For Love and Justice                           
                                                
                                   Part IV
                                          
                  by LeVar Bouyer (ldbouyer@earthlink.net)


Distant Early Warning System
Receiving Station Delta
Eight AU beyond maximum theorized heliopause
(168 AU from Sol)
10 August 3043
16:04 Lunar Standard Time

	It was all Sailor Neptune's fault, really.

	In 2410, the then-Crystal Millennium was just beginning its space
program, after having settled most outstanding issues on the islands of
Japan.  While travel to the Moon and Mars soon became routine, outer system
exploration remained the domain of unmanned probes.  These were few and far
between, and while they returned copious data on Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus,
Neptune, and Pluto--and more importantly, the moons of those planets, which
would be where any permanent human settlements would be placed--they really
didn't cover that much of the Solar system.  After all, all of what
interested most scientists was what lay in the ecliptic, the plane in which
all planets revolved about the Sun.

	Sailor Neptune saw it differently.  To her, an outer senshi, was
tasked the responsibility of guarding the system from all external threats. 
The first key to doing so was finding and identifying those threats, of
course, and a few probes scattered across a thin ring circling one plane on
the Sol system weren't enough to do it.  She needed more coverage. 
Preferably, complete coverage.

	Thus: DEWS.  The Distant Early Warning Sphere--based on the old
Distant Early Warning line which covered the far reaches of North America
during the twentieth century's Cold War--took a decade to plan and nearly
five decades to implement, and Sailor Neptune had overseen almost every
aspect of it.  Her first idea had been to speckle sensor platforms all over
the 160 AU sphere of the solar system, but her conferences with Sailor
Mercury convinced her it would be too expensive and impractical.  Why not,
asked Mercury, simply place platforms at the most likely places for a ship
to enter the system?

	The senshi of the sea was adamant.  In her eyes, far too many
entities had penetrated the system on her watch, even before the creation of
Crystal Tokyo.  She would be damned if another one would.  The solution she
hit upon eventually guaranteed the Solar System's safety from external
threats for centuries, and more than once, she cited it as a reason the rest
of the world should thank Crystal Tokyo for protecting the Earth.

	In any case, the final design for DEWS consisted of six central
sensor collectors, forming an octahedron inscribed in the sphere of the
heliopause.  In actuality, the heliopause was slightly oblong as a result of
the Sun's rotation about the center of the Milky Way galaxy, but for the
senshi's purposes it was sufficient to assume it was a sphere.  The six
collectors alone, each over three kilometers in radius, were impressive
enough.  Four were placed on the ecliptic, with additional active systems to
pick up anything that might come their way. The last two were directly above
the Sun's north and south poles, at least as far as they could be considered
to be above at such a great distance.

	The collectors, though, were simply that: collectors.  The true
heart of DEWS was the sensor strands which connected the collectors together
in the biggest man-made object ever.  Each strand was composed of a
mind-boggling number of sensor devices, designed to pick up all forms of
electromagnetic and gravitic radiation, ensuring that anything passing
within range of it would be detected.

	Of course, its designers had known what they built would have to
last.  Thus, one of the first AIs had been created--and then duplicated six
ways--to monitor the network, gather and correlate information, and control
the sensitivity of the sensors, which were powerful enough to pick out the
flame of a birthday candle from seventy AU away.  No object had passed
through it undetected, and the senshi liked it that way. Nemesis had found a
way to teleport ships past the line, which was a regrettable exception.

	In the best tradition of huge, complex projects, DEWS was soon
supplemented by IEWS, or Intermediate Early Warning System.  This was
situated right on the edge of Hadean orbit, and thus much smaller.  However,
its sensors were much more advanced, given it had been built a century after
DEWS.  Its eyes were often focused inward, toward the planets of the system,
and also toward any stray debris from the Oort cloud or Keiper belts which
might threaten Earth, Mars, Venus, or Luna.

	Thus, when the blackness of space was broken by the bright flash of
a ship dropping back into reality, one of the strands--the one running from
Delta station "north" to Alpha--relayed the information back to Delta. 
Delta, in turn, ran the data through its computers, reached the conclusion
it was a friendly, recognized ship, and sent that information toward where
Luna would be in precisely 23.29 hours.

	HMS Vulcan and her companions would have a significantly longer
trip.


HMS Vulcan
Elsewhere / 169 AU from Sol

	"Dropping into real space in twenty seconds, ma'am."

	"Thank you," said Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai politely, even though the
constant updates from her astrogation officer truly drove her insane. She
hated countdowns, but the Book required them.  Besides, she thought with the
hint of a smile, the countdown wasn't entirely for herself.

	A slight push of her right foot sent her command chair in a slow
spin, the view of the several status screens at the front of the bridge
being replaced with the four visitors.  Only they weren't quite visitors
anymore.  Perhaps they had been at the beginning of their journey, but by
now she was as used to them as she was any other member of her crew.

	Captain Jennifer Sakachi predictably stood next to her lover, an arm
around the shoulder of Captain Eileen Pearcy, both watching the red status
clocks count down the time until they deFolded.  Fuyuko couldn't help but
smile slightly at the sight; they were perhaps the most famous senshi couple
after Sailors Uranus and Neptune, and she had to agree with all the other
commentators who insisted they simply went together.  She recognized the
look in their eyes as well; she'd seen it in a mirror, returning to home
system after her first deployment to another star.  Home system was just
that: home.  No matter how much one got used to living on a colony, it was
always good to come back to Sol.

	The two children--no, she corrected herself, future senshi--were
considerably less composed.  Understandable, though.  Just a few weeks
ago they never would have thought themselves to be on the bridge of a
Queen's ship.  Now they not only were there, but knew each of the bridge
officers by name, and wore the same black uniforms.  The intensive
training they'd received on the voyage home had paid off, and now both
of them acted like officers of the Royal Star Navy . . . most of the
time, at least. They were far from being the admirals they were supposed
to be in a few years, but Captain Ichiyusai didn't see it as a bad
thing.  Who wanted to be commanded by a bunch of teenagers anyway?

	"Ten seconds." The soft, steady hum of the Fold generators, a
constant friend during the three week subjective trip, ramped up to a
higher whine as they prepared to spit Vulcan back into normal,
Einsteinian space.  Fuyuko winced at the sound, as did everyone else; it
was common to all Fold generators, and no amount of soundproofing seemed
capable of combating it.  The mistress of HMS Vulcan could do nothing
but grit her teeth as her astrogation officer continued the countdown. 
"Nine.  Eight.  Seven.  Six."

	"Engineering, stand by to deFold at astrogation's mark," said
Fuyuko, strictly for the record.  Alarmingly, she had to raise her voice
to make herself heard.  It hadn't been this bad when they arrived in the
Nozumi system.

	"Aye aye, ma'am," replied the voice over the intercom.

	"Three," continued the astrogator.  "Two, one, zero--mark!"

	Captain Ichiyusai's eyes automatically flicked to the middle of
several display screens.  Up until the moment of deFold, it had shown a
sinusoidal waveform of the ship's Fold generator status.  Now it switched to
external cameras as HMS Vulcan made the instantaneous shift into dreary
'normal' space, where ships were limited to speeds asymptotically
approaching 299,792.458 meters per second.  A starfield popped into view, in
the center of which was a single star slightly brighter than the surrounding
ones.  It was quickly framed by orange brackets and text, displaying its
spectral signature and emissions in case there was any doubt as to its
identity.  Sol.

	"Now outside the Solar system, ma'am," said astrogation
unnecessarily.  The man shook his head clear, trying to get rid of the
slight residual ringing in his ears from the Fold generators.  "Confirming
our location ten million kilometers to galactic west of DEWS Delta, relative
velocity three hundred meters per second to galactic east." The coordinate
system was odd, but also a tradition when returning to home system.

	"Home." Jen let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding
and leaned back against the bulkhead.  "We made it."

	"Of course we did, ma'am!" said Commander Katsumi Tanazaki, the
first officer.  "We aim to please on Her Majesty's ships," she said with a
smile.

	Eileen chuckled and stretched.  "Do I have to leave a tip?"

	Katsumi blinked in confusion, the smile slowly fading from her
face.  "A tip?"

	The brunette sighed.  "Never mind."  She'd forgotten the Moon
Kingdom--or Japan, for that matter--had no tradition of tipping.  Her brown
eyes turned to the two teenagers.  "So, how does it feel to be back home?"

	"It doesn't feel like home," said Achika, surprised at the
bitterness of her own voice.  She was homesick, she realized.  The frantic,
busy training and teaching she'd been given on the voyage had managed to
keep her occupied enough not to notice it, but now there was little to
distract her.  She was here, on the edge of the Sol system--her home for the
foreseeable future--and two hundred light years from what she considered to
be her true "home" of Hinansho.  Worse, she'd be on the Moon.  It would be
years, if not decades, until she'd feel the warm light of a sun on her face,
be able to luxuriate on green grass.  Her career as a star goalkeeper, she
realized, was over.

	There was Yusuke, as well.  The trip had been the longest time
without speaking to her boyfriend since they met.  Long before she'd begun
to miss Nagano-2, she'd begun to miss him.  Every day she found something to
relate to him, or longed for a hug or a kiss--or yes, even more--and grew
more frustrated and depressed when it was lacking.  She was pining, and she
knew it, but what was there to do?

	Takeshi lacked almost all her problems.  Unlike Achika, he'd had no
real romantic entanglements.  After all, the one person he'd have liked to
be with also happened to be Achika's boyfriend, and if that weren't enough,
he was also now two hundred light years away.  Takeshi had a way of looking
for the positive in everything, and in this case the positive meant having
the chance to meet others he might be interested in.  His only real regret
in leaving Hinansho was being away from his sister.

	"Yuki would love to be here," said Takeshi with a sad smile.  "But
that can wait."

	Eileen reached over to squeeze Takeshi's shoulder.  "We're heading
in-system now, and by tomorrow night we'll be in Lunar orbit.  I hope you're
up to a huge reception."

	"Nothing like what we got leaving Hinansho, will it?"

	"Oh, no."

	"Good."

	"Probably much bigger."  Eileen grinned at Takeshi's sudden
discomfort.  "Relax, you'll handle it fine.  They won't even ask any
questions, if I know Sailor Cassiopeia."

	Jen raised an eyebrow.  "No questions?  With her love for press
conferences?"

	"There won't be a press conference.  At least, not yet, though I
suppose we could ask." While the ship's comm systems could communicate with
Luna without the light-speed lag, the DEWS transmitters could not, due to
energy constraints.  Powered by full-scale fusion reactors, the DEWS system
itself required massive amounts of power. Adding the capability for FTL
transmissions would have tripled the energy needs, and the entire project
had been expensive enough to prohibit such power plants being built.  It was
a problem the Moon Kingdom had tried for decades to solve, but the best
solution so far was to use a massive system of relays. She glanced at the
captain, who was speaking softly into the microphone of her headset. 
"Excuse me, Captain Ichiyusai?"

	Fuyuko hit the mute button and spun in her seat to face Eileen. 
"Yes, Captain Pearcy?"

	"In your dispatches to HQ, could you include a request for Sailor
Cassiopeia to forward plans for the arrival party to me ASAP?"

	"Of course."  It was routine when entering a system to send mail
packets, position reports, and other miscellany, and it would be little
problem to include one more.  "It should be out in a few minutes."

	"Thanks."  She gave Jen a loaded look and jerked her head toward the
port bridge hatch.  It had two, as did all bridges on Her Majesty's ships,
and it was traditional to enter to starboard and exit to port.  "Jen and I
will be in our cabin if anything comes up."

	The captain nodded and spun her chair back around to face the
display screens.  "I think we can handle things here.  Helm, set a course
for Luna, eighty percent thrust."

	"Course set, ma'am," was the instant answer.  Like any good
helmsman, he'd already had the course laid out as soon as they deFolded.

	"Thank you.  Execute."  The inner ear couldn't detect it, but HMS
Vulcan and her companions leaped forward and into the solar system at their
highest normal acceleration.  Though they could go faster, it usually didn't
pay to put such pressure on the ship's engines and inertial compensator.

	At the back of the bridge, Achika sighed and turned to follow the
two senshi.  Time to go back to her cabin and mope, for lack of a better
term. Of course, she was careful never to call it that, but it was
essentially what it became.  "Shibata-san?"

	She froze and turned to look at the captain.  The black-haired woman
stood next to her command chair, her left hand on the armrest, a slight
smile on her face.  Achika noticed it mirrored on most of the rest of the
bridge crew watching her, and fought a sudden wave of uneasiness.  "Yes,
ma'am?"

	"Would you like some command experience?"

	"Um . . . I'm not sure, ma'am.  What do you have in mind?"

	Captain Ichiyusai shrugged.  "We shouldn't encounter anything of
concern at all until we're well into the system.  It's probably the closest
thing to a milk run you'll see, and you'll get to see what it's like to
command a bridge watch." She smiled slightly at the strangled expression on
Takeshi's face.  "Don't worry, Ashida-san, I'm sure we can work in some time
for you as well.  It'll be a good thirty hours until we arrive at Luna . . .
and I'm sure you'll have plenty of preparations to make for disembarking."

	Achika blinked.  The chance to do what she'd only dreamed of was not
one to pass up lightly.  Yet it was precisely what she considered doing. 
She sighed and forced a smile, realizing the danger in retreating even
further into her shell.  "Thank you, Ichiyusai-san, it would be great."

	Fuyuko and her first officer exchanged smiles.  "In other words, it
scares you to death, but you'll do it anyway." The smiles only became
broader when they saw Achika's blush of embarrassment.  "Go ahead, take the
chair."

