the two with distinct hauteur.  Achika
giggled, resting her head on Yusuke's shoulder.

	"What?" asked Yoshii, poking around Yusuke's book-bag, which lay open
on the bedspread.  "I'm just looking!"

	"Yeah, you're looking in *my* bag!"  Yusuke would have loved to jump
up and lovingly throttle his brother, but he knew Achika tended to get a bit
upset when he resorted to such drastic means, not to mention how irritated
she would be if he were to leap up and let Achika drop to the floor.

	Yoshii stuck his tongue out at him and continued rooting around. 
"You didn't take my handlink, did you?"

	Yusuke blinked at the non sequitor.  "Your handlink?  What would I
want it for?"

	"Well, it's missing, and somebody must have took it."

	"Are you sure it had to be Yusuke-kun?" asked Achika.  She lightly
rubbed Yusuke's right arm, and the older boy felt the tension leak out of
him.  He briefly wondered where she'd learned how to do it.  "Maybe you just
forgot it somewhere?"

	"Nah.  This one always stays home with me."

	"Maybe you should have just gotten the homing feature," said Yusuke,
and Achika nodded in agreement.

	Yoshii shrugged.  "I never thought I'd need it."  
	
	All handlinks were, by definition, connected to the data networks
which crisscrossed the Moon Kingdom and which made the twentieth-century
Internet look like so many tin cans tied together with string.  This was the
nature of handlinks, which everyone took for granted.

	As such, tracking down a handlink should be a simple matter of
taking another handlink or computer and asking it to track down the
communications signature of the missing handlink.  If the handlink was on,
then this was exactly what happened.  If it was off, however, a problem was
created in that there was no way to activate it remotely.  As a security
precaution, the only way to switch on a handlink was by pressing the power
button and entering a passcode specific to each user.

	A way around this was quickly devised.  For a slight fee and minor
internal modification, the handlink could accept signals from external
sources, such as the data net transmitters located all over Nagano-2.  The
disadvantage to this was an unscrupulous data hacker could break through and
activate the handlinks of others.  

	This was part of the price paid when near-infinite computing power
was opened to the masses.  The Moon Kingdom laid heavy penalties on those
who illegally tapped data networks and devices, and hackers of any
sort--especially malicious ones--were very rare, but they did exist, and
some weren't caught right away.  They used networked handlinks and borrowed
time from university mainframes to crack the passwords and encryption which
grew ever-longer and more complex to thwart the hackers.

	For this reason, many people still refused to have their handlinks
modified.  Thus, it wasn't all that irrational for Yoshii to have seen no
need to do so.  Yusuke still felt the normal fraternal need to give his
brother advice and guidance, regardless of how unnecessary Yoshii felt that
guidance to be.  "Besides," he added, "there are only so many places it
could be.  It *has* to be at home somewhere."

	"What makes you so sure about that?" demanded Yusuke.

	"'Cause I only took it out of the house once."


9 Kouka Street
27 June 3043
15:14 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Yoshii rarely visited this part of the neighborhood.  The boy
preferred to spend his time watching the boys' team at Furikato High
practice, but today was a rainy day and he knew the boys' coach--unlike the
girls'--didn't like to work the team in inclement or unpleasant
circumstances.  The boys' team was often disappointing, but from what he
overheard from Achika now and then, they had more fun.

	A drop of water fell on his nose, causing him to sneeze.  He glared
up at the umbrella he held and muttered about not borrowing his mother's
newer umbrella.  His own umbrella had developed several holes.  He
steadfastly denied that they were a result of his jamming said umbrella into
the hazardous environment of his book-bag.  Constant prodding with pens,
pencils, and sharp-edged books had shredded the fabric, which while
wonderfully waterproof wasn't completely durable.

	He quickened his steps, stylish black sneakers shedding the
rainwater like the well-designed feathers evolution had granted the duck. 
They'd cost him four months' allowance, but they fit well and survived
everything he'd thrown at it so far.  They left faint, fading footprints on
the wet surface of the sidewalk as he turned onto Kouka Street.  Kouka was
one of the larger streets in the neighborhood, and traffic was not
insignificant.  Passing cars threw up sprays of rainwater, and Yoshii loved
it.  It made him feel alive.

	Finally, he arrived.  The yard was neat and tidy, though smaller
than most.  A basketball hoop stood to one side of the driveway, its net
soaked.  The garage was closed, the windows of the house shut.  It was very
much like it had been the last time he'd visited, aside from the weather.

	He knocked on the door, feeling terribly self-conscious.  He felt a
bit better when Takeshi's sister opened the door.

	"Hi Yoshii-san," said Yuki brightly.  She bowed and stepped aside. 
"Please come in, you must be soaked."

	"Thanks."  Yuki smiled, taking his umbrella and placing it in the
bucket next to the door.  Since her mother's death during the alien invasion
two years previous, Yuki had essentially become the woman of the house. 
While still too young to take the commanding role a woman would normally
have in domestic affairs, she still enjoyed playing hostess on the occasion
of visitors like Yoshii.

	"So," continued Yoshii as he slipped off his sneakers and put on a
pair of guest slippers, "how are you doing at school?"

	"Pretty good.  I hate math, though.  Hey, ani-chan!" she yelled up
the stairway.  "Yoshii-san is here!"

	Yoshii blushed.  "You, um, didn't need to go to all that."

	"No, I don't mind.  Ani-chan!"  She stomped up the stairs, leaving
Yoshii alone in the living room.  It was mostly nondescript, and he was
hard-pressed to find anything very interesting.  There were merely the usual
household knick-knacks: figurines, pictures of children, a few ceremonial
sake cups.  One of the first things he'd noticed the first time he was here
was the lack of any pictures of Takeshi's mother.

	Yoshii sighed and tried to make himself comfortable on the high
cream couch which dominated the room.  He kicked his heels against its
bottom, then stopped when he considered how rude it would be.  Standing, he
made a few brief circuits about the room.  His back was thus toward Takeshi
as the older boy lightly stepped down the stairs.  "Yoshii-kun?"

	"Takeshi-san!"  Yoshii literally jumped at the sound of Takeshi's 
voice.  The landing jostled a handlink out of Yoshii's pocket.

	"Looks like you dropped something, Yoshii-kun."  His deep voice set
off flutters in Yoshii's belly as he stooped to pick up the device.

	"Um, um, yes," stammered Yoshii.  Silently he berated himself, trying
to slow his breathing.  Unfortunately, he had little success.  "I was, erm,
there was something I needed advice on."

	Takeshi sauntered over next to Yoshii.  He smelled slightly of soap
and shampoo, and Yoshii casually draped a hand in front of his groin. 
"Advice?" asked Takeshi, raising an eyebrow.  "You've been coming here for
advice at least once a week for a month, now."  He smiled easily and sat on
the couch.  "So, what is it?  Sugimura-sensei giving you problems again?"
Sugimura was a teacher Takeshi had a couple years before, and since their
meeting at a football match Takeshi had given Yoshii tips on how to handle
the often cantankerous pedagogue.

	"No, it's not that," he said slowly.  "There's a person I like a
lot, and, well, I thought you might want to see what I want to say to h--the
person."

	A slightly confused expression crossed Takeshi's face.  "Me? 
Yoshii-kun, if you're going to write someone love letters, I'm the last
person you'd want to ask."  He chuckled with little humor.  "I certainly
haven't had any luck nabbing cute guys."

	"You nabbed me," Yoshii muttered under his breath.  Louder: "Well,
could you look at it anyway?  It's really short, and . . . well, I would
have asked Achika-san, but, well, I don't know."

	"You want a man's opinion of it."

	"Yes."

	Takeshi shrugged.  "I don't see why not, I guess."

	"Great," murmured Yoshii.  

	He handed over the handlink.  Takeshi reached for the on switch,
then thought better of it and stood.  "C'mon, let's go up to my room. 
Yuki-chan has a way of listening around corners sometimes."

	"Not true," growled his sister from the dining room.  

	Takeshi laughed and trotted halfway up the stairs, then paused and
looked down at Yoshii.  "Coming?" The younger boy nodded mutely and followed
Takeshi up to his room.  

	It was a bit more Spartan than the living room. The walls were a
plain white, with a single poster on each wall.  The window curtains were
drawn shut, and Takeshi flicked on a light switch as he entered.  Yoshii saw
the posters more clearly in the warm yellow light of the lamp on Takeshi's
desk, and blinked as he saw they were all recruitment posters.  Tall, slim,
confident, and superbly lethal men and women looked back from them,
resplendent in black, green, and gold dress uniforms.  One in particular
caught Yoshii's eye; the katakana at the bottom implored the reader to 'join
the most effective fighting force in the galaxy.'

	"Just grab yourself a seat, I want to get my grammar checking suite
off my handlink." Takeshi waved in the general direction of a wooden stool
which sat in a corner of the room.  Yoshii raised an eyebrow at the white
and red electric guitar which leaned against it.  "Oh, you can move that out
of the way.  It's a Bando model, you don't have to be gentle."

	Yoshii breathed in sharply.  Bunzo Bando was one of the thirtieth
century's greatest guitarists, and more or less a Japanese rock idol. 
Though retired, he still made a great deal of money off residuals from his
recordings, and also produced a line of guitars.  Bando model guitars were
famous for their durability; one of Bando's trademarks on the stage was to
smash his guitar on the stage hard and often.  It took sturdy construction
for an instrument to survive such a beating and stay in tune, and Bando had
perfected the technique.  Despite such assurances, Yoshii moved the guitar
aside with reverence, wondering all the while how much it had cost him.

	"Three hundred Royal yen," said Takeshi, seeing how Yoshii looked at
the guitar.  "Mother bought it for me for my sixteenth birthday . . . she
didn't live long enough to give it to me personally, though." He looked at
one of the posters, this one featuring a male Marine and a female Navy
officer.  "I haven't played it in awhile.  I guess I'm out of practice by
now."

	Yoshii looked back at Takeshi, whose green eyes were dim and
distant.  Part of him yearned to reach out and support him, but the larger
and more vocal part insisted to simply stay out of it.  Takeshi had had two
years to deal with the loss, it was best to assume he could handle it.  "I'd
like to hear you play some time."

	Takeshi shrugged.  "Maybe."  He shook his head twice, then went to
his desk, pulling out the second drawer from the top and taking out a
handlink.  "Okay, it's on."  He took Yoshii's link and connected to his own
handlink, nodding in approval as Yoshii's handlink accepted the grammatical
checker.  "It's not that I don't trust your writing, I just like my program. 
I wrote it myself, it'll handle pretty much any mistake you can make."

	"Um, okay."  Yoshii sat on the stool, legs spread, then realized his
present state and promptly clamped his legs back together.  Takeshi seemed
not to notice at all, however.  He read with a palpable intenseness, leaning
slightly against his desk and making no stray movements.  Yoshii blinked;
Takeshi's unmitigated coolness was one of the things which attracted him to
Takeshi.  It was a bit unnerving at times to watch an adolescent so
motionless.

	Abruptly, Takeshi brought his head up from his reading and stared at
Yoshii with an intensity which nearly knocked him back off his stool.  He
felt unaccountably like a deer caught in headlights before Takeshi blinked
and the moment was gone.  "You really wrote this?"

	"Of *course* I wrote it!" replied Yoshii.  "Quotation snipping
programs are for lamers."  He leaned forward.  "You like it?"

	Takeshi shrugged, glancing over the text again.  "It's rather long. 
Probably too long, actually, and repetitive at times.  You don't vary your
words enough, so you keep calling him a likable person.  And I think you
could do with shortening your sentences a bit.  Very long sentences are kind
of hard to understand.

	"As for the language . . . I'm sorry, but if I was this guy I'd be
more embarrassed than anything.  There's flattery, and there's admiration,
and this is just way overboard." Takeshi looked Yoshii directly in the eyes,
and there was no condemnation or anger in his expression--simply candor.  He
wasn't one for polishing the truth.

	Yoshii managed to keep a steady expression, though he felt as if
Achika had delivered a goal kick straight into his stomach.  The rejection
was almost physical in nature, and he fought an instinctive desire to double
over.

	"Yoshii-kun?"  Takeshi walked over and handed him the handlink. 
"I'm sorry if I was harsh, but you really should go back and rewrite this. 
Otherwise you're likely to scare him off, okay?"

	The black-haired boy remained silent, and the redhead sighed. 
"Trust me, Yoshii-kun.  Rewrite it the right way, and he'll be yours.  It
just takes a bit of practice."

	"I guess so.  Um, I'll be going now."  He stood, setting the
handlink on the stool, then looking down at the bare hardwood floor.

	"Are you all right?  You look like you're-"

	"I love you, Takeshi-san!"  It was the hardest thing he'd said in
his life, but it was said.  He thundered out the room and fled down the
stairs and out the door, unwilling to look at the expression on Takeshi's
face as he ran.


551 Sakura Drive
2 July 3043
20:37 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"I see," said Achika, once Yoshii finished relating these events to
them, "and you just left it there?"

	"He handed it back the next day.  Actually, he just tried.  I ran
away."

	"You *what*!"  Achika was aghast.

	"I ran.  And then he left it on the front porch."

	"And?" prompted Yusuke.

	He shrugged.  "I dunno.  I come in the back door now."  Achika and
Yusuke glanced at each other.  Then Yusuke sighed and flopped down on the
floor, holding his forehead.  "What?"

	"You need more backbone," said Achika firmly, and Yusuke nodded in
agreement.  "If you love him, why didn't you try again?  Write another
letter?"

	Yoshii looked away.  "He doesn't want me."

	"You don't know that."  Yoshii didn't answer this.  Achika frowned. 
She recognized the look in Yoshii's eyes; it was the same look Yusuke had
when he'd been beaten soundly in chess, or scored poorly on an exam, or felt
he'd done something to make Achika angry at him.  In those situations, she
usually tried to resolve the situation physically.  Touches were more
telling than words, and a hug did more to patch things up than a five minute
diatribe from her or hours with a therapist.  And a kiss was, well, ideal.

	It hurt her to see Yoshii hurt in such a way, but at the same time
she was acutely aware he was her boyfriend's brother.  What she'd do to
cheer Yusuke couldn't be used with Yoshii.  Thus, she settled for moving
over to the boy and giving him what she hoped as a simple, sisterly hug. 
She'd never had a brother, and he'd never had a sister, but surprisingly it
worked well.  She felt his tense muscles relax slightly.  Not
completely--there was still a hint of awkwardness about it, and more than a
little of being unaccustomed to this sort of behavior--but it would have to
do.  It was a start.

	"So," said Yoshii after some time, "can I have some ice cream?"


Room 4
Inner Sanctum of the Planet Senshi and Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
2 July 3043
12:49 Lunar Standard Time

	Moving is always a long, hard, and often tedious task.  It is the
uprooting of one's life from the comfortable, known set of rooms one has
lived in for years, and the relocation to a new set of unfamiliar, possibly
hostile environs.

	Rei Hino had moved more in the last decade than she had in the
millennium before.  First the rather traumatic relocation from the Crystal
Palace, where she'd lived comfortably since its building in the
twenty-second century, then this.

	She put down the armful of sweaters and long-sleeved blouses she'd
pulled from her closet, and wandered over to the full-length mirror which
hung on the cedar wood wall.

	A young woman looked back at her, no more than twenty years old,
wearing a set of pink overalls and a simple white t-shirt with the sigil of
Mars embroidered on the left breast.  Her ears were without adornment, and
her silky black hair ran its usual path down her shoulders and back.  The
eyes blinked once, then twice, deep violet and telling the tale of seeing
far more than any human should have to see.

	"Happy moving day," she said to the woman in the mirror, and the
woman in the mirror matched her moves perfectly.  She smiled slightly,
rubbing her fingertips along the smooth glass.  It was a special
low-friction design Ami had designed for her, and her fingers simply slid
over it, leaving no grease or oils.  She'd have to see about moving it as
well.

	The door chime chirped.  "Come in," she said.  Anyone on this level
wouldn't bother knocking unless they belonged there.

	"Oh, hi there."  The door, which was paneled in cedar but was
actually made from solid titanium and designed to hold up against vacuum,
slid open soundlessly, and Makoto peered in.  "Mind if I come in?"

	"Sure.  Join the party."

	Makoto chuckled, a rich sound, and walked in.  She wore jeans and a
green sweatshirt with a single broad white stripe in the middle.  "You're
all busy with moving too?"

	Rei sighed and sat in an overstuffed red armchair, and gestured for
Makoto to take a seat as well.  The tall brunette searched around, but all
the chairs and couches were taken by boxes and bags of clothes, clothes, and
more clothes.  "Kami, Rei-chan, you have more clothes than Minako-chan." She
settled for a rocking chair which only held a garment bag and an acoustic
guitar, and moved both to the floor.  "I never see you wear them."

	"Most of them are gifts," said Rei.  "I'm always in senshi gear,
unless I'm at the shrine."

	"Yes, I know."  A pause, then they both laughed.  By now both knew
almost everything about the rest of the senshi, and it was entirely possible
they'd had this same exchange several times before in the past thousand
years.  Deja vu was a near-universal condition among planet senshi.  "So, I
guess you're doing the same thing I am."

	Rei gave Makoto a nod and crossed her legs.  "Packing.  I could have
gotten someone to do it for me, but . . . ."

	"Yeah, I know.  It's something you have to do yourself."  Makoto
grinned and wiggled her fingers.  "I was working in my garden all morning."

	The black-haired woman raised an eyebrow.  "You're moving it?"

	"Oh, right, I didn't tell you."  Makoto's expression softened.  "I'm
going to Ganymede."

	"Ganymede?"  Rei stared at her friend in surprise.  "I thought
Ganymede-"

	"-was Russia's bailiwick?  Yes, it was, but I managed to talk them
out of it."

	"I don't want to know how you pulled that off."

	Makoto smiled slightly.  "I didn't twist any arms, trust me.  I just
offered to terraform the planet, in return for a few environmental
regulations, and giving me a continent once I'm done." She said it very
blithely; it took several seconds for its impact to hit home.  Makoto's
green eyes shone with excitement as she nodded in confirmation of Rei's
thought.  "Yep.  Ami-chan agreed to help, and Her Majesty is giving me
permission to go ahead."

	Rei stared at Makoto in amazement.  "You're kidding."

	"Nope.  Ami-chan is already putting the equations into the
computers, Ziggy should have the preliminary results in a few weeks.  It
should take a century or so, total."

	Terraformation remained a science-fiction concept for hundreds of
years before the first work was done on making Mars and Venus habitable. 
The problems had, of course, been worried over and discussed millions of
times: how to make Venus cooler, and Mars warmer.  The solutions, while
simple in theory--fix the carbon dioxide in Venus's atmosphere while
blocking out the sun, and increasing the atmospheric pressure of Mars while
inducing a greenhouse effect and using solar lenses there--in practice had
taken the Crystal Millennium many years and a substantial amount of its
economic resources.

	What few outside the Crystal Palace realized at the time was that
there were two options for terraformation.  The first, worked out by Ami
Mizuno and an army of researchers, was the technological one.  The second
was worked out by Ami and Makoto Kino, and involved using Sailor Mercury's
control of water and Sailor Jupiter's control of life--such as trees--to
magically bring the two planets to a livable state.  In Mars's case, she'd
accommodated her model to include Sailor Mars providing heat.

	After much discussion and debate, the first option was picked.  The
technological solution was slightly more proven, and Neo Queen Serenity
hadn't wanted to flaunt the magical abilities of her senshi too much.  Now
it seemed a full-up magical test of terraformation would occur after all,
and right in Makoto's neighborhood.

	"Wow," said Rei finally.  "I'm happy for you, Mako-chan."

	"Thanks," smiled Makoto.  "It would be an honor if you could help,
of course."

	"That depends on what I'll be doing."

	Makoto sighed.  "Don't tell me you're still thinking about going off
with Haruka-san and Michiru-san on their trip."

	"No thanks!" said Rei quickly.  "I'd prefer to stay in our solar
system.  I don't see any reason to go to another star."

	"Oh, good."

	"I was thinking of asking the Queen Mother for help, actually."
Makoto looked at her fiery counterpart for a long moment.  "No, Mako-chan. 
It's not because of that." Makoto's gaze didn't turn away, and a touch of
anger came to Rei's eyes.  "Look, I would have told her if I could, okay? 
Some people don't have the *luxury* of having the object of their affections
available."

	Makoto shrugged.  "True enough.  Do you still want me to believe
you?"

	"Of course I do."  Rei would have said more, but the door chimed
again.

	"Come in!" called out Rei, wondering who it might be.  Then twin
teleport signatures appeared in the center of the room, resolving themselves
into a woman with long blonde hair, orange shorts, and a white polo shirt,
along with another woman with short blue hair, wearing dark blue running
shorts and a lighter blue long-sleeved polo.

	Minako looked at the two seated senshi and giggled.  "The four inner
senshi, together again."

	"When was the last time we were all in the same place?" asked Ami,
walking over and clearing room on a rickety stool made from the wood of a
cherry tree, then pulling it over to sit next to Makoto.

	"Aside from the Black Moon War?"  Rei closed her eyes and thought
for a long moment, then opened them again.  "2776.  I remember, because at
our last poker game Minako-chan said something about it being the one
thousandth anniversary of the United States."

	"Why'd we stop, anyway?"  Minako leaned against the door frame, arms
folded on her chest.  "I really had fun at those games."  The other senshi
nodded assent.

	Makoto shrugged.  "Well, if we all feel that way, there's no reason
we shouldn't.  We'll all be in-system."

	Rei glanced at Minako.  "You're staying too?"

	The blonde giggled.  "I always wanted to be an idol singer.  Now I
get my chance!"  She smiled and posed with a V.  The others face faulted.

	Rei leaned back in her chair and watched the other three.  A faint
smile came to her lips, watching the senshi she'd lived with the longest. 
"I'll be front row at your first concert, Minako-chan."

	"Thanks.  Actually, my first will be on Ganymede; I'm already trying
to find a contractor to build a stage, and we'll get all sorts of people to
come!" Minako sighed.  "I don't know.  It's kind of hard to believe it'll be
over."

	"She's not taking away our powers," said Ami.

	"Yeah, I guess.  But no more sailor fuku."  She glanced at Makoto. 
"Can you imagine waking up in the morning and not being able to transform
into Sailor Jupiter?"

	Makoto looked down at her jeans.  "Don't tell me you *liked* running
around in that short skirt for a thousand years!"

	"Well, the guys liked it.  Lots of girls, too," she added with a
wink.

	"Right.  Well, as long as I can still control my abilities, I guess
I can survive not being a senshi."  She smiled slightly at the odd look Rei
gave her.  "I've had time to get used to the fact."

	She had, actually.  She'd even gone through the five stages of
grief: first, the dumbfounding shock of being told by her Queen, her leader,
and her friend that her services would no longer be required.  At the time
she'd fought the urge to ask for confirmation, to make sure it wasn't some
sort of nightmare.

	Then she, like almost all the planet senshi, was angry.  Angry at
the Queen for firing her, angry at Sailors Saturn and Pluto for keeping
their jobs, angry at herself for having so clearly failed her Queen.  How
dare she be dismissed after centuries of faithful service?  She, one of the
founders of Crystal Tokyo, who had defended it from all enemies and all
comers, was to be cast aside, however politely, like a tool which had
outlived its usefulness.  How dare she show such favoritism to those two
senshi?  What had they done to deserve it?  Worst of all, what had she,
Makoto Kino, Sailor Jupiter, done to deserve this?  How could she have
disappointed her sovereign so greatly?  She hated herself for it, and more
than once she had taken one of her cherished, advanced alloy knives and held
it to her wrist.  Each time she held back, though, too furious at herself
for her weakness to permit herself such an escape.

	After this came the bargaining.  In Makoto's case, this took the
form of going over the Queen's head.  Her pride wouldn't allow her to beg
for her job from the woman she'd watch grow up from diapers.  So she'd
petitioned to the Queen Mother, and met with a woman who stood foursquare
with her daughter.  Serenity I was totally unwilling to go behind Serenity
II's back, and made it totally clear who ruled the Moon Kingdom.  There,
Makoto had begged anyway, but it made no difference.

	It was then the knives came out in earnest.  Depression wracked her,
and only Ami's advice and support kept her from using it on herself.  Now
she accepted her fate.  Even if her seifuku was taken away, she was still
Makoto Kino, and she could still make a difference.  Her work on Ganymede in
the next century or two would do just that.

	She gazed levelly at Rei.  "Have you gotten used to it, Rei-chan?"

	Rei looked away and into the mirror.  In it she could see Makoto's
reflection next to Ami's, and her open closet door.  "There are no rainy
days on the Moon," she said simply.  "Funny, isn't it?  Eight years, and
I've never had a rainy day." The others remained silent.  "I don't know that
I can forgive her.  It hurts."

	The silence stretched uncomfortably, none of the other women willing
to make the first move.  Finally, it was Minako who reached out a slim hand
to the raven-haired ex-senshi.  "It can rain on Ganymede, Rei-chan.  You can
help."

	"Great, make it rain so I can indulge my depressing self and walk in
a rainstorm?" A wry, sarcastic smile made a thin line on her face, but her
eyes brimmed with tears.

	Minako tossed her head and shrugged slightly.  "Why not?"


Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
2 July 3043
14:01 Lunar Standard Time

	"So that's another one going to Ganymede."  Queen Serenity II leaned
back in her plush pink chair and smiled, arms folded on her chest.

	"I still don't understand why they want Ganymede," said Diana
softly.  The cat lay on the smooth mahogany table in the Queen's personal
library, a small collection of eight hundred or so books on a couple
bookshelves.  With its low ceiling, perfect soundproofing, and overstuffed
chairs, it was the Queen's favorite place to relax when she was in an
intellectual mood.  This was rather often, actually, and some of the books
she possessed would raise the eyebrows of her critics on Earth.

	The gray cat slowly rose to her feet, then paced the short length of
the table, her tail flirting in the air with an air of confusion.  "Yes, I
understand why they want a challenge, and I understand Venus and Mars aren't
exactly available.  But Ganymede?  Why not Mercury, or even the Moon
itself?" Diana persisted in refusing to refer to it as Luna; it was bad
enough her mother shared a name with the planetoid they all lived in without
having to say it aloud.

	The two other occupants of the room glanced at each other, red eyes
meeting purple.  "I guess they just want to be close to me," said Serenity
II finally.  "They still want to protect me . . . and perhaps try to throw
more wrenches in my reform package."

	"Doubtful," disagreed Sailor Saturn.  Her tone was thoughtful, not
challenging, and her left index finger tapped absently on the tabletop as
she looked at the spines of the books on the far wall without reading their
titles.  "They just don't want to leave home, Usagi-chan." It felt weird
using the familiar term with someone else in attendance.  After all, her
engagement with the Queen had only been for a couple days.  Diana was the
only one who knew--aside from Serenity I and Endymion, who had been quick to
give their blessing to the union, and just as quick to accede to Serenity
II's request for secrecy.  There was a limit to how much news the Moon
Kingdom could handle at one time, after all.  Later, after things died down
a bit, their engagement would be made public, but for now . . . "Not to say
they don't like you, because they do.  We all do, no matter how much some of
us disagree with you.

	"That said . . . well, you *did* fire them."  She softened her words
with a smile, but her eyes were serious.  "It's not like we . . . they can
just ignore that.  Staying at Mare Crisium would just remind them of what
you did."

	The Queen shrugged and took her arms from her chest, folding her
arms in her lap instead and exposing her white blouse with blue trim.  Under
the table was a plain blue skirt which she rubbed with her thumb, feeling
the fabric as she went against its grain.  "Mare Crisium isn't the only
place on Luna.  They could have gone to the Palace, spent some time with
Mother."

	"We hate the Palace.  You know that," she chided softly.

	"Especially the throne room," chirped Diana.  "Half the Palace staff
swears it's haunted."

	"Half the Palace staff is wrong."  The Queen made a show of
stretching casually and glancing at the antique analog clock on the wall
above one shelf.  "The only thing haunting the throne room is memories."

	"Memories which are still fresh for us," said Sailor Saturn softly. 
"I know it's harder for you to understand, Usagi-chan.  You didn't have to
die and be reborn like the rest of us."  The Queen reached out her hand
across the table and placed it on Sailor Saturn's white glove, feeling the
pain in her fiancee's voice.  

	Sailor Saturn paused a moment, drawing strength from the simple
physical contact.  "It's . . . very difficult, having to be in a place where
you know you died.  Even if you know it's all ancient history,
intellectually, it still chills our hearts." Sailor Saturn smiled.  "In a
way I envy you, Usagi-chan.  You're younger than all of us, you've never had
to worry about reincarnation."

	"And hopefully you never will," interjected Diana.  Sailor Saturn
nodded in vigorous assent.

	"Well, I'll definitely try my best," said the Queen with a smile. 
The other two relaxed as well.  "But still, if they have the entire Moon to
choose from, they must know that choosing to go clear past the Belt is a bit
of a snub."

	"Maybe, maybe not."  Diana paced back and forth on the table, her
tail now swaying periodically.  "Perhaps they feel this is what you wanted. 
This way they can make it clear that they don't want to interfere in how you
do business.  At the same time, they're close enough for you to call upon in
the event of a crisis."

	"The inner senshi are, at least," replied Serenity II.  "The
outers-"

	"Are outer, yes."  Sailor Saturn's expression became neutral, with
only a hint of apology.  "Uranus and Neptune have always gone their own way. 
Perhaps they'll find their own happiness on a new world."

	"Which leaves you and Pluto."

	"Which leaves me and Pluto," agreed the senshi.

	"Which brings me to another topic.  Senshi selection."  She nodded
to Diana, who hopped down from the table and padded out the room.  "We need
to decide how to pick the new planet senshi."

	Sailor Saturn blinked.  "Um, I was under the impression that we'd
select them from the ranks of existing senshi.  It would make the most
sense." She flicked a handlink from nowhere and started pressing buttons. 
"In fact, I made a list-"

	"No.  I have something different in mind."

	"Different?"