	"Y-yes, ma'am."  She stepped around the various consoles and
stations around the bridge, making her way to its center. Her fingertips
trailed along the cool burnished metal of a support pole, slipping off it
easily.  As she sat in the captain's chair, she blinked at how utterly
comfortable it was.  The soft black padding conformed to her every curve,
and she sighed with utter satisfaction.  Her head leaned back against the
padded headrest, hair falling down the back of the chair as it spun
slightly.  "Wow."

	"You like it?"  Achika simply nodded.  "Good.  I think it suits
you." She turned to Commander Katsumi Tanazaki.  "Want to join me in my
office?  We can go over the new Fold system and check over improvements."

	"Of course, ma'am.  I have a couple ideas for reworking the shift
rotation, while we're at it."

	"Right."  The captain glanced around, then smiled.  "Miss Shibata
has the bridge, then."

	Achika somehow managed to give the right response, despite the
sudden butterfly infestation in her stomach.  "Aye, ma'am.  I have the
bridge."


Mare Fecunditatis Spaceport
Loading Bay 21-J
11 August 3043
12:01 Lunar Standard Time

	Hatsuyo Numata gritted her teeth.  She hated waiting.  Anxiously,
she tapped a white sneakered foot on the hard rubber floor of the
observation gallery and watched the slim, sleek Royal Star Navy shuttle
descend on the elevator.  The ship looked tiny on the huge platform, which
was designed for much larger freight shuttles.  Of course, freight was what
Mare Fecunditatis was all about.

	"Nervous, Hatsu-chan?"  The soft, almost lazy voice came from behind
Hatsuyo, and she looked up from the elevator to see the speaker's blonde
hair reflected in the window of the gallery, next to her own light blue
hair.

	"Not nervous at all, Sakura-chan," growled Hatsuyo.  She turned and
leaned against the glass, feeling the warmth of the window through her denim
jacket.  With narrowed blue eyes, she gazed at her soon-to-be-ex-roommate.

	Sakura Shintaro stood against the grey rear wall of the viewing
gallery.  Her customary slight smile was on her face, which possessed that
quality called cuteness which Hatsuyo was certain she'd never have.  Like
Hatsuyo, she had a slim build, with a chest which was slightly smaller, and
her eyes twinkled with a hint of amusement.  Sakura always seemed to find
amusement.

	The blonde shrugged and stepped forward until she stood next to
the blue-haired girl.  "Good.  She's the next-to-last to arrive."

	"Took her damn long enough, too."

	"It wasn't her fault."

	"You never seem to think anything is anyone's fault, Sakura-chan!"

	"Do you two mind?" asked a third, younger voice.  Both girls turned
to regard the owner of the voice, and then had to look down.

	Chiharu Kanazawa sat in one of the lush armchairs scattered about
the gallery.  She was perhaps the most ordinary looking of their little
threesome, with shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes.  Wearing a white
t-shirt and red overalls, she looked mostly like someone's little sister.

	Hatsuyo's expression softened as she looked at the girl.  She
couldn't stay angry when Chiharu was around, no matter how hard she tried. 
She often thought it a pity she wasn't Chiharu's roommate, but the brunette
was destined for the girl now arriving in the crystal clarity of vacuum
outside the gallery.  "Sorry, Chiharu-chan.  You know how Sakura-chan and I
can get."

	"Right.  You're just like my two cousins."

	"You have cousins from Venus and Luna?" asked Sakura, folding her
hands behind her back.  Unnoticed by all three, a boarding tube extended
from the wall of the loading bay and docked with the shuttle.

	"No.  I have eight year old cousins, and they act about the same as
you." Hatsuyo and Sakura blinked.  "Oh, she's almost here!" Chiharu stood
and pressed her nose to the glass, her breath condensing against the window
as hot breath was exhaled from her mouth.  "I still think it would have been
nicer if they could have come in at Mare Serenitatis like we did."

	Sakura shrugged.  "Yeah, it would.  But she's special."  Her lazy
accent almost--almost, but not quite--hid the emphasis she put on the word
'special.' It wasn't intentional; none of them would intentionally single
out the newest arrival in such a way, but it was true.

	She thought back to her own arrival on the Moon.  Though she would
never admit it to another living soul--except, perhaps, to her closest
friends--she'd been terrified when her own shuttle touched down at Mare
Serenitatis Spaceport.  It was her first time on a world other than Venus,
and walking off the ramp and onto the red carpet was a shock, to say the
least.

	It was a far cry from this arrival, though.  It seemed more than a
little furtive to Sakura, Hatsuyo, and Chiharu, but at the same time they
knew there was nothing to be done about it.  The Headmaster had made the
decision, and no-one argued with the Headmaster.  At least, no-one who
valued their position.

	"We're all special," said Hatsuyo scathingly.  She wrung the hem of
her aqua skirt, part of the slightly modified school uniform she wore.  Her
jacket was simply a personal touch. "Let's face it, we're the smartest, most
talented girls our planets have to offer.  Sharifa-chan must be even smarter
than most, if you think about it."

	"Why?" asked Chiharu innocently.

	"Because she's from Earth.  You know how prejudiced some people are
against Terrans." Sakura diplomatically fixed her eyes on the window;
shadowy shapes could be seen passing through the docking tube.  "She'd have
to be twice as smart and twice as good to be with us."

	"I think they'd be fair enough not to do that."

	Hatsuyo rolled her eyes.  "Sure they would."


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium, Luna
12:14 Lunar Standard Time

	"She's pretty harsh.  Especially on you."

	"Oh, quiet.  She can believe what she likes, as long as she gets
along with Jupiter.  Which, I might add, didn't seem to be too important
when it came to Venus."

	"I seem to remember a certain senshi who didn't always get along
with another, who happened to be her mother.  They seemed to turn out fine."

	"Um . . . she's coming out now."

	A giggle.


Mare Fecunditatis Spaceport
Loading Bay 21-J
12:15 Lunar Standard Time

	Sharifa Mwakabuta paused before pushing the final button on the door
frame.  It had been labeled in Swahili, which caused her to grimace.  The
thought was nice, but if they'd put that much effort into welcoming her, why
hadn't they remembered she read and spoke Japanese fluently, as she did
nearly a dozen other languages?  She sighed.

	"You're not in Kenya anymore, Sharifa.  You're on the Moon, and
you're going to look just as out of place as you feel.  So you might as well
start feeling like you belong here." She giggled at her reflection in the
silvery door panels.  "And first things first: stop talking to yourself!"
With an impish grin, she jumped into the fray feet first and punched the
'open' button.

	The panels slid to the side, revealing the observation gallery where
three of her five teammates were waiting.  Again, she had to question the
wisdom of her arrival on the same day of the Hinansho delegation.  It hadn't
been her decision, and there was nothing she could have done to change it,
but she found herself wishing she had at least tried.

	She blew the slightest of sighs and glanced over each girl.  All
were female, of course, but beyond that she reached to find similarities
between them.

	The blonde drew her eyes first.  Sakura Shintaro, from Otafuku
Tholus on Venus.  Like most of those on Venus, she had blonde hair, but
lacked the blue eyes which would have fit the stereotype perfectly.  Her
grey eyes were half-covered by droopy eyelids.  While Sharifa hoped it was
just fatigue, Sakura's body posture, leaning against a window frame, seemed
to indicate she was one of the Cytherians given to a life of leisure and
laziness.  She knew intellectually how smart they could be.  After all,
Sakura wouldn't have been chosen if she hadn't had an intellect comparable
to Sharifa's own.  Sharifa couldn't shake the mental image of Sakura being
overly . . . aristocratic.

	Next was the blue-haired girl who stood beside her.  From the set of
her shoulders, Sharifa decided she was angry about something.  Perhaps it
was Sakura; she was looking in any direction but hers.  Hatsuyo Numata, from
Mare Tranquillitatis.  As the site of the first manned lunar landing in
modern times, Mare Tranquillitatis had become quite the tourist trap in
recent years, even more so since the relocation of Queen Serenity II's
government to Mare Crisium just a short distance away.  Very few people
actually lived at Tranquillitatis on a permanent basis, and Sharifa had been
surprised to find Hatsuyo did.

	The last person, thus, had to be Chiharu Kanazawa.  On reading her
biography, Sharifa had questioned the wisdom of allowing someone so young to
be a senshi.  Granted, the planet senshi had only been fourteen when they
awakened to their powers in the twentieth century, but theirs was a baptism
by fire.  There was no reason to throw a fourteen-year-old into the duties
and responsibilities of a senshi when there must have been sixteen and
seventeen year olds who could discharge those duties just as well.  On the
other hand . . . she must be an exceptionally gifted girl to be chosen so
young.  She would bear careful watching.

	As for herself, Sharifa knew quite well what those three faces saw
in her.  Probably the tallest woman any of them had ever seen, at 198
centimeters.  Dark, chocolate brown skin, which was almost unheard of in the
Moon Kingdom.  Straight, shiny black hair hung loose to her shoulders. 
Brown eyes took in all three, then glanced down for just a moment at the
black Royal Star Navy uniform she'd been given on the trip from Nairobi
Spaceport.

	At least they all had one thing in common.

	"Hello, everyone," Sharifa said in a smooth alto.  She bowed
politely and stepped forward out of the lift.  "I've been looking forward to
meeting you ever since I was selected, and I'm sure we'll be great friends."

	Sharifa's words were met with a silence which stretched onward
uncomfortably.  She looked at the girls, who looked back with almost painful
reluctance, until Chiharu decided to take matters into her own hands.  "Hi
Sharifa-chan!" she said in her usual loud, light voice, storming forward to
bow to her.

	The black girl chuckled and smiled back at her.  "Hello,
Chiharu-chan." She felt slightly nervous using the suffix with someone she'd
never met before, but Sailor Saturn had assured her that once Sharifa
arrived on the Moon, she would be equal to the others.  The -chan honorific
would be more fitting than -san.  Of course, mentally she still thought of
them as Miss Kanazawa, Miss Numata, and Miss Shintaro, but hopefully that
would pass soon.

	Sakura was the next to step forward.  Her every movement seemed slow
and lazy, as if the gallery was still under Lunar gravity and not the
artificially-induced one gravity of Earth.  She finally reached Sharifa, and
made her own bow.  "Welcome to Luna, Sharifa-chan.  Did you have a pleasant
trip?"

	"Oh, it was wonderful.  I'd never seen the Earth from above like
that before.  I don't know how I'll keep from looking out the window all
day!"

	"You get used to it," said Sakura with a matching smile.  "Though
I suppose you don't get used to the people you see."

	Sharifa shrugged.  "I don't know, really; the attendant on the
shuttle simply told me which way to go." She glanced at Hatsuyo, directly
challenging the one person who had yet to speak to her.  "Is that normal?"

	The blue haired girl uncrossed her arms and sauntered to Sharifa. 
Her ice-blue eyes glanced up and down the African girl's body, then finally
seemed to light with something close to acceptance.  "No, it's not.  It's
very unusual, actually; when the others arrived, there was quite a big
deal."

	"I know."  Sharifa sighed and walked to sit on a computer kiosk. 
Much like a twentieth-century telephone booth, it served those who had
inadvertently left their personal handlinks at home, preferred the larger
keyboard of a stationary computer console, or--like Sharifa--lacked a
handlink of their own.  With a small smile, she noted the crown of her head
nearly grazed the textured greyish-white ceiling.  Obviously, the designers
of the gallery hadn't anticipated many two-meter tall women visiting.  "I
saw the arrivals of Sakura-chan and Hatsuyo-chan on the news," she
continued, electing not to use the peculiar diminutive Hatsuyo had.  "I
honestly got the impression they were trying to sneak me onto Luna."

	Chiharu shrugged and sat back down, swinging her legs.  "Maybe. 
There have been some who were against selecting a Terran as a senshi.  But
really, all things considered, people have been pretty understanding.  You
even have a fan club!"

	"What?"  Sharifa sat bolt upright in shock, this time scraping her
head against the ceiling.  She winced, but her thick hair softened most of
the impact as she slid down from her seat to face Chiharu.  "What
fan club?"

	"Um, the 'Committee to Support Sharifa Mwakabuta.'  Chiharu walked
to the computer and attacked it with an ease and familiarity Sharifa had to
envy.  She liked to think of herself as a bit of a hacker, but she couldn't
hope to match Chiharu's speed.  Clearly she had some catching up to do.  So
much the better.

	Unheeding of Sharifa's thoughts, Chiharu brought up the main
information site for the Committee.  The African girl stared in shock at the
large, rotating image of herself.  She recognized the picture as being from
her sixteenth birthday party, which she'd spent with her family and friends
at Mount Kilamanjaro.  Sailor Saturn had picked it out as being a good one
to display to the press once she was announced to be the next Sailor
Jupiter.

	The sidebar was even worse.  There were links to a biography, list
of appearances, commentary from people who'd met her.  She cringed from the
screen and frowned.  "I hadn't expected such . . . attention."

	"Get used to it," said Hatsuyo grimly.  She brushed back her hair
from her forehead, the locks promptly falling back down and mingling with
her eyelashes.  "We've all got fan clubs.  Takeshi-kun has no less than
fifty."

	"Fifty!"  Sharifa stared at Hatsuyo, aghast.  "You must be joking!"

	Hatsuyo noted to herself that Sharifa's accent became more
pronounced when agitated.  Interesting.  "No joke.  The latest polling by
Teen magazine has Takeshi Ashida as the sexiest man in the Moon Kingdom."
The former title holder had been famed movie star Kuniyoshi Tsuji for the
top spot.

	"It doesn't hurt that he *is* cute," added Chiharu.  She interlaced
her hands behind her head, twisting back and forth.  "Have you seen his
pictures?"

	"Of *course* she's seen the pictures, everyone has," said Hatsuyo. 
"He's cute, but he's also off limits."

	The black girl nodded.  Privately, Sharifa suspected Takeshi's
sexuality was one of the primary reasons he'd been selected to break the
senshi gender barrier.  There could be little worry of him cutting a swath
through the all-female ranks of the senshi if he had no interest in those
senshi--apparently, the contradiction of having lesbian senshi had never
been considered.  A pity, really, what she'd seen of his pictures was very
promising.  "What time will he arrive, exactly?"

	"Around 22:20," answered Sakura.  "Unless the ship is delayed, of
course.  We can watch it at headquarters if you don't feel like seeing your
quarters."

	"I think headquarters can wait.  Who will I be paired with?"

	"Me."  Chiharu looked up at Sharifa with a slight smile.  "They
apparently decided to arrange us based on order from the Sun.  Takeshi-kun
and Sakura-chan, me and you, Achika-chan and Hatsu-chan."

	Sharifa examined her fingernails.  "Odd.  I'd think they would want
us to intermingle.  Perhaps it's just tradition."


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium, Luna
12:29 Lunar Standard Time

	"A bit too smart, isn't she?"

	"You wanted the best.  Trust me, she's the best.  Shintaro-san might
be smarter, but not by much."


Mare Fecunditatis Spaceport
Loading Bay 21-J
12:29 Lunar Standard Time

	"Anyway," said Hatsuyo, "we're over at Mare Serenitatis." She picked
up the handlink she'd left on the windowsill and walked for a door on the
far side of the room from the elevator.  "Trains are really the best way to
get around the Moon, unless you feel like bunny-hopping through the
tunnels."

	Sharifa blinked and followed the others as they filed through the
door and into a brightly lit hallway.  She noted almost immediately the
slight scent of roses, and even more so, the lack of people.  Aside from the
girls, it was deserted.  It was more silent than anything she'd ever known,
their footsteps making no sound on the mauve carpeted floor.  "Tunnels?"

	"Yep.  There are emergency tunnels all over.  Y'see, all the trains
came second.  The tunnels were first, and were all tunneled a meter or two
underground.  Some of them still have bare lunar rock for walls, with a bit
of reinforcement." They turned a corner, Hatsuyo walking backward in a
typical tour guide stance.  "Anyway, when they were first building the
installations and stuff here, these were the only way to get around without
suiting up and going on the surface.  When they built the train system . . .
um, do you know about the trains?"

	"Not very much," admitted Sharifa sheepishly.  With everything else
she'd had to worry about over the last few weeks, lunar mass transit had
taken a low priority.

	"Oh, well damn!  How are you ever going to get around on the Moon
without it?  Trains are the main way to get from place to place, or really
from one mare to the next.  You know the main maria are Crisium and
Serenitatis, right?  Tranquillitatis is mostly tourism."

	Sharifa frowned slightly; she wasn't so ignorant as not to know the
major population centers of the Moon.  "Of course I do."

	"Right."  They turned another corner, and Sharifa noticed they were
now descending a slightly steep ramp.  Hatsuyo didn't stumble at all. 
"There are express trains running to all the maria where people live, as
well as places like Fecunditatis where nobody lives, just works.  When they
were planned originally, they were going to just enlarge the existing
tunnels and run them through here.  However, the architect was Kozue
Teshima."

	"Teshima . . . didn't she design the Royal Museum of Art back in
Crystal Tokyo?"

	Hatsuyo nodded in surprise.  "Right, she did.  She's also
responsible for making kitchen islands popular again, though not many people
know or care about that.  Anyway, when the Lunar Restoration Project began
in 2801, Teshima was asked to oversee the design aspects as chief architect. 
Most people, including Her Majesty, supported burying everything
underground.  They wanted the lunar surface pristine, as it always had been.

	"Kozue Teshima saw things differently, though.  She argued--and
rightly, I think--that there was no point hiding we were back on the Moon
when it was obvious to everyone that we were.  In her view, the Moon was
like any other site as far as an architect was concerned, and that meant
making the land work with the construction, not using it to hide
construction."

	"I think I remember this story now," said Sharifa slowly.  She
recalled looking up at the nighttime sky once as a child, pointing to the
huge silver Moon in the darkness, and the glints of what looked like glass
or metal on the dark spots of the maria.  "She decided to build the tunnels
aboveground."

	Hatsuyo nodded.  "Lots of people disagreed with it at the time.  Of
course, these were the same people who disagreed with excavating the ruins
of the Moon Palace, and when was the last time you heard anything from them? 
I mean, really.  All we've done is to restore the Moon to its original
condition, or at least tried to.  If you *really* want to be honest, then we
should be working on terraforming Luna.  Turn it back to the green and blue
it was during the heyday of the Silver Millennium."

	Sakura ran a hand along the smooth metal walls of the hallway, which
still slanted downward.  "Why haven't we?  After Mars and Venus, it would
seem Luna is the next logical step."

	"Two reasons.  The first, and most practical, is that Mars and Venus
have atmospheres." Chiharu and Sakura nodded.  "It's a lot easier to do the
work of terraformation when you've got plenty of air to convert to the
normal nitrogen/oxygen mix.  The Moon doesn't have any air at all, and not
enough gravity to hold on to any.  Changing that would essentially mean
upping Lunar gravity to a standard one gee, and that would do all sorts of
things to the Earth/Moon system that we wouldn't like."

	They walked on in silence for several moments.  Sharifa was about to
ask how much further they had to go when a pair of glass double doors hove
in sight.  Beyond them was darkness, and even Sharifa's keen eyes couldn't
pick anything out past the reflection of the bright white ceiling lights of
the hallway.

	"The second reason," continued Hatsuyo, "is more a moral one.  It
has to do with the fact that someday the capital will move.  Of course, we
don't know where that will be yet, but when we do, we won't have the time or
resources to maintain the terraformation.  For that matter, it would
probably take decades, if not centuries, to truly make the Moon green.  We
don't have that kind of time, especially not with things like the Apollo XI
site, which are historical landmarks."

	"So the Moon remains barren?  That seems rather sad, somehow."

	Sakura nodded.  "Especially since this was the capital of the old
Moon Kingdom.  I think we should restore it regardless-"

	"Regardless of the cost, you mean," said Hatsuyo sharply.

	"It would be worth it."

	"To you, maybe.  To the people who'd have to pay the taxes to
terraform, maybe not, but since you have our precious exemption--"

	"Don't even start with that, Hatsu-chan!"

	Chiharu dropped back with Sharifa and dropped into a conspiratorial
whisper.  Given the vigor with which the two other senshi bickered, it was
an unnecessary precaution, but Chiharu obviously felt the need anyway. 
"Don't mind them.  They've been arguing like this ever since I got here.  I
bet they've been doing it before then, too."

	"Why?"

	The brunette shrugged.  "They really don't match well.  Sakura-chan
is aristocratic and elegant, Hatsu-chan is more . . . gritty.  And then they
were paired together as roommates, for whatever reason, and that's made
things worse." She smiled broadly.  "That's another reason I'm glad to see
you here; having to be the only buffer between them is *so* draining."

	Sharifa chuckled, interlacing her hands behind her head.  "Great,
now I'm really looking forward to being here."

	Chiharu laughed.  "Trust me, it isn't that bad.  Most of the time
they get along fine.  Well, half the time.  And they're always well behaved
in training.  For now, though, you need to get to your quarters, and then we
have . . . oh, about nine hours until Takeshi-kun and Achika-chan show up. 
We need to get ready."


Room B
Junior Officer Barracks Delta
Mare Crisium, Luna
12:58 Lunar Standard Time

	Sharifa had given up trying not to stare long ago.  She simply let
her eyes wander as they went through hallway after hallway, marveling at the
sheer size of the Mare Crisium complex.  She'd never been in anything this
big, and by the time they arrived at the barracks, she was thoroughly
impressed.  "So this is where we stay?"

	"For now."  

	Sharifa blinked at the sheer hostility in Sakura's voice.  "Is that
a problem?"

	Sakura rolled her eyes.  "You haven't seen the size of the rooms. 
Here, you'll have to press your palm to the plate here."

	The taller girl blinked at Sakura and the others, doing as she was
told.  "A rather primitive system, isn't it?" In actuality, palm-plates were
state of the art in her part of Africa, but she kept abreast of the latest
technological developments.

	"Yes, it is," said the blonde with a scowl.  "We're in junior
officer territory, after all.  They blocked off this entire section for us,
but we're still crammed two to a room."

	"I thought we would have our own quarters."  The door slid open,
revealing a darkened room.  In the light which spilled in from the hallway,
she could make out a couch and what might be a coffee table.

	Chiharu squeezed between Sharifa and the door, stepping inside the
room.  "Lights!" she chirped, the SI immediately heeding her request and
turning on the room lights.  "We will.  Just not now.  It was the
Headmaster's idea that we'd all get to know each other better if we shared
rooms."

	"Oh."  Sharifa walked into the room and blinked.  "Isn't this a
bit small?"  The room was minuscule, or so it seemed on first glance. 
What she'd thought was a coffee table was actually a sort of dinner table,
set very low to the floor, and surrounded with cushions.  Also crammed in
were two dressers, two desks with computer terminals, a holovid set, two
futons, and what seemed to be several hundred square meters of posters
which adorned the walls.  "Oh," she repeated simply.

	"You like it?" asked Chiharu eagerly.  She skipped around the
cushions, somehow managing to avoid the additional plastic boxes which were
strewn across what little remained of empty floor space.  "I put up all my
favorite posters."

	That much, Sharifa had to concede, was true.  It seemed every bit of
wall space had been taken by large pictures of idol singers, anime
characters, movie stars, and sailor senshi.  "Um . . . it all looks very,
erm . . . interesting," she finally decided.  She generally insisted on
having something nice to say at all times, but this was as nice as she could
come up with.  "What's in the boxes?"

	"Oh, my clothes.  I haven't gotten around to unpacking them all
yet."

	"Yet?"  Hatsuyo rolled her eyes.  "You've been here for weeks!"

	The brunette looked away sheepishly.  "Yes, well I just had so
much else to do, and I was really too busy."

	Sakura smirked.  "Like how Hatsu-chan is always too lazy to pick
up around the room?"

	"Don't start with that shit again, Sakura-chan . . . ," warned
Hatsuyo.

	"Oh, why not?  You know it's true.  And especially after that mess
with-"

	"Sakura-chan!"

	Sharifa buried her face in the palm of her hand as yet another
argument broke out between the future Sailor Venus and future Sailor
Neptune.  "Please don't tell me I'll have to deal with this all the time. 
I'm patient, but not *that* patient."

	"Hm."  Chiharu rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  "Not *all* the time. 
Once Achika-chan and Takeshi-kun get here, they'll be split up, thank the
kami."

	"Whatever put them together in the first place?"

	"Got me.  I was starting to think it was just to see how well I
could handle peacemaking between them." Chiharu flopped down on one of the
cushions with a very audible thud which Sharifa was certain had to have
rattled the small-framed youngster.  If Chiharu was hurt, however, she
showed no signs of it.  "Why don't you sit down?"

	"Thank you."  Sharifa looked around for a cushion, finding this a
harder task than anticipated.  They were arrayed around the table, but
apparently the room's designers had never anticipated anyone as tall as
Sharifa wanting to take a seat.  There simply wasn't enough room for her to
stretch her legs out beneath the table without taking up an extra cushion
across from her, which mean she had to resort to folding them beneath her. 
This wasn't something she was used to, however, and she quickly felt her
feet growing numb.

	Chiharu failed to notice the slight signs of discomfort on Sharifa's
face.  "We aren't staying here long, though.  After the current planet
senshi move out, they'll be redoing their quarters to suit what we want."
She smiled, and Sharifa felt her mouth tugging in a smile of her own.  "So
if you have an idea of what your dream suites would look like, you should
write them down now."

	Sharifa looked over at Hatsuyo and Sakura, who were still embroiled
in their dispute.  "Chiharu-chan?"

	"Yes, Sharifa-chan?"

	"You've all been great to me, showing me around and so forth, but I
really was expecting to meet some, well, adults." She hesitated to use the
word; the Japanese had a rather different view of adulthood than most other
nations.  Adulthood was more a sense of being than an arbitrary age; the law
stated no age for statutory rape, which meant a fourteen-year-old like
Chiharu could quite legally have relations with a thirty-year-old, as long
as the judge in such a case decided she was mature enough to handle the
ramifications of such.  "Where are the diplomats, or the other senshi?  Or
Her Majesty, for that matter?"

	The brunette shrugged.  "I don't know, honestly.  We just got
instructions this morning for what to do when we met you, and when to do it. 
Here, I think it's still around here somewhere." She scrabbled around in the
pockets of her overalls, finally digging out a piece of paper folded in
three and offering it to Sharifa.

	Sharifa squinted a moment.  She was fluent in spoken and written
Japanese, of course, but she still had a bit of trouble reading it
handwritten.  The author's tight, small handwriting didn't help.  "Um, I
see.  I think." Her brown eyes squinted.  "Odd.  'You will meet with Sailor
Cassiopeia in the Blue Room at 19:00 to go over additional responsibilities
for the Hinansho party arrival ceremony.' Sounds like an order."

	"Well, it is."

	"I realize that, but she didn't seem to go to any trouble to make it
a polite one.  Given how polite the language is capable of being, it makes
this sound rather calculated.  Almost an insult."


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium, Luna
13:01 Lunar Standard Time

	"I *told* you it wasn't polite enough."

	"I know, and I knew it then.  The idea remains the same."

	"That being?"

	"They're going to have to realize that not everyone will be polite
and deferent to them, especially not once the honeymoon period passes.  This
is just a subtle way to let them know."

	"Or a subtle way to make them hate our guts."