	"Yes."  She glanced at the open door.  Right on cue, Sailor Shaula
walked in, Diana at her feet.  The senshi bowed slightly to the seated
Sailor Saturn, then dropped a curtsy to her monarch.  "Good afternoon, Your
Majesty, Sailor Saturn.  You wished to speak to me of the senshi selection?"

	Serenity II nodded twice.  "Right.  Have a seat, make yourself
comfortable.  We have lots of work to do."  She waited while the blue and
silver senshi picked a plain wooden armchair and shifted a bit, trying to
find a proper way to sit.  Senshi uniform didn't provide a great deal of
padding.

	Sailor Shaula took out her handlink and placed it on the table,
waiting as it sprang to life automatically.  She gave it a quick glance to
make sure the proper set of notes blinked on, then nodded to the Queen. 
"Would you like to hear my suggestions first?"

	"Um, not quite."  Serenity II fought to keep herself from an
embarrassing blush.  "I haven't exactly explained things to Sailor Saturn
fully."

	"Oh."  Sailor Shaula sat back and waited, her gray eyes looking at
Serenity II for permission to proceed.

	The Queen learned forward slightly.  "I agree, picking existing
senshi makes a lot of sense.  They're already experienced, won't need
acclimation to the way we do things.  The problem with that is that we're
already stretching our senshi.  I don't need to remind you how many were
lost in the 3035 war."  Sailor Saturn nodded.  "Those we have are needed for
colony defense purposes, as well as commanding our capital ships."

	"Right, and if your naval expansion plan gets put into effect we'll
need more," said Sailor Shaula.  She blushed slightly at the glare from her
Queen, but stood her ground.  "I just thought Sailor Saturn might appreciate
a full understanding of the situation."

	"I was getting to that," said Serenity II.

	"Sorry!"

	Serenity II sighed.  "Anyway.  As Sailor Shaula said, the new class
of carriers and capital ships will require more senshi to man their magical
weapons systems.  That will probably mean pulling some of the reserves we
keep on the Moon.  While I appreciate the need of maintaining an adequate
strategic reserve, especially when it comes to someone as effective in
combat as a senshi . . . there's no point letting them go to waste here, is
there?"

	The senshi of silence frowned slightly.  "I'm not sure, honestly.  I
see your point, but if there were an attack on Luna from extraterrestrials,
then we'd be in trouble."

	"The planet senshi could handle it,  That's their job, after all;
sometimes I wonder if Mother went a bit far in increasing the number of
senshi.  I mean, aside from the edge it gave us in 3035 I don't know if it's
ever helped."

	"If we didn't have that edge, Crystal Tokyo would have fallen,"
Sailor Saturn pointed out dryly.

	"Well, there is that too."  Her mouth quirked into a smile.  "In any
case, I think the planet senshi and whatever ships happen to be in-system at
the time will be able to handle things.  That will free senshi for our
expansion for new ships and colonies, but it still leaves us the problem of
new planet senshi.  As I see it, there's only one other source."  Serenity
II leaned back and let Sailor Saturn reach the inevitable conclusion.

	The purple clad senshi knew better than to ask if she was joking. 
"You want to restart the School."

	"Not quite."  She nodded to Sailor Shaula.  The younger woman
glanced over to Sailor Saturn and addressed her.

	"Admittedly, the plan has a few bugs to be worked out, but given how
quickly we've had to move, I like what we have.  There will be no universal
test; we don't have the time.  Nor will there be a School as such.  Again,
time is a factor, but more importantly . . . there will be very few
teachers."

	Something in Sailor Shaula's tone set off alarm bells in Sailor
Saturn's head.  "How few?"

	"One."  A pause.  "You, ma'am."

	"No."  She shook her head, black hair swaying back and forth with
the movements.  "Your Majesty, I'm not an educator, not even close. 
Kami-sama, even when we had the School I dreaded going there!"

	"The outer senshi have held their titles longer than any other
senshi.  Longer than the inner senshi, even if it's just by a few weeks."
Sailor Shaula glanced down at her notes briefly.  "As it happens, your
lectures were better received than were anyone else's but Sailor Pluto's."

	"Well, why not let Sailor Pluto teach?"

	"She has a timestream to look after," answered the Queen.  "Besides,
you're a far better fighter, and our new senshi will need the best fighter
available to teach them."

	Sailor Saturn glared at Sailor Shaula.  The junior senshi
immediately shrank back in her seat, barely able to make herself face those
eyes.  "You still haven't told me just how we'll pick these senshi."

	Sailor Shaula blinked and looked at the Queen.  "I think Her Majesty
should tell you."

	The Queen maintained a neutral expression, though her eyes were
bright and full of mirth.  Sometimes it was fun to goad her fiancee; Sailor
Saturn was just so cute when she was angry.  Not truly angry, of
course--those who dared to bring Sailor Saturn to full fury rarely lived
long enough to regret it--but just angry enough to bring the familiar
narrowing of Saturn's eyes.  Then she remembered they weren't alone.

	"Sailor Shaula has a list of six places from which the senshi will
be chosen.  I asked Mother for advice on this, but I also went on instinct. 
I tried to pick places which have had very good leadership in the past, and
whose people have good character."  She glanced at the younger senshi.

	"Right.  Sailor Mercury will be chosen from the colony of Hinansho,
as will Sailor Uranus.  Sailor Venus will be from Venus.  Sailor Mars will
be from Mars, Sailor Jupiter from Africa, and Sailor Neptune will be from
the Moon."

	"You're probably wondering why I picked that arrangement," said the
Queen.

	"'Wondering' is a very mild way of putting it, Your Majesty."

	"Thought so.  Okay, I'll go backwards.  A Lunar Sailor Neptune will
bring to the outer senshi an element of life in the inner system.  I know
one of the problems we had between the inner and outer senshi previously was
lack of any really common bond.  They tended not to cooperate except in
extreme situations.  While we got through those extreme situations, it was
still trying the rest of the time.  I think that by pulling someone from the
inner system, here at the capital, we can provide a bridge between the outer
senshi and inner system sensibilities.  I'll choose her personally, though I
don't intend for her to realize it."

	Sailor Saturn thought a moment, then nodded.  What seemed outlandish
at the outset made a bit more sense in that perspective.  She wasn't
convinced it might not be better to choose someone from the colonies, 
but . . . , "okay, and Uranus?"

	"In due time.  I'll simply say that one reason I picked a colony was
because someone from the colonies would be more suited the the outsider
mentality of the outers.

	"Now then, Sailor Jupiter will be from Africa.  This decision I'll
leave in the hands of you, Sailor Saturn, so please choose wisely.  Sailor
Jupiter is traditionally the strongest of the inner senshi, and therefore it
will be a strong symbolic move to build ties with Earth." She grinned and
rocked back in her chair.  "And I have to admit to some small amount of
pleasure in picking from the poorest continent on Earth.  It shows who I'm
most willing to deal with.  Oh, right," she said quickly, glancing at Diana,
"remind Cassiopeia to really promote that when we go public." The gray cat
nodded her understanding.

	"Pretty good so far," said Sailor Saturn.  "I can understand Sailors
Venus and Mars."

	"Yes.  I'll let the governors of those planets handle that.  I was
tempted to let the present senshi make those selections, but I really do
want a clean break."

	"You're letting the governors make the choices?"  Saturn's eyebrow
went up in surprise.

	"With the advice of Sailors Wezea and Mirzam, respectively," replied
the Queen levelly.

	Sailor Saturn twiddled her thumbs for a moment, deep in thought.  "I
really think you should allow Venus and Mars to pick their replacements."

	"If I let them pick their replacements, what reason do I have to
keep the others from picking their own?  This is the only way, I'm sorry."

	"I suppose you're right."  Sailor Saturn sighed and looked back down
at the table.  "Okay.  Sailor Mercury from Hinansho?  And Sailor Uranus?"

	The Queen grinned.  "One of my strokes of brilliance, I think."

	Sailor Saturn gave her monarch a mock scowl.  "I'll believe that
when I hear it."  Sailor Shaula giggled, then immediately assumed a serious
posture at the glances from her two superiors.

	"I like it," said Serenity II.  "Sailor America and Sailor Orion are
two of our best senshi.  You can't really deny that; Hinansho has one of the
best efficiency records of any colonial military, they distinguished
themselves in that alien business a couple years back--and still oversee the
only center we have for extraterrestrial sentient life research--and have
generally been the best."  She shrugged.  "If I were to take your suggestion
and draft from existing senshi--and believe me, Diana here tried her best to
talk me into it--they'd be the first two.  Sailor Orion in particular would
make an excellent Jupiter, America would be perfect as Mars.

	"But they fit into Hinansho.  I don't want to tear them from
everything they've built there.  So the next best thing I can do is trust
their judgment.  Who better to pick two of our next senshi than two of our
best?"

	Sailor Saturn pondered.  On the one hand, Serenity II did have a
point: Sailors Orion and America were definitely the cream of the crop where
the new senshi were concerned.  Perhaps they hadn't been before, and perhaps
they wouldn't be now if the 3035 war hadn't cut the senshi ranks in half,
but it had, and they were.  If anyone was qualified to choose senshi
material, it was they.

	On the other hand, it struck her as a bit unwise to pick two senshi
from such a far-flung planet as Hinansho.  The planet really had nothing to
suggest itself, aside from skiing resorts and turkey production.  It simply
wasn't important in the way that, say, Panwakusei was.  Picking one senshi
from there made sense, picking two stuck her as a way to give the two
Hinansho senshi too much power in shaping the new senshi team.

	She said nothing about this, though.  "Okay.  It's your decision,
and you know I'll support it.  I just hope you know what you're doing."

	The Queen twirled a pink ponytail around her right index finger. 
"Oh, I do.  I'll be informing them of their responsibilities later today,
actually." She smiled, and for some reason the simple facial expression sent
a chill down Sailor Saturn's spine.  "I expect one of those decisions will
surprise them, though."

	"Which?"

	"Sailor Mercury will be male."

	There followed a long pause.

	"I must not have heard you right . . . what did you say, Your
Majesty?"

	"Sailor Mercury will be male," repeated Serenity II with an impish
grin, delight dancing in her red eyes.

	Sailor Saturn looked around the room.  Sailor Shaula had a look of
defeat on her face, as if she'd tried to battle her Queen on the issue and
failed; Diana seemed resigned as well.  The books were, as ever, impassive. 
"Your Majesty . . . while I appreciate more than most your desire and
willingness to turn the entire Moon Kingdom on its ear, I don't think you've
taken into account the small fact that *men can't be senshi*!"

	Queen Serenity II smiled.  "Says who?"

	"Says . . . says . . . says precedent," finished Sailor Saturn
lamely, knowing just how much weight this particular ruler put on precedent.

	"Exactly," said the pink-haired monarch, excitement in her voice. 
"There's nothing preventing a male from being a senshi.  It's just never
been done, and so everyone assumed it *couldn't* be done."

	"I'm sure Sailor Mercury-"

	"Sailor Mercury checked.  The transformation magic should work just
as well on a male.  After all, we've already had four perfect examples."

	The purple senshi blinked, then breathed in sharply with
realization.  "Tuxedo Kamen and the Starlights!"

	"Right.  Fath . . . Tuxedo Kamen was a special case, yes.  Sailor
Mercury never really felt he was a senshi in the technical sense, but Mother
did.  And the Starlights were truly female, and only assumed male form as a
disguise.

	"Even with all that, though, there's enough reason to believe it can
be done."  The smile faded from her face, replaced with a stubborn,
determined set of the jaw.  Sailor Saturn knew there was no talking that jaw
out of anything it had decided to do.  "And it *will* be done, Hotaru-chan. 
Gender inequality needs to be stopped.  Women have had a free hand for far
too long, and this is the strongest possible move I can make to change it."

	The conviction and certainty in the Queen's voice was like a slap to
the face.  Looking into her eyes, Sailor Saturn wondered how she could ever
have doubted the rightness of Serenity II's purpose.  Call it personal
magnetism, the ability to inspire, or just stubborn leadership, but she knew
in that instant that her complete and total loyalty and support would be to
the woman she loved.  Even if it meant destroying one of the most cherished
advantages the women of the Moon Kingdom held over the men.

	"What do you need me to do?"


72 Akihabara Drive
3 July 3043
15:15 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Jennifer walked out the back door of her house and sinfully wiggled
her toes in the lush, deep green grass of the yard.  Briefly she spared a
glance to her right.  Moving back and forth to look between the pickets of
her fence, she saw no signs that Doi Kurmochi, her neighbor, was puttering
about in his back yard.  She shrugged; it seemed too nice a day to spend
indoors, with the sun shining high and bright, and the air temperature at
thirty-one degrees Centigrade.  Such a temperature would probably make her
sweat a bit, but then again, that was what bikinis were for.

	This was the other reason she'd checked to make sure Doi was nowhere
around.  She had little objection to being looked at.  In her view, if she
was going to wear something skimpy and revealing, she should expect to
attract attention.  Her problem was with peeping Toms who would attempt to
be covert and sneaky in their ogling her.  Such a prospect disgusted her,
and she'd caught Kurmochi more than once looking between the slats of the
fence.

	She rolled her shoulders, resettled the large beach towel on her
arm, and walked out to the corner of her yard.  She'd picked one spot in
particular, away from her flower bed and vegetable garden, away from the
grill--still dormant, although that would change tomorrow--and with a great
deal of sunshine.  Smiling, Jen unfurled her towel, set it on the grass, and
lay down on it, tinting her glasses against the bright rays of Nozomi and
letting those parts of her body which weren't covered by cloth soak up
ultraviolet radiation.

	There were quite a few parts, actually.  She'd picked this
particular bikini four years previous, almost entirely to entice Eileen into
having her way with the redhead.  Much to her delight, both then and many
times afterward, this was exactly what happened.  Today, though, she'd
picked it because it wouldn't keep her too warm without interfering with the
suntan she wanted.

	Jen sighed happily and closed her eyes, basking in the rays of
Hinansho's G7-V primary.  Grading papers could wait, wedding preparations
could stand a day or so of delay, the present near-crisis on Luna would
almost certainly be settled before they would have any significant impact on
Hinansho.

	She smiled slightly.  Now the initial shock had worn off, she could
actually start to see some of the opportunities the planet senshi's
retirement offered.  Some of the reforms the Queen was trying to push
through would have a better chance, for certain.  Another thought caused her
smile to fade, though.  There would be a definite leadership vacuum at the
top, and it would need to be filled.  It was depressingly likely she would
be tapped to fill it.

	Jen didn't want to leave Hinansho, really.  She hadn't wanted to
leave even for the wedding, for that matter.  In her short seven years on
Hinansho--in fact, it would be exactly seven years as of tomorrow, which
would be more cause for celebration--she'd come to love her adopted world. 
It fit, really.  It wasn't perfect, of course: the gravity was noticeably
higher than Earth standard, it was far from Earth, it was bitterly cold in
winter, and Nozomi's interference played merry hell with communications from
home, but it also had breathtaking scenery, a small, cozy capital city, and
allowed her to teach and defend the people under her care.

	It would have been best to marry Eileen here, in her own backyard,
and until the orders came from Mare Crisium, it was precisely what she
planned.  Leaving Hinansho under the care of two other senshi for just the
month or so scheduled would be bad enough.  Being asked to leave it
permanently would be unbearable.  At least on Hinansho there was life: blue
skies, green grass.  The Moon was nothing but endless corridors and chambers
bored into the rock, and Jen had long suspected prolonged living there
changed people.

	She sighed, then giggled to herself.  "You really are getting ahead
of yourself, Jennifer," she said aloud.  There was no real reason to send
her back to home system.  True, she had more recent battle experience than
many senshi, but Hinansho wasn't the only planet to receive non-human
visitations.  Perhaps they'd decide some other senshi could return to Mare
Crisium and help run things from the capital.  Some senshi not named Sailor
Orion.

	A soft beeping sounded next to her ear.  Jen grimaced and rolled
over on her back, hoping whoever was calling her would go away.  The
communicator which never left her and which she'd set on the grass next to
her would not cease calling for her attention, however.  "Oh, can't you call
some other time?" she asked?  The small, hand-held silver device refused to
heed her.  "Oh, fine."  She reached out and picked up her comm.  "Sakachi
here."

	"Ma'am?  It's Kim."

	"Kim?  You're not on today."

	"No, ma'am, I'm not."  A chuckle came over the line.  "I'm at your
home, actually, trying to get in touch with you.  Antares said you were
here."

	Jen blinked, rolled over, and sat up.  "Oh, right.  Sorry, I'm in
the back yard.  Tell Antares to open the door for you."

	A pause.  "Are you sure he'll do it?"

	"He should.  You, Vanessa, and Sammy are the only ones authorized to
enter if Eileen and I were to die."  It was a sobering thought which brought
a momentary chill to the otherwise warm day.  It didn't last, though.  Jen
found it hard to remain totally serious when relaxed in her back yard. 
Briefly she considered having more meetings out here.  The left side of her
mouth curled as she regarded a very slightly discolored bit of grass next
to the house.  Perhaps after she'd finished fixing that patch of lawn.

	"Okay, I'm in.  Why didn't you just tell me to use the gate?"

	Jen glanced over at the corner of the house where the swinging gate
in the fence was.  The gate itself was hidden by the corner of the house,
but the mounds of potting soil were still clearly visible.  "Because I have
a planting project I'm working on, and if you swing the door inwards you'll
ruin it."

	"Oh, okay."  Jen waited as the commander made her way through Jen's
house, mentally timing how long it should take.  She was pleasantly
surprised to find Kim was right on time.

	Of the three full commanders of Hinansho Planetary Defense, Kim
looked the closest to what was considered 'traditional' Japanese.  Of
course, since the blonde Neo-Queen Serenity took the throne in the
twenty-second century, fewer and fewer people particularly cared about what
a 'traditional' Japanese woman looked like--or at least, if they did care,
they were careful not to advertise the fact.

	This being said, Kim had classic Japanese looks.  Her black hair was
in a pageboy cut, and as she stepped around the corner, she slipped on a
pair of lightly tinted sunglasses.  Today she also wore her summer uniform.

	On the outset, one would think the Royal Star Navy would have no
need of summer uniforms.  After all, the RSN was a space-based organization,
and much of its work was done on climate-controlled starships where the
temperature was maintained at a constant nineteen degrees centigrade.  The
turtleneck and long sleeves normally worn were comfortable in such a case,
so why have anything else?

	The answer to that was the reason Kim now wore a white short-sleeved
shirt and black trousers.  The sleeves bore all the markings of a usual
uniform, except for the patch which showed a stylized globe of Hinansho
rather than the crest of a starship, and the lack of cuff rings.  Instead,
black shoulder boards bore three golden stripes.

	The official air of Kim's uniform reminded Jen of her own lack of
clothing.  However, there was little to be done without either retreating
inside for a robe--which would have been stifling at best in the
late-afternoon heat anyway--or cover her chest with her arms and hope for
the best.  She decided to remain casual, resting her hands behind her head
while lying on her back.  "Hi Kim."

	"Hello, ma'am."  Commander Young had enough sense not to come to
attention when her commanding officer was on the grass in a bikini, but the
ingrained habits of speech were harder.  "I know I'm not on, ma'am, but I
wanted to talk to you regardless."

	Jen nodded and sat up.  "We can go inside, if you like."

	"No, ma'am, it won't take long."  She sat carefully on the grass,
not wanting to stain her pants.  "I just want to know if you're coming
back."

	"Coming back?"

	Kim looked at her captain and friend levelly.  "Yes, ma'am.  You're
going to Luna for your wedding, and we'd like . . . we need to know if
you'll come back."

	"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."  Jen sighed.  "I don't
know.  The powers that be--well, what few of them are left--haven't told me
anything."

	"Oh."  The shorter woman looked up at the blue sky.  "It's hot."

	"Yes, it is," agreed Jen.  A long pause.  "I think you guys could
manage without us a few weeks.  I'm just sorry you won't be able to attend
the wedding."  Kim, Sammy, and Vanessa were originally to be bridesmaids. 
The wedding's relocation to Luna changed that; now they were to assist the
relief senshi as they stepped in to help with planetary defense.

	Kim shrugged.  "It's okay, ma'am.  I'm sure it'll be broadcast all
over anyway.  I just-"  Both their communicators sang out, and Jen
immediately tensed.  The redhead glared at Kim, tapping her glasses back
into transparency.  "I don't know, sir--ma'am.  There aren't any drilled
scheduled today . . . ."

	Jen looked up briefly at the sky.  She saw nothing but blue skies,
but anything in deep space wouldn't be visible without being incandescent
anyway.  She reached for her communicator again with a steady hand. 
"Captain Sakachi here."

	The voice on the other side of the communicator was Vanessa's. 
"Ma'am, it's another Flash message from Luna.  Routine priority, but it
asked for an acknowledgment from either yourself or Captain Pearcy as soon
as possible," she said quickly, anticipating Jen's question.  "Given that,
and with Captain Pearcy being rather occupied right now, I figured I'd let
you know."

	"I see."  Briefly Jen considered what could require an immediate
reply from Hinansho, then decided it wasn't really all that important.  She
wasn't doing anything else.  "Okay, I'll be right in.  Oh, you rang Kim's
communicator too, you know."

	"Just in case she was with you, ma'am."

	"Right.  See you in, oh . . . a minute or two."

	"Yes, ma'am."  The communication closed, and Jen sighed.  "I'm
getting called in . . . how are the party arrangements going?"

	"Pretty well," replied Kim.  She stood as well and brushed a couple
stray blades of grass from the seat of her pants.  "The conference room is
all set, you wouldn't even recognize it.  Um . . . the orders for the band
are already cut, everyone knows the cover story.  She won't know a thing
until she gets there, I'm certain."

	Jen nodded.  "Um, come see me around 20:00 or so.  I'll probably be
around headquarters then anyway, I have a meeting with the local Navy
Reserve recruiter at 21:00."

	"Anything else, ma'am?"

	"Hm.  Oh, right, try to scare up some horseradish."

	Kim blinked and tried to wrap her tongue around the foreign term. 
"Horseradish?"

	Jen nodded.  "It's an American thing, a bit like wasabi, but not as
hot.  Eileen loves putting the stuff on cheeseburgers now and then." She
giggled.  "I tell her when she does that she shouldn't expect any kisses
from me." The other woman nodded.  "Well, I'll see you later."

	"So long, ma'am."

	The redhead pulled an oblong object from nowhere and thrust it into
the air.  The sunlight sparkled off its tip as Jen shouted the magic words. 
"Orion Crystal Power, Make-Up!"

	Kim stepped back as the transformation magic wrapped around
Jennifer.  Standing too close to a senshi as she transformed, she had found
from personal experience, was similar to putting one's face to the surface
of a glass of soda.  The difference was that the tingling, fizzy sensation
enveloped one's entire body, and was accompanied by a slight sense of
sensory disorientation.  Kim had discussed this with her two closest friends
on the command deck, but was unable to find any literature on the subject. 
Each time she thought of asking Sailor Orion, she tended to forget.

	She was unaware of how long the transformation took, afterward. 
Sometimes it ended in the blink of an eye, sometimes it seemed to take
hours.  The one constant was her being unable to determine exactly when the
transition from Jennifer Sakachi to Sailor Orion occurred.  It just did, and
then Sailor Orion was standing in front of her.  "Bye!" said the senshi, as
she crouched, then uncoiled, jumping up in a single bound to the brown roof
of her own home, then leaping away to more rooftops in the distance.

	"She really knows how to make an exit."


Planetary Defense Headquarters
16:29 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Jen sat on her desk, staring at the video display on the screen of
her office.  The RSN logo was bright yellow on a black background, and aside
from the rumble of air circulators the room was silent, yet the words she'd
heard were still echoing in her ears.

	It was patently impossible.  It couldn't happen.  The Powers that
Be, as she'd referred to them for years, couldn't expect this of her.

	She sighed and sipped her tea, which was now only lukewarm.  She'd
brewed and poured it before viewing the message, and left it untouched for
the duration of Sailor Saturn's words.  It was okay, though.  The tea wasn't
as hot as she usually liked, but instead of jolting her, it soothed as it
trickled down her throat.

	A knock came at the door.  "Come in."  It slid open, and Eileen
Pearcy stepped in, wearing a sharp gray pinstripe suit.

	"Hi Jen."  She quickly made her way over to Jen and gave her a
brief, yet passionate kiss, after which the brunette wrinkled her nose. 
"One of these days I'm going to get you drinking coffee."

	Jen smirked.  "You'd have to feed it to me through a tube."

	"Probably.  So, what's up?"  She looked around Jen's office, which
was far more spartan than her offices at home or at the university.  "You
know I have the news to do in half an hour."

	The redhead stepped behind the couch and pulled out a black and
white bundle of cloth.  Eileen saw from the patch on one part of it that it
was a Naval uniform, matching the one Jennifer wore.  "I'm afraid not.  We
have to talk to the Moon."

	Eileen blinked.  "You're kidding."

	"I wish I was.  I have papers to grade."  She tossed the uniform to
Eileen.  "Better change up, it's going to be a long night."

	"Christ.  My producer's gonna kill me."  She sighed, then shrugged
and quickly unbuttoned her jacket and blouse, tossing them on the desk.

	Jen watched her fiancee undress, her fingers drumming out the rhythm
to Soundgarden's 'Overfloater.'  "Sorry.  But you know they don't like
real-time communications unless it's something important, and . . . well, I
don't think you're going to believe this when you see it."

	Eileen yanked off her bra.  She'd chosen a red one today, mostly to
match with the red blouse she'd worn.  However, it would be unduly revealing
with the white blouse of her uniform, so off it went.  "Believe what?  And I
hope there's a bra in . . . oh, good."  With one hand she pulled on a fresh
white sports bra, while with the other she unbuttoned and unzipped her
skirt.

	"Put simply?  Her Majesty's selecting new girls to replace the
senshi, and we get to pick two of them from all candidates on Hinansho."

	"Oh?"  Eileen let her dress fall in a puddle to the floor and looked
curiously at Jen.  "Surprising, but nothing to have a coronary over, is it?"
She took the blouse Jen offered and pulled it on, fastening the buttons with
haste.

	"That's because I didn't tell you the worst part.  Or the best,
depending on . . . well, we only pick one girl."

	"What, and Queenie picks the other?"

	"No.  The other is male."

	Royal Star Navy uniform blouses aren't made to be especially
durable, unlike the jumpsuits which can withstand almost anything its wearer
might encounter.  Its clear buttons are attached to the fabric with a
standard amount of thread, which is normally genuine cotton from
locally-grown plants.

	Thus, it wasn't too hard for Eileen to yank off the last button on
her shirt in shock.  "WHAT?"

	Jen giggled.  "That's about what I said, Eileen.  I'm thinking I'll
get confirmation when we talk to the Admiralty right now."

	Eileen stared at her fiancee.  Queen Serenity II probably had no
firmer believer than Eileen Pearcy, at least as far as reform went.  There
were limits even to her enthusiasm, however, and adding a male to the most
exclusive sorority in history definitely passed the line.  "Confirmation? 
Yeah, confirmation's a good idea, and maybe some psych reports while you're
at it!  Have they completely lost their minds?"

	"I'm not willing to discount the possibility," said Jen calmly.  She
handed Eileen her slacks and watched her pull them on.  "I mean, how would
you even pull it off?  Men can't be senshi."

	"No kidding."  She shoved her shirt-tail into her pants and pulled
the waistband tight.  "So what's the plan?"

	"We talk to Sailor Saturn, she tells us what the hell is going on,
we get our orders as to how we're supposed to pick these senshi."

	"Out of a hat, probably."

	Jen shrugged and slid off the desk, walking to the small kitchenette
area which was normally hidden behind a floor-to-ceiling display screen.  "I
made you some coffee, by the way," she said, pouring some Blue Mountain into
the star-spangled mug she kept around for Eileen's use.  It was blue with
red and white stars, and Jen had bought it for Eileen's birthday some years
ago.  While Eileen had never explicitly said so, both knew it wasn't her
favorite by a long shot.  Thus, it stayed in Jen's office, and Eileen hardly
ever had to deal with it.

	"Thanks," said Eileen, taking the mug delicately as Jen handed it to
her.  The brunette inhaled a long whiff of the coffee and smiled.  "For
someone who hates coffee, you really know how to brew it."

	"I had a good teacher."

	"Yeah, right."  Eileen grinned, then took a careful sip.  Jen had
added perhaps a bit too much cream, but she wouldn't complain.  "Okay, let's
get this over with.  Antares, could you let Vanessa know we're ready?"

	"Sure thing," chirped the AI.  Sailor Saturn's face immediately
appeared on the display screen, a starfield serving as her backdrop.  Eileen
guessed she was standing in front of a window.  Thirty-three seconds later,
the communication lag allowed Sailor Saturn to notice the two senshi, and
she spoke.

	"Good evening Sakachi-san, Pearcy-san.  I'm sorry to interrupt your
schedules, but what I have to say is important."

	"Understood, ma'am," replied Eileen.  She looked around briefly,
then sat in a comfortable beige chair in front of Jen's desk.  Jen sat on
the arm of the chair, supporting herself with an arm on the back of it which
grazed against Eileen's neck.  Eileen briefly wondered what was going on,
then remembered that the last time they'd had a live communication with the
capital, she'd been more than a little distracting.  She blushed,
remembering how she'd carefully nibbled on Jen's thighs while the redhead
tried to remain serious behind her desk.  That was as far as Eileen had
gone, but she hadn't heard the end of it for weeks.  Now it seemed her lover
was intent on revenge.

	Perhaps it would be fun.

	Sailor Saturn showed no signs of consternation at the position of
the two, aside from a barely cocked eyebrow.  "I'll attempt to be brief,
then I'll answer your questions.  Did you both read the communique sent this
evening . . . or afternoon, for you?"

	Jen nodded.  Eileen shook her head.  "Um, actually I only heard the
summary from Jennifer.  I can't say I read it personally."

	"I see.  Well, I assume she at least told you that you two are
charged with selecting two senshi."

	"And that one of them has to be male, yeah."  Eileen's brown eyes
bored into the screen.  "Respectfully, Saturn, exactly whose idea was this?"

	The senshi remained impassive.  "I'm not sure what you mean."