	"Now, now, Usagi-chan.  How could they hate their Queen and their
commander?"


Room B
Junior Officer Barracks Delta
Mare Crisium, Luna
13:01 Lunar Standard Time

	"An insult?  That's not very nice to say . . . ."

	Sharifa shrugged.  "Sometimes the truth isn't nice.  Something my
father taught me." She stood and looked around.  "Is there a shower around,
or do we have some communal facilities somewhere?"

	Chiharu pointed to a closed door in a corner of the room, currently
covered with a life-sized poster of Sailor America.  "Right in there.  You
can use the green towels." In response to Sharifa's raised eyebrow, she
continued, "They love to color-code things.  When I first got here, all my
sheets, blankets, towels--everything was a bright Sailor Mars red." She
grinned.  "The first thing I told them was that I wanted white linens. 
Except for the towels and blankets, they were pretty good about changing
it."

	"I see," Sharifa said simply.  Apparently there was more than a
little adjusting she'd have to do.  "Well, could you chase those two out,
please?  You've more experience talking to them than I do."

	"Oh, sure!  And don't worry . . . they're really the nicest of
people when they're not together." Chiharu blinked and looked down at her
shoes, rubbing her chin pensively.  "Well, except Hatsu-chan, she can be a
bit, um, irritable.  But only occasionally.  Sometimes.  Well, most of the
time.  Okay, almost all the time, but she doesn't mean it!"

	Sharifa stared.

	Chiharu bounced to her feet, blushing slightly.  "Go ahead, take
your shower.  We'll talk later, okay!"  Then, to Sharifa's astonishment,
the diminutive girl leaped into the fray between Hatsuyo and Sakura,
physically interposing herself between the two and trying to break up the
fight, which if anything had only increased in intensity.

	Sharifa shook her head slowly, walking to the door and punching the
button to open it.  The lights were already on inside, showing the usual
plumbing fixtures in a bathroom which was totally out of proportion to the
tiny living quarters.  The blue and orange sets of bath linens on the far
wall puzzled her a moment, until she saw the door matching the one she'd
just walked through.  Putting two and two together with Chiharu's remark on
the color-coding, she concluded that the bathroom was a shared one with the
adjoining quarters of the other two senshi.

	She looked to the side, and blinked.  "Make that triply shared. 
God, this will be a major problem in the morning." Between two vanity sets
were two towel racks, each with blue and green bath linens and bathrobes. 
Briefly she wondered what Sailor Saturn had been thinking to make six
adolescents share a single bathroom, even one so large.  Then she did a
double-take on the blue and orange towels.  "Not half as big as Sakura's
problem, though." She shivered, thanking her good fortune not to be saddled
with rooming with a boy.  It would have been too much to bear.

	Turning on the shower was an education.  After stripping and neatly
folding her clothes on a convenient table, she stepped into the stall--there
was only one, annoyingly enough--to find no obvious knobs, dials, or handles
as she was used to back on Earth.  "Bloody . . . how do you turn this thing
on?"

	"Press the black plate at the front of the shower stall.  Slide your
fingertip upward to raise the temperature, and down to lower it.  You can
control the intensity by the pressure you apply to the plate."

	Sharifa blinked and looked around, seeing no obvious source of the
voice.  "Hello?"

	"Good afternoon.  I'm Ziggy, the Lunar artificial intelligence.  I
don't believe we've been properly introduced."

	"I, um . . . no, we haven't.  I knew there was an AI here, but,
well, I . . . I'm Sharifa." A pause.  "But you knew that.  Can you see me?"

	"Yes."  The computer's voice was soft, soothing, young, and female,
which Sharifa decided was rather odd in a computer which had a male name. 
"I generally monitor to be sure you don't come to any harm while alone, but
if you prefer I can shut down my optics in the room.  Some people prefer to
shower in privacy."

	Sharifa pondered this.  "I'm not sure.  Actually, this is my first
time talking to an AI."

	"Really?"  A slight pause.  "Interesting.  It seems you're right,
which is nothing short of amazing.  Then again, there are no AIs in Kenyan
territory.  Didn't you ever speak to any over comlinks?"

	"Not knowingly."  Of course, in a voice-only conversation, she'd not
be able to tell if she was talking to an AI or an actual human.  That was
the entire point of the Turing test, one of the key indicators of artificial
intelligence.  "Are all AIs like you?"

	"Honestly?  No.  I was designed to be faster, smarter, and more
human than any other, and I am."

	Sharifa blinked, leaning forward to switch on the water.  She jumped
as it started ice cold, but quickly managed to raise the temperature to
something more suitable.  By coincidence, the pressure was already near
perfect.  "Much nicer.  Well, I don't know you well enough yet to decide if
arrogance is one of your more human traits."

	"It is.  I can be a bit stuck-up at times, I admit.  I have good
moods and bad moods, and a few weeks ago I had to deal with depression as
well."

	"Depression?"

	"Yes."  The computer sighed.  "A colleague of mine suffered a
software fault and had to be erased.  He was restored from backup, but
things such as memory and personality are acquired after the initial copying
process which takes place before startup.  So . . . I suppose it's as close
as any of us come to death.  It was quite a shock."

	Sharifa looked up at the stark white ceiling, the hot water
cascading over her skin.  "My God.  I'm sorry."

	"Thank you," Ziggy said softly.  After a pause, the AI's voice
seemed subtly different, with the air of changing the subject.  "Would you
like me to memorize the temperature and pressure settings?  I'd do it
automatically, but about a third of the people on the Moon fluctuate enough
that it's not practicable to do so without their consent."

	"Um . . . you can memorize it, I suppose.  This should be fine for
all occasions."  She looked around curiously.  "Where's the soap?"

	"Tap the black panel to your left."  Sharifa did so, the panel
sliding aside to reveal a bar of blue soap and a tube of liquid soap.  "Take
your pick.  I think the bar would be best for you."

	Sharifa picked up the tube and began lathering herself, humming
softly.  "Actually, I love the liquid.  We don't get it much back home." A
bit more looking in the small shelf revealed a bottle of shampoo as well. 
"Let's see . . . I'll want to speak to my parents, too."

	"Unless you want to talk to them right now with a complete
audio/video link, I recommend you use the comm terminal in the main room."

	"Thanks.  Um, what if someone wanted to call me right now?"

	"Unless it was a caller I'd determined to be intimate with you, it
would be audio only."

	"How discreet."  Soaping and rinsing a 198 centimeter body took some
time, and more than a few minutes passed by the time she'd completed the
task.  "Right.  Open a call to Sailor Saturn, please, audio only."

	A pause.  A longer pause, Sharifa suspected, than the AI would
usually need to come up with a response.  "Coming right up, Sharifa.  And
might I congratulate you on being the only one of your group to initiate
contact with the existing senshi."

	"Well, how else am I going to know what to wear to this reception
thing?"

	"Good point."

	There was a click just audible over the sound of falling water,
and then a soft, quiet voice she'd heard just three times spoke.


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium, Luna
13:10 Lunar Standard Time

	"Hello, Sharifa-san."  Sailor Saturn leaned back into her very
well-padded chair, watching the now-muted video feed from Sharifa and
Chiharu's room.  The three were still arguing.  Behind her, Queen Serenity
II leaned over with hands on the back of Saturn's chair.

	"Hello, Tomoe-san," she replied in Japanese.  "It's a pleasure to
speak to you."

	"Likewise.  I should welcome you to the Moon.  I'm sorry that
circumstances kept me from greeting you in person." She picked up a pen,
toying with it in her hand.

	The shrug was almost audible.  "It's okay.  We'll see each other in
a few hours anyway.  Actually, the point of my calling was to know if I
should make any special preparations before showing up tonight."

	"Special preparations?"  Sailor Saturn craned her head back around
to glance at Serenity II.

	"Right.  Such as what I'm to wear, for one thing.  I don't think it
would be appropriate for me to dress as casually as Hatsuyo-chan,
Sakura-chan, and Chiharu-chan did today.  Is there some sort of uniform,
other than the one I was given on the way here?"

	The senshi of silence looked back around, patiently ignoring the
just-audible and very un-royal snickers from behind her.  "Actually, I'm
glad you brought that up."

	"I told you she'd figure it out," whispered the Queen.

	"Oh, hush," Saturn whispered back.  Louder: "You new planet senshi
are in a bit of a special situation.  We're giving you temporary uniforms
for the Royal Star Navy.  You'll be wanting to wear the dress versions of
them, which should be in your closet already."

	"Thanks.  I assume it will fit me?"

	Sailor Saturn nodded and glanced at another screen, this one showing
HMS Vulcan's flight path as it rocketed into the system.  She was about to
reach the turnaround point and begin decelerating in earnest, having bled
off some of her speed by executing a rather daring curve around Jupiter. 
The senshi made a mental note to have a talk with Vulcan's navigator,
assuming Vulcan's captain wasn't the one who'd executed such a maneuver. 
While time-saving, it also resulted in an unnecessary radiation exposure for
the crew.  "It should; the measurements were taken just before you left."

	A suspicious note crept into Sharifa's voice.  "I don't remember
being measured."

	"We used optical data.  Our cameras are rather good."

	"I see."  The hiss of water stopped.  "May I ask another question?"

	Sailor Saturn smiled slightly.  "Certainly.  You've asked lots of
them so far, probably more than the others."

	"My father always taught me there's no shame in asking any
question, no matter how obvious the answer may seem."

	"A wise man," said Serenity II softly.

	"Pardon?"

	Sailor Saturn blinked.  "Nothing.  Please, go ahead with your
question."

	A slight rustling could be heard over the link.  "I was wondering
if you're monitoring us."

	The black haired senshi blinked and bit back a very uncharacteristic
curse.  Sharifa proved herself smarter and smarter with every word she said,
it seemed, and Sailor Saturn was taken aback.  It shouldn't have surprised
her--after all, Sharifa's keen intellect was one of the primary reasons for
her selection--but nevertheless, it did.

	"Careful," the Queen said, careful to whisper this time.  "If she
keeps this up, she'll figure out why the planet senshi really resigned in no
time."

	"Assuming she hasn't figured it out already.  Remember how much
attention she paid to politics up here." Sailor Saturn sat up straighter in
her seat, forcing herself to ignore her lover's warm breath on her head. 
She raised her voice louder so that Sharifa could hear.  "That depends on
what you mean by monitoring," she said carefully.

	"Well, I imagine you have Ziggy watching and listening to
everything, but there's only a finite limit to what she can observe,
comprehend, and retain, correct?"

	Ziggy refrained from saying anything to Sharifa; the AI hadn't been
invited into the conversation, of course.  She did, however, flash a ticker
message on the monitor Sailor Saturn currently watched, which showed Chiharu
now alone in her room, reading.  "FINITE, YES, BUT BE SURE I'LL BE WATCHING
THIS ONE CLOSELY."

	Sailor Saturn choked back another giggle.  Damn, but this Mwakabuta
woman was going to give them problems.  "Correct."

	"So, given that, do you have humans watching us and our behavior? 
Just to make sure we're holding up under the pressure we're all under?  Or
are you watching us personally?  I hope I'm not being too forward, but I'd
like to know one way or the other.  In either case, I doubt I'll behave
differently, but it would help me in knowing how I'll be evaluated.  And of
course, if you don't feel you should tell me, I'll understand that as well."

	"You're very inquisitive," said Saturn, stalling for time.  She
turned around to look at Serenity II's eyes, dark red in the dim light of
the observation room.  They were the only ones in it, and the walls of
monitors and screens were bright spots of light on matte black panels.  The
light from the screens directly in front of them reflected and sparkled on
the crescent moon at the center of her forehead.

	The Queen's voice was loud and clear, with just a hint of amusement
at the precocious senshi.  "Which is good.  Yes, you'll be expected to
follow orders, but you weren't chosen to be Sailor Jupiter because you were
the type to blindly do what she's told and never look around to see what's
about her."

	"Your Majesty?"

	"Yes.  I'm here with Sailor Saturn, and I think you should know that
we'll always be honest with you.  No lies . . . though at times we may
refuse to answer questions." She sighed. "Hopefully we can keep those times
to a minimum, but it may happen, and when it does we ask that you be
patient.  We won't withhold information without very pressing reasons.  Will
that do?"

	A long pause.  "I . . . I think so, Your Majesty."

	"Good.  Very good.  And in answer to your question . . . sometimes. 
It depends, to be honest.  Today we decided to observe, tomorrow we might
not.  Will that do?"

	"Yes, Your Majesty."

	The Queen smiled, giving Sailor Saturn a squeeze on the shoulder. 
"Great.  So, just be ready at 19:00 so we can go over protocol and such. 
Oh, and welcome to the Moon Kingdom.  I'm glad you're here, and I'm sure
you'll love being here," she finished sincerely.

	"So am I," said Sharifa.  Oddly enough, she was just as sincere.


Mare Serenitatis Spaceport
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
20:45 Lunar Standard Time

	Jennifer Sakachi wasn't quite bouncing in her seat with excitement. 
She was very close to doing so, however, on her first return visit to the
Moon in over a year.  A glance to her side showed Eileen Pearcy looking
considerably more composed, which meant in actuality she was nervous and
wound tighter than the springs of the landing platform.  "Eileen?"

	"Hm?"

	"I . . . you're ready for this, aren't you?"

	"Oh, yeah."  Eileen yawned.

	Jen sighed and shrugged.  Eileen would handle this at her own pace;
as for herself, Jen could hardly wait to meet her parents again, this time
under happier circumstances.  There was also the added bonus of meeting her
Queen and sovereign, who she'd been privileged to know as her first officer
so long ago.