	Eileen shrugged.  "I'm just thinking things over here.  It's been
awhile since I was involved in Palace politics, but I still remember a few
things.  Let's see . . . it's no secret Serenity's been hammering the
reformation gong for years now, ever since the Neo-Queen abdicated.  And the
planet senshi have been fighting it, to various degrees."

	"Are you sure about that?"

	"Oh, come on, Saturn."  Eileen sighed disappointed.  "Give me some
credit, okay?  Sailor Cassiopeia's still a good friend of mine, and she
drops me tidbits now and then as long as I don't go public with them.  I
know things."

	Saturn's purple eyes blinked in surprise for the first time since
the conversation began.  She glanced down for a moment before bringing her
eyes back to the camera, clearly taken off-guard by how much she'd
underestimated the former public relations head.  "Very well, then, go
ahead."

	"Right.  Like I was saying, the Queen's been fighting with the
senshi.  It's been polite, for the most part, and they've been pretty good
about not directly opposing her, and even better about keeping it private.

	"Still, the rift is there, and it hasn't been getting better.  Now
there's the Kunisada case, where a rookie ensign starts a fight and gets off
scot free.  Earth goes nuts.  Even the press picks up that the senshi were
pulling the strings on what was supposed to be an impartial panel.  Things
have gone too far.

	"Then, just a couple days after this, and right on the Queen's
birthday, six senshi 'tender their resignations as sailor senshi.'"  Eileen
crossed her arms on her chest, barely noticing Jen's hand as it rubbed the
stress points on her neck.  "Sailor Saturn, I'll bet you a billion yen that
they didn't just all get together and decide to retire.  I'll bet you a
billion more Her Majesty got fed up and gave them walking orders, and now
she wants a new bunch of planet senshi she can bully around.  Right?"  Jen
breathed in sharply at the direct challenge, but Sailor Saturn didn't even
flinch.  Eileen had cracked her once, she wouldn't do it again.

	"Interesting theory," said Saturn carefully.

	"Yeah, I know, I came up with it myself."  Eileen grinned, and Jen
repressed the urge to smack her ever-candid fiancee on the back of the head. 
"But is it right?"

	"Well, suppose you are right.  Why would Her Majesty allow you to
pick two senshi?  Wouldn't it be simpler if she picked her own?"

	"Yeah, it would, but then everyone would know the fix was in.  This
way she gets to pick her favorites, and then we pick the 'loyal opposition.'

	Sailor Saturn smiled ever so slightly.  "An excellent bit of
deductive reasoning, Pearcy-san . . . except that Her Majesty is only
picking one senshi."

	"Oh."  She sighed.  "Great, now I feel stupid," she muttered under
her breath.

	"It's okay," whispered Jen in Eileen's ear, "I thought it sounded
good."

	"Thanks."  Eileen glanced back at the screen.  "Okay, now that I've
eaten enough crow, I guess you can get on with whatever you were going to
say."

	Sailor Saturn folded her hands behind her back.  "For what it's
worth, Pearcy-san, your theory was mostly correct, but we needn't get into
that.  More important is that you're choosing two of the next planet senshi. 
We even know which ones they will be: Sailor Mercury and Sailor Uranus."

	Jen shook her head.  "I can't imagine a Sailor Mercury without blue
hair, or a Sailor Uranus without a Sailor Neptune."

	"We'll all have to get used to it, Sakachi-san.  And since we'll
have these senshi for a thousand years, it's imperative we make the right
choices."

	"So," asked Jen, "what are the criteria?"

	"There are none.  Sailor Mercury must be male, Sailor Uranus must be
female.  Both must be between fifteen and eighteen years old.  Other than
that, just pick who you think would fit best into those roles."

	Jen frowned.  "But how do we know who's best?"

	Sailor Saturn shifted her weight slightly, revealing the rising
Earth behind her.  "That's up to you.  You're both fine senshi, all I can
say is that you should be able to recognize in yourself the necessary
qualities."

	"But what if we screw up?" blurted Eileen.  "Especially with the
boy; I mean, Saturn, you may not have noticed, but we're both lesbians. 
What do *we* know about the male psyche?"

	"I'm sorry, Pearcy-san."  She said it louder than she'd meant to,
and she took three seconds to calm her breathing.  "I'm sorry," she
repeated, "but this wasn't my idea.  To be honest, I'm not convinced it's
the best plan.  But the Queen wishes it, and I'll support her through it
all."

	"Why?"

	Sailor Saturn ignored that particular question.  "I think you'll do
better than you think.  Now then, your time frame.  Your wedding is still
set for the first of September, correct?" Jen nodded.  "So you'll depart
Hinansho fairly soon.  We're sending HMS Vulcan out as your transport; she's
small, but she's being refitted with Modified Katajisto as well.  By the
time it's done, she'll be the fastest ship in the navy.  Your scheduled
departure is the second of August . . . you'll need to have made your
decision by then.  Vulcan will bring the Sailor Mercury and Sailor Uranus
designates with her to Luna for their investment ceremonies."

	Eileen pursed her lips in a silent whistle.  The second of August;
it was already the third of July.  They'd have a month to plan their wedding
and pick two senshi, in addition to their full time jobs.  "Can't we have
more time?"

	"I'm afraid not, Pearcy-san.  Her Majesty made it clear she'd like
this resolved as quickly as possible."

	"Understandable," said Jen smoothly, "but haste does make waste.  I
think we're just worried that being forced to make a decision on such short
notice, without any way to work out how to judge the merits of each
candidate . . . it's a recipe for disaster."

	"I can only give my apologies, Sakachi-san.  There's really no room
for compromise in this case."

	Jen sighed.  "Okay.  Any advice?"

	Sailor Saturn blinked, taken by surprise a second time.  She'd fully
expected the two to go off on their own, which wouldn't have bothered her
too much.  The Queen obviously trusted their judgment.  What she hadn't
expected was for them to ask for her personal guidance, based on her past
experience creating the guidelines for the original set of new
senshi--including Sailors Orion and America.

	"Um . . . academic performance isn't everything.  Neither is
athletic skill, or moral rectitude, or spirituality.  Everything has to come
together, and it's nearly impossible to figure out how.  I think it's best
to start with the children you know most.  It's favoritism, but consider
that the people you choose will be closer to the Queen than even you."

	Eileen and Jennifer nodded gravely.  "Is there anything else?" asked
Jen.

	"There is one other thing, but a minor one.  All data on previous
senshi candidates, exam results, evaluation reports, and the like, will be
sent to you in the next day or so.  It should give you some idea of what
standards we used in the past, though you shouldn't feel obligated to hold
to them."

	Jen grinned.  "Thank you, Sailor Saturn, that's just the sort of
thing we'd love to have."

	"Good."  Sailor Saturn smiled slightly.  "That's all, then.  Oh, and
happy birthday, Pearcy-san.  I know I'm a bit early, but may you have many
more."

	Eileen bowed from her seat.  "Thank you."

	"If you have any questions, you can contact me.  Otherwise, I'll see
you in August.  Good night."  The connection closed.

	"Well, that went well," said Eileen mildly.  She reached past Jen
and grabbed her coffee mug, taking two audible gulps.

	"That definitely depends on what you define as 'well.'"  Jen slid
off the chair and paced back and forth on the midnight blue carpet. 
"Eileen, I think I'm going to end up taking that vacation after all."

	The brunette giggled, then let out an "Urk!" as she spilled a few
drops of coffee on her formerly pristine blouse.  "Took you long enough,"
she said, walking briskly to the kitchenette and fishing in its drawers for
napkins.  She found one which, from the balloons and katakana, looked to be
from the 3040 New Year's celebrations, and dabbed off the excess.  "So, any
ideas?"

	"Achika," Jen said without hesitation.

	Eileen frowned.  "You sure?"

	"She's always wanted to be a senshi.  She never told me, but
watching her listen when I told her about our work . . . ."

	"Daydreaming about being a senshi is one thing.  Can she hack it?"

	"Probably."

	"Probably won't be good enough.  You know this as well as I do,
Jennifer."

	Jen blew a short sigh and flopped into the plush seat behind her
desk.  "Call it a hunch.  I think if she really wants to be a senshi, she'll
be able to do it."

	"And does she want to?"  Eileen rubbed her index finger along the
bottom of her cup thoughtfully.

	"There's one way to find out."

	Eileen sighed and stood, walking behind Jen and resting her elbows
on her shoulders.  "I really hope you know what you're doing, dear."

	Jen smirked.  "Honestly?  I don't have a clue.  But it seems
guesswork will have to suit us as well as anything.  And I don't even know
where to begin choosing a male capable of becoming a senshi."

	Eileen smiled evilly.  "How about we just pick a really masculine
looking girl?"

	"That would be cheating."

	"Would it?" Eileen rubbed Jen's back slowly, and Jen felt herself
relaxing.  "I bet if we picked a really butch one the Queen wouldn't mind. 
If all else fails we'll just find a decent girl and splice in some Y
chromosomes."  She smiled at Jen's giggles and pressed a bit harder, causing
the redhead to sigh.

	"Oh, that's good."

	"I have something better in mind, too, seeing as how you're keeping
me from doing the news tonight."

	"Good.  You can do something else instead.  Antares . . . mmm, could
you lock the door, please?  We're not to be disturbed for awhile."


72 Akihabara Drive
4 July 3043
14:22 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	The Fourth of July in Nagano-2 was another day of above-normal
highs, though dark clouds built on the western horizon, foretelling
thunderstorms and a cold front which would return the city to its usual mild
summer weather.  The Sakachi/Pearcy home's backyard was full of people. 
They talked, ate, paid their respects to the birthday girl, and trampled the
emerald lawn Jen spent so long cultivating.

	Eileen leaned against a fence post, watching her birthday party in
full swing.  Over fifty friends, colleagues, co-workers, and students
milled about the yard.  Somehow, they'd managed to fit everyone in with
enough room for a volleyball match to be played, though the ball frequently
flew into neighboring yards, or once into the punch bowl.

	She giggled; Jen had been standing next to the bowl, talking with
the university's dean of faculty.  Both had been soaked with the red punch,
and forced into retreat inside.  The dean hadn't come out yet, but Jen had. 
Eileen only hoped she'd taken a shower first; she didn't want her redheaded
fiancee's hair smelling of fruit punch.  Then again, she'd looked oddly cute
with a lemon slice in her hair.

	Briefly she glanced up at her bedroom window.  At the back of the
house, it looked over the backyard.  She and Jen had discussed putting in a
pool, though it would take up a good chunk of lawn space.  The next
suggestion was to build a deck, but Jen hadn't liked the idea of blocking
the sun from so much grass.  Now she noticed that the curtains were open;
they'd been closed before.

	"Um, excuse me . . . Pearcy-san?"  Eileen blinked out of her reverie
and looked over at Achika.  The green-haired girl had coincidentally worn
the same thing as Eileen: a light pink tank top and cut-off shorts.  Judging
from the way Yusuke had been looking at her when they'd walked into the
backyard--and the looks from some of the other teenagers who never
invited--she judged they looked quite well on her.

	"Yes?"

	Achika shifted nervously, one white sneaker crossing over the other. 
"I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday."

	Eileen smiled.  "Why, thank you."  Achika had already said it once,
of course, as soon as she arrived.  That was more a formality; for her to
say it again made it personal.  "Enjoying yourself?"

	"Oh, definitely.  Although it'll be a bit hard to squeeze in my
homework afterward."  She smiled ruefully.

	"Maybe you could ask Jen for an extension?"

	"Are you kidding, Pearcy-san?  She didn't give extensions even in
3041!"

	Eileen chuckled.  "Yeah, I know.  I thought it was hilarious."

	"The seniors told me about it afterward.  By then I liked
Sakachi-sensei a lot, but still . . . ."

	"Yeah."  She looked to the west.  "Crap.  I was hoping the rain
would hold off a bit longer.  Guess we're going to have to move this party
inside."

	"Would you like any help?"

	The older woman shook her head, her ponytail bouncing.  "Nah, we can
handle it.  No need for you to work yourself." She watched the clouds.  When
she looked at them they didn't move, but when she looked away for a moment
and then back, they were making definite progress.  She guessed there to be
an hour or so before the rains came in earnest.  "There is something else I
wanted to talk to you about . . . before Jen does, that is."

	Achika blinked in confusion.  "Talk to me about what?"

	Eileen pondered her next words before continuing.  It was premature. 
Too premature, perhaps, especially considering how she and Jen never
discussed the matter of senshi selection after leaving headquarters the
previous night.  Plus, Achika was much closer to Jen than she was to Eileen. 
The two had an excellent teacher-student relationship, and they would
undoubtedly be friends in the future.

	This was, however, the primary reason for her to step in first.  As
much as she loved Jen, she knew the teacher might be the smallest bit biased
toward her prize pupil.  While she trusted Jen's judgment in most respects,
this was one decision she knew full well was too important to mess up.

	She smiled casually.  "Well, the short version is that Jen is
thinking of picking you for a . . . prestigious position, we'll say."

	"Um, what kind of prestige?"

	"Can't tell you, sorry.  It is pretty important, though, and you'll
have to think carefully before accepting.  Well, if she asks, that is.  It's
not a sure thing by any stretch of the imagination."

	Achika raised an eyebrow.  "Okay, Pearcy-san, but I still don't
understand why I'd be picked.  I'm not *that* important."

	"For this, you are."  Yusuke wandered near, and Eileen waved him
over.  "Just keep in mind what I said, okay?  Hi Yusuke, how's it going?"

	The boy bowed politely, wearing a light blue polo shirt and khaki
shorts.  "Happy birthday, Pearcy-san.  I'm fine, I was just wondering if
Achika-chan wanted anything?"

	"No, I'm fine," Achika said, taking Yusuke's hand in her own.

	"Aww, such a gentleman."  Eileen grinned and nudged Achika's
shoulder.  "You've got a good one there."

	Achika blushed and ducked her head fractionally.  "Thank you."

	"Hey, no sweat.  Just make sure he doesn't go running off."  She
squinted at Yusuke in what she hoped was a threatening glare, but which ended
up so comical both younger persons broke out in laughter.

	"I won't, Pearcy-san."

	"Righto.  Now go on, eat up.  Otherwise Jen'll be feeding me
leftover burgers for the next three years!" The two nodded and dutifully
made off for the long, redwood table with its traditional red-and-white
checkered tablecloth, where hamburgers, hot dogs, bar-be-qued chicken, and a
full assortment of potato chips, pretzels, and potato salad.

	Eileen had to smile at the thought.  Jen had gone out of her way to
give Eileen a perfect American cookout, which was all the more admirable
when she took into account Jen's unfamiliarity with American cooking. 
Everything she knew about it came from what Eileen told her.

	However, Jen was determined to give her fiancee a cookout, and she'd
enlisted the help of some of the few American immigrants in planning the
meal.  Eileen was surprised to say the least; hamburgers and hot dogs she
expected.  Jen even knew how to make a cheeseburger just the way Eileen
liked it: two thick, juicy, patties of beef, each weighing 113 grams, or
what Eileen still called a quarter pound.  Each was cooked on an open flame
until the exterior was a deep gray, and its interior just past the point of
pinkness.  Three slices of yellow cheddar, one between the patties and the
other slices at the top and bottom.  Then the top was slathered liberally
with ketchup, mustard, horseradish, onions, pickles, and lettuce.  Her mouth
watered at the thought.  If Jen had only offered her such a sandwich, she
would have counted herself ahead in the game.

	There was more, though.  In addition to hot dogs, cooked on the
grill and served with chopped radish, onions, melted cheese, and chili which
felt like it was going to incinerate her taste buds--which was just the way
she liked it--there was genuine potato salad.  Eileen had been amazed, not
having eaten it since she left her native land for Japan.  Admittedly, it
wasn't the best potato salad she'd ever had.  Not enough mayonnaise, for
one.  She appreciated the effort, though, and the healthy portion she'd
taken took her back to cookouts and picnics in Pennsylvania, where the
mosquitoes nibbled on her bare legs and the barbecue sauce ran down her
chin.

	"Eileen?"  

	The brunette blinked, and she was back on Hinansho.  "Um . . . yeah,
Jen?"

	"Just a bit worried.  You looked distracted."

	Eileen stretched.  "Just thinking.  You really went to a lot of
trouble for this."

	"You're worth it," Jen said simply.  A pause, while the errant
volleyball rolled over the grass and came to rest at Jen's feet.  She
flicked it up in the air with her left foot, then booted it back over to the
players in a high parabola.  "I saw you talking with Achika."

	"Yep."

	"Did the subject of Sailor Uranus come up?"

	"Not as such," said Eileen carefully.

	"Eileen . . . ."

	"Okay, okay."  Eileen sighed and wished for a moment Jen weren't so
persistent sometimes.  Often it was an advantage, but at times like these,
when she positively refused to let a subject drop, it was quite the hassle. 
"I told her you might be picking her for something."

	"For *what*, Eileen?"  Eileen simply looked at her.  Jen blinked and
turned away.  "Sorry."

	"It's okay," she lied.  In truth she was severely irritated. 
Jennifer could be a very forceful person when she had a mind to be, and
apparently this was a case where she was sufficiently determined to find out
what was going on.  Ordinarily Eileen didn't mind it too much.  It was the
price of doing business, she supposed, and she knew Jen never meant it
personally.  Nonetheless, it was still Eileen's birthday, and she'd thought
she deserved better than a grilling.

	Eileen smiled, and it was almost genuine.  "It's okay.  I didn't
tell her what it was for, though.  Just something important and flashy.  She
probably thinks it's some award for school or something."

	"Hm.  I suppose there won't be any large difficulties with it. 
Actually, I was looking at Yusuke-kun's scores, and he's actually a very
good candidate.  Not simply intelligent, but good physical attributes too."

	Eileen chuckled.  "And the fact that they're girlfriend and
boyfriend has nothing to do with it?"

	Jen smiled slightly and leaned against Eileen, putting an arm around
her waist.  "It might have a little bit to do, yes."

	"I don't know, Jen.  People are going to scream bloody murder-"

	"No they won't."

	"Well, they're going to think bloody murder about showing
favoritism."

	Jen shrugged.  "What about Uranus and Neptune?"

	Eileen thought about this.  She had a point; the most famous senshi
couple of them all had been in existence seemingly forever.  What could be
wrong with arranging another one?  However, the more she thought about it,
the less she liked it.

	She couldn't do it, she realized.  Times had changed too radically
in the mere decade since the Exam was last administered.  It had been too
long since the lives of so many teenage girls were irrevocably changed by a
few simple words of power.  She'd known what she was getting into.  She'd
tried as hard as she could to become a senshi, studied and labored for
years, and eventually only getting her final chance by a combination of
skill, determination, and luck.  Now she was faced with the task of having
to inflict the senshi form on another.

	Not that it didn't come with its advantages.  Senshi could buy
pretty much anything they wanted, had the twin gifts of eternal youth and
eternal life--or at least a theoretical lifespan of some five centuries,
though of course no post-planet senshi had ever had the chance to live long
enough to test the theory--, and were in positions of power and authority.

	The flip side was the duty and responsibility of being the final
arbiters of authority.  Senshi were responsible for running the Navy,
protecting colonies, making decisions, and being the last line of defense
against whatever might come.  It was the side of the job she often hated,
and she wasn't at all sure she wanted to inflict it on someone
else--especially when that someone else had neither asked for it nor sought
it out.

	Additionally, she disliked the thought of an arranged relationship
between the two.  She knew how much she would have resented being
manipulated into her marriage with Jen.  If they put Achika and Yusuke into
the roles of Sailor Uranus and Sailor Mercury, it would be a clear signal
for the two to continue their relationship . . . which would only lead to
trouble if they were decided to end it.

	"I don't know," said Eileen finally.  "Are you sure you want to do
this?"

	Jen looked over at the volleyball game, watching as a professor from
the history department went up to spike the ball.  He was forty-eight, but
he was as spry as the other teenage players, and he pulled his arm back,
whipping it forward and smashing the ball down over the net and toward the
ground.  He was taken completely by surprise when one of his students
promptly stuffed him, smashing the ball back in his prof's face.  He barely
twisted his head out of the way, avoiding the rapidly spinning ball as it
curled down to the trampled grass and bounced on the ground.  The professor
tugged at his collar nervously, then smiled and laughed, nodding to the
student.  The student smiled as well, secure in knowing his instructor
wouldn't take it out on him, and the others laughed.

	The redhead in the t-shirt and shorts didn't smile.  "Achika Shibata
is smart, athletic, has an unerring sense of loyalty, and is one of the best
students I've ever had.  And . . . she's always wanted to be a senshi. 
She's never told me, but you'd have to be blind not to see it." She frowned. 
"That's what her mother meant.  She idolizes me."

	"And you're going to facilitate her idolizing by deciding she can
be a senshi?"

	"She's the best qualified girl I know.  I'll go through the records
again, but she's really the best I can think of offhand.  If there's anybody
better, I don't know them well enough personally." She looked away. 
"Besides, Sailor Saturn was clear.  We have to make the decision as quickly
as possible, there's no time to waste in deliberations when we know who the
choice will be."

	Eileen sighed.  It wouldn't do to point out Jen was simply using the
need for haste as an excuse.  Even with their tight deadlines, it wouldn't
have hurt to wait a day or so before hanging all their hopes on the
green-haired girl.  However, in this case there was little point arguing with
her.  Jen had her heart set on Achika as Sailor Uranus, and there seemed
nothing which could be done to prevent it.

	Perhaps she would make a good senshi after all.  "Okay.  I'm still
not sold on Yusuke, though."

	"He'll do just fine."  Jen put an arm around Eileen's shoulder,
giving her a friendly squeeze.  "Just trust me, okay?"

	Eileen nodded.  "I always trust you, Jen, you know that."

	"Good.  Now then, I had some coleslaw made for you, though I wasn't
too sure exactly what slaw dressing was . . . ."  Eileen forced a smile and
went to see how Jen's latest culinary experiment turned out.


Ai Furikato Senior High School
8 July 3043
14:01 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"Achika-san, could I speak with you a moment?"

	Achika jumped at the voice.  Turning, she saw Dr. Sakachi standing
motionless in the sea of students leaving the building for the day.  It was
an odd sight; normally her teacher left promptly at 13:00 on Saturdays. 
Reflexively she glanced at her watch.  "Um, will it take long?  I have to
get to practice fairly soon."

	"Just a few seconds, Achika-san.  This way, please."  Jen beckoned
with a finger and walked into an empty classroom.  Achika sighed; there was
barely enough time to get to the locker room, change, and report to the
practice field as it was.  She really didn't have the time to shoot the
breeze with Jen, not today.  She hadn't been given a choice, though, so she
trudged against the flow of traffic and followed Jen into the room.

	Her teacher sat on a desk, her long legs crossed as she rested back
on her palms.  The lights were off, with the only illumination coming from
the open windows which let in a warm, gentle breeze.  It tousled and teased
both their hair, rustling a few papers on the bulletin board on the wall. 
With the bright backdrop of the windows, Achika couldn't see Jen's eyes. 
"How are you doing?" her teacher casually asked.

	Jen had made no signal for her to sit, and Achika worried that doing
so might be impolite.  Worse, she might take it as an indication she was
capable of staying later than she really should.  She folded her hands
behind her back.  "I'm fine, thank you."

	"That's good.  You're handling your schoolwork well?"

	"Yes, Sakachi-sensei."  She gulped.  "There's nothing wrong, is
there?"

	Jen said nothing for four long, tortuous seconds before giggling and
shaking her head.  "Oh no, nothing like that.  Relax, Achika-san, you're not
in any trouble."

	"Thank you . . . but my co-"

	"I've already spoken with Ikeda-san, and you're excused from
practice today.  Don't worry, he understands completely."

	Achika barely managed to keep from blurting "Well, *I* don't
understand!"  Instead, she settled for a noncommittal "Oh."

	"Why I asked you here is . . . well, you keep up with events on
Luna, right?"  Achika nodded; it was a courtesy question more than anything. 
All of Dr. Sakachi's students were required to subscribe to at least one
news channel focusing on affairs in the capital.  She delighted in testing
them on current events, but it wasn't just for busy work.  Her history
lectures often tied historical events into current ones, and a student who
didn't keep up with the present would often find herself lost with the past
as well.

	Jen nodded to herself, then seemed to consider her words before
proceeding.  "Then you're aware of the, ah, retirement of the six planet
senshi.  Well, Her Majesty doesn't wish a vacuum to remain at Mare Crisium. 
She's directed that they be replaced, and she's personally--" well, it was
only a slight exaggeration-- "asked that Eileen and I select two of those
senshi."

	Achika blinked twice.  "Um, I understand, Sakachi-sensei . . . but
what does all this have to do with me?"

	Jen drummed her fingers softly on the light brown wooden surface of
the desk.  Funny, while synthetics would have been far cheaper and easier to
produce, and more durable as well, wood was still the material of choice for
school desks.  There was a barely perceptible echo on the pine.  "We've
looked through the academic and personal records of all the girls in the
target age group.  We looked at grades, writing samples, physical exams,
considered recommendations of teachers, coaches, family, and friends.  Based
on all that, Eileen and I feel that you're the best qualified girl on
Hinansho to be the next Sailor Uranus, and I'm offering you the position."

	The green-haired schoolgirl blinked once, uncomprehending.  Again
she blinked, and it hadn't sunk.  A third time, and then the enormity of
what Jen was asking her struck her, and she could only manage one word. 
"Huh?"

	"I know this is kind of a shock to you."  She paused, and Achika
thought she saw the slightest hint of a smile on Jen's face.  The girl
dismissed it as a trick of the shadows.  "I remember when I found out I'd
passed the exam.  One of the happiest moments of my life . . . I really
didn't know what to do.  It was . . . it was a dream come true, literally."

	"I don't understand," said Achika.  "How . . what . . . how did you
decide-"

	"As I said, we went through your records.  We talked to people."  A
sound which might have been a giggle.  "And of course, it doesn't hurt that
I know you pretty well."

	"Sakachi-sensei, I-"

	Jen raised a hand.  "No.  I don't want an answer now.  I don't even
want one tomorrow, really.  Talk it over with your parents, and Yusuke-san. 
Think it over carefully, and you can tell me your decision Monday."

	"But . . . how do I decide something like this?" asked Achika
helplessly.  It was all happening far too fast.

	Achika had wanted to be a senshi as she grew up.  All girls did. 
After the halt of senshi recruitment in 3033, it had been a hopeless dream. 
When it became clear no new senshi could be created to replace those who
died in the 3035 war, it became little more than a fantasy.  This didn't
stop girls from wanting to be senshi, but it meant there came a time when
they realized it would not happen.

	Now the door was reopened, and Achika wasn't at all what to think. 
Planet senshi were the most important; planet senshi gave orders to the
other senshi, for that matter.  What in her life had ever prepared her to
take on that awesome responsibility?  On the other hand, what had prepared
her to refuse it?

	Jen shrugged.  "I can't tell you that, Achika-san.  That's why you
have to think about it."

	"I don't have to think about it."  The words were out before she
could realize what she said.

	Jen uncrossed her legs and slid down to her feet.  She crossed her
arms on her chest and looked closely at Achika.  "I wasn't joking,
Achika-san.  This *will* change your life, and there are lots of days you'll
regret it.  You need to discuss this with your parents."

	Achika shook her head lightly, yet insistently.  "No,
Sakachi-sensei.  I don't."

	The redhead sighed and leaned against the desk.  "Perhaps this was a
mistake."

	"Sakachi-sensei-"

	"Listen to me, Shibata-san," said Jen in a voice Achika had never
heard before.  "You're volunteering to leave your friends, your family, your
home, and a very promising career.  You're volunteering to get shot at, to
protect the Solar System, to let yourself die for the Queen if necessary. 
You do *not* want to do that just to fulfill some childhood fantasy, or
because I think you're the best to do it, or because you think it'll be fun. 
You do it because you care about the senshi, you believe in the senshi, and
you know you can *add* to the senshi.  If you can guarantee all these
things, then by all means, accept.  If you can't, then you'd damn well
better stay here at home.  Do.  You.  Understand.  Me?"

	Achika shivered and involuntarily took a step back.  It was the
captain's voice, the voice which doesn't expect obedience, but knows it will
be obeyed.  Her first impulse was to apologize, and her mouth opened to say
the words.  She stopped, though, as the true gravity of the situation became
apparent to her.

	She could be Sailor Uranus.  She, Achika Shibata, high school
junior, could be Sailor Uranus, one of the most powerful of the planet
senshi.  Jennifer Sakachi thought so, apparently Eileen Pearcy thought so,
and on their say-so the Queen would make it so.  Thus, if she could be
Sailor Uranus then, why not be Sailor Uranus now?  Mentally, she clicked.

	"Sakachi-sensei, I understand what's necessary and what's at risk,
but I believe I can handle it.  I *know* I can handle it." She turned and
slowly paced down the aisle, her hands balled in fists at her sides.  "I
don't believe I have to consult my parents on the matter, nor do I have to
consult Yusuke-kun.  I've always wanted to be a senshi and help everyone,
and now I can." She spun on Jen, red eyes blazing in the sunlight streaming
through the windows.  "And I'll be *damned* if I hesitate another *second*
to accept!"

	A silence fell upon the classroom, more deadly than anything Achika
had heard before.  "Kami-sama," she whispered.  She'd chewed out her
teacher, worst of all a teacher who she respected greatly.  More
importantly, this teacher was also the sailor senshi who'd been willing to
recommend her for senshi rank herself.  Achika looked down at the gray tiled
floor, unwilling to look into Jen's eyes for fear of what she might see.

	"Is that how you really feel?" asked Jen in a perfectly, painfully
neutral voice.

	"Yes," said Achika softly.  There seemed little point in trying to
be polite now; the damage was done.

	"I see."  Something in Jen's tone made the girl look up, but the
teacher was already walking toward the door.  "We depart the second of
August.  It's unlikely you'll be coming back any time soon, so be sure to
bring everything you want.  Call Commander Porter if you need any help, and
if you have any questions you can come to me or Captain Pearcy." She stopped
at the door and turned to face Achika, her face emotionless.  "I have a
meeting to get to.  If you need to talk to me, you'll have to do so after
18:00.  Goodbye."