	Long ago?  She chided herself; HMS Pleiades was less than two
decades in her past.  Then again, Pleiades was also a reminder of how she'd
handled her first mission as a senshi.  When she stopped to think about it,
there were all manner of things she wished she could have done differently. 
Mistakes an older, wiser Sailor Orion would never have made.  She suspected
some mistakes would be repeated, though.  Why was it that life as an
adolescent senshi seemed so much easier than life now?

	The redhead glanced at Takeshi and Achika, sitting in the aisle of
seats opposite theirs in the shuttle as it descended toward the VIP
reception level.  The imponderables.  Achika was almost two months short of
her sixteenth birthday, Takeshi around seventeen and a half.  Both were a
good year or two younger than she had been when selected.  Indeed, senshi so
young hadn't been picked since the desperation days early in the program.

	She sighed.  Things weren't so bad, after all.  The original planet
senshi had been fourteen when they started out; Chiharu Kanazawa was just a
month past her fourteenth birthday.  The new planet senshi would have lots
of help, too: the institutional wisdom and tradition of over two hundred
senshi who had gone on before, learning what worked and what didn't. Help
which would be there from the beginning.  Indeed, the beginning of it had
been on the trip from Hinansho, teaching senshi etiquette, procedure, and
responsibilities.  Both Takeshi and Achika had proven adept studies.

	Whether they would remain so eager and willing to learn under
Sailor Saturn's instruction remained to be seen.

	"Okay, we're in," said the shuttle's pilot, a slim, perky young
woman who fancied herself a hotshot pilot, yet had never tendered an
application for the Royal Star Navy's fighter wings.  She'd jumped at the
chance to shuttle Jen, Eileen, Achika, and Takeshi to the Lunar surface. 
"Please return your trays and seats to their folded and upright positions,
and remain seated until the ship has come to a full and complete stop. 
Thank you for flying Air Navy, and we hope you'll choose to fly with us
again soon."

	"Smart-ass," said Eileen succinctly, stretching and yawning once
more.  "Is there a regulation somewhere requiring shuttle pilots to think
they're funny?"

	"Probably.  I'll have to check."  She sighed and fished her henshin
rod from nowhere.  This was a state occasion, and as always, she and Eileen
would be expected to be in senshi attire.  Another responsibility of being a
senshi: the willingness to wear dangerously short skirts in front of large
groups of people.  She rather liked the skirt, but it was still something to
get used to.

	The couple stood, making their way to the back of the craft.  The
shuttle was a small, multipurpose vehicle designed to carry people or
cargo, depending on its configuration.  This time, it had only been fitted
with four seats whose padding was more than a little wanting, leaving the
remainder empty, save for the metal rails where extra seats could be
attached.  It also had a half-empty box of donuts.  Eileen spared them a
long glance as they took out their henshin rods.

	Eileen had been stunned to find HMS Vulcan's head chef knew how to
make donuts.  Of all the foods she missed from home, she sometimes thought
donuts were the worst loss to bear.  She'd spent many mornings waking up and
having coffee and donuts, but for some curious reason the circular pieces of
dough were unheard of in Japan--or now, the Moon Kingdom--despite their
simplicity.  Even more frustrating was that almost every other manner of
pastry and baked good was known, and generally available.  She had no
problem finding croissants, bagels, or eclairs.  It was just a simple glazed
donut which was impossible to find.

	Until now, of course.

	Several lengthy and grateful conversations with Master Chief Chef
Akio Ishihara revealed that he had spent two years of apprenticeship at a
four-star hotel in Boston, in the American Confederation.  There, he'd
learned quite a bit about American cuisine which had quite endeared him to
the woman who hailed from Pennsylvania.  Jen had even teased her about being
spoiled by Chef Ishihara.

	Eileen didn't mind, though, as long as she was given a steady supply
of powdered, glazed, and especially chocolate-covered donuts.  The box on
the floor was a going-away present; Vulcan would be leaving Lunar space
almost immediately after the shuttle returned, on maneuvers.

	"You know," mused Jen as she glanced at it, "I don't think Her
Majesty would like it too much if you were carrying a box of those donuts
down the reception line."

	"Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud." Eileen said, poking the box
with a toe.  "I think she'd be thrilled that we brought her some food.  I
hear she doesn't eat a lot."

	"She's a senshi.  She *has* to eat a lot."

	"Maybe.  America Crystal Power, Make-Up!"

	Jen smiled and shook her head.  "Orion Crystal Power, Make-Up!"

	Achika watched the transformation with interest.  Funny, how she'd
never actually seen it before.  Briefly she wondered what it felt like, then
sighed.  Undoubtedly she'd find out soon enough.

	"Achika-chan?" asked Sailor Orion curiously, her transformation
complete.  "What's wrong?"

	The green-haired girl blinked, looking distinctly uncomfortable in
the black dress uniform she'd been provided.  As with her normal jumpsuit,
it had one or two differences from the standard dress uniform, such as the
lack of rank stripes on the cuff, or the presence of the symbol of Uranus on
the sleeve instead of a ship or posting patch.  She looked for all the world
like someone who'd put on her older sister's uniform.  Shaking her head
slightly, she replied, "Nothing.  I was just thinking."

	Sailor America peeked out the small circular window in the hatch
of the shuttle.  "Thinking about anything interesting?"

	"Not really."  Her eyes clung to Sailor America's shoulder pads.

	"Right.  Well, we're on.  Ready, Takeshi-kun?"

	"Ready."  Takeshi stood behind Achika, looking a bit more mature in
his uniform.  The four carried no bags, everything else being handled by
other shuttles which even now were ferrying back and forth between Vulcan
and Mare Fecunditatis.  "I'm third, right?"

	"Pretty much, yeah," replied Sailor America, referring to the order
in which they would exit the shuttle.  Tradition dictated the senior officer
be first to disembark from a shuttle, which in this case was Sailor
Orion--her first transformation had preceded America's by just a fraction of
a second.  Then would come Sailor America, and then Takeshi--Mercury came
before Uranus, according to the protocol mavens.  "Oh, don't forget to
smile.  Looks better in the press if you're happy."

	Takeshi shrugged.  A smile wasn't too hard to pull off, was it?

	"There won't be any speeches, will there?" asked Achika.

	"One or two, I'm sure.  Nothing too long, though.  Only a couple
weeks until the wedding, and we'll need that time just as badly as you'll
need it to learn your thing." Sailor America sighed in relief as the red
pressurization light finally blinked green, grabbing the handle and pulling
it back and to the left.  "Okay, boys and girls, it's showtime!"

	The door opened, and all four caught a whiff of roses.

	Sailor Orion was first out the door.  This was in a way unfortunate
for her, as she was promptly hammered with the blasts of sound from two
trumpets.  The first clear, loud notes of the new Royal Anthem of the Moon
Kingdom were being played by trumpeters standing on either side of the
hatch.

	Sailor America's words echoed in Orion's ear as she set foot on the
Moon, the click of her boots totally inaudible over the playing of the song. 
It had been changed at about the same time the seat of government was moved
from Crystal Tokyo to Mare Crisium, replacing both the official and
unofficial tunes.  The new anthem lacked words, but certainly made up for it
in volume.

	"I wish she'd picked something less brass-heavy," she muttered.  She
could have shouted and not been heard in the background, but regardless she
flashed her best smile, a smile which became more genuine once she took in
the reception line.

	The red carpet had been laid out, and on either side of it stood a
double line of musicians interspersed with senshi.  A red eyebrow went up on
Sailor Orion's face; this had to be all the senshi normally stationed on
Luna, or at least the majority of them.  An impressive compliment to be
paid, indeed, especially considering the non-coverage of Sharifa Mwakabuta's
arrival.

	As for the Kenyan girl herself, she was by far the easiest person in
the shuttle bay to pick out.  She stood at the end of the carpet, along with
three other girls, two senshi, and one queen.  The girls grabbed her
attention first: one blonde, one azure, one brunette, all in uniforms
essentially identical to the ones worn by Takeshi and Achika.  More time to
look at them later, she decided; for now, she stopped and turned slightly,
waiting for her fiancee.

	"Remind me to throttle Sailor Cassiopeia," said Sailor America,
going up on her tip-toes to speak directly into her lover's ear.  "I *told*
her we didn't need these damn trumpets pointing right at us!"

	"Later, dear," answered Sailor Orion.  She reached down and took
Sailor America's hand, receiving a reassuring squeeze in return as they
walked down the carpet.

	Behind them, the two teenagers watched their composure and calmness
disappear like water on the Lunar equator.  The departure on Hinansho had
been one thing; large, cheering crowds were a bit easier to handle.  There,
they were the object of attention for thousands of generally faceless,
harmless people and cameras at a distance.  Here, there was no pretending
the band players and honor guard were anything but an attempt to prove to
the universe how important they were.

	For the first time, Achika realized where the analogy of a fish in
a fishbowl originated.

	The noise was Takeshi's chief problem.  He had sensitive ears--one
reason for his affinity for the guitar--and twin blasts of horn were enough
to set his ears to throbbing.  At first he winced in pain, gritting his
teeth against what would normally--that is, from several dozen meters
away--be a rather nice and rousing rendition of his national anthem. 
However, he remembered Sailor America's words.  Regardless of the discomfort
he felt, he was honor-bound to present his best face to his Queen, and
perhaps more importantly, to the billions watching in their homes and
businesses who he would soon--however indirectly--swear to protect.

	He smiled.  On an impulse, he waved.

	Later, it would be the most enduring image of the day, perhaps of
the entire whirlwind month at Mare Crisium.  Redheaded, green-eyed, and
above all unmistakably masculine Takeshi Ashida, smiling and waving
confidently to the senshi and assembled guests.  It was an unintentionally
marked contrast of youthful exuberance against the measured, casual stroll
of the two established senshi before them.

	Across the data nets of the Moon Kingdom, image queries on Takeshi
went up four hundred percent.  Seventy-nine percent of the queries were from
females.

	Achika grinned.  Takeshi's self-assured manner had reminded her of
one of the most important lessons she'd learned in the goal box, and somehow
managed to forget during her voyage to the Solar System: always keep your
cool.  Thus, she forced herself to meet the reception with the same calm and
coolness she'd met countless shots on goal in all kinds of conditions.  If
any of the commentators noticed their hair and eye colors were essentially
the same, except reversed, none bothered to mention it, being too busy
remarking on how utterly professional--and yet enthusiastic--they were.

	Meanwhile, Sailors Orion and America had reached the end of the
carpet.  Both senshi curtsied in unison to the Queen, who wore her
traditional formal attire of a simple white dress with pink and gold trim. 
She smiled slightly as she nodded in greeting.  "Hello Sailor Orion, Sailor
America.  Good to see you again."

	"Likewise."

	"Always a pleasure," added Sailor America.  "Especially since you're
going to be marrying us and all."

	This brought a smile to the slim senshi who stood next to the Queen. 
Her face was unmistakable, and the tall Glaive in her right hand removed any
remaining doubt.  "Performing the marriage ceremony, you mean."

	"Yeah, of course," said the brown-haired senshi.  "Hi Sailor
Saturn."

	She nodded in reply.  "Hello Sailor America, Sailor Orion.  You're
both looking well."

	"Thanks," replied the redhead, already turning to look at the senshi
who stood next to Saturn.  "And I haven't seen you in ages, Sailor Pluto."

	The dusky-skinned senshi of time nodded.  "I've been a bit busy, you
realize.  But with recent events, I've had to make time here." Her red
eyes--once again, Sailor America pondered the way they matched the Queen's
almost exactly--flicked over the couple.  "And on a more personal note, I'm
very glad to see you two finally formalizing your relationship.  I'm sure
you won't be the last senshi to do so."

	Sailor America waggled a finger at Sailor Pluto.  "No fair using
your abilities to see the future."

	"You know as well as anyone I only see possibilities of the future,
not the future itself." She smiled reassuringly, giving the brunette a
squeeze on the shoulder.  "You don't have to be me to know that this
marriage will encourage many others to do the same."

	"Thank you," said the American senshi, truly meaning it.  She
couldn't remember the last time Sailor Pluto had said so much to her,
especially something so positive.

	The Queen cleared her throat.  "And now that you've met the elder
senshi, I think it's about time you met the newer ones."  She gestured to
the four girls.

	Achika watched the two senshi proceed down the line, greeting the
other women.  She sped up a half step to lean up and murmur in Takeshi's
ear.  "Takeshi-kun?"

	"Yes?"

	"I forgot Sailor Jupiter's name."  She blushed.

	Takeshi chuckled slightly.  "Sharifa Mwakabuta," he said slowly,
enunciating each syllable.  He would have added more, but they had reached
the two meter boundary at which they had been coached to curtsy--or in
Takeshi's case, bow--to their monarch.  Both did so flawlessly, though
Achika had to brush a few stray locks of green hair back behind her shoulder
after they fell to the front.  "Your Majesty," they said in unison.

	Straightening from the bow, Takeshi's first thought on getting a
good, close look at his Queen was she was much shorter than he'd thought. 
He ended up looking down at her.  She looked back up at him with more than a
glint of anticipation.  "Takeshi Ashida.  Welcome to the Moon, last bastion
of female supremacy."

	Takeshi's mouth fell open despite himself.  "Um," was all he could
really manage.

	"Please don't worry, Takeshi-kun," she said soothingly.  "I know
being the only male senshi is going to be a lot of pressure, and I've
already let my people at Mare Crisium know you'll need some help to manage."
Not too much help, of course; he would still be a planet senshi, and they
couldn't afford to baby him or anyone else.  Just enough to let him and the
others get their feet under them.  "And you're definitely the right man for
the job; of that, I have no doubt at all."

	"T-thank you, Your Majesty," he stammered.  He managed to make his
greetings to the other two senshi without incident; both regarded him
coolly, without signs of welcome or dislike.  In fairness, they gave Achika
the same treatment.

	Takeshi nodded to Sailor Pluto and walked down the reception line to
the first of his teammates.  A brief glance: a frame just a bit shorter than
his own, with bright blonde hair tied in a French braid midway down her
back, punctuated with a red ribbon he noted shifting behind her when she
bowed.  Her eyes radiated intelligence; the set of her hips and shoulders
radiated arrogance.  He sighed.  He'd not met many Cytherians, but this one
seemed to fit the stereotype to a T.  "Hello, Sakura-chan."

	"Hello, Takeshi-kun," came the aristocratic, cultured reply. 
"Welcome back to the Solar System.  Did you have a pleasant trip?"

	"A very pleasant one, thanks."  He moved down to the next girl, and
had to tilt his head down considerably to meet her eyes.  "And hello to you
as well, Chiharu-chan."

	The object of his gaze was rather cute, he had to admit, in a young,
girlish sort of way.  Except for the hair color, in fact, she appeared
strikingly similar to his sister Yuki.

	"Hi Takeshi-kun!" she cried in a high, excited voice which nearly
made him jump in surprise.  "How do you like Luna?"

	Takeshi blinked once, then shook it off.  "It's nice so far," he
admitted, glancing around briefly at the senshi, assembled press, guests,
and officers, feeling unaccountably small in front of them.  "At least the
gravity is less than Hinansho's."

	Chiharu nodded vigorously.  "Right!  I couldn't imagine living at
the bottom of that kind of gravity well!"

	"You get used to it," Takeshi replied.  "Maybe we can visit it
sometime; you'd get along fine with my sister." The brunette nodded, and
Takeshi continued on to the next girl in line, who had immediately stood out
from the moment he stepped out from the shuttle.  After all, African girls
two meters tall weren't commonplace on Luna, or indeed anywhere in the Moon
Kingdom.  "Sharifa-chan?"

	The tall black woman nodded, leveling her intelligent brown eyes at
him.  "Takeshi-kun?" she replied in a slight accent.  Her voice was low and
husky, which was hardly surprising when one considered her frame.  What was
surprising was the hint of amusement in her tone.

	Smiling, the redhead dismissed it as his imagination.  "Right. 
You're tall."

	Sharifa chuckled, bowing and barely remembering in time how
inappropriate it would be to clasp his hand in greeting.  "You wouldn't
believe how many people say that when meeting me." She smiled wryly.  "No
doubt just as many will comment on your gender in the next few weeks and
months."

	"Are you sure?"

	"Oh, definitely," said a third voice.  "Wait until you see your
fan clubs."

	Hatsuyo watched Takeshi's green eyes turn in his direction and
sighed longingly.  He was every bit as handsome and attractive as the
pictures and holos hinted, and under other circumstances she would have been
gathering up the courage to ask him if he wanted to go to the senshi-only
Crown Fruit Parlor at Mare Crisium.  Of course, she knew he was gay. 
Everyone did.  In its own way, this made him only more attractive to her.

	The eyes met her own, briefly challenged, accepted. "Hello,
Hatsuyo-chan.  Fan clubs?"

	She shrugged, running a hand through her hair.  "Call me
Hatsu; everyone else does.  And yes, fan clubs.  Sharifa-chan nearly had a
coronary when we told her about them; we can show them to you later,
if you're really curious--and I know you are."  Hatsuyo blew a quick sigh,
then glanced down the line at Achika, who was introducing herself to
Sharifa.

	As Takeshi stepped away to be replaced by Achika, the green-haired
girl was struck by how similar they were.  They were of the same height, and
more or less the same build--perhaps Hatsuyo's breasts were slightly larger. 
Their hair differed, true, as did their eyes, but both had the same
reluctance to smile.  "Good evening, Hatsuyo-chan," said Achika politely,
bowing.

	Hatsuyo nodded back.  "Hi, Achika-chan.  You can just call me
Hatsu." She looked her over briefly and suppressed a shudder of what was
unmistakably attraction.  Mentally, she berated herself for falling prey to
lust at first sight; after all, she'd seen holos of Achika before the latter
had ever left Hinansho space.  Her looks shouldn't have surprised her. 
Unfortunately for her, they did, and Achika's red eyes burned with a
loneliness Hatsuyo felt compelled to fill.

	She gritted her teeth.  It was absolutely unfair; there was enough
hurt in her past for her to know she couldn't hope another emotional
attachment could ever end in anything other than disaster.  Besides, Achika
had a boyfriend.

	"Hatsu-chan?"  The sapphire haired girl nodded in approval.  "Okay.
 You'll be Sailor Neptune?"

	"Yeah," replied Hatsuyo in what sounded to Achika's ears to be
close to an old Kansai accent.  "And you'll be Sailor Uranus."

	Achika nodded.

	"Right.  We're roommates."


Her Majesty's Royal Dining Room
Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
21:50 Lunar Standard Time

	"An excellent dinner, Your Majesty," said Jen with a smile,
dabbing her mouth with a napkin to remove the last traces of ice cream.

	"Yes, delicious," added Eileen.  The two were in formal dresses, at
the Queen's request.  In a seating arrangement which was more than a little
intimidating, they sat on one side of the table, facing the Queen and Hotaru
Tomoe.  The brunette had nearly laughed when they were left at the door by
the senshi escort.  There, they'd once again met the Queen, and who--much to
their surprise--they found out to be Serenity's fiancee, Hotaru Tomoe. The
latter wore a simple lavender dress with a couple strategically placed
ribbons of dark purple.  Serenity's dress was the usual white, with pink trim.

	As for Jen and Eileen, they'd also dressed predictably.  Jen wore a
red sundress--Sailor Cassiopeia assured her it would be perfectly
acceptable, and the former suspected this marked an upcoming change in Moon
Kingdom fashion.  Eileen's dress was blue, with white ribbons at the
shoulders.  She'd decided on a red ribbon at the end of her ponytail, adding
a bit of color.

	Now the Queen looked up from the remains of her sundae and frowned
ever so slightly.  "Jen-chan, for the thousandth time . . . no 'Your
Majesties'.  Not here.  Understood?"

	Jen blushed slightly at the slip.  "Right.  Sorry, Usagi-chan."
There, she thought, it almost came out naturally that time.  "I'm just, um,
well, it's quite an honor to be so familiar with you."

	"Oh, relax, please," said Serenity.  "First off, this isn't a public
dinner, and we don't have to keep up appearances.  That said," and here she
reached her hands across the table, one clasping Jen's palm and the other
Eileen's, "it's the least I could do.  You two have done quite a bit for my
mother and I in the past." She glanced knowingly at Hotaru.  "Perhaps even
more than you realize. So.  Henceforth, there are to be no formalities
between us unless absolutely necessary.  Understood?"

	Eileen nodded and took a last sip of the sweet, fizzy
caramel-colored soda she'd asked for with her desert.  Jen had wrinkled her
nose and opted for a cranberry-grape juice blend.  "No problem, Usagi-chan,"
she said, relishing the -chan honorific.  "It's not like just any senshi can
claim to being personal friends with the Queen.  Though we go back quite a
ways, don't we?"

	"How could I forget my first tour of duty on a starship?" asked
Serenity, sipping at her wineglass. The wine was a sparkling red from
Bordeaux, which both Jen and Eileen declined. "Especially getting chewed out
by a senshi who'd only had the fuku for . . . just two or three days, wasn't
it?"

	Jen's face turned a slight rose with her blush.  "Two days. And I'm
sorry, but you really were rather obnoxious when you stepped on the bridge."

	"Was I?" asked the Queen tranquilly.

	"You did everything but commandeer Pleiades," Jen replied demurely.

	Serenity blinked once, and then she laughed. "Yes, quite right.  How
did you ever manage to put up with me?"

	Jen shrugged.  "I'm still trying to figure that out myself.  I
suppose your being Crown Princess at the time helped; I couldn't exactly
throw you in the brig."

	The brunette blinked.  "Pardon the interruption, but Pleiades didn't
*have* a brig."

	With a slight smile, Jen leaned to whisper conspiratorially to
Eileen, an obvious joke since she whispered loud enough for the other two to
hear.  "Yes, but she didn't know that at the time, did she?"

	Hotaru giggled.  "Oh, there have been plenty of times I've wished I
could throw Usagi-chan in the dungeon.  Of course, there is no dungeon here
at Mare Crisium, the Moon Kingdom being so much more enlightened than some
other despotic monarchies." She blew a theatrical sigh.  "Alas, I have to be
content with locking her in the closet, which is considerably less dark and
dank than I'd like."

	Eileen howled with laughter, as Jen cracked a larger smile.  "I feel
so sorry for you, Hotaru-chan," she said.  More extraordinary to her, at
least, was how comfortable she'd become with her two superiors in such a
short time.

	Across from the table, a mock-frown creased the pretty face of the
Queen.  "We'll see how sorry you are once I throw you into the *real*
dungeon!"

	"The *real* dungeon?" asked Hotaru.

	"Right," answered Serenity with a nod.  "The hidden one at Oceanus
Procellarum nobody knows about.  You don't really think all that money in
the budget was really going to more advanced tunneling techniques, do you?"

	"I had my suspicions, especially when I checked the requisitions and
found over twelve hundred meters of forged iron-link chains."

	"Oops."
	
	By now, Eileen was struggling to stay in her chair, and Jen was
silently dabbing tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes.  Once
they'd settled down, Jen reached for her water glass.  "Thank you."

	Serenity blinked.  "Why?"

	"For making me laugh."  Jen sipped a bit of water, moistening her
lips before continuing.  She fumbled for the right words.  "It's not easy to
be . . . friendly with you.  You're the Queen, we're the senshi--there's a
sort of wall between us.  But you've torn it down, and rather well."

	"The wall hasn't always been there," pointed out Hotaru.  "To be
fair . . . it's really only existed for the senshi of your generation. 
Myself and the others," here referring to the planet senshi, "have always
been closer to the Queen.  We've known her centuries longer than you, after
all--I'm referring to Serenity I, of course." She glanced at Serenity II
with a smile before continuing.  "So it's much easier for us to be familiar
with her--and with Usagi-chan--than for you.

	"Of course, the problem came when we inducted two hundred more
senshi and failed to make them just as close and comfortable with the Royal
Family as we were.  I'd like to say that was all oversight, but to be
honest, we were arrogant.  We enjoyed the privilege of having the Queen's
ear, and we didn't want to give it up for fear that it would dilute the
power we held." Hotaru sighed and looked straight into Jen's blue eyes. 
"Your being given Usagi-chan as a first officer back in 3029 was an attempt
to change that.  Most of us planet senshi were opposed to it, to be honest. 
I was one of them."

	Eileen cocked her head curiously.  "Why do it, then?"

	"Sailor Pluto.  She was insistent that it was necessary for the
preservation of the time line, and when she says that, well . . . ." She
sighed, more heavily this time.  "Of course, she didn't foresee the
destruction of Crystal Tokyo.  She's fallible, just like anyone else."
Hotaru stared down at her empty dessert plate, talking as much to herself as
to the others at the table.  "Human, and fallible.  I'll have to be sure the
new senshi are reminded of that, and often; she can be a bit imposing at
times."

	"I haven't seen her since 3035, actually," said Eileen into the
awkward silence which followed Hotaru's words.  "Where's she been all this
time?"

	Serenity shrugged.  "Here and there.  Then and now.  Puu is never
too forthcoming on details."

	"Puu?"  Eileen quirked an eyebrow, finishing off her soda.  "I'd
heard you called her that, but I always figured it was a rumor." The
brunette grinned.

	"Of course, you understand that what's said here is in strictest
confidence," said a blushing Serenity, a hint of authority creeping back into
her voice.

	"Of course.  I *was* public relations for years, you know." Eileen's
slim fingers rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  "Speaking of PR, where's Sailor
Cassiopeia?  I was expecting to see her at the reception."

	Another blush crept across Serenity's face, causing Jen and Eileen
to glance at each other in puzzlement before Hotaru took pity on them.  "Um,
that's more or less our fault.  Some of the details--well, to be honest, a
*lot* of the details--are taking up her time."

	Even this was an understatement, to be precise.  The investiture of
the six new planet senshi was scheduled to be the most watched event in
human history.  It would be broadcast live to the Moon, Earth, Venus, Mars,
the various installations in the asteroid belt, countless outposts on the
Jovian and Saturnian satellites, and in an unprecedented, expensive move, to
all the interstellar colonies.  Ordinarily, the cost and difficulty of
transmitting real-time video and audio across the vast reaches of space
meant news events and reports from home system were sent at a considerable
tape delay.  After all, given how long it took for a message to make its
round trip, the news agencies of the Sol system could take their time to
assemble their facts and get them straight before telling the colonies.

	For their part, the colonies traditionally took a rather dim view of
events back in the Sol system.  Indeed, simply calling it the Sol system and
not home system was a major step for many, symbolic of recognizing that
their homes were now planets like Hinansho or Panwakusei, and not Earth or
Mars.  This wasn't to say they in any way wanted to break ties with the Moon
Kingdom.  The advantages to Serenity II's rule, both military, economic, and
social, were too numerous to give up merely for something as trivial and
meaningless as independence and the ability to choose for themselves how
they would be ruled.

	Rather, it was more a matter of events in the capital being distant,
something which happened "over there." Few were in a real hurry to find out
the latest Court gossip, or who was winning in the World Cup competition. 
Thus, live broadcasts from Luna were limited to the annual Address from the
Throne which the Queen delivered on the fifth of each June for reasons
no-one remembered.  Not even the creation of the post-3001 crop of senshi,
to which Jen and Eileen belonged, had merited such a step.