	She walked out.


551 Sakura Drive
17:11 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"You WHAT?"

	"I said yes," said Achika quietly.

	Yusuke stared at the black phone receiver.  He lay on his stomach on
the bed, wearing black sweatpants which hovered just on the verge of being
too small.  He twisted the left sleeve of his blue t-shirt nervously,
staring at the green indicator light on the phone which sat at the head of
his bed.  "Please tell me you're joking, Achika-chan."

	A rustling sound came over the speaker.  She was probably doing her
homework, he guessed.  It was something he should be doing too, but after
Achika skipped their after-school almost-but-not-quite date at the Crown
Fruit Parlor, he'd gotten too worried and called her instead.  "I'm serious,
Yusuke-kun."

	"Right.  And what happened to being a historian?  To teaching?"

	"I can still do those things.  Yusuke-kun, being a planet senshi
doesn't mean I'll be locked away in some chamber for the rest of my life."

	Yusuke sighed and rolled off the bed, pacing about his bedroom
nervously.  A small sensor on the phone detected he was moving away and
automatically increased both the volume of the speaker and the gain of the
microphone.  "It's weird.  Yesterday you were the plain ordinary Achika
Shibata I always knew, and today you're . . . what?  Senshi-designate?"

	"Ordinary, huh?  I didn't know I was *ordinary*!"

	He winced.  "Look, I didn't mean it that way."

	"Oh?  Then please tell me how did you mean it?"

	"You're overreacting, Achika-chan."

	"I'M NOT . . . okay, maybe I am."  A long pause.  "I'm sorry,
Yusuke-kun.  I guess . . . well, after the roasting I got from Mother, I
guess I couldn't handle more."

	"Oh, great."  He flopped down on his bed, facing up at the bare
white ceiling.  "How'd they take it?"

	"Don't ask.  It was . . . well, eventually, she stopped screaming."

	Yusuke rubbed his forehead.  Dr. Shibata, Achika's mother, could be
very opinionated when it came to Achika's future.  While Achika never
complained about it, and indeed never seemed to see it as a large problem,
Yusuke sometimes worried she was too controlling.  "And?"

	"And I think she'll let me go.  Sakachi-sensei and Pearcy-san are
coming over in a couple hours to talk about the arrangements."

	"They move fast, don't they?"

	Achika's sigh was clearly audible.  "There's only a month until I
leave.  I have to pack my things, learn all this stuff about the senshi
power structures, magic, combat . . . I don't know if I'll be able to stay
in school.  I definitely won't be able to stay on the football team."

	Yusuke frowned.  "I . . . I don't want you to go, Achika-chan."

	"Yusuke-kun, I-"

	"No, I mean it.  I love you, Achika-chan."

	"And I love you, Yusuke-kun."

	"Then don't go!"  Yusuke sat up and glared at the inoffensive phone. 
"Stay here!"

	A rustle of papers.  "I have to, Yusuke-kun."

	"Why?  So you can go play senshi?  What do you know about fighting?"

	"I thought you'd be more supportive."  A sniff.  "Do you . . . do
you really not want me to go?  No, wait.  Don't answer that; I don't think I
can stand it if you say you do."  A long pause.  "Okay.  Okay, I'm sorry,
I'm overreacting.  I guess I need some time to adjust . . . ."

	Yusuke got up and paced again.  His girlfriend, Sailor Uranus--his
mind couldn't wrap itself around the concept.  To him, senshi were exalted
figures.  People like Sailor Neptune, who'd been born millennia before him,
or Sailor America.  Sailor America, in particular; one of his first memories
was of watching her first transformation live on the holoscreens, and for
some time he'd been a fan of hers.  They were the senshi, the legends to be
admired and looked at from afar, not his seventeen year old girlfriend who
loved football and swimming.

	What would it be like to date a senshi? he wondered briefly.  Did
they get to go out to restaurants and movies?  Sailors Orion and America
did, but they were obviously provincial senshi and not subject to the same
rules.  Planet senshi probably never got out much, they got on with the
business of helping the Queen run the country.

	Of course, none of it would matter to him.  She'd be on Luna, 218
light years from Yusuke and Hinansho.  Dates would involve months of
planning and weeks of travel.  He could kiss any hope of a normal
relationship goodbye.  With a sigh, he walked to his desk and examined the
framed picture of Achika which was there.  He'd never really realized how
much he loved Achika until now, when he was losing her.

	"Yusuke-kun?  Yusuke-kun, are you there?"

	He blinked and looked up sharply, then scratched the back of his
head.  "Oh, um, sorry. Yeah, I'm still here."

	"Okay.  I have to go now, Mother wants to speak to me again.  We
can talk more about this tomorrow, right?"

	Tomorrow?  Sure.  After all, they only had another month together. 
"Okay."

	"I love you.  Bye."  The phone beeped, and the indicator light
turned red.  He glanced out the window.  The late-afternoon sun was now
blotted out by dark thunderheads.  It seemed the weather would become nasty
rather soon.

	He grabbed his umbrella.


Central Park
Nagano-2, Colony of Hinansho, Moon Kingdom
17:39 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Takeshi Ashida loved rainy days.  This wasn't to say he disliked
sunny days; those were nice too, especially when it came to visiting
Nagano-2's only public beach.  While few visited it--except during the very
hottest months of the year--because of the often cold water temperatures, it
was still a good spot to watch guys sunning themselves.  Rainy days, though,
were nice for reasons he couldn't quantify.  Perhaps it was the dampness 
which permeated the air, or the gentle soothing music of raindrops falling 
on umbrellas and rooftops and sidewalks.  Maybe it was watching rain in its
many forms: showers, drizzle, downpours, fine mists.

	Or maybe, especially on days like this, it was the faint scent of
ozone, the bright flashes of lightning, and the boom of thunder.

	A lightning bolt struck in the distance, brightening the gathering
darkness.  The sun had not yet set, but the clouds were growing thicker and
darker, and less light filtered through to the surface.  It was almost dim
enough for the lampposts to turn themselves on, and Takeshi blinked as he
saw a figure narrowly avoid one of them.  The figure ran across the
rain-slicked grass, slipping twice and nearly falling over.  The second time
this happened, the broken umbrella the figure held flew out of his hands,
being taken away by a particularly strong gust of wind.  As the figure drew
closer, Takeshi discerned it was a male, fairly young, and absolutely soaked
to the skin.  Then he climbed, gasping, up the steps of the gazebo in which
Takeshi stood.

	"Yusuke-kun?"  The redheaded boy blinked at the sight.	Yusuke's
black hair was plastered to his scalp, tangled and dripping, as was the rest
of his clothing.  "What are you doing out in this storm?"  Another lightning
bolt punctuated this statement, followed by a low rumble of thunder.

	Despite himself, Yusuke smiled slightly.  "Me?  What are *you* doing
out here?"

	"Got me, I guess."  He shrugged and looked out over the park, which
was now receiving a drenching with sheets of rain.  "Nothing much, really. 
I finished my homework early, I decided to get some fresh air."

	"You've got a weird idea of fresh air."  They both jumped as a
particularly loud crack of thunder came from nearby.  "Think it's safe
here?"

	"Oh, definitely."  Takeshi casually leaned against one of the ash
posts of the gazebo, looking up at the wooden roof.  "I come here lots of
times in the rain.  Storms, too . . . normally lightning hits the trees,
they're taller."

	This failed to reassure Yusuke, given that there was a semicircle of
trees around one half of the structure.  A glance outside, though, showed
he'd have little better chance if he made a run for home.  It was simply too
far away.  "Um, okay."  They stood in relative silent for a moment, the only
sound being the drone of rain, and thunder which grew louder and more
frequent as time went on.  Yusuke crossing his arms on his chest, trying to
warm himself.  As he did so, he considered how warm Takeshi was today;
normally he was always a bit distracted.  Not a bookworm by any stretch of
the imagination, but very intense, especially when it came to schoolwork.

	Yusuke squared his shoulders.  If there was one thing he'd learned
from listening to Yoshii's story, it was that Takeshi told it how it was. 
"Actually, Takeshi-kun, it's girlfriend troubles."

	"Oh?"  Takeshi turned to look at him, tapping a black boot idly
against the wet wooden floor.  A light set into the ceiling of the gazebo
clicked on as the darkness passed its activation threshold, and Yusuke
blinked, seeing Takeshi's deep green eyes.  They were oddly hypnotizing, and
he shook his head almost imperceptibly to clear it of the unusual influence. 
Later he wrote it off to the shock of having the light switch on.

	"Yeah.  Achika-chan . . . well, she might be going away for awhile."

	Takeshi blinked and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black
jeans.  "Really?  Is she leaving Hinansho?"

	"I really shouldn't say . . . ."

	"Oh, come on, you can tell me.  We're schoolmates."

	Yusuke sighed.  "I guess it'll be all over the school soon enough
anyway . . . well, yes.  She might be leaving Hinansho.  She wants to, at
least."

	"Why?"

	Was that a hint of eagerness Yusuke heard?  He dismissed it; too
hard to pick out emotional charge when it was raining and thundering.  "I
don't know that I can tell you.  Anyway, she might not.  She wants to go to
the Moon," he continued in response to Takeshi's unasked question.

	Takeshi scratched his head.  "She doesn't graduate until next year. 
Are her parents moving?"

	"Probably not."  Dr. Shibata would think long and hard before
leaving the sentient life institute.  Yusuke guessed her parents wouldn't
accompany her, assuming she let Achika go at all.

	"So, you're out here in the rain and risking electrocution because
you're afraid of Achika-san leaving?"

	Yusuke smiled wryly.  "You have a way of getting to the heart of the
matter."

	Takeshi grinned.  "So I'm right?"

	"So you're right.  I don't want her to leave.  I even asked her not
to."  He sighed, spilling all his troubles on this one particular teenager
willing to listen to his problems.  "I wish she'd listened."

	The redhead pondered his situation.  If Achika left for Luna, it
would probably be the end of the relationship.  Then Yusuke would be
available, for all the good it would do Takeshi.  He knew Yusuke wasn't
interested in guys.  Did it matter, though, as long as he could admire him
from afar?

	"I bet she did listen.  But whatever this thing is, it must be
pretty important for her to transfer to another school and leave everything
here in Hinansho."

	Yusuke nodded glumly.  "More important than anything in the world."

	"Then does she have a choice?" asked Takeshi reasonably.  He found
it necessary to raise his voice; the storm was intensifying.  Strong winds
blew the rain in near-horizontal streams which caught both boys.  Nothing
could be done about it; Yusuke's umbrella was gone, Takeshi hadn't brought
one, and the thin posts holding up the gazebo roof offered no protection at
all.

	"I . . . well, sort of."  Technically, he supposed she did. 
Realistically, if he'd been offered Achika's opportunity, who knew what he
might decide.  Then again, he was a male, and that particular decision would
never be his to worry about.

	"Then she'll decide which is more important, you or whatever it is
she's leaving for."  A frown crossed his face, both at the rainwater and a
thought which occurred to him.  "She's not going to Luna for somebody else,
is she, Yusuke-kun?"

	"No!"

	Takeshi nodded.  "Just checking."

	Both fell silent as the storm reached its peak.  Hinansho generally
didn't have very severe storms.  Three or four a year were very destructive,
however, and tornadic activity was not unknown.  Both young men looked
warily at the roof as the winds increased again, tugging at their hair and
causing their clothing to flap noisily.  Inanely, Yusuke thought their
clothes would dry nicely, if it weren't for the rain which continued to
drench them horizontally.  To their surprise, loud thuds on the roof
heralded the falling of hailstones, each the size of a golf ball and
bouncing down to the grass and paved footpaths.  The boys moved to the
center of the gazebo, trying to avoid some of the more dangerous ricochets.

	In contrast to how slowly it built, the storm front passed with
astonishing rapidity.  The rains immediately lessened, then diminished to a
gentle shower, the rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning receding to
the west.  The winds kept up, though they were now noticeably cooler as the
cold front passed.

	"Haven't had a storm that big in some time," observed Takeshi, his
red hair a glaring spot of color in a world which steadily advanced to
twilight shades of gray and black.  He sighed, then surprised Yusuke with
the biggest smile he had ever seen on his face.  "Too bad we don't get
enough of them."

	"One's more than enough for me."  Yusuke walked to the opening break
in the railing of the gazebo.  His shoes squeaked as he walked, rubber soles
meeting the beads of water formed when the rain fought a losing battle
against the waterproofed planks.  Looking up, he saw the clouds were
clearing; breaks were rapidly forming in the gray ceiling, revealing a deep
blue sky.  Occasionally a glimpse could be seen of the tops of rain clouds,
bright white and slightly dimmer yellow mounds of vapor lit by the waning
light of Nozomi.  "Looks like it's eased up enough for me to get home."

	Takeshi nodded, following Yusuke to the front of the gazebo and
pulling his hand back before he could place it on the black-haired boy's
shoulder.  "Things always work out . . . well, most of the time.  I guess
sometimes they don't."  He frowned; this was hardly encouraging.  Honest,
perhaps, but it wasn't making Yusuke feel any better about himself, nor
taking the five hundred kilogram gorilla off his back.

	Yusuke shrugged.  "I guess not even if you're a senshi."  He squared
his shoulders and was off before Takeshi could ask for an explanation of
such a puzzling statement.  Takeshi sighed, leaned against a post, and
watched him go.


72 Akihabara Drive
23:55 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Eileen peeled off her blue t-shirt, then her white lace bra, tossing
both in the clothes hamper.  Clad only in a pair of pink panties, she slid
into bed next to Jen, who was already grabbing most of the warm, thick
blankets around herself.  Their air conditioning was, as usual, turned very
high.  She spent close to a minute getting herself comfortable, tugging at
blankets, adjusting the pillows, wriggling her shoulders, rubbing her toes
against Jen's calf.  Finally, she completed her evening ritual and turned to
look at Jen's eyes, which laughed silently at her in the dimness of the
room.  "What?"

	Jen smirked.  "You're so much like a cat when you do that.  You have
to have your bed just right."

	"I'm a sensitive woman," sniffed Eileen, sliding closer to Jen and
casually intertwining Jen's legs with her own.  Their bare breasts met, and
she smiled at the warmth of her fiancee's breath on her face.  "'Sides, when
did you ever have a cat?"

	"I didn't."  Jen shrugged and wrapped her arms around her lover. 
"A neighbor did, though.  Gray fur . . . I'd watch him sun himself out on
the balcony.  Always in the exact same spot, too."  She sighed in
remembrance; had the Choshi family survived the disaster of 3035?  She'd
never even thought about them, really.  A query could verify it, maybe-

	Eileen broke in on her thoughts.  "So, you think she'll do it?"

	Jen blinked twice.  "Who'll do what?"

	"Achika.  Sailor Uranus.  The whole nine yards."

	"Nine yards . . . oh right, those.  I think she will, yes."

	"Really?"  Eileen propped her head up on her elbow, her hair--still
in a ponytail--falling down over one shoulder.  "I don't think her mom has
bought it yet."

	Jen smiled slightly and stroked Eileen's head softly.  "You didn't
see her eyes.  She's like all mothers, really . . . she just wants what's
best for her daughter, and for her to succeed.  Being a planet senshi
definitely qualifies as a success, and it's what's best as well."

	"In your opinion?" asked Eileen.

	"In her opinion, too.  I've talked to her at conferences before; she
wanted Achika to get a doctorate, follow in her mother's footsteps and all
that.  She may not recognize it now, but I'm certain she'll realize the
possibilities being a senshi offers.  Just give her a day or so."

	"You're the boss."  Eileen cuddled closer to Jen, pulling the
blankets with her.

	"No, I'm not," but they both knew it was true.  Of the two, Jen took
a much larger role in the management of Hinansho's defenses, and Jen took on
more of the responsibilities they shared as the planet's only senshi.  It
was never a conscious decision, but was simply the way things evolved. 
Neither minded it; Jen simply preferred to take on a larger number of duties
than Eileen.  Generally speaking it worked for the best.

	Nevertheless, Jen frowned.  "I'm not the boss in this case, at
least.  Do you think I should try Momoko-san?"  Momoko Erizawa was their
second choice and poised to be valedictorian of her class.  She was also
extremely athletic, being on the football, basketball, and swim teams--and
being captain of the basketball team didn't hurt.  

	However, she had two chief drawbacks.  First was her age; she was
only a month short of her eighteenth birthday, which put her at the upper
range of the age requirements.  In addition, Jen had done some asking
around.  The majority of Momoko's teachers felt she was bright, yet more
than a little arrogant.  One had even gone so far as to call her haughty. 
While Eileen had only half-jokingly pointed out this would in fact be an
excellent trait in a girl intended to be Sailor Uranus's successor, Jen felt
there was no need to add unnecessary friction to the new sailor team.  So
Momoko was held in reserve.

	"Hell no," said Eileen.  She grimaced and gave Jen's back a quick
rub.  "Who's third on the list?"

	A pause.  "I don't have anyone else on the list."

	"Oh.  Well, you'd better hope Achika's available.  I don't know if I
want to take orders from Erizawa for the rest of my life."

	"I've been wondering about that, actually."  She lightly caressed
Eileen's back, her hand drifting lower and lower on the brunette's spine. 
"What does this do to the chain of command?"

	"You mean is the Queen going to let a bunch of teenagers become
admirals?"  Eileen chuckled.  "Only if she wants a couple hundred captains
and flag officers to mutiny.  They'd scream bloody murder."

	Jen nodded.  "There's no way she'll let them have flag rank. 
Honestly, with no naval training they have no business holding any rank at
all.  I assume there'd be some sort of accelerated training program, but
still . . . if I were her, I'd keep them out of the Navy for a few years. 
Let them get used to Palace life."

	Eileen laughed and kissed Jen on the forehead.  "Don't assume the
rest of the world thinks like you, Jen.  If you think she should do
something, tell her.  The worst she can do is tell you no, and at best
she'll take the recommendation."

	"She'd never listen to me," said Jen, looking away.

	"And how do you know that?  You can read her mind or something?"

	Jen sighed, thinking back to the days she had served with the
then-Princess on HMS Pleiades.  "I resented her when she tried to tell me
how to do my job.  I won't do the same and tell her how to do hers."

	Eileen rolled her eyes and pulled Jen close, reassuring her with her
warmth.  "For Pete's sake, Jennifer, you're not telling her how to do
anything.  You're giving her a suggestion; would you bite Kim's head off for
asking you to try corrective surgery for your eyes?  No."

	"I know, but . . . wait."  Jen peered suspiciously at Eileen.  "Why
would she suggest something like that?"

	"No reason," said Eileen too quickly.

	"Oh no, I know how you are when you're hiding something."  Exerting
a bit of control with her arms, she rolled over on top of Eileen, her hair
falling down in a red curtain around Eileen's head, blue eyes illuminated by
the soft yellow light of the hallway which shone through the open bedroom
door.  "Who's been talking about my glasses?"

	"Nobody."  Eileen squirmed a bit, trying to get away, but Jen's hold
on her shoulders was tight, as was the pin Jen's legs had on her hips. 
Eileen wasn't going anywhere.  Of course, she didn't really want to go
anywhere, but it was more fun to struggle.

	"Tell me."

	"Really, it was nobody."

	"Eileen . . . ."  Jen made a certain motion with her knee.

	"Mmmm . . . okay, okay.  It was Vanessa, actually, not Kim, and she
was asking one of the profs at the university if you'd said anything to him
about having your eyes fixed."  Jen made the motion again to coax more
information out of Eileen, and the brunette promptly complied, if a bit
breathlessly.  "The prof said it made you look more bookish, and . . . oooh,
Vanessa agreed.  She thought you might just get smaller lenses!"

	The redhead grinned and relented.  One advantage to living and
sleeping with a woman for thirteen years was that Jen knew all Eileen's
vulnerable spots.  She rolled back to Eileen's side.  Eileen playfully
swatted Jen's head with a handy feather-filled pillow.  "You don't play
fair."

	"Nope.  But you like it."

	Eileen grinned.  "Yeah, but I like getting revenge better."

	"You think you're going to get me back tonight?"

	"Not tonight . . . but sometime when you least expect it."

	"I'll be ready."  She stuck out her tongue impishly, then sighed. 
"Do you think Vanessa's right?"

	"Course she's not."

	"Honestly."

	Eileen sighed.  "You know what they say about dishonest women?"

	"No.  What?"

	"They have life a hell of a lot easier.  I don't know, Jen.  I see
you wearing glasses almost every waking instant, I doubt I could even
imagine it if I didn't see you sleeping and showering."

	"But?"

	"Well . . . you've been letting your hair grow a bit longer lately,
right?"  Jen nodded; her red hair was now past her shoulders, and over the
last two years she'd gradually let it descend until it reached the small of
her back.  "Well, maybe losing the eyeglasses wouldn't be such a bad
change."

	Jen sniffed.  Nearsightedness and farsightedness were congenital
defects which children were still born with in the thirty-first century, but
surgeries to correct them were routine.  That is, they had been, until a
rash of botched surgeries in 3000 and 3001 CE.  Some blamed a lowering of
standards for surgical residents and examinations, others blamed the general
disarray of Crystal Tokyo following the Black Moon War.  Regardless of the
cause, the fact remained: thirty-four infants were blinded during supposedly
"routine" corrective eye surgery.  Most managed to recover to full vision
over the course of a decade of repeat surgeries, but six remained blind for
the rest of their lives.  There were some miracles even Crystal Tokyo's best
doctors simply could not perform.

	All this was in the back of the minds of Jennifer and Isao Sakachi
when their daughter was diagnosed with the beginning signs of myopia.  Born
in 2079, they grew up listening to the inquiries and hearings into the
failed surgeries, and so on that particular morning on the twenty-fifth of
May 3011, they ignored the doctor's advice and opted to have Jen fitted for
corrective lenses.

	Thirty-two years later, Jen was far too used to her glasses to give
them up.  There were as much a part of her as her blue eyes or her red hair. 
Changing any of them would be unthinkable, even if becoming able to live
without them was a simple hour-long procedure.  "It's who I am, Eileen.  I
can't go without them."  She smiled slightly.  "Would you give up your
ponytail?"

	Eileen chuckled.  "You've got a point, okay.  But don't tell me
you've never thought about it."

	"Not seriously."

	"Oh.  Well . . . at least you know now."

	Jen nodded.  "I'll talk to Vanessa about it some other time. 
There's something else we need to discuss, though."

	"What?"

	"Yusuke."


HMS Vulcan
2.9 Astronomical Units from Sol
10 July 3043
11:11 Lunar Standard Time

	Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai looked into the blackness of space, the
breathtaking panorama of the Milky Way just outside her window.  She never
really got bored of the sight; the only thing better was the view of Luna or
Terra in orbit.  At the moment she couldn't see any planets at all.

	HMS Vulcan was out of the plane of the ecliptic, moving to intercept
the flagship of the Royal Star Navy.  The carrier vessel HMS Furuhata was
out here somewhere.  Exactly where, neither she nor anyone on board knew. 
Finding the ship was an exercise in target acquisition and tracking she felt
her crew could do without, but some genius at headquarters decided it would
be a good test of Furuhata's evasion techniques.  Fuyuko was tempted to ask
what happened if they couldn't find the carrier, but decided she wasn't
feeling so lucky.

	So she and her ship wandered in the general area HMS Furuhata was
supposed to be, some four hundred million kilometers from the Sun.  Due to
the orbital positions of the planets, they were on the far side of the Sun
from Earth and Moon, and thus nearly a billion kilometers from home.  It was
at times like these Fuyuko realized just how vast and lonely the universe
truly was.

	A rapping came on the door of her office, and the captain sighed and
spun her chair away from the window.  "Come in."  Commander Tanazaki walked
in and saluted.  "At ease, Commander.  What's up?"

	"Not very much."  Katsumi's words were slightly slurred; she'd been
on very little sleep lately, trying to track down Furuhata and her fighters. 
"Sensors twigged on something a few minutes ago, but it's probably just a
comet.  We're checking it out anyway."

	Fuyuko nodded, steepling her fingers and resting her chin on her
hands.  "ETA?"

	"Another three minutes until passives can confirm or deny."  One of
the criteria for the exercise was they not use the powerful active sensor
platforms which Vulcan had received in her latest refit.  Instead they had
to rely on their passive arrays--which was a bit nerve-wracking, since they
hadn't been upgraded, and wouldn't be for another few years.

	Vulcan reflected the new design philosophy RSN shipbuilders had
adopted for the light cruiser class: inner-perimeter escorts for carriers. 
The new doctrine, worked out mostly in computer simulators, envisioned
carriers operating in task groups as the old wet-navy ships had.  Destroyers
would provide a protective shell around the carrier, using their passive
systems to find any approaching forces or lurkers.  Then the cruisers would
form a second, inner shell.  Slower, but more heavily armed and with
powerful active sensors which would hammer space for any stealthed ships
which passed through the destroyer screen.

	Fuyuko liked this arrangement, although she wished she had a
destroyer.  The smaller, lighter craft were much more maneuverable, and could
accelerate far more quickly.  She didn't mind her cruiser at all, though. 
It was a marked departure from the heavier, ponderous battlewagons the RSN
had preferred before.  Such large, crushing ships as HMS Titan and HMS
Oberon were designed to survive truly furious battles, with thick, heavy
armor to protect against both kinetic and energy attacks.  Vulcan and her
sisters, on the other hand, were designed to dodge, to run, to cut and slash
their way through opponents.

	HMS Pleiades had been the first example of this, even though it
wasn't planned.  Her performance in Sailor Orion's first mission had led to
a rethinking of shipbuilding which even now was in its experimental stages. 
So, for that matter, were the fighter craft HMS Furuhata carried, which was
one reason she was so far out of the ecliptic.  Even allies like the
European Union could not be allowed to see what designs were being tested
out here, but even the most powerful orbital telescope's wouldn't be able to
see the ships, especially with the glare of the sun intruding.

	Fuyuko yawned.  "Sounds good enough.  Want some coffee?  I just
brewed some."

	"Don't mind if I do, ma'am."  She waited while Fuyuko rose and
poured them both cups of coffee from the tiny kitchenette.  "Thank you.  I
haven't had a good night's sleep in ages."

	"It's only been a few days since we left Luna," Fuyuko pointed out.

	"Yeah, I know, it's just so hard.  Who'd know looking for something
in our own system could be so hard?  I just wish they'd let us go straight
to Furuhata without wasting out time trying to find her."  The first officer
sniffed.  "As if being a galactic taxi service wasn't bad enough."

	Fuyuko nodded and blew softly over the surface of her cup of
coffee, letting it cool.  "Speaking of which . . . I got a dispatch from
the Admiralty saying who the other senshi is we're supposed to be picking
up."

	"Who?"

	"Sailor Fomalhaut."

	"Sailor Fomalhaut?  Captain Sakagami?"  Katsumi nearly dropped her
cup.  "That's . . . that's . . . ."

	"That's the senshi who's senior to all of us, and who we'll obey and
treat with respect at all times, understood?"

	Katsumi sighed.  "Right.  I doubt Sailor Shaula would be willing to
ride herd on her?"

	"Unlikely."  Fuyuko let out a sigh of her own.  The senshi had their
characters.  Sailor Cassiopeia, for instance, had taken over the post of
Public Relations from Sailor America.  Despite the newer senshi's origins in
Crystal Tokyo, Sailor Cassiopeia learned quite a bit from her
mentor--including how to as loud, blunt, and abrasive as any American could
be.  The press was in a love/hate relationship with her as a result, which
suited the Queen just fine.

	Sailor Fomalhaut, born Kaori Sakagami, was another character.  She
was one of the first senshi, commissioned in 3003.  At that, she had been
old for the position, at nineteen.  While her intelligence and tactical
abilities had been second to none, she had one characteristic which nearly
kept her from being a senshi altogether: her sexual appetite.

	Kaori simply liked sex.  She'd started at a young age, and caused a
rather large scandal in her junior year of high school involving herself,
two tennis players, and a large chunk of the men's football team.  As far as
anyone could figure, Neo-Queen Serenity's hope had been that making her a
senshi would settle her down a bit.  After all, at the time the specter of
the Black Moon War still loomed large in everyone's minds, and the Queen was
willing to allow slightly lower standards than she would in later years.  As
long as Kaori could be loyal and hard-working, what she did in the bedroom
didn't matter too much.

	Unfortunately, her bedroom practices continued unabated.  In fact,
they grew more severe, perhaps because of the eternal youth and longevity
senshi abilities granted her.  She had the body of a nineteen year old, and
could be reasonably sure she would keep that body for centuries.  Given
that, she tore into her favorite hobby with a vengeance, never being too
particular as to her choice of partners, male or female.  The press was
generally encouraged not to look too closely into her personal life,
although the inevitable rumors surfaced.

	Captain Ichiyusai sighed and stared up at the gray ceiling of her
office.  She heard as many rumors as anyone, and having to share a ship with
someone as loose as Sailor Fomalhaut scarcely appealed to her.  She had to
admit it was a shrewd move by the Powers that Be, though.  At least it would
get her out of their hair for a few months.  

	"I'm not happy about it either, but it's what we have to do." She
pulled the official form out of a desk drawer and read it for the eighteenth
time.  "You will proceed to HMS Furuhata, there to take Sailors Shaula and
Fomalhaut, and transfer them by the fastest possible route to the colony of
Hinansho.  There, they will assume the temporary duties as coordinators of
planetary defense during the absence of Sailors Orion and America."

	"Ferry service."  Katsumi gulped down her coffee without regard for
its temperature.  Starships always seemed too cold for her, despite her
layered uniform.  "And here I thought getting the upgraded Fold drive would
be a bonus."

	"Oh, it's a bonus when we actually leave the system."  Neither
mentioned the additional penalties the new Fold system entailed.  To cram it
into the existing hull required more room than simply removing the old Fold
generator provided.  The cost had been in removing life support and storage
spaces until Vulcan's range was cut nearly in half.  By the time she reached
Hinansho, she would be forced to take on full loads of fuel and consumables. 
Newer ships coming after Vulcan would rely on greater automation and smaller
crews to compensate, but for now Vulcan got the worst of both worlds.  "A
bonus when we leave, but the devil when we stay."

	Katsumi rubbed her finger along the rim of her cup.  "I think we
should top off our hydrogen tanks once we find Furuhata.  She should have
two tenders with her, they can spare the fuel."

	"Agreed.  Vegetables too?"

	"Of course."  No ship ever had enough fresh fruits and vegetables,
and Vulcan lacked sufficient space for hydroponics.  They were limited to
what could be fit into the refrigerators, and their supplies were normally
gone in a matter of days.  "I heard from a friend of mine that they have
genuine Washington apples over there too."

	Fuyuko raised an eyebrow.  "Genuine?  From the NAC?"

	Katsumi shrugged.  "My friend didn't ask too closely about how they
got them.  In her place I wouldn't ask either."

	Fuyuko nodded.  Washington apples from the Pacific Northwest region
of the North American Confederation had become a delicacy in the Moon
Kingdom ever since the break from Earth.  They were only available by
importing from Europe or SEAA, and thus were terribly expensive.  "Well
then, we'll see about that then."  She looked at the comm system on her
desk.  "I guess the sensors confirmed it was a comet."

	"Probably."  Katsumi rose.  "I'll head back to the bridge to make
sure."

	"Thanks.  I figure . . . hello, what's this?"  The comm system
beeped insistently.  Fuyuko punched the receive button.  "This is the
captain."

	"Captain, this is the bridge," said the cool, husky voice of Satoko
Kashiwagi, the ship's chief tactical officer.  "Our sensors have twigged on
that object at range 12.8 light seconds, bearing zero-five-three mark
two-two-five.  It's definitely a recon drone from Furuhata, the ID beacon
matches."  She paused a moment, then resumed.  "With your permission, I'd
like to order an intercept course.  Lieutenant Etsuko says he can nail the
laser com if we get close enough and do a perimeter search."

	Fuyuko glanced at Katsumi, then nodded.  "Very well, Commander, you
may proceed.  Good work.  Captain out."  She leaned back in her chair and
smiled.  "The lieutenant commander does good work."

	"Very good," agreed Katsumi.  "If she keeps this up she'll get
promoted to full commander."

	"And lose her to some other ship."  The captain sighed.  "It'll be a
shame to see her go, but she's really too good to languish as a tac officer. 
She'll make a fine XO."

	"Well," Katsumi said after a pause, "I'll be on the bridge if you
need me."

	"I'll be up in a minute, just want to check on some things."  She
returned Katsumi's salute, then spun in her chair to watch the stars.  Even
now they curled and turned as Vulcan made her course change.  "Captain's
Log, supplemental entry.  As I sit here in the middle of nowhere, with all
the changes we've seen in the last year alone . . . why do I have the
unshakable suspicion things are only going to get weirder?"


Ai Furikato Senior High School
Nagano-2, Colony of Hinansho, Moon Kingdom
11 July 3043
14:08 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"So, taking that into account, I want you to go home and think about
my offer.  Talk it over with your parents, and come back in a couple days."
Jen crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, looking over the
lenses of her glasses.  "I mean it.  Two days at minimum."

	"Respectfully, Sakachi-sensei, I don't need to wait."  Yusuke stood
ramrod straight, hands folded behind his back.

	Jen sighed.  "Yusuke-kun, you're being given this time for a reason. 
I really wish Achika-chan had taken advantage of the time to think, and I
won't accept it if you jump into this as blindly as she did."

	Yusuke shook his head slightly.  "I'm sorry, Sakachi-sensei.  When
you brought it to Achika-chan . . . well, I had a lot of time to think about
what I would say if you offered it to me."  He looked out at the window.  It
was a cloudy day, still humid from the rain which had fallen that morning. 
Then he looked straight into Jen's eyes for the first time in his life.  "I
don't want to be a senshi."

	Jen blinked.  "I beg your pardon?" was the best she could manage.

	"I don't want to be a senshi."  There, he'd said it.  "I've seen
what you have to do, I've read about it . . . and I don't want any part of
it."

	The redhead's bemused expression slid into a frown.  This was not
going according to plan at all.  "Are you sure?  You realize that as a
senshi you'll be healthy, young, powerful . . . ."

	The schoolboy sighed.  "Sakachi-sensei, I appreciate the offer.  I
really do.  You could have picked anyone else on the planet, but you chose
me."  He licked his lips, which had suddenly become quite dry.  "I guess I'm
not as strong as Achika-chan, though.  I can't do it."

	Jen's frown deepened.  "Do you know what you're doing?  This is an
honor you can't just pass up!"

	"I can."  They were two of the hardest words he'd ever had to say.

	"You can't!"  Jen's voice rose in pitch and volume as she slid off
the desk, pacing angrily back and forth.  "You're the perfect choice to be
Sailor Mercury, Yusuke-kun, to make a difference in the Moon Kingdom!"

	Despite himself, Yusuke laughed.  It was all too much: being pulled
from his chess club meeting, having to meet with his teacher in this
first-year classroom, being told he could be a senshi despite the Y
chromosome handicap which had seemed insurmountable for centuries of
Serenity's rule.  The unexpected stress relieved itself in a single spate of
uproarious laughter, and Jen stared at him, dumbfounded.

	"A . . . a difference, Sakachi-sensei?"  He nearly doubled over, the
burgundy necktie of his uniform breaking free of its clip and hanging
perpendicular to the floor.  Hair masked his eyes, then he straightened.  "A
difference?"

	"Yusuke-kun . . . ."

	"I'm a guy, Sakachi-sensei.  I'm a *male*."  More laughter, although
it was gradually subsiding into something most people would consider merely
amused, and not hysterical.  "I'm male.  We don't *make* a difference in the
Moon Kingdom.  You're a historian, you should know that.  You should know
*how* that came to be."  He nodded at this shock sinking into Jen's blue
eyes.  "Yes, I paid more attention in your class than you thought."

	Jen blinked and sat heavily on the desk.  He was right.  It galled
her to admit it, but he was right.  Men simply counted less in the Moon
Kingdom, thanks to centuries of female rule.  Her shock faded to anger,
though.  Yes, that was the way things were, but who said things had to stay
that way?  The Queen obviously felt all those years of misandrous policy
needed to be reversed at the highest possible levels, so what right did
Yusuke have to refuse?  As an ancient Earth philosopher once observed, 'if
you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.' She squared
her shoulders.  She wouldn't let it be said that Captain Jennifer Sakachi,
Ph. D., was part of the problem.

	"You'll regret this, Yusuke-kun.  For the rest of your life, you'll
wonder what might have happened if you'd taken this chance, and you'll wish
you had.  You could have been able to take part in the most sweeping social
revolution in the history of our society."

	Yusuke looked away.  "I'm not a revolutionary.  I'm not a reformer. 
Things are the way they are . . . do I wish they were different?  Yes, but
I'm not going to do anything to change them.  Let someone else do it."  A
small, sardonic smile.  "A woman."

	Jen narrowed her eyes.  There was one trump card left to play.  "And
what about Achika-san?  You're throwing away your only realistic chance to
be with her, you know."

	A whisper.  "I know."

	"And?"  Yusuke's next words came so softly, Jen was forced to lean
forward in order to catch them.

	"In civics class they teach us the Royal motto.  I don't remember
the Latin, but I remember the Japanese.  'For Love and Justice.'  I think
that . . . I think Achika-chan has decided she'd rather uphold the justice
than follow her love."

	Jen's heels clicked on the floor as she stood.  "If you think that,
you don't know Achika-san very well.  But, if you're certain this isn't what
you want to do, I won't bully you into it.  So, for the last time . . . yes,
or no?"

	"No, Sakachi-sensei."

	"I see."  She sighed.  "Well, thank you for your time anyway.  I
hope you've made the right choice for yourself."

	"I hope so too."  But she was already gone and out the door,
stalking down the hallway, barely able to see anything through the haze of
red.

	She wasn't used to rejection; her life had been an almost
uninterrupted success story.  She also wasn't used to anyone refusing to be
a senshi.  True, there had been occasions in the past where a girl accepted
to the School declined enrollment.  Such students were generally either
pacifists, or simply had no real ambition to proceed further.  Despite this,
they were generally assured admission at any college they chose.

	No-one, however, had ever passed the rigors of the School, been
chosen to be a senshi, and then refused.  If archaeological records found on
the Moon were to be believed--and with the supplemental memories of some
planet senshi, there was little reason not to--even in the ancient Moon
Kingdom there had never been a refusal.

	The historian in her wanted to quirk a smile.  She wondered if
Yusuke realized how special he was, not only in becoming the first male to
be offered the rights and responsibilities of a senshi, but in becoming the
first person--of any gender--to refuse those rights and responsibilities.

	As a woman and a senshi, though, she was more furious than she'd
been in years. It was a slap in the face to her and to what she stood for,
and she couldn't stand it.  She felt actual physical rage for the first time
since the alien invasion of 3041.  Jen cast a longing glance at the glass
window of a door, but decided against smashing it.

	She settled for a scream of frustration.


9 Kouka Street
21:17 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Eileen Pearcy walked along the sidewalk of Kouka Street, looking up
at the starry sky above.  Three bright-moving dots streaked across the
northern sky, probably fighter craft out on maneuvers.  She remembered one of
the endless reports Jen had given her, stating the change in exercise
patterns from early morning to evening.

	She shoved her hands in the pockets of her short tan shorts and
continued.  For what she had to do, it would probably have been best to be
in uniform, but despite her fiancee's suggestions, she decided to dress
casually.  It was part of her attempt to make this work.

	Jen had told her all about her failure to recruit Yusuke.  She'd
been nearly to the point of tears, and during it all Eileen was very careful
not to point out how little point there was in being brokenhearted over
things.  Eileen really didn't understand the big deal; if Yusuke didn't want
to be a senshi, he didn't want to be a senshi.  It was no skin off her nose,
and he'd probably be happier in the long run to have a normal life.

	She made the turn up the driveway of the Ashida home.  She'd been
there before, once, following the funeral of Ensign Chiaki Ashida.  It had
struck her as a very nice home, neatly kept, with a verdant lawn even in
winter.  Now she noticed the edges of the lawn around the sidewalk and
driveway were a bit high, and a couple weeds stuck out like sores in one
corner.  Not much else could be seen in the darkness; even that was only
possible because of the lights of passing cars and the large streetlights
which was directly in front of the house.

	The brunette reached the door and knocked gently, brushing a couple
stray cookie crumbs from her pale blue cotton shirt.  She'd baked a batch of
soft chocolate chip cookies, mostly to keep herself busy on her first day of
leave.  Once Jen came in and told her sob story, she'd let her have the
whole batch and munched on a couple leftovers on her way to Takeshi's home.

	"Hm, no answer."  Eileen knocked again, then noticed a brass
doorbell and rang it as well.  "Come on, don't you earn enough to have an SI
open the damn door?" She paced on the faded wooden boards of the porch,
glaring at the yellow light of a lamp on the inside of the nearest window.

	Finally, the door opened a crack, and a small girl's face peeked
out.  "Yes?  Oh, Pearcy-san!"  The door opened completely, and the girl's
pale white hand beckoned her inside.  "Come in, please, we've been expecting
you."

	Eileen grinned.  "Thanks."  They certainly should have expected her;
it wasn't every day a sailor senshi called and asked to meet with an entire
family.

	Ordinarily she would have waited a day or so.  There was still
plenty of time before their deadline in August, after all, and if she'd
taken the time to research the Ashida family more closely she might have
found the buttons she needed to push in order to get Takeshi on board. 
However, two things drove her.  

	The first was her desire to make Jen feel better about losing her
first choice.  To be brutally honest with herself, Eileen felt Yusuke hadn't
been such a good pick in the first place--he wasn't enough of a risk taker,
and smacked too much of the typical, docile thirty-first century man who was
a dime a dozen.  She'd wanted someone with more spunk and determination,
preferably the captain of the ice hockey team.  However, as Jen pointed out
to her, there were no ice hockey teams on Hinansho.

	The second thing related to the deadline.  True, there was lots of
time.  To be exact, there were twenty-two days until their departure for
Luna, and on the one hand that was a lot of time to look for candidates.  On
the other hand, the more time spent preparing those candidates for the
duties they were about to assume, the better.  Sailor Saturn had charged Jen
and Eileen to teach as well as to select, and every day going by without a
Sailor Mercury-designate was a day of teaching and instruction wasted.  If
they were going to pick Yusuke as a senshi, then in Eileen's opinion they
should have done it the same day as Achika.  If they were going to pick
Takeshi, they should do it immediately--if he said no, then they should
waste no time going to their third choice, then fourth, then fifth.

	Time, after all, was wasting.

	Eileen walked through the foyer and into the living room, noticing
at once its austerity.  It struck her as a very gloomy place to live,
despite the bright lighting and cheerful paintings on the wall.  One in
particular caught her eye: a brown-and-black kitten playing with a ball of
string.  It was remarkably lifelike, and she suddenly wished to meet the
artist.

	"Chiaki painted it," said the heavyset man who sat in a corner of
the room, his elbows propped up on the sides of his black leather armchair. 
Eileen recognized him instantly; his name and face had come up a number of
times in reports she'd done.  He was a rising star on the Nagano-2 stock
exchange, although what he did with the money was anyone's guess.  His brown
eyes softened slightly, as if it really were possible for such steely orbs
to soften, and the gruff voice went on.  "She loved painting.  Never had
enough time for it, really."

	Eileen nodded once, unsure of what to say.  She settled for a polite
bow to him and to the lanky teenage boy sitting stiffly on a black couch
against the wall.  "Good evening Ashida-san, Takeshi-san, Yuki-chan."  She
smiled at the last.  "Thanks for allowing me to see you on such short
notice."

	Hakuseki Ashida nodded as gravely as if it were optional to allow a
senshi to visit when she asked.  "You're always welcome in our home,
Pearcy-san.  Won't you have a seat, please?"

	"Don't mind if I do," said Eileen, using intentionally rustic
Japanese to set them at ease.  She sat next to Yuki on the leather love seat,
crossing her tanned legs and observing the reactions of the two men. 
Hakuseki showed a slight glimmer of interest, though he hid it admirably by
leaning forward and picking up a scrap of paper on the brown carpet. 
Takeshi didn't seem to notice at all.

	The senshi flicked her handlink out of nowhere with practiced ease. 
She'd managed to make it look like she was simply pulling it from her
physical pocket, unlike Jen who seemed to delight in brazenly plucking it
out of thin air.  "So, how are things?  We haven't talked in awhile, how's
the market?"

	Hakuseki didn't smile.  Eileen gained the impression he didn't smile
often at all.  "Bullish.  Very bullish; this business with the senshi is
driving instability, and a number of defense contracts are boosting the
economy, to say nothing of opening up trade with Europe and . . . oh,
sorry."  Eileen bit back a laugh; the man sounded anything but apologetic. 
"I guess I've given that particular speech too many times."  He narrowed his
eyes.  "I'm not sure why you've come.  Is it something to do with Chiaki?"
Involuntarily his eyes went to the kitten.

	Eileen shook her head gently.  "No."  She decided not to say more;
anything else she said would merely reopen old wounds.  "Actually, this
concerns your son."

	"And what has he done now?  I've told him time and again to-"

	Eileen raised her hand to stop him.  "Please, Ashida-san, this really
is important, and I don't want to take up any more of your time than is
necessary.  You can ask all the questions you want afterward."  Hakuseki
nodded grudgingly, and Eileen continued with a smile.  "You no doubt know
that Takeshi-san is a very exceptional child.  Bright, talented . . . did
you know he's considered a career in the military?  Navy, I believe."

	"Marines," corrected Takeshi quietly.  Hakuseki scowled.  Eileen
kept smiling.

	"In any case, Ashida-san, Takeshi-san has demonstrated a willingness
to help and protect the Moon Kingdom from its enemies in whatever way he
can.  That's the reason I've come here . . . to make him an offer."  She
barely bit back the line about it being an offer he couldn't refuse.  After
all, the last person to be given such an offer had refused anyway.

	"Offer? What, to join the Navy?"

	"Marines," interjected Takeshi.

	"Neither," said Eileen coolly.  "A senshi."

	In the silence that followed, it was Yuki's high voice that broke
the ice.  "A sailor senshi?"

	Eileen turned and bent down to Yuki's eye level.  She noticed Yuki
had green eyes to go with her red hair.  It matched her brother's exactly. 
"Yes, a sailor senshi.  The sailor senshi of Mercury, to be exact."

	Takeshi stared at Eileen with a burning intensity.  "Are you
serious, Pearcy-san?"

	"Yep.  With the planet senshi retirement, we have to replace them. 
Her Majesty personally charged myself and Jennifer with choosing two
replacements, and we'd like Takeshi-san to be one of them."  Out of the
corner of her eye, Eileen noticed Hakuseki's face turning an alarming shade
of vermilion.

	"Okay.  You wouldn't be asking me if it weren't possible, would
you?"

	Eileen nodded.  "The Queen says she can do it.  I'm inclined to
believe her."  She turned to Hakuseki.  "Ashida-san, before you say
anything, I think you should consider exactly what this entails.  It's a bit
step, I'm not going to kid you.  He'll have to drop out of school and go
into intensive training from now until he leaves for Luna in August.  He's
not likely to come back to Hinansho for decades, if that.  And . . . like
all of us, he'll have to be willing to lay down his life for Queen and
Kingdom.

	"On the other hand," she said before the father could get a word in
edgewise, "he'll also be able to provide quite handsomely for you and
Yuki-chan here, receive a real-world education in military tactics,
diplomacy, and politics second to none, live for centuries, if not
millennia, and become a part of the most elite and exclusive fighting force
in the history of humankind." She waggled her eyebrows.  "Not a bad deal,
eh?"

	Yuki giggled.  Even Takeshi smiled slightly.  Hakuseki frowned. 
"Wait just a minute, here.  I'm not sure I want my son subjected to that
kind of danger."

	"What rational parent would?" Eileen agreed.  "You only want what's
best for your child, and that's perfectly natural.  Now then, you want him
to be successful, right?"

	"Yes, but-"

	"Okay then, now what could be more successful than to be a planet
senshi?  I mean, honestly, you want him in investment banking for the rest
of his life?  Where's the challenge in that?"  She leaned forward. 
"He's got a fine mind, Ashida-san.  I don't think either of us want him
locked into a dead-end job where he can't use it to the fullest."

	"I was an investment banker for a year, Pearcy-san," growled
Hakuseki.

	"Right, so you know what I'm talking about.  Look at it this way. 
You want him to follow your footsteps.  Great, all well and good, but that
isn't what *he* wants.  He *could* go and join the Marines, after all."

	"That's out of the question."  Looking at him, Eileen had to admit
he would do everything in his power to prevent his son joining the Marines,
or for that matter the Navy.  It wasn't too hard to figure out why, either;
the Royal Star Navy had killed his wife, as far as he was concerned, and he
wouldn't lose another family member to them.  Of course, the alternative was
to let his son run said Navy.

	"Well then, we have an alternative.  And if you're concerned about
his safety, well . . . he's only seventeen.  We don't expect him to save the
world until he's nineteen at minimum.  Even then, he'll probably need much
more training before he'll be a full replacement for the original Sailor
Mercury."  She paused to give her words time to sink in.  Takeshi wouldn't
be subjected to any real danger until his twenties.  On the other hand, in a
few months he would be eighteen, and could enlist in the military without
parental consent.

	"Are you sure he can handle this?"

	Eileen grinned.  She had him.  "If we weren't sure, Ashida-san, I
wouldn't be here.  Jennifer and I have the utmost confidence in him."

	"But-"

	"No buts.  Only one senshi ever proved unworthy of being a senshi,
and even in the end she was . . . redeemed." She shrugged her shoulders. 
Redemption was her interpretation of the afternoon in 1998 she'd spent at
the top of Tokyo Tower, in any case.  She couldn't provide any proof, but
for affairs of the heart, proof was unnecessary.  "Believe me, if he meets
Her Majesty's approval--and with mine and Jen's recommendation, he probably
will--then he's as good as gold."

	Hakuseki rubbed his chin.  "I see.  You're asking a lot of me,
Pearcy-san."

	Eileen nodded in agreement.  "Yes, I am.  And a lot of Takeshi-san,
too.  But he can handle it."

	Takeshi blinked twice.

	"We'll see about that."  Hakuseki grunted and stood.  "Thank you for
coming, Pearcy-san.  I'll consider these matters and have an answer for you
as soon as possible."

	The brunette stood, briefly tugging her shorts down from where
they'd ridden up while she sat.  "Right.  Although to be honest, the answer
isn't yours to give.  It's Takeshi-san's."

	"What?" yelped Takeshi and Hakuseki at the same time.

	Eileen smiled slightly.  "Oh, I'm sorry.  I must not have been clear
with what I was saying.  Takeshi is the candidate, and in the end it's his
choice, without the necessity of parental consent.  Telling you and letting
you know about everything is just a courtesy, nothing more.  While it would
be nice to have you on board . . . Her Majesty does need senshi."  She left
the rest unsaid.  "If you could let me know what your plans are in the
morning, I'd appreciate it.  Good night."

	She bowed politely and gave Yuki a reassuring smile.  The girl's
formerly worried expression disappeared, and she went to open the door for
Eileen.  "Good night, Pearcy-san."  The door clicked shut, then locked.

	Eileen sighed heavily.  "Christ, harder than I thought."  She
checked her watch: 21:40.  Still enough time for a nice hot bath.  Then she
could report back to Jen and soothe the redhead's jangled nerves.  Having
Sailors Mercury and Uranus in the bag would definitely be a feather in her
cap.  She fairly skipped down the driveway, then skidded to a halt as a very
high-pitched scream came from the house.

	Later, she was never able to determine just what her thought process
was.  As far as she could tell, she'd operated purely on instincts she never
knew she had.  She spun in a half-turn, her hand reaching to the sky even as
a familiar rod materialized in her palm.  Her fingers curled around it, and
she felt the familiar tingle of anticipation run down her arm, into her
spine, spiking to the rest of her body as her mouth opened and the words
came.  "America Crystal Power, Make-Up!"

	Her shirt and shorts vanished, replaced in an instant of pristine
nudity with her red, white, and blue sailor fuku.  She felt a brief moment
of euphoria, and then it was time for work.

	One step, and she was on the front lawn.  Two steps, and she was on
the porch.  Three, and the door was gone, disintegrating into splinters
under the impact of a single twenty-three centimeter long red high-heeled
shoe.  Four, and Yuki was cowering on the stairs, Takeshi was sprawled on
the floor, and Hakuseki was being raised thirty centimeters off the floor,
the collar of his shirt held in Sailor America's very firm grip.

	"Go ahead.  Give me a good reason to throw you through that wall. 
Please."  She smiled.  Child abuse simply wasn't tolerated in the Moon
Kingdom, and she had even less tolerance than most.  She'd met enough
victims of the crime herself as a teenager.

	Hakuseki gabbled something.  It was rather difficult for Sailor
America to pick it out.  She let go of his shirt, granting him little relief
as she immediately took hold of his throat, then stopped at a voice from the
floor.

	"Sailor America . . . please, don't!"

	She turned her head and looked over at Takeshi.  A bruise was
already developing on his cheek.  "Don't?  Why not, after what he did to
you?"  She squeezed ever so slightly.

	Takeshi struggled to his feet, rubbing his jaw.  "It was my fault. 
I told him . . . I told him I wanted to be a senshi."

	"And?" asked Sailor America with infinite patience.  Hakuseki
turned slightly blue.

	"I'd rather not say."

	"You mean you'd rather not put your father in hotter water than he
already is."  She was surprised again, this time by a tug on the back bow of
her uniform.

	"He's not a bad man," said Yuki.  Sailor America blinked, seeing
tears running down her cheeks.  "He just . . . gets angry sometimes, since
Mom died.  Please, don't hurt him!"

	Sailor America gazed at Yuki, trying to rein in her temper.  She
felt something click inside her, and and she knew she was back in control. 
Close.  Too close.

	Nothing would have made her happier than to throw Hakuseki through
the window, then plant her heel on his throat and wait for the police to
take him away.  Unfortunately, Jen would probably get mad at her for it, and
it would be of dubious legality anyway.

	She sighed and contemptuously tossed Hakuseki to the chair he'd
occupied earlier.  He landed with an 'umph!' and winced, barely realizing
through his panicked haze how lightly he'd gotten off.  Only later would he
figure out she hadn't cared enough to even hurt him.

	"Fine."  Sailor America took a step toward Takeshi, looking him
over for any injuries which might not be readily apparent.  "Did he hit you
anywhere else?"

	"N-no . . . just my face."

	"How many times?"

	"Four."

	Sailor America nodded.  "Yuki," she said without turning around,
"you and Takeshi are going to be all right, okay?  Nobody is going to hurt
you.  But your father is going to have to go away for a bit." Both children
nodded, and the senshi breathed a sigh of relief.  "Takeshi, why don't you
go get some ice to put on your face?  Yuki can go with you."

	The siblings took the hint and departed, leaving Sailor America with
a gibbering Hakuseki Ashida.  "You're never going to be with them again, not
while I have breath in my body.  I hope you realize that." She pulled out
her communicator and pushed two buttons in quick succession.  "Hi, Sammy? 
Yeah, this is . . . no, not an emergency per se, just a little housekeeping. 
I need a police dispatch to Nine Kouka Street.  They're going to be picking
up Hakuseki Ashida . . . yes, Takeshi's dad."

	She glared at the person in question.  "He's to be arrested on the
charges of assault, domestic disturbance, and child abuse.  Oh, and he's
also to undergo a parental fitness examination on my authority." A pause. 
"Yes, exactly.  I have him in custody, though, so they don't need to rush. 
I'm sure he's not going anywhere."

	Sailor America grinned, and Hakuseki Ashida watched his future go up
in smoke.


Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
14 July 3043
07:55 Lunar Standard Time

	Sailor Cassiopeia blinked at the tune being hummed by Eisaku Hirota. 
The dark-haired man held a handlink, reading a document if his eye movements
were any indication.  "What is that?"

	Eisaku looked up from his place at the long wooden table.  "European
news nets.  This one is based in Helsinki, they're more conservative than
most and-"

	"Um, sorry, wasn't clear."  Sailor Cassiopeia sat across from him
and brushed a curly lock of hair from her eyes.  "What song were you
humming?"

	"Oh!"  The ambassador chuckled and bowed in apology.  "Sorry, guess
I was a bit too loud.  The song is 'La Marseillaise,' and it's an old French
song." Briefly he looked around the table to be certain of his manners.  It
had only been a week since he was invited to the daily strategy and planning
breakfasts Queen Serenity II liked to have, and he was unsure of proper
procedures.  In this case, he didn't remember if it was acceptable to sip
the coffee which had been poured for him before the Queen arrived.  Seeing
Sailor Cassiopeia take a sip, he was emboldened and added cream and sugar.

	"'La Marseillaise?'  I don't think I've heard the name."  Sailor
Cassiopeia shrugged.  "Of course, I never took French.  Just Italian,
Russian, Mandarin, English, and Arabic."

	"Oh, is that all?"  Sailor Phoenix smirked and took a gulp of her
own glass of orange juice.  "Let's see . . . Mandarin, English, Russian,
Hebrew, French, Spanish, Welsh, Hindu, Sanskrit."  The petite senshi
shrugged.  "I'll probably try picking up Arabic next year."

	Eisaku looked between the two, shaking his head ruefully.  "Just my
luck to sit at a table with a couple linguists."

	Sailor Cassiopeia shrugged.  "Hey, we're senshi.  We have to be
smart, it's in the job description."

	"Well, yes, but you know seven languages, Sailor Phoenix knows . . .
what, ten?"

	"It's not that hard if you start early," said Rear Admiral Atsuko
Nagai, the fourth person at the table.  She was a small, shy woman with
short-cropped pink hair and shockingly innocent red eyes.  Despite her
youthful appearance, she was in fact one of the most decorated non-senshi
officers in the Royal Star Navy.  She was also deputy director of the
Shipbuilding Board, and thus one of the masterminds behind the current
rethinking of the fleet's ship mixture.  "Don't you know a few yourself,
Ambassador?"

	The sole male shrugged.  Unlike everyone else in the room, who were
either in senshi uniform or dress naval, he was in a blue suit and tie. 
That, in addition to his being male, added to his feeling out of place.  The
Queen had personally requested his presence, though, so there was little to
be done about the matter.  "I suppose so.  All my languages are European,
however: English, French, German, Russian."  He smiled slightly.  "And I'm
working on Spanish."

	"See?  Linguistics isn't too hard, you just need good teachers."
Sailor Cassiopeia regarded her muddy-brown coffee for a long moment before
downing half of it.  "And whatever the flaws of our system, we teach
languages wonderfully, even if we have more than our share of xenophobes."

	Eisaku nodded and sipped his own coffee.  A decade ago it would be
unheard of to say such a thing.  Just a couple years ago it would have been
impolite at best.  While disturbing to some hard-liners, the candor which
existed today was refreshing to Eisaku, who was used to viewing the Moon
Kingdom from the perspective of a European outsider.  He opened his mouth to
reply, then promptly shut it and pushed back his seat, standing as Sailor
Saturn walked in, immediately followed by Serenity II and Diana.

	The Queen today wore a pink sleeveless blouse and a white skirt
which came to just above the knees.  Eisaku had grown used to seeing the
Queen out of her usual white and pink formal attire.  He had to admit she
looked rather fetching in it; just because he preferred men didn't mean he
couldn't appreciate feminine beauty.  "Good morning, Your Majesty," he said
in unison with the other persons around the table.

	She smiled.  "Good morning, everyone.  I'm glad you're all here
bright and early.  Please, sit down." She sat at the armchair at the head of
the table, which was plain pine with a pink cushion in the seat and on the
back.  The top of the chair's back was carved with the crescent moon and
heart of the Moon Kingdom, a golden crown set above it.  It poked her in the
head slightly as she sat, and she suppressed a wince.  At her right sat
Sailor Saturn, with the feline Diana as her opposite.  Then sat Sailors
Cassiopeia and Phoenix, and at the end of the table were Eisaku and Rear
Admiral Nagai at the end.  They all sat a second after the Queen.