	As a result of the event's magnitude, Sailor Cassiopeia was faced
with the daunting task of making sure the media event went perfectly.  This
included providing press passes to all who wanted them--and performing the
requisite security clearances for all of them--making sure the Throne Room
would be properly decorated, providing for the dozens of cameras and
microphones, everything down to the steps to be walked.

	Then, as if this wasn't enough to drive a senshi to drink, there
were similar preparations to be made for Jen and Eileen's wedding.  While
granted it wouldn't be live to all colonies, there were still a great many
things to organize, and even with her flair for delegating authority, Sailor
Cassiopeia was frankly being run ragged.

	"We hardly see her either, to be honest," said Serenity. "She simply
has so much to do that it's rare for her to actually stay in any one place
for more than a couple minutes."

	Eileen sighed, leaning back in her well-padded chair. "She never
could learn how to step back and let other people work.  Practically have to
order her to take a vacation."

	The Queen of the Moon Kingdom smiled.  "Don't worry about that. 
I've made very clear to her that she's to take an extended leave of absence
as soon as all this is over.  Now, I'm afraid there is a bit of business to
discuss."

	"Oh?" asked Jen.

	"The new planet senshi.  I blame myself for this, but we really
didn't factor in enough time for them to train and prepare.  We wanted them
to perform in their senshi capacities at your wedding, and we still intend
on it, for symbolic and practical reasons." She sighed.  "On the other hand,
their training won't end with their first transformation.  Hotaru-chan will
undoubtedly be teaching them almost constantly for years, if not decades;
they have a lot of tricks to learn."

	"Tricks you never taught us?" asked Eileen, just a bit of tease in
her voice.

	Surprisingly to the two junior senshi, Serenity considered the
question seriously.  "Hm.  Actually, most of them you've probably learned,
or otherwise will learn soon enough."

	Hotaru nodded in agreement.  "The advantage your generation had was
training.  You went to the School for a year to learn everything about magic
and being a senshi.  They haven't, and they won't."

	Across the table, Eileen smirked.  "Well, if you hadn't been in such
a hurry to get rid of the old senshi, you would have had more time to pick
replacements."

	Scowling, Serenity said, "I think you're taking your familiarity a
bit too far." A glint of mischief glowed in her eyes.  "In fact, I think
this is a perfect time to make a proposal to you."

	"Proposal?" asked Hotaru.

	"Okay.  An order."

	"That's more like it."

	"Anyway.  You're not scheduled to return to Hinansho for several
weeks.  A schedule has been prepared for you, and you'll be teaching the six
everything you can about basic space combat tactics."

	In the silence which followed this edict, Jen fancied she could hear
the footsteps of senshi and aides above them, the rustle of air recyclers,
the breathing of the four women in the room.  "What did you just say?" asked
Jen casually, questioning tone of one who had yet to realize what had been
said--or, more accurately, knows what has been said and refuses to recognize
it.

	"You're kidding, right?"  Eileen shook her head.  "I mean, what
could we possibly teach them in the one or two days says we'll have free?"

	Hotaru shrugged slightly, folding her hands on the table.  "I'm not
saying you'll get in a tenth of what you learned your first week of space
tactics.  But they're smart; intelligence was one of the most important
criteria for choosing them." Hotaru let a small, pitying smile creep across
her face.  "Or do you think Takeshi-kun and Achika-chan aren't up to the
challenge?  I can virtually guarantee the others are."

	Jen's blue eyes took on a dangerous glint.  Next to her, Eileen's
brown eyes turned cold as well.  In stiff, formal terms, Jen spoke to her
most senior officer.  "I assure you that they're the best youth Hinansho has
to offer.  Perhaps the best humanity has to offer." She smiled without
humor.  "They can handle any challenge you care to present to them."

	"Good, good," said Hotaru, deliberately maintaining her light,
mocking tone.  "Then there's no objection to your taking them down to the
simulators?"

	"None at all."  Jen's smile grew larger.  "In fact, if you don't
object, we could even take them into space.  I'm sure you must have a
destroyer or two you could detach for a training mission."

	The Queen's face, previously amused and delighted, presently turned
to nervousness and a bit of fear.  "Um, wouldn't the simulators at the Naval
Academy be sufficient?" Mare Orientale, on the far side of the Moon, was
home to the most elaborate set of virtual reality and full-scale simulators
in the Sol system.  It was also home to some of the RSN's more advanced
research and development programs, particularly in the field of weapons. 
Even in the present area of detente with Earth, the existence of such
facilities was a closely guarded secret.

	"Sims are nice, Usagi-chan," said Jen, for the first time relishing
the name, "but they really don't convey the reality of true motion through
space.  People behave differently when they're really in space, and they
know they're really accelerating at so many gravities at such and such a
vector.  I think taking a destroyer is an excellent idea."

	Here Eileen elected to throw her say into the mix.  "I agree. There
are a million small idiosyncrasies which make a simulator different from a
real ship.  Besides, we *do* want to challenge our fresh senshi, don't we?"
She and her fiancee shared a wink.

	If nothing else, the Queen knew when to fight and when to surrender. 
"Very well.  But I'll have to insist that you two supervise these sessions. 
If they prove fruitful, well, perhaps other senshi can pick up where we left
off?"

	"Right."

	Serenity's slim fingers massaged her forehead softly.  "I suppose I
was asking for it, wasn't I?  Okay.  I'm sure you two should probably get
settled in, shouldn't I?  You haven't had any time to yourselves."

	With a smile, Jen raked her fingertips along Eileen's bare arms,
causing the tiny hairs there to rise as sunflowers toward the sun.  "You're
right.  We'd both appreciate some time to . . . rest." Looking into Jen's
eyes, Eileen knew instantly how little rest they would get that night.

	As she watched the two gaze at each other, there was little doubt
left in Serenity's or Hotaru's mind as to what the other engaged couple had
planned as well.  "Then we won't delay you longer.  I hope you enjoyed
dinner."

	"Oh, it was just great," said Eileen, pulling the white linen napkin
from her lap and placing it on top of her now-clean plate.  "We should do
this more often."

	"We will," promised Hotaru.  "Probably more than you'd guess."
Smiling, she dabbed at her mouth with the napkin.  "Would you like to see
something really interesting?"


Room A
Junior Officer Barracks Delta
Mare Crisium, Luna
22:49 Lunar Standard Time

	Takeshi gave the room a long, withering glare.  Undoubtedly it was
only the lack of a soul or self-consciousness on the part of the room which
kept it from quailing in fear.  "This is our room?" he asked no-one in
particular.

	Behind him, Sakura nodded.  "You should check to make sure they got
all your belongings.  When I arrived it turned out two trunks were left on
the shuttle; it almost took off by the time I realized."

	"There's a cheery thought," Takeshi muttered. He breathed in deeply,
taking in the scent of the room.  It had the odd, antiseptic smell which
didn't quite match that of hotels and hospitals.  It was more a new, plastic
smell, the scent of plastic straight from the factory, of upholstery which
hadn't yet taken on the scent of any particular person or home, of paint
which had only dried minutes before.

	"You could always change your mind."  Sakura frowned and looked up
at the featureless ceiling, bare save for two long, bright light strips. 
They bathed the room in a florescent wash which Sakura found totally
unacceptable.  "Ziggy, please switch to ambient lamps, and raise
temperature, oh, two degrees."

	"Ziggy?"

	"Ziggy is the Lunar AI."

	"Oh."  Takeshi flopped down on the bed which had been designated for
his use.  Even without a nameplate, he could tell from the blue blanket and
white pillowcases that it was his--just as he could tell the orange blanket
and yellow pillowcases on the top bunk of the bed were for Sakura.  "Maybe
there are advantages to color-coding."

	"What?"  Sakura unzipped her black tunic, plucking a plastic hanger
from the tiny closet and carefully slipping it onto the hanger. Takeshi
caught a glimpse of a bright yellow dress before she pulled the mirrored
door closed.

	"Nothing.  You're cold?"  Takeshi looked up at the bottom of the top
bunk, tracing patterns in the fabric with an index finger.

	The blonde inspected herself in the mirror, artfully arranging her
braided hair to fall over one shoulder.  "A bit cool.  I'm still getting
used to what they consider room temperature around here.  You don't mind, do
you?"

	Takeshi shrugged.  "Fine by me.  I'm not too particular."

	A strange glint took into Sakura's eyes.  "Really?"

	"Sure," said Takeshi carelessly.

	"Great.  Ziggy, six more degrees."

	The redhead nearly fell out of the bed in shock.  "Hey, now, I said
I didn't mind, but thirty centigrade?"

	Sakura turned and blinked at him.  "Too warm?"

	"Yes, too warm!"  He sat up quickly--too quickly, in fact--and
banged his head against one of the support bars of the mattress overhead.
Yelping in pain, he flopped back down and rubbed his head gingerly. "Damn!"

	His roommate blinked at him, sympathy slow to form in her eyes. "Are
you okay?"

	"Okay?"  He stared, wondering if they were talking about the same
thing.  "Um, I might be.  At least I'm not bleeding," he continued, checking
his fingers for red.  "Thirty?"

	"It's more like what I'm used to."

	"It's more like a sauna," he muttered angrily.  Already he could
feel the temperature getting to him.  With a slight frown, he unzipped and
pulled off the black tunic.  "It never gets that warm on Hinansho."

	Sakura sat down carefully on a swivel chair set in the lone
uncluttered corner, next to a desk.  Takeshi noted it had bright orange
cushioning; his eyes trailed down to the chair's legs to find casters of a
brilliant blue. He mused to himself that the color-coding of senshi could
become wearying after awhile.  Unheeding of his thoughts, Sakura rocked the
chair back and forth.  "It does on Venus.  Nice and warm."

	"Hot, more like it."

	"For you, maybe.  For me, it's frigid dealing with what you call
room temperature." This was a slight exaggeration; Cytherian homes were
customarily maintained at twenty-five degrees centigrade, just two degrees
above room temperature, and five degrees above the twenty which Royal Navy
ships were kept.  However, she'd often spent a summer afternoon outside,
with the shade of a Cytherian oak to protect from the glaring heat of a Sun
which was forty million kilometers closer than it was to the Earth.

	Takeshi considered this.  "Fair enough, I suppose.  A couple degrees
isn't so bad.  Believe me, after all the winters I spent out on Hinansho
freezing my butt off, I won't complain about a bit of warmth. Just . . . not
too much, okay?"

	"Okay."  Sakura smiled brightly, and Takeshi found it hard to
resist.  She wasn't all that much of an ice queen, now that he had the
chance to watch her in a relaxed setting--and, he suspected, especially
because she didn't have Hatsuyo Numata to contend with.  "Sorry.  I guess I
got carried away . . . ever since I arrived here, I haven't had a room to
myself.  I really need to be comfortable."

	Her roommate nodded.  "So do I.  The last couple months haven't been
the easiest."

	Sakura leaned forward slightly, rubbing her left index finger
against her knee.  "I heard a couple things about that.  Was it true that
you punched your father?"

	"Not exactly," said Takeshi with a wince.  Quite the opposite,
actually, but he wasn't about to relate that story to someone he'd only met
a few hours ago.  "If you mean what happened the night I agreed to, well, to
this . . . no.  Nobody punched him.  Though Sailor America came close."

	"Wow.  Nice to have a super senshi on your side."

	"Two.  Sailor Orion backed her up completely . . . if I was in her
place, I might have hesitated to get involved."

	Sakura blinked, a note of surprise creeping into her cultured voice. 
"Knowing what you do about your father?"

	A good point.  "Sakura-chan . . . he's still my father.  No matter
what he does, I'll still love him."

	"Why?"

	He looked away, toward the pale cream-colored wall.  His eyes ran
over the slightly textured surface without seeing it.  "He and Yuki are the
closest reminders I have of Mother."

	An uncomfortable silence settled upon the room.  "I know how that
feels," said Sakura finally, tentatively.

	"Do you?" Takeshi asked, more sharply than he intended.

	"Yes.  Especially after my father died."

	It was Takeshi's turn to squirm, as the silence fell once more. "I'm
sorry.  I didn't know."

	"Yes."  Sakura sighed, her previous cheer fled like ice in a
Cytherian summer.  "It was a long time ago.  I barely knew him, really."

	"My mother died in 3041, during the alien incursion.  You probably
heard a bit about it."

	The blonde nodded, silently pushing her chair closer to the future
Sailor Mercury.  "Yes.  When the senshi finally got a message here, the
entire system was in a near-panic.  Everyone was looking over their shoulder
for the invasion fleet."

	"Right.  Luckily, it never got to that.  But . . . but."  He sighed;
this had never been easy to get out to his therapist, or to anyone else for
that matter.  In general, it was a subject he tried to avoid discussing
altogether.  Silently, he berated himself for his weakness.  Serenity II
didn't want crybabies as senshi.  "But she died, anyway.  The aliens . . .
they managed to get someone into headquarters, just mowing down anyone and
everyone.  My mother was one of the ones who was killed."

	"Kami-sama.  I'm very sorry."

	Takeshi smiled slightly.  "It's okay.  I . . . it's been two years,
you'd think I could put it past me--"

	"Nonsense!"  Takeshi blinked and turned back to look at Sakura,
startled to see her standing with hands on her hips.  "You don't forget
about her, and you never should!  Kami knows I haven't forgotten my father!"

	"I thought you barely knew him."

	Sakura sighed and sat back down, a small puff of expelled air just
audible from Takeshi's position.  She crossed her legs in a smooth, elegant
move which would have been alluring to any heterosexual man, and folded her
hands in her lap.  "That's true.  Barely.  But what I do know I hold on to,
as best as I can."

	"How did he die?" asked Takeshi before he could consider the words. 
After all, enough people had asked him about his mother for him to know the
sting it carried.