	Eisaku straightened his tie and wiggled his toes in his black shoes. 
Taking another sip of his coffee, he glanced at his handlink and saw it was
still scrolling the Finnish news wire.  He promptly reached out to stab the
pause button with his finger, creating a small beep.  Atsuko looked up at
this and smiled slightly.

	The Queen glanced at one of the maids.  "I think we're ready to
eat now; no need to make everyone starve longer."

	"Of course, Your Majesty," replied the girl, barely fifteen and
terribly nervous to be serving her sovereign so closely.  She spun and
walked toward the door to fetch the rest of the servants and the breakfast
which had already been prepared.  

	Diana watched her go, and smiled.  "She did well for her first
time."

	"That was her first?" asked Serenity II.  Her eyebrows rose as Diana
nodded.  "I'm surprised, she handled herself pretty good.  I would have
thought she'd handled it a thousand times."  She smiled ruefully at the look
Sailor Saturn gave her.  "Of course, it's not as if she has a very important
task to do.  It would be just as easy for me to push a button and have them
bring in the breakfast . . . what is it, today?"

	"Waffles," said Sailor Cassiopeia.  This week it was her turn to
provide instructions to the kitchen.  "Belgian waffles, with tons of butter,
syrup, blueberries . . . ."

	"Kami, stop please.  I'm gaining weight just thinking about it!"
exclaimed Atsuko, blushing slightly.  The others chuckled.

	"I hope you won't resort to rice cakes and spring water, Admiral,"
said Sailor Phoenix, winking.

	"Um . . . well, I suppose I could just put on some extra time in the
gym after this, ma'am."

	Eisaku smiled and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher
at the center of the table.  "You and I both, Nagai-san."

	"How goes the senshi selection?" asked the Queen.

	"Fairly well," said Sailor Phoenix.  Sailor Shaula was even now
being dispatched to Hinansho colony to temporarily take over its defense
while Sailors Orion and America returned to Luna, and the shortest senshi
was assuming the senshi selection program.  "I have the full list of
candidates from Venus.  Would you believe sixty-eight percent of them are
blonde?"

	"Nothing wrong with blondes," said Sailor Cassiopeia defensively. 
She self-consciously patted her blonde curls.  "'Sides, everyone from Venus
is blonde anyway."

	"Not *that* many."  She smirked, then resumed a more serious
expression as she looked up to the head of the table.  "Twenty-three girls,
ranging from fifteen years, twenty-two days to . . . ," she checked her
handlink, "eighteen years, three hundred eight days." The brown-haired
senshi shrugged.  "She was exceptional in all over respects.  Sailor Wezea
figured she'd at least give her a shot."

	Saturn glanced at Serenity II, who shook her head.  "Too old, sorry. 
You can cross her off your list."

	Sailor Phoenix shrugged and removed the name.  "Let's see, next is
Mars.  Sailor Mirzam has been going much more slowly; she's still in the
preliminary stages of rooting out unsuitables."

	"Still?  It's been two weeks, that's plenty of time."  The Queen
frowned.  "What explanation has she given?"

	"She said Martians are an unusually stubborn lot, and so are their
computers.  She's apparently having a devil of a time getting anything out
of the records there."

	Sailor Saturn blinked.  "How odd."  All computers in the Moon
Kingdom used the same basic operating system, and in theory were supposed to
behave the same.  In actuality, local customization tended to make them vary
a bit.  Regardless, there was no reason Sailor Mirzam should have had any
difficult whatsoever pulling data.  "I'll contact her and try to get a
better explanation."

	At this point, the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of
breakfast.  Two silver carts were wheeled in, each laden with several plates
of waffles liberally slathered with butter, syrup, and blueberries. 
Alongside them were generous portions of scrambled eggs, rice, potatoes, and
muffins.  Eisaku's mouth immediately watered; he'd skipped dinner the
previous night due to a lengthy call to the Moon Kingdom embassy on Earth.

	"Thanks," said the Queen shortly, taking her napkin and placing it
in her lap.  The others followed suit as she began to eat.  "I'll say one
thing about an examination, it was so much easier than trying to pick
someone myself." She sighed.

	"Speaking of which," said Sailor Phoenix, "I have a list of
candidates for you as far as Sailor Neptune is concerned.  It's rather
short, I'm afraid."  She sliced her waffles into six equal pieces deftly.

	"How short?"

	"Six girls."

	Serenity II stared at Sailor Phoenix, a dollop of eggs falling from
her fork.  "Only six?  The Lunar population is over twelve million!"

	"Correct, Your Majesty."  Sailor Phoenix folded her arms on the
table and leaned forward.  "However, Luna has a disproportionately low
number of families with children.  Most of those with families chose to move
to the colonies and start new lives; to a very large extent, the only
families left here are attached to military personnel or government
workers."

	"Still . . . ."

	"Still, Your Majesty, there simply aren't very many females in the
target age group.  Once you impose the education and physical requirements,
it goes down even more.  I'm ashamed to say it, but Luna children simply
aren't very strong compared to their counterparts on Terra, Venus, or Mars."

	The Queen nodded with resignation.  Despite decades of habitation,
many Lunar installations remained at a natural one-sixth standard gravity. 
The installation of artificial gravity generators had been painstakingly
slow, mostly because the discovery of grav plates had come after many of the
bases were built.  Refitting them for standard gravity essentially involved
rebuilding the whole complex, which in turn required building new complexes
to house those displaced during reconstruction.  In many ways it would be
cheaper and more efficient simply to move the seat of government elsewhere
on the Moon, but tradition held them close to Mare Serenitatis.

	"Okay," she said after a long moment.  "Can I have the list?"

	"Already in your mailbox.  Oh, come to think of it, I got something
rather interesting in mine."  Sailor Phoenix giggled in spite of herself. 
"While we've been dragging our heels here, Sailors Orion and America have
already picked Sailors Mercury and Uranus."

	Eyebrows went up all around the room.  "Already?" asked Atsuko.

	Sailor Phoenix shrugged.  "It's somewhat necessary for them.  They
had less time to make the decision."

	"Well, I'm glad they've done it," said Sailor Saturn with a smile. 
"Especially with the smaller population of Hinansho, I expected it would
take them much longer."

	The Queen smirked in a very unregal manner.  "I told you Sakachi-san
and Pearcy-san knew what they were about."  She glanced at Sailor Phoenix. 
"So, who are the choices?"

	Sailor Phoenix pushed away her now-empty plate and pushed several
buttons on her handlink.  In response, from the ceiling dropped a display
screen at the foot of the table, translucent until words and images flashing
on it.  Eisaku leaned back, dabbing at his mouth with his linen napkin.  It
had been a rather large breakfast, and already he felt the need for more
coffee just to stay awake.  His eyes drooped slightly as he regarded the
display.

	It was split into two.  Both sides showed a color picture in the 
upper left corner, with biographical information filling the remaining space.
The face on the right was smiling impishly, an open face framed with emerald
hair and distinguished by two large red eyes.  "The girl," said Sailor
Phoenix, "is Achika Shibata, aged fifteen years, ten months, two days.
Slightly advanced for her age, she'll enter her final year of high school in
the fall.  High marks in all subjects except painting and drawing, intended
to pursue a career in history.  A class II-A candidate for the Naval
Academy.  Parents are Eri and Tadasuke Shibata.  Dr. Eri Shibata is one of
our top researchers at the Sentient Life Institute, actually."

	She sipped her orange juice and glanced around to make sure everyone
was with her, then moved to the other picture, showing a boy with slightly
narrowed eyes, tousled red hair framing a face which had both intelligence
and a certain bitter sorrow in its verdant eyes.  "The boy is Takeshi
Ashida, aged seventeen years, four months, fourteen days.  Just about done
with high school.  Again, high marks.  Very high marks, actually, his
average is almost perfect.  Perhaps a *bit* weak in mathematics, but not by 
much.  Hm . . . actually, he's described as having excellent physical 
abilities, but no sports.  And his father was arrested the night Takeshi 
agreed to be a senshi.  Child abuse case."

	"Not an auspicious beginning," said Sailor Cassiopeia.  "The press
would have a field day with us ripping children from their parents.  How did
the senshi handle the situation?"

	"I'm not sure.  Sailor Orion has nothing to say, and Sailor America
said she'd prefer to wait until the release of the official police report."

	"Did she tell the press?"

	"Apparently not.  I'd think you would have heard about it if she
did."

	"Right."  Sailor Cassiopeia sighed and forced herself to relax;
After all, Sailor America had been her mentor.  She'd know how to handle the
news media.  "How's the kid, anyway?"

	"Oh, fine.  Slight bruising to the face, it's probably been repaired
by now.  This was a couple days ago, we only got notification today."

	Serenity II stared at the images.  "Magnify, please."  The pictures
obligingly took up the entire screen.  Two teenagers, one boy and one girl,
who she'd never met or heard of until now.  She tried to divine something of
them from the simple identification photos.  What were they like?  What did
they do for fun?  Did they know right from wrong?  How did they feel about
her?  Would they die for the Moon Kingdom?  Would they die for *her*?

	She sighed.  All she could tell from the pictures was that Achika
liked cameras more than Takeshi.  She'd have to rely on the judgment of the
two Hinansho senshi.  Then again, she'd always known she would.  She
blinked, then bit back a giggle at another realization.  Achika's green hair
posed no real problem, but it would be difficult to reconcile Takeshi's red
hair with the traditional blue colors of Sailor Mercury.

	"Hirota-san?"

	The ambassador blinked and put down his coffee.  "Yes, Your
Majesty?"

	"Do you see any problems coming from Europe on these choices?"

	"Um . . . respectfully, Your Majesty, I don't know enough about
either of them to say.  Teenagers rarely manage to make enemies out of
entire nations."

	The Queen shook her head.  "No.  What I'm getting at is whether the
EU, or any other Earth confederation for that matter, has anything to fear
from them.  Any hints of favoritism you see?"

	Eisaku barely held back her frown.  "Again, Your Majesty, I'm not in
a position to judge such a thing."

	"Oh, but you are."  She smiled.  "You've had no involvement in the
process whatsoever, so you're in a position to see the situation in an
unbiased way.  Would you like to take a moment to look at the data Sailor
Phoenix has received?"

	"Erm, of course."  He picked up his handlink with a hand which
trembled ever so slightly.  The data receive indicator was already flashing,
telling him that the link was being sent information from another source--in
this case, the handlink Sailor Phoenix held.  As he looked through the more
detailed report sent from Hinansho, the Queen moved on.

	"Okay, so Mars and Venus are stalled, Mercury and Uranus are set,
Neptune is . . . a work in progress.  That leaves Jupiter."  She looked at
the women who no-one else yet knew was her fiancee.  "Have you gotten in
touch with the Kenyan officials?"

	The senshi of silence nodded.  "Education records are sketchy, but
yes.  I'll have a full list of candidates in a couple days."

	Eisaku leaned forward.  "If you don't mind my asking, Sailor Saturn,
how many candidates will you consider?"

	"At least three hundred.  I've tried to make a good sampling of the
entire continent, but some regions simply aren't viable.  The Moroccan
coast, for instance, is developing ties to the Arab Union and won't allow me
access to their files.  We *could* go in and snatch someone we really
needed, and we could break into their computer records to pick that person,
but I don't think kidnapping is a good idea."  She smiled slightly, and
Sailor Cassiopeia chuckled.

	Serenity II nodded.  "Most likely?"

	"Most likely, I should have a short list in a week.  Right now
there's a particular girl from Nairobi I have my eye on."

	"Good."  She leaned back in her chair, scratching her right temple
thoughtfully.  "I think we should try to have the rest of the designates
selected by the time Takeshi-san and Achika-san depart from Hinansho."

	"Good idea, Your Majesty," said Sailor Phoenix, nodding.  "We can
send them all the data we have, they can spend the trip getting acquainted."

	"Or at least as acquainted as you can with biographical info," said
Sailor Cassiopeia.  "There's only so much you can learn from a computer."

	Rear Admiral Nagai coughed lightly, not wishing to break into the
conversation too blatantly.  Once she had everyone's attention, she demurely
took a sip from a glass of ice-cold water to clear her throat.  "Learning is
a problem I wished to address, Your Majesty."  The pink-haired monarch
nodded for her to continue.  "The planet senshi hold the rank of admirals,
but these new senshi have virtually no training in tactical situations,
administration, strategy, all the skills and abilities necessary for flag
rank.  Will the replacement senshi hold that rank?"

	Serenity II smiled slightly.  "A good question.  The answer is
simple.  They will, given time and experience.  But for now, I think they'll
start where all other senshi have started: captain."

	"Are you sure that's a good idea?" persisted Atsuko.  "Honestly, at
least the senshi we have now had a year of training.  As it stands, these
will have only a couple weeks."

	"I didn't know you were from the personnel division," said Sailor
Phoenix mildly.

	"I'm not, but the fact remains that sending untrained children out
in starships can only be considered a foolish gesture."

	"Now wait just a-"

	"Ladies," said the Queen simply, and the argument was instantly
garroted.  "Rear Admiral Nagai raises a good point.  But, I'd like to point
out to her that we *aren't* putting them on starships.  For the most part
they'll be on Luna, although the Navy may conduct training missions from
time to time, especially in the use of the Gertie."  Atsuko nodded, as did
Sailor Cassiopeia.  "Now then, is there any other planet-senshi related
business to discuss?  No?  Well then, let's finish our breakfast."


Bay 12-C, Central Spaceport
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
22 July 3043
18:28 Eastern Daylight Time
10:28 Lunar Standard Time

	She looked out the clear shatterproof window at the activity below. 
Men and women in bright white spacesuits scurried about the landing pad.  If
she looked straight ahead, she could see the seemingly endless dark expanse
of the Sea of Serenity.  The Moon Palace was kilometers away on the opposite
side of the shuttle, though, and so she kept her eyes on the pad rather than
the boulders and small craters of the mare.

	Hers was an untrained eye, and she knew it.  After all, she'd never
even been in space until the previous morning, and the past thirty-six hours
had been a barrage of warnings, instructions, and lots of sitting around in
the middle of what was nothing, as far as she could tell.

	The figures on the pad withdrew for a moment, and she felt the craft
start to descend once more.  There was no inertia or external clue to tell
her this was happening, but over the course of her journey she'd figured out
a faint grinding under her feet indicated when the shuttle's thrusters were
firing.  She glanced outside once more, and indeed she could see slight
plumes of lunar dust swirling away from the craft.  Then there was a thump.

	"Attention passengers," came a smooth, Japanese voice.  She
struggled to make it out; she'd taken Japanese, of course, but she hadn't
actually had to use it in some time.  "On behalf of the Royal Star Navy,
we'd like to welcome you to the Moon Kingdom, and hope you'll enjoy your
stay." A pause, and the rustling of papers.  "We still have a couple minutes
to go down to the loading level and cycle through the airlock, so please
remain in your seats until the attendants can see to your needs.  Thank
you."

	She chuckled to herself and put away the magazine she'd been
reading.  In the Moon Kingdom, paper magazines were almost nonexistent, but
this one she'd brought from home.  Besides, few things compared to the sense
of accomplishment felt when hand-filling a crossword puzzle.  She looked
down and picked up her small handbag, checking for a mirror.

	Finding one, she spared another quick glance out the window.  The
gray Lunar surface was sinking now, replaced with blackness.  She stared,
transfixed; it was startlingly like being in a very large glass elevator. 
As they disappeared completely into the shaft, the running lights of the
shuttle cast scant illumination on the darkness.  She could catch faint
hints of pipes, conduits, access panels.

	She whistled softly.  Mare Serenitatis was complex.  She'd known it
intellectually; she'd seen all the vid programs: the documentaries, the news
reports.  Until now, though, in her heart she'd only seen the dime-sized
silver disk in the nighttime sky, pocked with a few dark patches and a
couple craters.  Now she knew, for certain and with first-hand evidence, the
reality of civilization on the Moon, perhaps the greatest civilization in
human history.  It was certainly the most advanced in humanity today.

	It was an odd realization.

	After a minute they reached the bottom of the shaft.  The only way
she had of knowing this was a long, horizontal line of steady red lights on
the wall outside which came to rest.  They began to flash.  "Ladies and
gentlemen, we are now cycling through the air lock.  At this time you should
make sure to gather all of your belongings and prepare for disembarkation. 
On leaving the ship you will be asked to proceed to the Royal Customs
station for verification of identification.  After that, you may go where
you wish.  Please ask an attendant if there are any questions."

	She glanced across the aisle.  He was awake now, barely looking at
her.  Good.  The woman stood and took her overnight bag from the overhead
compartment, then made her way to the front of the cabin.  She stopped at
the first row and looked back with a grin.

	"I've never flown first class before," she said to the attendant in
English.

	The attendant, a twenty-something black-haired woman in a
resplendent white-on-blue uniform, cocked her head politely.  "You haven't,
ma'am?" she replied in accented English.

	"Nope.  And definitely not with so few people."  She gestured to the
rest of the cabin.  With the exception of the man, the rows of plush brown
leather seats were completely empty.

	"That's amazing, ma'am," the attendant said.  In point of fact, it
wasn't.  First class on the Earth-Moon shuttles was often deserted.  After
all, it wasn't a very long trip, and most people didn't bother with the
expense.  Generally, the only people to fly first class were either rich
people who wanted to show off, or VIPs like the man and woman who were here
today.

	"Isn't it, though?  Say, how much longer until we're done?"

	The row of red lights turned a steady green.  "We're done now,
ma'am." The woman leaned forward, looking out the small circular window of
the door in the side of the ship, watching as the heavy airtight doors slid
open.  They revealed a large, cavernous bay which looked astonishingly like
every train station she'd ever been in, simply writ large.  The sheer number
of people astounded her.  Men and women in all manners of dress: from
skimpy, diaphanous robes which left nothing to the imagination, to the black
jumpsuit uniforms of the Royal Star Navy, porters and maintenance workers in
orange and customer service reps in blue suits, all scurried about their
business.  Various signs welcomed visitors to the Moon Kingdom in over two
dozen languages.

	"Neat," said the woman simply.

	"Excuse me, ma'am, I need to open the door now."  The attendant
reached past the woman and punched two buttons on the wall.  There was a
slight hiss; shipboard pressure was always just a bit off from that
maintained on the Moon.  Then the door popped out and slid to the side.

	Roses.  Hundreds, thousands, millions of roses, all assaulted her
nose.  She stumbled back for a moment, and then the smell vanished as soon
as it came.

	"Oh, sorry.  The roses must have hit you."

	"The roses?"

	"A long story.  Just this way, ma'am . . . and your husband?"

	She shrugged.  "He'll be along in a bit."  She stepped onto the
escalator which led down from the shuttle.  As she descended, she noticed an
odd stuffiness in the air.  It took a couple moments to realize it was the
lack of echos.  The voices of the people in the receiving bay weren't
reverberating at all, which was an odd effect.  She felt as if she were
in a library as she stepped off the bottom of the escalator.

	Standing there was a single senshi, with black hair and blue eyes. 
Her sailor uniform was predominantly tan, with red trim, which identified
her as Sailor Markab.

	Only five senshi had ever come from outside Japan: two from Wales,
two from Africa, and one from America.  The first Welsh senshi, Sailor
Deneb, was killed in the War of 3035, victim to an Allied missile attack. 
The second, who became a senshi just a year afterward, was Sailor Markab. 
She'd taken the loss of her compatriot rather hard, but today she was all
smiles as she greeted the visitor.

	"Hello, Pearcy-san," said Sailor Markab in the lilting Welsh accent
two decades of living in Japan had yet to erase.  "Welcome to Mare
Serenitatis."

	Marybeth Pearcy smiled.  "Hi.  Glad to be here."


Kinokinuya Hotel
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
23 July 3043
09:30 Lunar Standard Time

	"Good morning, Pearcy-san.  Did you sleep well?"

	"Slept like a log, thanks."  She stretched her arms past her head,
which was just beginning to show a bit of gray.  To be expected; she was
sixty-three, after all.  Despite her age, she wore a white blouse and blue
jeans, and her brand-new sneakers squeaked as she walked out of her room and
into the hallway.  "I guess it's the gravity."

	Sailor Markab shrugged.  "I've heard some say that, ma'am, but
personally I prefer one gee.  Anyway, we should get going."

	Marybeth yawned and nodded.  "Right.  This should be fun."  The two
women stepped into an elevator and Sailor Markab punched in a destination
code.  "Where are they?

	"The lobby.  For now they're staying here at the hotel, although I
believe you'll be moving into the Royal Chambers once Sailors Orion and
America arrive.  Guests of your stature shouldn't have to make do with hotel
accomodations."

	With a soft swish, the silvery elevator doors slid open.  Before
them was the opulent lobby of the Kinokinuya Hotel, established in 2944 and
the first of its kind.  Its construction had heralded the beginning of space
tourism, and the night before she had noticed workers preparing even now for
its hundredth anniversary next year.

	Red predominated, a bright royal red with gold trim.  There were
some paintings whose value Marybeth couldn't begin to estimate, not being an
art expert, and a high, vaulted ceiling appeared to be painted as well.

	Sailor Markab followed Marybeth's gaze.  "A bit ostentatious, I
suppose, but the builders had a heavy Baroque influence.  They could have
done worse; the prevailing style at the time was French Victorian.  Then
they'd have gilt absolutely everything."  She smiled at Marybeth as the 
older woman turned to look at her as if she'd just barked like a dog. "Oh, 
architecture and interior design is a small hobby of mine.  Whenever I 
bring VIPs here I always think about how I'd have done things different."

	The senshi led the way through the sea of red carpet and down a
large and uncrowded hallway lined with mirrors.  "You do this often?" asked
Mrs. Pearcy, trying not to gawk like some kind of yokel tourist.

	"More often than you'd think."  A slight shrug.  "I'm one of the
gaijin senshi, you see.  There used to be five of us, now it's three.  Since
I'm the only European one left--inasmuch as you can consider a Welsh woman
European--I usually get stuck with welcoming VIPs like you."

	"Scut work?"

	"Basically.  There are worse fates in life."

	They turned a corner.  "It seems rather unfair."

	"Oh, not really."  Sailor Markab folded her hands behind her back. 
"Actually, it's rather flattering.  I'm the first face people see when
disembarking from their ships.  You know the old expression about first
impressions?  It's true, and I'm honored Her Majesty allows me to make that
first impression for the Kingdom."

	"Oh?"

	"Yes.  Oh, here we are."  The heavy wooden door was marked with a
brass lettering in Japanese and English.

	"'Cottonwood Room?'  What kind of name is that?"

	"I think the builders visited England too many times."  She tapped
the entrance panel at the side of the door, and it obligingly slid open,
causing Marybeth to wonder why they'd gone to the trouble of putting a
polished brass doorknob on it.

	They stepped into a conference, albeit a heavily decorated
conference room.  The long table was unmistakable, even if it was covered
with an equally long pink tablecloth.  Marybeth winced.  She hated pink,
but was rapidly realizing she'd have to get used to the color.

	Sitting on the far end of the table were a senshi and two others. 
The senshi she didn't recognize; whoever she was had short-cropped blonde
hair, a yellow skirt with a single orange stripe and red trim.  The two
others she recognized from several vid broadcasts, as well as the small
dossier she'd been given an hour after leaving Earth.

	"Pearcy-san," said Sailor Markab, "may I introduce Sailor Arneb,
Jennifer Sakachi, and Isao Sakachi.  Sailor Arneb, Sakachi-tachi, I am
Sailor Markab, and this is Marybeth Pearcy."

	Marybeth suppressed a cluck of irritation.  A simple handshake would
be far simpler than all the bows which ensued.  She managed to return them
correctly, thanking her daughters lessons in such.  "Hi Mr. Sakachi, Mrs.
Sakachi," she said in thickly accented Japanese.  "I've been looking forward
to this for awhile."

	Jennifer Sakachi the elder nodded.  She sat next to her husband, who
wore a rather nice dark blue suit and tie which matched his wife's dress and 
blouse. Marybeth noticed the matching set of earrings Mrs. Sakachi wore; 
drawing near, she saw they were actually diamond representations of the Orion
constellation.  Of course, Marybeth was no better with her red star earrings.

	Isao Sakachi, like his wife, had more than a little gray at his
temple.  The anti-aging treatments often extended lifespans to as long as a
hundred and fifty years, at least in theory, but it had become fashionable
to allow a bit of graying, as Marybeth had done.  "As have we.  It's too bad
it's taken this long to finally see the mother of the woman Jen-chan is so
besotted with."

	"It's a bit more than simply being beset," chided Jennifer.  She
looked up at Marybeth.  "We had the opportunity to meet Eileen-san a number
of times while we were in Crystal Tokyo.  She's a fine woman."

	"Hey, thanks."  She sat across from them and looked around the
table.  "Um, is there any coffee around?"

	"We can send for some," replied Sailor Arneb cheerfully.  She went
to the wall and picked up a phone, speaking into it softly.

	Marybeth nodded her thanks and leaned forward, her elbows on the
table.  "You know, I've been waiting to meet Jennifer a long time.  She's
often in the news back home."

	"Really?" asked Isao.  "I thought, erm, that is . . . ."  He trailed
off.  There wasn't a polite way to ask if someone's country was still held
in the grips of harsh censorship and totalitarian control.  Of course, the
Moon Kingdom could be interpreted as being under totalitarian control.  It
didn't even have a constitution, technically; everything operated under
royal edicts, or otherwise from bodies created under royal edicts.

	Marybeth's nostrils flared.  "We didn't want a war with you.  Our
government did.  We didn't want to kick you off the planet either.  Our
government did, and after you kicked our asses we were lucky to have a
government.  No, we don't vilify you in the press.  Jen's a hot news item,
especially since she announced her engagement to Eileen.  In fact, we all
thought it was way overdue."

	Isao nodded and tried to remove his foot from his mouth.  "I see. 
But . . . in that case, you must have received all the messages we sent to
Earth?  I know Eileen mentioned never getting a response from you."

	"Right.  Believe me, I saved every byte she sent.  The idiots in
Vancouver never let my messages slip outside the borders, though, and I'll
be sure to let her know that's the only reason I never wrote back."

	Jennifer bowed slightly; it struck Marybeth that her long black hair
was in almost exactly the same style as the younger Jennifer's, merely with
a different color.  "That's good.  Although we don't talk to Jen as much as
we'd like.  She's only been home once since she left."

	"Really?  I hadn't known."

	Isao nodded.  "My mother--her grandmother--passed away in 3042, and
she came back for the funeral.  We had to delay it by more than a couple
weeks so she'd have time to make the trip, though."

	"Had she . . . changed?"  It was a question she asked herself almost
daily.  She'd not seen her daughter since Eileen left for the school in
3028, and their last conversation was in 3034.  Knowing how much she herself
had changed in that nine year separation, it was almost frightening to
consider how much the senshi must have changed, considering she'd gone
through a near-breakup, a war, a move of over two hundred light-years, and
an alien invasion.

	To Marybeth's infinite relief, both mother and father laughed and
shook their heads.  "No, not at all," said Isao.  "It was amazing how much
she *hadn't* changed, actually.  You know, when she left for Hinansho, she 
was a little . . . the war had affected her."  He cleared his throat.  "It 
was pretty bad, but when she visited last year it was as if it'd never 
happened. Very encouraging.  And she always spoke well of Eileen."

	"It was actually a bit hard to make her stop talking about Eileen,"
Jennifer said with a wry smile.  "She just went on and on.  Who would have
thought someone could spend half an hour talking about cheeseburgers?"

	Marybeth blinked, then laughed, pounding the table with her first. 
"Oh, that's right!  Cheeseburgers are her favorite food, you know that?  She
can never eat enough of them; if it weren't for modern medicine I swear
she'd have arteries entirely blocked with cholesterol."

	"It's lasagna for Jen.  She can't *cook* it, mind you, but she
doesn't mind devouring it at all."  Jennifer looked absently at the light
yellow wallpaper of the room.  "I remember the first time I gave it to her. 
She was, oh . . . seven or eight, I guess.  Isao had gotten me an Italian
cookbook for my birthday, and I was trying different things out."

	The American nodded.  "Oh, I love cookbooks.  I have dozens of them
at home; it's such fun experimenting with recipes."

	"Exactly.  So, we had meat lasagna for dinner, and she made a mess. 
An absolute mess.  I mean, you'd think an eight year old girl would be
better at it, but you have to remember that she'd never used Western
utensils before.  Just chopsticks.  So between that, and lasagna being a
rather messy food to start with . . . ."

	"You had yourself a mess on your hands."

	"We had ourselves a mess on our hands."  The two women laughed
simultaneously, then sighed.

	"So," said Marybeth, "did Eileen ever mention to you the time she
ended up in the pigsty?"


72 Akihabara Drive
Nagano-2
Colony of Hinansho, Moon Kingdom
2 August 3043
05:00 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Beep-beep.  Beep-beep.  Beep-beep.

	Eileen's arm reached out to slap the pestilent alarm, and the
brunette sighed.  "I hate that thing.  Yours had more character."

	Jen shrugged and wriggled under the sheets, curling up next to her
lover.  "It was your idea to replace it.  I liked the bell, myself."

	"Right.  Remind me to get rid of this thing when we get back."

	"Will do."  Jen sighed, stretched, and rolled out of bed, wriggling
her bare toes on the thick, cool carpet.  "Lights on."  The room lights went
up, bathing the room in brightness.  Jen narrowed her eyes; even a senshi 
needed time to adjust to sudden light after dark, especially this early in 
the morning.

	Eileen watched her lover stand, her form glowing softly in the
yellow lamp light.  "Ready?"

	Jen sighed.  "Yes.  You?"

	"I think."  She wasn't quite sure, actually.  It had been nine years
since she'd said goodbye to the Solar System, and hadn't expected to return
this soon.  In addition, it had been even longer since she'd seen her
parents.  Or her parent, at least.  She'd always been closer to her mother
than her father; even now, her mother wrote a longer and more detailed
letter to her when she arrived at Luna than her father.

	Jen had left her alone the night the messages arrived from Mare
Serenitatis.  They'd come in early in the morning, but standing orders were
to alert her the moment anything from her parents arrived, ever since
notification came from Ambassador Hirota that her parents would indeed be
able to attend.

	Eileen hadn't know how Hirota pulled it off.  She hadn't wanted to
known how he pulled it off.  All that mattered to her was that it was done,
and her parents had left on the first shuttle to the Moon.  Upon arrival,
her mother sent her a letter which while large at first sight, was truly the
essence of brevity when compared to everything the two women had to catch up
to in the decades since their separation.

	Now they were about to break down the final barrier.  HMS Vulcan
hung in orbit, along with HMS Nike and HMS Juno.  An impressive escort for
two senshi and two senshi-designates, but Eileen regarded it as nothing less
than her due.  They did have a wedding to get to, after all, and it never
hurt to have extra ships along in case of a mishap.  It especially didn't
hurt when she was going to see home in the flesh, for she still regarded
Earth as her home.  Hinansho was her home as well, of course.  There was no
avoiding that; she'd lived in Nagano-2 for nine years.  But Earth was her
birth home, her true home.  It would be very, very good to look upon the
blue orb of Earth with her own eyes.

	Well, looking through a nice safe reinforced window.

	"Yeah, I'm ready as I'll ever be."  She tossed the covers aside and
reached for the kimono draped over a suitcase next to the bed. Both had 
packed their clothing and belongings for the trip, and packed well;  They 
were unlikely to return to Hinansho until late October, possibly early
November.  While the majority of their things had been shuttled up to Vulcan
the day before, one or two bags were still at their home.

	"Shower?" asked Jen.  She hadn't bothered putting on anything at
all, bending over slightly as she looked through the night-stand for her
communicator.  "Or were you going to wait a bit first?"

	Eileen smirked.  "Depends on whether I get to take it with you."

	Jen sighed.  "Seriously, Eileen.  We have a lot to get done before
we pull out of orbit."

	"All the more reason to have our fun now."  Eileen sashayed across
the room and wrapped an arm around Jen's bare shoulder.  "We might not have
the chance for a couple days."

	The redhead frowned and shrugged her way out of the embrace.  "I'm
going to take my shower now, I want to get to headquarters and check on some
things before we leave.  Oh," her voice continued from the bathroom, "could
you call Takeshi-kun and Achika-chan?  I wouldn't want them to be late."
She closed the door behind her, and soon Eileen could hear the soft sound of
running water.

	Eileen sighed.  "Spoilsport."  With a pout, she flopped down on the
king-sized bed, arms and legs spread-eagle, kimono coming slightly loose as
she landed.  "Antares?"

	"Yes?"

	"Are Takeshi or Achika awake?"

	A pause.  Then the sardonic computer tsked.  "I don't know.  Both
houses are set in privacy mode.  I *could* override the cameras, but I doubt
you want to take such a drastic step when you could just make a phone call,
hm?"

	Eileen grumbled long and loud.  "Yeah, I guess.  Put me through to
Takeshi first."

	"Will do."

	With the various revolutions in computers and telecommunications had
come an equal number of changes in culture and society.  One example of this
was the telephone, which by now was far more than just a means to transfer a
voice across long distances.  The units universally available in the Moon
Kingdom incorporated audio, video, and often text as well.  Through those
cameras, an AI like Antares could commonly peek into anyone's home and
ascertain the happenings.  While many in the twentieth might have balked at
this sort of voyeuristic invasion of privacy, more educated persons knew
better.  Even an AI as large and sophisticated as Antares couldn't truly
monitor the millions of cameras and microphones all over Nagano-2 and its
suburbs.

	Despite this, some remained paranoid.  While they knew Antares
wouldn't snoop--and if he did, he wouldn't go public or embarrass them--they
also knew there were those less scrupulous than he.  People who, despite the
very severe penalties against computer hacking, would still like to try
their hand at breaking into domestic nets.  For them, there was privacy
mode, which shut down the cameras and microphones to the outside world for a
period of time not to exceed twenty-four hours.  Only when an AI--or a
senshi--felt there was an emergency would the privacy barriers be broken.

	Takeshi waking up late didn't qualify as an emergency, even if he
was to be on his way to Luna to become the next Sailor Senshi of Mercury. 
"Antares?"

	"Yes'm?"

	"No need to wake them.  Make the call low-priority . . . actually,
just make it a wake-up call.  Seven, I guess, with a reminder that the
shuttle leaves at ten."

	"Done."  A pause.  "You know, we artificial intelligences don't get
out very much."

	Eileen rolled over on her stomach, gazing at the wall.  "Why do you
say that?"

	"Partly because it's true.  Partly because it occurs to me you'll be
meeting Ziggy again."

	"Oh, yeah."  She raised an eyebrow.  "Who the hell is Ziggy?"  She
could swear Antares sniffed in response.

	"You don't know Ziggy?"

	"Well, of course not.  If I knew I wouldn't have asked."  Eileen
stuck her tongue out at what she knew to be the only camera in the room,
which rested on a low dresser beneath the window.

	"Cheeky girl.  Ziggy is the central Lunar AI."

	Eileen shrugged.  "Why should that matter to me?  It's not like I
hang out there a lot."

	"She's also the most advanced computer in the known universe."

	The brunette laughed.  "God, I never thought I'd hear you admit
any AI was better than you."

	A defensive tone crept into the computer's tone.  "I never said she
was *better*.  I just said she was more advanced."

	"You lawyer."  She stood and wandered down the hall and past the
bathroom.  From the loud singing which emanated from the bathroom door, she
judged Jen to be singing another Soundgarden song.  She paused at the door,
listening for a moment: the cadence sounded a bit like 'Jesus Christ Pose'
but the words definitely weren't English.  Had Jen happened across
translated lyrics, perhaps?

	Eileen shrugged and walked on past the bathroom.  Wandering into the
kitchen, she looked through the cabinets for something on which to snack.  A
full-blown breakfast would come later.  The kitchen was next to the
bathroom, so as Eileen pulled a box of pastries from a shelf, she could hear
the thump of Jen dropping the bottle of soap in the shower.

	Jen preferred liquid soap.  Prevailing fashion favored bar soap, as a
sort of throwback to the twenty-fifth century, which was a throwback to the
twenty-second, which went back to the twentieth.  However, Jen's 183
centimeter frame was a lot to cover, and she saw no reason why she shouldn't
enjoy herself while she showered by lathering the thick, gel-like liquid into
her skin.  The failure to invent a soap bottle which didn't get slippery when
wet, while a powerful detraction, was a comparably small price to pay.

	She knelt down to grab the bottle, the hot, steaming water spraying
across her back.  She straightened and shook the hair out from her face,
feeling hot trickles of water flow down her temple, one particular rivulet
insisting on going down her forehead and right between her eyes.  The water
blasted her chest as well, and she winced as the temperature unexpectedly
surged upwards.

	"Antares?"

	"Yes, Jenny?"

	"I hate bothering you with something like this, but could you have
a plumber come over and look at the hot water system while we're gone?  That
is the third hot water spike this week!"

	"Sure thing."

	The advent of the ubiquitous artificial--or at least
simulated--intelligence had brought about many changes to human society. 
Of course, one of these was that virtually any task could be done by
computer: making travel reservations, ordering a pizza, contacting movers,
or having a plumber check a faulty temperature regulator in a home.

	However, the convenience of being able to ask an AI like Antares to
perform any sort of menial task was offset by another consequence: laziness. 
Simply put, being able to tell computers to do everything obviated the need
for humans to do anything.

	Two things prevented this.  First, sheer brute force and
determination.  Schools and technical institutes were necessary, for
computers wouldn't always be available, wouldn't always work, and most
importantly because the government said it should.  There was also the
matter of being able to repair and maintain all the devices and computers. 
It was impossible to function in any meaningful way without knowing the
fundamentals of electronics, calculus, logic, and syntax.

	The second was perhaps the most powerful: peer expectations.  The
Japanese had always been a very hard-working people, and computers hadn't
changed this.  It became expected for people to do things by themselves if
there was no compelling reason not to.  Had Jen not been preparing to leave
Hinansho in a few hours, she would have made the call to a plumber 
personally.  In this particular case, she simply had to rely on Antares.

	"Thank you," she said sincerely.  She decided to forgive Antares the
use of her hated diminutive name.  This time.

	Her mind went through a mental list of what else must be done before
leaving the surface.  Happily, most of them had already been done.

	Three days before, HMS Vulcan and her escorts dropped into existence
twenty-eight light-minutes from Nozomi.  They had swiftly moved into orbit
around Hinansho, and after a brief tour, Sailor Shaula and Sailor Fomalhaut
assumed command of the Hinansho Defense Force.

	Jen sighed, this time for a different reasons.  Once again, they
would have to meet with the replacement senshi soon, and she wasn't looking
forward to it at all.  Sailor Shaula was far too priggish and a stickler for
the rules, and Sailor Fomalhaut too sensual and hedonistic.  Only the kami
knew how the two would get along for the months they would have to work
together.  Whatever their faults, though, she knew they would at least be an
effective combination professionally.

	She shook her head slowly and moved on to other business.  Teaching
was taken care of.  Between the upcoming August vacation and the weeks of
vacation time she herself had accrued, it was elementary to arrange for a
long-term substitute to handle her high school classes.  Similarly, she'd
obtained a sabbatical from the University of Hinansho.  It had been almost
regrettably easy to do, since she had no graduate students to look after. 
The one student she had been tasked with decided to abandon history a year
before, and those professors with more seniority than she tended to snap up
fresh students.

	The redhead grinned to herself as she reached for the shampoo bottle
and lathered her tresses.  Perhaps she could snatch away a day or two to
visit the Royal University at Mare Cognitum.  It was high time she start
trading on her reputation and fame as a senshi.

	Then again, she reflected, it was really the only fame she did have
after all.  She lacked any academic claim to fame, at least.  Her doctoral
thesis, while briefly acclaimed a year or so after its publication a decade
ago, was now almost completely ignored.

	A frown crossed her face as she toed the small, smooth black panel
which turned off the water.  The first rule of the academic world was
'publish or perish,' and it was a faint source of shame that she had done
precious little publishing lately.  In fact, aside from a brief, four
paragraph reply to a letter to the editor of a historical journal, she
hadn't penned anything substantial at all.

	She needed a new project, perhaps a book on the 3035 war.  The only
problem there was timing.  It had been so recent, and she'd played so
pivotal a role in it.  She could scarcely pretend to be a disinterested,
impassive observer, not when she had been a major player in helping her
Queen and country stave off defeat!  If she didn't write on that, though,
then--

	She shook her head angrily and grabbed a towel from the slim metal
rod on the wall.  There would be plenty of time for such thoughts after the
wedding.  For the moment, she should concentrate on the here-and-now.

	She briskly toweled off and walked back to the bedroom, barefoot. 
The covers were neatly made, so Eileen must be up and around elsewhere in
the house.  Jen smirked when she saw her fiancee had already laid out their
black jumpsuit uniforms instead of the white summer blouse which they would
have worn if they stayed on Hinansho.  "She can be so anal at times," she
giggled, noticing out they were were as neatly laid out as if Eileen had
used a ruler.  Briefly she considered deliberately messing up the pile of
clothes with Eileen's name tag, then decided against it.  After all, it was
already 5:38.  Time to get moving.

	Right on cue, she heard the shower water switch on again.  Now
confident she wouldn't be interrupted by an overly amorous Eileen, she let
the towel drop to the floor and reached for her clothes.  She found herself
hesitating as she pulled on her white socks.  Tradition held that an officer
wore white socks on a planet, and black aboard a starship.  The Moon, for
the purposes of this tradition, did not count as a planet, and so she would
not wear the white socks again until she returned to Hinansho.

	It was a completely silly and inane thing to think about.  It was
stupid.  She knew it was stupid, and she told herself as much even as the
hot tears ran down her cheeks, but she could no more have helped it than she
could have helped Hinansho reduce its higher-than-Earth gravity.

	The tears eventually stopped, as silently and unexpectedly as they
began.  "No homesickness," she muttered firmly.  "Not a bit."  She pulled on
her panties and bra--both white; there were no traditions concerning their
color--and followed them with her trousers, spending a full minute to get
them around her waist in just the right fashion.  She'd once spent an
utterly boring day looking at the regulations on uniforms, and even if
no-one else cared about getting the seam on the precise midpoint of the
outer side of her thigh, she did.  Then came the turtleneck and jacket, the
latter of which she left unzipped.  She spared a moment to examine herself
in the mirror.  Perfect.

	Her phone rang.  She raised an eyebrow; most people wanting to call
her simply took advantage of her communicator, which was never more than a
couple meters from her.  It was comparatively rare to receive an actual
phone call.  She walked to the desk unit and pushed the receive button. 
"Hello, this is Sakachi."

	Achika appeared on the small screen of the phone, looking about as
tired and drowsy as she should be at such an early hour.  "Good morning,
Sakachi-sensei," she mumbled.

	"Good morning, Achika-chan."  She'd begun using the -chan suffix
accorded one senshi to another, not caring that it wouldn't be official for
a few more days.  It was one of several favors she'd begun doing for each of
the senshi-designates.  "Is anything wrong?  You look pretty tired."

	"I *am* tired."  She yawned as if to reinforce her statement,
covering her mouth politely with the forest-green sleeve of her pajamas.  "I
couldn't sleep last night."

	Jen smiled reassuringly.  "Understandable.  I seem to remember only
getting a couple hours of sleep the night before I left Earth the first
time."  Of course, she didn't add, a good part of that had been due to the
prolonged lovemaking session she and Eileen had shared that night.  A
slight rose tint came to her cheeks at the memory.  Come to think of it, it
had been the first night she and Eileen had tried--

	"No, no."  Achika shook her head.  "It's not that, I've been in
space plenty of times."

	Jen nodded.  "True.  But this time you're leaving home for good. 
That's rather different."

	"Maybe," conceded Achika.  She yawned again.  "Anyway, I didn't get
just a couple hours of sleep.  I didn't get *any* sleep."

	"None?"

	"None."

	Jen pursed her lips.  "I see.  Well, hopefully it won't be too large
a problem.  Today is a very important day for all of us, though."

	"Yes, Sakachi-sensei."  A third yawn, and a rubbing of the eyes.

	"Well.  Have you had everything moved up to Vulcan by now?"  Jen
faintly remembered signing the orders for that herself, but it never hurt to
be careful.

	Achika nodded.  "I had to buy some new clothes, though.  What I own
is, well . . . not fashionable."

	"Oh?"  Jen raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  Fashion in the Moon
Kingdom was appropriately set on the Moon as the capital.  From there it
rippled outwards, usually with a good several months of delay.  However, Jen
generally kept closer track of what all the fashionable women at Mare
Serenitatis wore, and she was fairly sure high hemlines and short shorts
were still popular.

	"Right.  All my dresses were too long."  Fashion could only do so
much on a cool planet.

	"Oh," Jen said again.  "Everything is in order now?"

	"I still have a couple cartons of personal things."  Almost all her
books, papers, and such had been moved into HMS Vulcan's holds, but she had
left her various football trophies and plaques to be sent last.

	"Okay.  Well, would you like to have breakfast with Eileen and
myself?  I'm going to try to get Takeshi-kun to come along as well."

	Achika shook her head.  "I'm sorry, Sakachi-sensei, I can't.  Mother
and Father have already made plans.  Actually, I think they have plans for
lunch as well."

	"Great."  Jen rolled her eyes and muttered angrily about
overprotective and overbearing parents.  Achika, knowing no French, was
baffled.  "Okay.  You can go, but if you're not at the spaceport by 12:10
I'm sending the MPs to pick you up."

	The green-haired girl gulped.  "Uh, yes Sakachi-sensei."

	"Good."  Jen brightened and zipped the jacket of her uniform.  "If
anything else comes up, you can comm me.  Use alpha priority."


105 Akihabara Drive
5:45 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"Alpha?"  She'd never heard of it before.

	"Yes.  It's reserved for planet senshi.  No, it's not official yet,
but I've told Antares to treat you with full honors anyway."

	Achika's eyes widened.  "Why . . . thank you, Sakachi-sensei!"

	Jen smiled.  "Call me Jen-chan.  Bye."  The connection closed, and
Achika found herself looking at a black blank screen.

	"Maybe I'm not ready for this," Achika whispered.  Without hurry, she
pulled her lime-green towel and washcloth--the only things on the linens
shelf of her closet--and trudged to the bathroom for a shower which was
conspicuously devoid of any sudden flashes of insight.

	Afterward, she dressed uneasily in the uniform Jen had given to her
three days before.  The girl was still worried about the propriety of
wearing Royal Star Navy uniform when she still hadn't taken any oaths, but
Jen insisted it was okay.  The intensive training she and Takeshi had
received in the last couple weeks helped her appreciate it more.  They'd
learned the basics of the chain of command, military courtesy, and even some
elementaries of magic.

	Once finished, she looked at herself in the mirror.  The girl who
looked back at her seemed somehow older, more mature than she who'd stared
back the night before.  The apprehension was still there, though.

	She brushed a bit of lint from the space-black left sleeve.  On it
was an inverted gold equilateral triangle, a thin red stripe running
diagonally across it.  At the cuff, where rank stripes would ordinarily be,
was nothing.  Her left collar bore an identical triangle tab, and the right
had a silver stylized heart.  The right sleeve lacked stripes as well, but
it did have a simple symbol in gold embroidery on the upper arm.  A dotted
circle, a ray extending up from it which branched into six more short lines,
perpendicular to the main crossbar, which was perpendicular to the original 
ray.

	The astronomical symbol of Uranus.

	"What the hell am I doing?" she asked softly.  There was no answer,
except a single beam of light passing through a gap in the curtains of her
room, cast by the distant thermonuclear furnace of Nozomi.


Kouka Street Park
6:20 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	As stars went, G7-V Nozomi was relatively cool, at least among those
stars whose planets supported life as humans understood it.  This, coupled
with Hinansho's 1.3 AU orbital radius, contributed to the cool, often cold
temperatures Nagano-2 experienced.

	Light traveled nearly eleven minutes before striking Achika's 
worried cheek.  It also took nearly eleven minutes to strike Takeshi's
cheek, the distance separating the two being negligible.  Of course, the
light striking Achika had been the barest fraction slower, retarded by
passing through the pane of glass.

	The ruddy light on Takeshi's face was unencumbered by anything but
the nitrogen/oxygen mix of Hinansho's atmosphere.  He sat on a park bench
which rested on a hill, watching the sun rise on Hinansho for what could for
him very well be the last time.

	Absently he rubbed the golden symbol of Mercury on the sleeve of his
uniform.  He wouldn't miss Hinansho, not really.  He'd not been born there,
after all.  If his mother hadn't been transferred from her plush assignment
at Mare Crisium, he likely would never have set foot on the planet.  The
only reason he and his family had even remained on this chilly ball was
sheer inertia.

	He'd already said his goodbyes.  There really weren't any friends to
speak of; just Yoshii, who he knew he'd hurt, and Yusuke, to whom Takeshi
had never told his true feelings.

	He sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them. 
"Maybe it's for the best.  He never would have broken up with Achika-chan
anyway."  Perhaps he would have better luck on the Moon.

	The bright, unbearable disk of Nozomi rose higher and higher,
clearing tree tops, hills, and houses, and the sky lightened along with it. 
Darkness was chased away to the western horizon, eventually vanishing
altogether.  It was all very breathtaking, or at least it once had been to
Takeshi.

	His mother's funeral had been at sunset.

	With a sigh, he rose to his feet.  Yuki would be up soon, and he
wanted to bathe.  Briefly he gave a look around and found he was alone in
the park.  Shrugging, he took off at a jog through the path leading to Kouka
Street.  As he made a left off the bike path and onto one dedicated only to
foot traffic he noticed two bright morning stars.  Neither could be
Nozomi-I, the innermost planet in the system.  This left HMS Vulcan or HMS
Nike.  HMS Juno, he knew from one of his visits to headquarters in recent
days, was running live-fire exercises in the outer reaches of the system. 
Apparently, her captain had been less than impressed over their performances
in a set of drills conducted during the trip to Hinansho.  They would
rendezvous with Vulcan and Nike when it came time to leave.

	He passed an old oak tree, its branches bent from the weight of its
leaves which were dark green in the dawn's early light.  As he did so, he 
barely noticed the plaque at its base.  It was the oldest Terran species on 
the planet, planted by the original survey team, and the colonial seal 
featured an oak leaf as a result.  There was an oak tree in their back yard 
as well.  Yuki could climb it easily.

	Yuki, Yuki, Yuki.

	What could he do?  His hands tightened into fists at his sides.  He
wasn't quite old enough to be her guardian.  When asked, Jen had curiously
deferred to Eileen, who was adamant that Yuki remain on Hinansho.

	Takeshi couldn't understand this.  There was nothing for his sister
here:  no family, no friends.  Hakuseki would never have custody of either 
of them again--that much was set in law--but what next?  A foster family, 
insisted Eileen, was the best course of action.  What with adjusting to a 
new home, the loss of her father, and the absence of her brother, there was
no need to further complicate matter by moving her to another planet.  His 
remark that he would at least be with her if she went with him to the Moon 
was ignored.

	Of course, he thought as he leaped over a log which had fallen in a
recent storm and had yet to be removed, once he was Sailor Mercury he'd be
one of the most powerful people in the Moon Kingdom.  He could simply order
Yuki be brought to Luna, and it would have to happen.  It would have to.

	Takeshi reached his home.  It had become much quieter, now that he 
lived alone.  While the stillness was disturbing now and then, he found the
silence made it easier to think.  He fished in a pocket for the small 
electronic key and pressed it against the door, hurriedly pushed it open, 
and stepped inside.  He blinked as he heard the phone ring.  "Coming!" he 
yelled, running for the terminal which was inconveniently placed in the 
kitchen.

	In the weeks he'd lived alone in his house, he'd kept the curtains
drawn and the blinds closed.  It wasn't that he disliked the sun; he loved
it, and when Jen and Eileen weren't drilling him in senshi etiquette and
history, he spent his free afternoons reading in the backyard.  While
inside, though, he hated the brightness of sunshine in a house which had
known only sadness from the time his mother died.

	Thus, Takeshi didn't see the neatly arranged pieces of luggage he'd
set out in the hallway the night before, waiting transfer to HMS Vulcan. 
His shins crashed into them, sending the black suitcases tumbling to the
carpeted floor.  Takeshi himself, unable to do anything about the momentum
of the upper half of his body, felt himself tipping over and flipping onto
his head.  With a supreme effort, he twisted in midair and managed to land
on his back, still continuing his roll.  Unfortunately for him, he'd put so
much effort into avoiding the blow to his head that he lost track of what
his feet were doing.  His left big toe, bare and exposed, smashed into the
hard white wall.

	"OW!" screamed Takeshi, as the mother of all stubbed toes befell
him.  The phone insistently continued to ring.  "I'm coming, hold on a
minute!"  He took a few swears from his father's book as he stumbled back to
his feet, the throbbing pain of his toe causing him to limp as he continued
into the kitchen. In an another unfortunate stroke of luck, however, the
kitchen's windows faced west, and consequently didn't admit a great deal of
light this early in the morning anyway.  Add to this the aforementioned
drawn curtains, and the end result was another stubbed toe, courtesy of a 
leg of the kitchen table.

	He punched the receive button on the phone.  The poor black piece of
plastic withstood the assault, although it beeped indignantly at him, and
the red indicator light, instead of turning green, simply went out
altogether.  The thirty-first century had yet to come up with an adequate
way to protect its technology from those irritated by it.  Or, perhaps more
accurately, it could . . . but the satisfaction of giving an obnoxious
appliance a good thumping was too much to give up.

	The flat screen flickered once, then brightened the entire room with
its glow.  Takeshi blinked, still wincing, as the head and shoulders of
Eileen Pearcy appeared.  For the first time in his memory, her hair wasn't
in its usual ponytail.  Instead, it was loose and fell behind her back and
over her bare shoulders, which was the second thing he noticed.  The angle
of the camera showed just the beginnings of the swell of her breasts, and if
he'd been heterosexual in any way he would have appreciated the opportunity.

	As it was, he barely noticed, except to presume she'd just come out
of the shower.  This was reinforced when she produced a white hair dryer and
applied it to her hair.  The soft, almost inaudible hum of the device
carried over the tiny speakers of the phone as she ran it through the wet
strands of her brown hair.

	"Hey Takeshi, what's up?"

	Eileen had become even less formal since he'd accepted the offer to
become a senshi.  He'd found himself getting used to it fairly quickly,
though; he knew she didn't extend the familiarity to just anyone.  "Good
morning, Pearcy-san."

	"Come on, you can call me Eileen," she teased, winking at him.  She
glanced to her right and stuck out her tongue.  "I'm just playing with him,
Jen, he doesn't *have* to use it."

	"It's okay," said Takeshi loudly, holding up a hand and hoping Jen
would be able to hear his voice.  "I don't mind calling her Eileen-san."

	Eileen wrinkled her nose, then winced as the dryer hit a snag. 
Roughly she pulled it through, cursing her hair.  "I was looking for
something friendly, y'know.  We're both senshi.  Or at least, you will be
soon enough.  Anyway, how's it going?"

	The boy shook his head in amusement and sat on a wooden stool padded
with a black leather cushion.  Eileen Pearcy, to him the most mysterious and
incomprehensible woman he'd ever met.  Of course, she was an American, so it
was much easier for Eileen to befuddle him.  "It's doing well, Eileen-san. 
I just came in, I was . . . well, I just came back from taking a walk."

	"A walk, huh?  When I take walks I usually end up having some deep
philosophical revelations which need a high-priced psychiatrist."

	Takeshi chuckled.  "Um, no Eileen-san.  The only thing I really came
up with was how much I'll miss Y . . . Hinansho."

	"And Yuki," said Eileen firmly.  Takeshi blinked.  "Yes, Yuki. 
Don't tell me you aren't going to miss your sister.  I certainly miss my
brothers."

	"You have brothers?"

	"Two."  The brunette's eyes darkened for just the briefest of
moments.  "Well, at least it used to be.  I lost one in the war."

	Takeshi nodded once in understanding, then stifled a gasp, his eyes
widening in deeper understanding.  None of Eileen's relatives had moved with
her to Japan, which meant--

	"Anyway, I miss them both.  It'll be nice to see Sam again." She
shook her head clear of the remembrances, further loosening her towel at
the same time.  "Look, I know you don't like leaving Yuki home.  Hell, under
any other circumstances I'd send her along with you.

	"The thing is, you're going to have a sh . . . a whole lot of stuff
to do on the Moon.  They kept me plenty busy after I became a senshi, you
can bet you'll have even less time to yourself.  You definitely won't have
time to give Yuki the attention she deserves, will you?"

	Takeshi sighed, the pain from his toe mellowing him slightly.  He
gave it an absent look, then frowned when he saw it was already turning an
ugly shade of purple.  At least the toenail hadn't broken the skin.  He went
to the freezer for some ice, the phone's camera tracking his movements.  "I
won't be able to look after her from two hundred light years away, either."

	"Of course not, that's what the foster family is for."

	"But--"

	"No buts."  An echo of the dreadfully calm voice she'd heard only
once before was in her words.  He felt a chill down his spine which had
nothing to do with the wrapped ice in his hand; the last time he'd heard it,
his father was in the choke-hold of Sailor America.

	"You know," said Takeshi slowly, "once I become a senshi, I'll
outrank you."

	Eileen surprised him with a long laugh, completely at odds with the
gruff demeanor of just a moment before.  "Yeah, you will.  And if you think
that means anything to me, ask the outgoing Sailor Mars."

	Something occurred to Takeshi, as he sat in a chair and pressed the
ice to his toe.  "Who will be the new Sailor Mars?"

	"Chiharu Kanazawa."  She grinned at Takeshi's look of bafflement. 
"Don't worry, I didn't know either until last night.  She's a nice girl from
Hesperia Planum, you'll like her."  Eileen managed to keep her feelings
impassive; at a mere fourteen years and twelve days, Chiharu was way out of
the zone for appointment.  It irked Eileen severely to see how far the rules
had been bent for the teenager from just south of the Martian equator.  'She
better be a bloody super-genius to justify this,' Eileen thought angrily.

	"Anyway," continued the brunette in a tone which didn't even hint at
her disapproval, "we're supposed to get full bios of the other designates
before we leave.  You'll study them on the trip to Luna."

	"Great."

	"Hey, look at it this way.  We're sending bios on you as well, so
the rest of the girls will be learning all about you and Achika."

	"I guess so."

	"Don't sound too enthusiastic."  Eileen gave him a wry grin. 
"Y'know, it's not too late for you to change your mind . . . ."

	"NO!  Um, I mean, no."  Give up the chance of the millennium?  Was
she nuts?  "I'm still determined to be a senshi, if Her Majesty will have
me."

	"I'll be very surprised if she doesn't."  The still, quiet
confidence in her voice surprised him.  "Speaking as the first American
senshi to the first male senshi, you'll have a lot to prove to a lot of
people.  But if we didn't think you could handle it, we wouldn't have picked
you."

	Takeshi blinked at the candor of the unexpected compliment. 
"Th-thank you."


72 Akihabara Drive
6:39 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Eileen winked.  "Let's see if you're still thanking me a year from
now.  We'll be over soon to pick you up.  Bye!"  She leaned back from the
phone, letting the towel slip completely into a tangled, damp white heap on
the floor, as the active phone light blinked out.

	"Naughty of you, Eileen."

	"Naughty how?"  Eileen turned to face Jen, who was carefully
brushing her hair.

	"Naughty as in making a vid call to an adolescent boy while only
wearing a towel."

	Eileen shrugged and picked up a pair of panties.  Calling them her
"lucky" panties, she always wore them on important occasions.  While baffled
by the reason for their being lucky, Jen had to admit Eileen was oddly
fetching in them, at least in a schoolgirlish sort of way.  The tiny images
of Mickey Mouse somehow managed to add to it.

	"I doubt he noticed, and I doubt even more that he cares."  Eileen
stood and put first one leg, then the other, through the openings of the
garment.  "He *is* gay, you know."

	"Nobody's totally homosexual, Eileen."  Jen flicked the brush into
pocket-space and sat on the foot of the bed.  "That's been known since the
twentieth century."

	"Oh yeah, right."  Eileen looked properly sheepish, as she generally
did when Jen corrected her on history.  "Killsey or something?"

	"Kinsey.  You should know, he was an American."

	Eileen put on a bra and white Philadelphia Phillies t-shirt, faded
from years of being worn in all sorts of situations.  "Yep.  Although he
never said pure homosexuality didn't exist, just that it's a lot more rare
than people think."

	Jen nodded.  The most conservative estimates said around twenty to
twenty-five percent of humans rated a three or higher on what was still known
as the Kinsey scale.  In other words, one in five--or four, taking the
liberal estimate--of adults one was likely to meet would either be perfectly
bisexual, predominantly homosexual with some heterosexual leanings, or
exclusively homosexual.  Of course, this was twice the conventional estimate
of ten percent espoused before Annum Serenitatis--2197, the foundation year
of Crystal Tokyo.  Then again, the field of sociology had advanced greatly
in the following millennium.

	Thus, an enlightened citizen of the thirty-first century knew things
weren't so cut and dried.  Homosexual behavior was far from frowned upon;
the biggest example of this was Japan, where it was almost glorified.  After
all, a good part of the senshi were lesbians.  Those who had occasional
feelings toward the same sex generally thought nothing of it, seeing it as
being a perfectly natural part of life.  Some felt this drove people to
homosexuality where there was none, but it was generally considered a silly
concept.

	"Just because he's gay doesn't mean he isn't going to react when
you're half-naked in front of him."

	"The camera was on tight focus.  Trust me, he didn't see anything I
didn't want him to."

	Jen sniffed.  "I just bet he didn't."

	"Why Jennifer," said Eileen in a faux, patronizing soprano, "I do
believe you're jealous."  The redhead blushed deeply, and Eileen had to
fight off an attack of the giggles.  "You *are* jealous, aren't you?  You
little scamp!"  She threw her rolled-up socks at her fiancee, who was forced
to dive to her right in order to avoid the barrage.  Eileen had the
advantage of a ready supply of ammunition, though, as she pulled open the
sock drawer and pelted the captain with white, black, gray, pink, and blue
balls of cotton and elastic.

	Jen giggled helplessly, crawling across the bed--and thoroughly
messing up the neatly made covers--eventually rolling over its far side and
landing with an "oomph!" on the floor.  Eileen wasn't done yet, though, and
switched from a direct approach to sending the socks on high, ballistic
trajectories which skimmed the ceiling and landed, with quite unerring
accuracy, on Jen's head.  "I give up!  Dammit, I give up!" she cried, in
between fits of laughter.

	"Smart girl," said Eileen smugly.  She crossed her arms on her
chest, watching with a grin as her lover picked herself up from the floor. 
Jen's carefully crafted hair was now in disarray, and a single sky-blue sock
was draped on her shoulder.  "It's good to know Captain Jennifer Sakachi,
Naval Genius, knows when to yield."

	"I prefer to think of it as a strategic withdrawal," countered Jen,
brushing her hair back into order down her back."

	"Advance to the rear, huh?"

	"Something like that."  Jen stretched, then picked up some of the
striped pillows and put them back into place.  "Of course, there's another
thing."

	Eileen cocked an eyebrow.  "What?"

	"It's not a good idea to pelt a tactical genius."  With a flick of
her wrist, she sent one of the down-filled pillows flying at Eileen.  The
brunette, caught totally off-guard, received the pillow in her face.  She
let out a short grunt of dismay before crashing to the floor in a tangle of
flailing arms and legs.

	Jen laughed as Eileen slowly got to her feet.  "You think you're hot
stuff, don't you?" growled Eileen.

	"No, no.  I *know* I'm hot stuff."  She grinned, and when Eileen
came at her with the pillow, she was ready.

	Feathers flew as the fiancees fought ferociously.  Jen landed
several blows to Eileen's bare flanks, but Eileen countered with a single
swift strike to Jen's face.  With her black-rimmed glasses flying to the
floor, Jen's range of vision was greatly lessened.  She could now only swing
at the white and brown blur as it now overpowered her with a pillow in each
hand.

	Eileen laughed in triumph as Jen squealed, the redhead falling to
her back on the bed and desperately holding up a pillow in defense.  She
knew there would be no damage, no matter how hard she swung, so she made
sure to get in several head shots.

	"I give up!" squealed Jen.

	"Really?"

	"Really!  I promise, no tricks!"

	Eileen smirked and flopped down on top of Jen.  "I've beaten you
twice today, and it isn't even seven."

	"I let you win," said Jen petulantly.  She'd never been angry in the
first place, and it was so much harder even to consider doing so.  Eileen's
hot, bare body was doing altogether pleasant things through the fabric of
her uniform.  "How much time until we have to pick up Takeshi?"

	Eileen recognized the look in Jen's blue eyes, even without glasses. 
She sighed.  "Not enough for what you're thinking of."

	Jen sighed.  "Not even a quick one?"

	"Not even a quick one."  She rolled off Jen to remove any
temptations the redhead might have, then gave her another by bending over 
and handing Jen her glasses.  "We'd have to shower all over again, and we 
don't have time for that."

	"I suppose you're right."

	"Besides, your hair is a mess.  Again."  Eileen smiled gently and
ruffled Jen's hair, making it into an even shaggier mess.  "Here, I'll brush
it for you after I get dressed."

	Jen shook her head.  "I have some things to take care of outside. 
I'll just brush it in the back yard."

	Eileen sighed.  "Again?  You've been over the yard with a
fine-toothed comb.  Really, if you aren't going to trust the gardener you
hired, we can always just stay here."

	"There's the small matter of a wedding," Jen said with a smile,
standing and smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in her uniform.  The
fabric wasn't designed to wrinkle, and even if it did they would be next to
impossible to see, given its jet black color.  She smoothed it nonetheless,
trotting out the door, down the stairs--the fifth step down still creaked,
something would have to be done about it--around the corner, and out the
back door.

	The morning air was clean and crisp in her nostrils as she walked
through the backyard, dew clinging wetly to her black boots.  Eileen joked,
but Jen really did take her yard seriously.  She'd never had a very large
one, after all.  Her parents had been lucky to get a tiny patch of grass
which was roughly the size of a walk-in closet, and the vast grounds
surrounding the Crystal Palace weren't technically theirs.

	After the therapy and counseling she'd undergone on the long trip
from Sol-III to Nozomi-II, Jen was delighted when the house they built had a
large, some might say opulent back yard.  Of course, it hadn't been that way
at first.  Originally it was just a vast expanse of dirt, turned muddy from
a week of near-constant rainfall.  Sure, it would have been easy to have sod
tossed down from one of the planetary farms.  Jen hadn't wanted it, though.

	So, she'd spent weeks picking out just the right mix of fescue, rye,
and bluegrass, the last of which she managed to obtain from the Kentucky
region of America at a price many Moon Kingdom golf courses couldn't afford. 
Then she'd laid down the seed, covered it with fertilizer and hay, and
tended it daily.

	Within a year, she had a lawn which was the envy of the Green Oaks
Community Association.  Now she would have to entrust it to a garden and
lawn care service.  The vetting process had taken a week, and Eileen only
half-jokingly mentioned that she was starting to get jealous over the care
given those blades of grass.  It was little matter to Jen; the lawn was her
baby, and she would gladly pamper it.

	She sighed and sat on the bench next to the picnic table.  By the
time she came back, the whole lawn could very well be covered with a few
centimeters of snow.  What a cheery thought.

	She bent down slightly and tore a pinch of grass from the topsoil. 
With a quick glance about to see if anyone was looking, she deposited the
green leaves in her breast pocket.  She wasn't drying them properly, but
given the past history of the grass--these particular ones looked to be
typical tall fescue-VI--they should stay green for at least another three
days.  Plenty of time to stick them in a proper preservative gel.

	"Jen!"  The voice came from the open bedroom window.  The redhead
looked up to see Eileen bracketed by the white window-frames and brown
shutters which Jen had carefully picked out to perfectly match her lover's
eyes.  "You ready?"

	Jen nodded and brushed a few stray bits of dirt from her hands. 
"I'll meet you around front."  She gave the lawn a last, lingering look,
then went to the gate in the wooden fence.


Hinansho Central Spaceport
Colony of Hinansho, Moon Kingdom
14:30 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	The sun was still high in the slightly hazy blue sky as the sound of
sirens drew near to Hinansho Central Spaceport.  As the largest of
Hinansho's two space launch/landing facilities, it was too large to be
placed close to Nagano-2.  The noise of operations was really much too loud. 
Thus, they'd put it a good seventy kilometers east of the city, with a
natural low ridge of hills blocking it from line of sight.

	As the motorcade drew near, Jen reflected on what a shame that was. 
HCS really was beautiful, in its own way.  Half a dozen landing pads for
heavy cargo shuttles, another dozen smaller ones for personnel carriers and
couriers, runways scattered in what were to the untrained eye random
patterns.  Jen could see the logic in the approaches, though, based on the
normal paths craft would take when dropping in from orbit.

	"Yes, it's still there," joked Eileen.

	Jen looked up, her contemplation of the tall, spindly control towers
and microwave transmitters interrupted.  "What?"

	"You looked like you were worried the 'port would disappear."

	"Oh . . . no, nothing like that.  I just wish I came here more
often."

	"Why?"  The woman who said this wore the summer uniform of the Royal
Star Navy, and Jen--and Eileen--had to admit she filled it out perfectly. 
Kaori Sakagami had been described more than once as 171 centimeters of pure
sexuality, and Jen found this difficult to refute.  Now, she turned to look
at the woman, whose right eye was presently obscured by the fall of her
shoulder-length black hair.  Kaori looked back from the window, her one
visible black eye inscrutable as always.  "Hanging around the spaceport when
you're not expecting anyone is about as useful as staying around a train
station for the decor."

	Jen shrugged.  "I can appreciate the architecture."

	"I appreciate it better when it's at my back."  The limousine made a
slow, sedately turn.  Briefly, the other cars in the motorcade came into
view, and then all that was visible was hectares upon hectares of grassy
fields.  Jen knew she was looking straight at--or more properly, over--HSC's
main fuel bunkers.  Thousands of cubic meters of hydrogen were buried
beneath the grass, safe where no crashing aircraft or shuttles could do
anything so inconvenient as cause a massive explosion.

	"I never liked spaceports either, to be honest," said the car's
fourth occupant.  Madoka Matsumoto, the Sailor Senshi of Shaula, looked
distinctly uncomfortable out of senshi dress, and the Hinansho patch on her
uniform was certainly out of place on a woman who hadn't been on the surface
very long at all.  "Too many goodbyes."  Kaori nodded agreement, as did
Eileen.

	"Okay, fine.  I'm outnumbered, but I'm still right!"  Jen blew air
through her bangs, pouted, and crossed her arms on her chest to boot.  The
others laughed, and Jen giggled, dropping the childish act.  "I *do* like
it, though."

	"It's the historian in you," Eileen said.  "You think back to a time
when places like these were still new and exciting.  When you actually had
those silly countdowns before launching."

	"We still have them, though," said Madoka.

	"Nope.  We tick the time."

	"Ticks, countdowns, it's all the same."  Kaori reached for the cup
of water she'd poured for herself when they first pulled away from Planetary
Defense Headquarters.  "Although I suppose they do have their uses.  Once I
was on a date with this guy, and he gave me a countdown when he was about
to-"

	"So, Jen-chan," interjected Madoka, "have you two decided where
you'll go after your wedding?"

	"I'm holding out for Shijo Beach," said Eileen dryly.  Shijo was
located on the west cost of the only continent of Okamoto-VI.  The small
world lacked the land area to be a real colony, but it had gained a bit of
fame as a resort.  Most enticing was Shijo Beach, whose perfectly golden
sands were washed by an ocean which was universally hailed as being the most
beautiful shade of perfect pale blue in the known universe.  In a move 
unusually far-sighted even for the Moon Kingdom, very strict limits were 
placed on the number of visitors permitted per year--and an absolute cap was
placed on the minimal support staff which would remain there.

	The waiting list to spend a week on Okamoto-VI, frolicking in the 
huge waves created in 85% of Earth's gravity, was a paltry eighty-nine years.

	"Sure," said Kaori with a smirk.  "*I* tried getting time there,
they told me I couldn't come until 3055.  No thanks."

	"Really, we haven't thought about it," said Jen, playing with the
collar of her uniform.  "Honestly, just being able to stay here and not be
bothered by the network, or schools, or Luna . . . that would be good
enough."

	Madoka drummed her fingers on the armrest of her plush velvet chair. 
"I didn't know it was so busy out here.  The reports I studied said it was
quiet."

	"Quiet?  Well, we aren't fighting for our lives, no."  Jen sighed
and slouched slightly.  "But you guys on Luna seem to view us as the testing
ground for all your planetary defense systems.  It isn't easy having to
write the book on them."

	Kaori chuckled.  "I wrote some of the proposals for that, you know. 
How are the point defense lasers working?"

	"Well," said Eileen with a wicked grin, "we figured you'd want to
try them out yourself.  So we've left all the sims and tests for you to run
while we're gone."

	"Is that any way to treat your elder?" Kaori asked.  She glanced up
as a series of bright reflections shone through the windows; they'd passed
the security checkpoints and were now on the base proper.  "Nevermind. 
Young people these days are so rude, there's no helping it."  All four women
smiled with the shared joke of an old age which for them would never come.

	Two cars behind them, another, identical car had two occupants in
its rear.  They were significantly less talkative, acutely self-conscious in
their brand-new black uniforms, and both had their eyes fixed on their shiny
black shoes.

	The limousine hit a small bump, barely detectable.  The girl looked
up at this, then checked her watch.

	"Um . . . Takeshi-kun?"

	The boy looked up with a snap.  He brushed back his hair, hoping the
motion masked his true motives.  "Yes?"

	In the bright light from outside the vehicle, Achika could easily
see the glistening tracks of tears on his face.  Achika looked away,
embarrassed, then scowled at herself angrily.  The last thing he needed was
for her to turn away from him.  They were supposed to be partners . . .
weren't they?

	She sighed.  It would seem like some sort of design to curry favor,
of course.  After all, Takeshi would be the first male senshi, with all it
entailed.  She was the senshi who would be with him, and undoubtedly they
would keep her close to him, since they were already familiar with each
other.  With six senshi-designates, what reason would there be for the
disorientation and rigors of true basic training?  It wasn't as if they'd
ever have to do anything truly strenuous on the Moon, at least not yet.  Of
all the men and women she would meet on the Moon, Takeshi would definitely
be the one she could know and rely upon the most.

	So why had she deliberately opened this gap between the two?  Achika
didn't know, but she could feel in herself that it had to be repaired. 
"What's wrong?"

	"Nothing," he said.  His voice almost fooled Achika into thinking he
was being gruff and dismissive.  She'd heard that same voice from Yusuke
when he didn't want to talk, though.

	"Really?"  Achika pondered a moment, then carefully stepped in a low
crouch over to Yusuke's seat.

	"Well . . . ."  Takeshi shrugged.  "It's the goodbyes."  He took
encouragement from Achika's nodded reply, and continued.  "Yuki . . . well,
she was proud of me, I could tell that much.  But I hadn't bargained on how
much it would hurt."

	"I think that's why Sakachi-sensei didn't want our families out
here.  I don't think I could have kept myself together in front of the
senshi."

	"Me neither."  Both were silent a moment, absorbing each others'
admissions of tearful farewells.  "I promised Yuki I'd bring her to Luna as
soon as I could."

	"Lucky.  Mother is entirely too wrapped up in her research to leave
Hinansho."  She sighed.  "I think I'll like it better out there."

	"Why?"  He sat up, genuinely interested.  "Won't you miss her?"

	She nodded.  "Oh, definitely.  My dad, too.  It's just that she can
be, well . . . bossy."

	"Oh."

	"Right.  Oh.  She had such a fit with how much I like
Sakachi-sensei, as if I were the first girl to admire a teacher."

	"This particular teacher has a habit of attracting more, um . . . ."
Takeshi trailed off, at a loss for a more delicate term.

	"More lesbians?  Yeah, I'd heard."  They both chuckled at her dry
tone.  "I don't know.  I mean, I'd thought about her that way once or twice,
but that's normal.  I still love Yusuke-kun."  She frowned slightly,
wondering if she could confide in her future teammate.  She'd have to do it
sooner or later, after all.  "You know, he proposed to me."

	"He what?" spluttered Yusuke, nearly jumping out of his seat. 
Achika couldn't help but smile at his reaction.

	"He asked me to marry him."

	The silence stretched on for seconds, until it was too much for him
to bear.  "Did . . . did you, um . . . ."

	"Did I say yes?"  A hollow laugh.  "How could I?  I've only known
him for a year or so, I had to say no."  She sighed, recalling the pained,
yet resigned expression in his eyes as she refused.  "I suppose we both knew
it was silly.  We're much too young to marry."

	"My mother married at seventeen."

	Achika blinked.  It was the first time she could recall him speaking
of his mother.

	"She was young.  Young and ambitious.  She was already pregnant with
me when she was commissioned in the Navy."  He blinked, and then the normal
Takeshi returned.  "How did he react?"

	Achika shrugged far more casually than she felt.  "He tried to act
normal.  I could tell he hurt, though . . . I think it was his last attempt
to go with me, and he was crushed when he couldn't."

	"Do . . . do you think you and he will stay together?"

	"That's a rather personal question."

	Takeshi blushed slightly and looked out the window.  "I'm sorry."

	They made the turn onto the HCS proper in silence.  "It's okay,"
said Achika finally.  "I . . . we should be friends, and nothing comes
between friends."

	The boy looked up at the light gray cloth of the ceiling.  "I would
have done the same in his place."

	Achika blinked as the limousine slowed to a stop, and the right-hand
door was opened by a woman in military police uniform.  "Ashida-san,
Shibata-san.  Follow me, please." This exhibited another bit of protocol
which had been drilled into them in the last few days: they were addressed
as the planet senshi they would soon be.  As first in the solar system,
counting out from the Sun, Takeshi would be addressed first and leave the
car first.

	Achika would have been just as happy if they'd just taken advantage
of the fact that the limousine had two doors in its back.

	They stepped out and into the fray.  In the triple balance between
family, public, and press, family had come first.  Achika and Takeshi were
given every opportunity to say goodbye to their families in private.  The
price of this was the thunderous public send off by thousands of citizens of
Hinansho, and the hovering cameras of news agencies--both Lunar and Terran,
Achika saw.  The logos of the European News Agency, SkyNews in Australia,
the Moscow Information Network, Beijing Daily Events, and even a few
reporters from scattered small press units in Northern Africa all crowded
close to the yellow crowd-control ropes.

	Takeshi recoiled, not expecting the crowd.  Behind the reporters,
men and women cheered and applauded at the sight of the two young people who
would be senshi.  Some held signs: "GOOD LUCK ACHIKA," "STAND STRONG,
TAKESHI." Both could hear their shouts and cries of encouragement, but even
louder--and closer--were the questions from journalists.  It had been a
decade since the last time senshi were chosen, after all, which made this a
huge event even before taking into account Takeshi's gender.

	"How does it feel to know you'll be immortal?"

	"Are you nervous, Achika-san?"

	"Takeshi-san, as a male, what's your stance on Serenity-sama's naval
expansion?"

	"Is your boyfriend coming with you?"

	"Do you have a boyfriend?"

	"Are you capable of becoming a killer?"

	"This way," said the MP who'd opened the door, pitching her voice so
she was audible without shouting.  She gestured down the walkway which was
cleared for their use: between the yellow ropes was a red carpet,
occasionally marked by the oak leaf seal of Hinansho.

	"Looks like they're glad to see you," came a feminine voice with a
familiar accent.  Takeshi and Achika turned to face Eileen, who stood with
the other senshi.

	"Especially the reporters," said Achika with a scowl.  She was
terribly camera shy--though she'd never told anyone--and there were few
occasions on which it became apparent.

	Eileen shrugged, and the four senshi and two would-bes walked along. 
Kaori and Eileen waved occasionally; the others did their best to pretend
the throngs of people weren't there.  "Oh, they're just doing their jobs,
Takeshi.  I had to give the press *something* in return for letting you say
goodbye to your families in private."

	"That should have been our right all along," growled Achika.

	"Not quite," said Jen.  Her eyes went slightly vacant, thinking back
to a sunny May afternoon a lifetime and two hundred light years before. 
"Back when the School was still training senshi, the press absolutely mobbed
the candidates.  Have you had any phone calls?"

	The green-haired girl considered this a moment.  "No, I suppose not
. . . did you do it?"

	"Yep," said Eileen.  "Of course, in return for leaving you alone at
home . . . ."  She gestured to the crowd, which ended abruptly at fence.  It
was chain link titanium, separating the service road and emergency runway on
which they all stood from the taxi-ways and main runways.  At the end of
their journey, twenty meters distant, was a shuttle with markings
identifying it as HMS Nike's VIP shuttle.

	Jen smirked at the number, NVS-001.  Her first command, HMS
Pleiades, had only the one shuttle, and it definitely wasn't the VIP model. 
Of course, Nike was significantly larger than Pleiades.

	"Look on the bright side," said Kaori.  "You won't have to talk to
them until . . . when?  Did Sailor Cassiopeia say when the press conference
was?"

	Eileen rubbed her chin.  "I think she was going to leave you in
peace until after the investiture.  Probably a week or so."

	"Great," observed Takeshi.  Kaori stifled a giggle; it would be
interesting to deal with a sarcastic Sailor Mercury.  Then again, it would
be interesting to deal with an utterly bland Sailor Uranus, too.

	They stopped at the edge of the crowd, turning their backs to the
shuttle.  Achika raised an eyebrow.  "Photo op," said Jen.  "Just smile and
wave.  If you don't look happy, they'll hop all over you." The two senshi
designates shrugged and obeyed.

	Journalists would later remark on the three pairs: Jen and Eileen,
the soon to be wedded couple wearing the black RSN uniforms to which the
public had become accustomed.  The two waved to the people of a planet which
had almost unequivocally adored them for years.

	Kaori and Madoka, the newcomers and temporary custodians of the
planet, whose personalities could not have been more diametrically opposed. 
They wore the black and white of summer on the coolest planet in the Moon
Kingdom.

	Last, but by no means least, Takeshi and Achika.  Two teenagers: one
male, one female, neither having considered the possibility of becoming a
senshi just a month ago.  Indeed, being a planet senshi was nothing either
of them could have even dreamed of, even after the bombshell announcement on
Queen's Day.

	Somewhere in a control room for one of the major networks, a
director ordered a zoom into the faces of the youngest two.  Achika looked
cool and calm; her teammates would recognized the look seen so many times
when she was in net and an attacker bore down on her, willing to take a shot
at point blank range.  One or two of them would no doubt wish they could see
that look on the field again, instead of the nervousness of the second
string goalie who would replace her.  Such wishes would be dashed once
Furikato High lost four of its next six matches.

	One boy sat on the bed in his room, tears in his eyes as he watched
the girl--woman, really--he'd been so impossibly proud of in the last month. 
He saw the look of determination in her eyes and recognized it for what it
truly was: Achika was terrified.  Yusuke railed at himself for passing up
such a golden opportunity, for turning down the chance to stand side by side
with her and share her fear, comfort her anxiety.  Yet he knew, in the inner
hidden spots of his mind, that such could never be, was never meant to be. 
He could no more be a senshi than he could be queen.

	His eyes flicked to the man who had dared to be a senshi.  Takeshi
looked discomforted and terribly out of place; Yusuke remembered the
redheaded boy had always avoided large crowds, always preferring to be at
their edges.

	"Protect her, please," Yusuke whispered.

	Eileen glanced at her watch.  "Okay, it's about time to wrap this
up,  Give 'em a final wave and we're out of here."

	"Thank the kami!" said Madoka.  She promptly spun on her high heel
and stepped forward to the yellow and red striped line which marked the
closest an unprotected person might stand to an operating shuttle.  "Give my
regards to Captain Ichiyusai."

	Kaori smirked and blew the crowd a kiss before stepping next to
Madoka.  "Hey, that guy over there in the blue cap isn't too bad looking."
Madoka somehow managed not to slug her fellow senshi.

	Jen and Eileen, in flat contradiction of standing protocol on the
subject, held hands as they gave their planet a finale wave. Eileen smiled
brightly, basking in the attention, while Jen's smile was more formal, more
forced.  For the barest fraction of a second, Eileen considered giving Jen a
kiss to loosen her up, but she decided against it.  She really wasn't so
much of an exhibitionist.

	As the couple stepped through the large, open airlock of the
shuttle, Takeshi and Achika were right behind them.  Neither was prepared to
give the last glance at the home they'd known for years.  Besides, neither
had ever been on a military shuttle, and studying its design served to
distract them both from the reality of the situation.

	"It's . . . big."  Takeshi boggled at the size of the passenger
compartment, once he'd stepped through the inner door of the airlock and
into the wide aisle of its comfortable interior.  The seats were large,
covered in red fabric on which was embroidered the crest of HMS Nike: the
goddess hurling down lightning bolts.  A brief examination with a prodding
finger found the seats to be lavishly padded.  "Where do we sit?"

	"Wherever you want," said Jen.  She flopped down into the window
seat in the fourth row, crossing her legs as Eileen sat next to her.  "It
won't be a very long trip, protocol doesn't matter.  Just pick a seat."
Eileen nodded, nuzzling her head against Jen's shoulder.

	Takeshi sighed.  Compared with the poise and maturity with which the
senshi carried themselves outside, this sudden reversion to acting the way
they looked was rather disturbing.  Achika hardly noticed; she'd been around
Jen and Eileen plenty of times when they let their hair down.

	"Want to sit next to me, Takeshi-kun?" she asked.  Turning around,
he found the future Sailor Uranus had found a seat in the second row, next
to the right window.  Briefly he pondered if it should more rightfully be
called the starboard window, but the thought was gone just as quickly.

	"Sure."  He sat.  The seat was sinfully comfortable, supporting his
entire frame.  He exhaled slowly, his eyelids seeming to gain ten kilograms
every second, and another thought came to him.

	'This is just a shuttle.  Just a shuttle for two senshi and two who
would be senshi, and it has more comfortable chairs than a dentist's
office.'

	Takeshi Ashida smiled genuinely for the first time in ages.  "I
think I might come to like this."


HMS Vulcan
3.4 astronomical units from Hinansho
78.3 degrees above the plane of the ecliptic

	Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai smiled to cover her instinctive frown as
four more people crowded onto her bridge.  There was barely enough room for
the normal personnel who had to be present for a Fold maneuver; squeezing
still more people screamed against her instincts as a starship captain.  She
had little choice, though.  They were senshi, after all.

	"Captain Sakachi, Captain Pearcy.  Ashida-san, Shibata-san."  She
saluted the captains and bowed to the teenagers.  "Welcome aboard Vulcan."

	Achika gaped.  She'd seen starship bridges in documentaries, in
dramas and comedies, in simulators and exhibitions.  For all that, being
there in person was completely different.  Simulators didn't capture the
slight tang of ozone from computers and displays, the low chatter of
officers and ratings as they whispered and murmured into the microphones
attached to their headsets, the very distinct chill of a starship.

	She looked at the displays on the forward bulkhead.  Most of them
were baffling to her, but she could pick out the screen which showed a
bluish star receding behind them.  It was Hinansho, very far away now and
getting farther.

	Takeshi shivered.  It was much colder than anticipated.  Of course,
living on Hinansho made one get used to the cold, but going from the warmth
of summer to a meat locker of nineteen degrees centigrade was still a shock. 
Noticing the level of activity, he glanced around and found a small niche in
the wall he could squeeze into and not be in the way.  Achika soon found a
similar alcove next to his, although the back of it was cross-hatched with
small pipes which intermittently ran hot and cold.

	She craned her head around to glance at Takeshi.  She saw his fists
balled up at his side, the boy standing rigid and clearly nervous.  She
couldn't blame him; she'd been through plenty of Fold maneuvers in her life,
but she'd never been on the bridge during one.

	Her eyes glanced over to Jen.  The redhead leaned casually on the
slim metal rail which separated the bridge stations around the wall with
the more vital stations and captain's chair in the center.  In the slight
darkness of the compartment, her glasses reflected the status displays.

	"Looks like everything is running fine, Captain," Jen said to Fuyuko.

	"Yes, Captain."  Fuyuko shook off another irrational wave of
irritation.  Even though she shared the same rank with Jen and Eileen, the
other two were senshi, and she couldn't help but feel annoyed to have women
who were essentially her superiors watching over her.  She could hardly
order them off the bridge, but if she had her way she'd have done it in an
instant.  "Comm, signal to Nike and Juno that we Fold in twenty seconds."

	"Aye aye, ma'am!"

	Captain Ichiyusai stifled a sigh and settled into the captain's
chair, pulling up the various repeater displays and verifying all was in
readiness.  She knew her subordinates would alert her instantly if anything
were in less than perfect shape, but her instructors and past commanders had
also drilled into her the necessity to make sure one last time, just in
case.  "Helm, lay in a course for the Sol system, Modified Katajisto
Technique."

	"Laid in and set, ma'am," chirped the helmsman.  The Modified
Katajisto Technique, pioneered in this very system, shaved days off the
transit to Sol, although paradoxically it would add weeks to the subjective
time experienced by the ship itself.

	"Very well."  Fuyuko glanced at the two senshi behind her, then
shrugged and deliberately crossed her legs.  She hated turning simple
interstellar travel into a huge production.  "Signal engine room to Fold
when ready."

	The blackness of space was marked by stars, planets, and one large
primary, along with three pinpricks of light which were starships.  In an
instant, those pinpricks swelled, crackled with eldritch energy, flashed,
and then dropped out of reality.

--end III

First draft: 16:49 15 July 2001
First edit: 17:19 18 July 2001
Second edit: 23:05 5 August 2001
Third edit (partial) 13:19 7 August 2001
Fourth edit 02:43 9 August 2001