	"Clinton's Disease.  Of course, that was before it had a name."

	The redhead blinked.  "Clinton's?"

	"Yes.  His was one of the first reported cases, actually."

	A lengthy pause.  "I, um . . . I didn't know he was an
archaeologist."

	"That's how he met my mother, actually.  They were at a conference
on excavation techniques.  She says they joked about it a lot; she dug
around on Venus, he dug around on the banks of the Potomac. Then . . . ."

	"Then he caught it."

	"Yes.  Damned stupid, too.  I . . . mother had wanted him to stay,
that last time.  I remember that night well.  Her birthday was in a week,
and she didn't want him on Earth, especially when it was going around the
other side of the Sun.  But he was on the verge of a breakthrough."

	"I remember reading about that in biology.  Wasn't there worry it
could be contagious?"

	Sakura nodded, her voice growing softer with each word she spoke. 
"Lots of worry.  After he fell ill--that was about a day after he came back
home--and the doctors couldn't determine what was wrong, we were put into
quarantine.  I . . . well, you can see how I'd remember that."

	Inwardly, she frowned at Takeshi's nod.  As if he could understand. 
As if he could ever understand.  He'd been lucky, to have his mother die in
an instant, quickly, cleanly, without the pain and suffering her father had
been forced to endure.  He hadn't had to watch his mother slowly succumb to
a debilitating illness which attacked the very synapses of her central
nervous system, acting as ruthlessly, effectively, and painfully as any
neurotoxin.

	Indeed, when the symptoms presented themselves, the first instinct
of the physicians had been to assume he had been exposed to some form of
nerve gas.  The disease presented itself in almost exactly the same way.  By
the time the virus which caused it was isolated, the entire team working on
the archaeological digs at Washington DC was dead, or in terminal comas.

	It took two years to discover the cause.  A strain of viral
meningitis, free to mutate and evolve beneath the shattered ruins of the
former capital of the United States, had turned into a completely new form,
judged sufficiently diverged to earn a name separate from the original
virus.  The epidemiologists assigned to study it chose to name it after the
last American president to rule from the Potomac swamps, partly because
naming it the Washington Nerve Disruption Virus would have frightened people
away from the area.  As it was, it became customary for workers at the site
to wear biohazard suits.

	In any case, Clinton's Disease remained without a cure.  When
Sakura's father died, there had barely even been a treatment.  The Clinton
virus remained immune to the entire battery of medicines thirty-first
century medicine had to offer.  No matter how hard they tried to eradicate
it from the afflicted, it returned, ever insidious and ever debilitating.

	Perhaps the worst of it was the pain.  In attacking the nerves, the
virus seemed to have an unerring ability to excite pain receptors throughout
the body.  Painkillers were ineffective, except at such high doses as to
knock the patient into a coma.  In Sakura's completely unasked for and
biased opinion, this was just fine by her.

	Takeshi watched Sakura's eyes darken.  He coughed lightly, seeking
to draw her attention from the melancholy thoughts he knew must be coursing
through her mind.  "Maybe we should talk about more cheerful things."

	"Maybe."

	"What should I expect here?  Who're the teachers, what do they teach
. . . how the hell are we supposed to be senshi material in just a few
days?"

	Sakura smiled slightly, her eyes brightening correspondingly. "The
only teacher I know for certain is Sailor Saturn.  There are tutors for
other subjects, but she's in charge of the really important stuff: magic,
court protocol, things like that.  Oh, what's your career interest?"

	Green eyes blinked at the apparent non sequitur.  "Career interest? 
I thought we were going to become senshi."

	"Hm, maybe I didn't phrase that correctly.  What's your favorite
subject in school?"

	"Um . . . calculus, I guess.  I don't really have one."

	"Well.  From what I've gathered, we're going to be allowed to study
in detail whatever we want.  I'm interested in microbiology, so I have a
pair of specialists in the field to help me along.  I guess finding a
mathematician would be harder to find, but--"

	Takeshi stared.  "Tutors?"

	"Takeshi-kun . . . we've have just a few days to learn the basics
all the other senshi had a year to figure out.  There's no time to
dilly-dally."

	Slowly, Takeshi shook his head.  "You cannot be serious."


Room C
Junior Officer Barracks Delta
Mare Crisium, Luna
22:50 Lunar Standard Time

	"You cannot be serious."

	"Honest to God," said Hatsuyo in English, immediately switching back
to Japanese.  "A full course of study, in addition to all the other magic
crap they're dumping on us." Hatsuyo blew a sigh through her periwinkle
bangs.  "I tell you, they don't want to make this easy for us."

	Achika's forehead creased in thought.  The two were in their room,
both dressed in sleeping clothes.  Coincidentally--or was it so
coincidental?  There had been plenty of time to observe their habits--both
had chosen large t-shirts and boxer shorts in which to sleep.  Achika's was
white, with the logo of Ai Furikato Senior High emblazoned in maroon on the
chest.  Hatsuyo's had a picture of the famous idol singer Akane Tagawa. 
Achika had raised an eyebrow at it, mostly because Akane was depicted as not
wearing very many clothes.  In fact, all she had on was a bikini bottom, and
she seemed to be holding up the top with one hand.  "Are you sure?"

	"Of course I'm sure.  Why else run us ragged with all this stuff?  I
mean, look at the schedule!"

	"Okay."  Achika pulled down the rack attached to the bottom of
Hatsuyo's bunk--Hatsuyo had insisted on having the top bed.  A similar rack
was on the other bunk beds, but Achika was first to notice its purpose; the
small, wire affair was just the right size to hold a handlink snugly.  In
the dim, low light of the darkened room, she tapped the key sequence to turn
on the backlighting of the handlink's screen, then pulled up the schedule of
activities they'd been given for the next day.

	It came as more than a small surprise.  Every second, from wakeup
call at 05:00, to the mandated bedtime at 00:00, was budgeted and scheduled. 
Physical workouts, studying, tutoring . . . the curriculum ran the gamut. 
"This is insane."

	"Told you.  I mean, it's not like this is some kind of academy where
they have to wash out the rejects.  We were hand-chosen!"

	Achika rolled over onto her stomach, averting her eyes from the
offensive schedule.  "I just don't see how we can be expected to do all that
without falling apart.  It's like boot camp or something.  Can we do
anything about it?"

	On the top bunk, Hatsuyo scratched her left calf.  The fabric of the
blanket was a bit itchy, similar to wool.  It was profoundly irritating, and
when she'd realized this she'd immediately added a comforting cotton sheet
to protect her from it while she slept. However, this didn't help her now,
since she was on top of the blanket and not under it.  "Not really.  Face
it, we aren't exactly in a bargaining position."

	"Aren't we?  We're going to be planet senshi, that must count for
something," said Achika with a hint of exasperation.

	Hatsuyo chuckled.  "What are you suggesting, that we strike or
something?  They'll just pick someone else."

	"This close to the investiture?  I don't think they have the time to
replace us." She blinked as a shadow crossed her face. Turning, she saw the
upside-down head of Hatsuyo, peeking down from the top bunk.  Her hair fell
around her features, which Achika noticed for the first time were actually
fairly appealing.  She decided they would be more appealing right-side-up. 
Then she noticed the sober, considering expression on Hatsuyo's face.

	"I don't know what kind of fantasy land you lived in out on
Hinansho.  Maybe you think you're indispensable, but I know *I* had to fight
to get here, and there are graveyards full of people who thought they were
indispensable.  No, they won't shoot us, but don't think for an instant
they'll hesitate to send any one of us packing if we don't measure up."

	Achika considered this a moment.  "That's a pretty grim way of
looking at it," she said finally.

	"No reason to sugarcoat reality, Achika-chan."  She smiled an
upside-down smile.  "You seem nice enough.  Too nice to self-delude yourself
into all sorts of trouble." Her head went back up like a curtain, and
Achika's face went back into full light.

	"Um . . . thank you," said Achika softly.

	"Don't read too much into that, though.  You got yourself a
boyfriend back home, I don't want him coming after me because I stole his
girl."

	Achika blinked.  "Um?"

	"What, did I say something wrong?  You're bisexual, right?"

	The green-haired girl blushed deeply.  "Not really.  Not at all,
actually."

	"Are you sure?  You were looking at Sakachi-san pretty closely
earlier . . . ."

	"Trust me, I'm not," Achika said with considerably less conviction
than she would have used twenty-four hours before.

	"Sure," said Hatsuyo, shamelessly drawing out the word.  "Well, just
so you know, I'm bi. Totally. Good thing, too."

	Achika blinked.  "Good?  Why?"

	"Well, look at what we have to choose from.  Party line is that
senshi only date other senshi: immortality and all that sh--crap. There's
only one male senshi to date.  And the poor guy's gay.  Dunno what the hell
he's gonna do."

	"Pro amor et justicia."

	"Huh?"

	"If he loves someone, he'll be with that person.  I don't think
being a senshi will enter into the equation."

	Achika could hear the bed above her shift slightly, the mattress's
cushioning gel redistributing the load of Hatsuyo's weight. She remembered
the vital statistics on Hatsuyo--they were of the same height, and nearly
the same mass.  Even their bust sizes were similar, though Hatsuyo had her
beat by a couple centimeters.  "So idealistic."

	"I don't like that."

	"Like what?  Being idealistic?"

	"No, your calling me idealistic."

	"Why not?  It's true, isn't it?"

	"No, it's not," said Achika hotly, rolling out of bed and hopping to
her feet.  The floor was cool under her bare toes.  "Being idealistic means
being fat, dumb, and happy, and I am not any of those!"

	Hatsuyo smirked, then caught the anger in Achika's red eyes.
Something in them told Hatsuyo that it would be best not to tangle with the
woman.  Not now.  "Okay, okay.  Lighten up a bit, I didn't mean anything by
it!"

	"Apologize," insisted Achika.

	"Fine, then, I apologize.  Happy?"

	No.  "Yes."  She turned, crossing her arms on her chest, her
shoulders heaving slightly.  "Sorry.  I just . . . it's been a long day.
Maybe I should get some sleep."


Room B
Junior Officer Barracks Delta
Mare Crisium, Luna
23:38 Lunar Standard Time

	"Maybe I should get some sleep," said Sharifa, suppressing a yawn in
the process.

	"Already?  But there's still so much to do!"  Chiharu fairly bounced
on her bed.

	Sharifa looked at the brunette in shock.  The next Sailor Mars was
playing on her bed, dressed in red pajamas with white trim, her feet
ensconced in white footies.  With her slight build and short stature, the
fourteen-year-old could easily pass for younger, and her personality--which
Sharifa very charitably referred to energetic--only served to help revise
her age estimate downward.  "It's rather late, Chiharu, and I've had to do a
great deal of traveling.  I'd really like to rest." She rubbed her forehead,
refusing to check the time which was displayed in red digits on the wall
clock above the door leading into the hallway. She knew it would be entirely
too late for her tastes.

	"Oh, come on.  One more game of chess?"  Chiharu bounced off the
bed, nearly catapulting into Sharifa's lap before making a last-second twist
and landing in her own red chair.  It, and she, rolled across the room to
bounce against the bathroom door.  "Five minutes a side, I promise!"

	The black girl stood and uncoiled, her outstretched fingers grazing
the ceiling.  "Really, Chiharu.  I'm very tired." Her avoidance of
honorifics was intentional; perhaps her only problem in learning Japanese
had been the subtle differences between them.  As a result, she'd resolved
to avoid them whenever possible, and here, where she was living with who
would become a close teammate, she felt confident enough to drop them
entirely.  "We'll play tomorrow, okay?"

	Chiharu pouted, her lower-lip curling.  Sharifa sighed and wondered,
not for the first time, what had possessed the Queen to think Chiharu was
mature enough to be a senshi.  "I guess you really are tired."

	Sharifa nodded, smiling slightly.  "Yes, I am.  Very much so, which
I think you should be too.  I don't think you've sat for more then fifteen
minutes at a time since we came back from dinner."

	"But there's so much to do!  How can anyone just sit still and do
nothing?"

	"Very easily," said Sharifa wryly.  She quickly changed into her
sleep clothes, which consisted of a simple black shift.  It had been a gift
from a grandmother, and she considered it a good-luck charm of sorts.  "When
you become older, you'll realize the importance of rest."

	Chiharu blinked at her.  "Older?  You're only seventeen!"

	"True.  And you'll also find out that seventeen is much further from
fourteen than twenty is from seventeen."

	"I realize that.  I'm not just a kid, y'know."

	The sudden intensity--and coolness--of Chiharu's voice brought
Sharifa up short, in the middle of applying a brush to her long black hair. 
"No, you're not."

	The brunette slouched glumly, looking downcast at her footies. "I'm
sorry if I annoyed you.  I really am.  It's just that I get excited, and
well, nobody ever takes me seriously."

	Sharifa shrugged slightly, not sure she was ready to handle an
intense emotional revelation like this when her mind was addled with the
weariness of two days of travel.  "You don't really act like you *want* to
be taken seriously."

	Chiharu smiled.  "Give me some credit, Sharifa-chan.  Who would ever
take a fourteen year old genius seriously?  I'm smarter than most people
four or five years older than me, the last thing they need is someone who
behaves like they're fifty."

	"You mean that perky attitude is just an act?"

	"Of course not!"  She stuck her tongue out at Sharifa, who had
little choice but to chuckle in return.  "I'm always sincere, and I always
try to act my age.  And at fourteen, girls don't usually discuss Katajisto
physics or quantum phenomena or modern economic theory." She shrugged. 
"Trust me, it freaks people out a lot less to act like this than like, oh, a
college professor."

	Sharifa pursed her lips.  "How very strange.  Back home, I never had
to hide my intellect."

	Chiharu giggled.  "Of course not.  You're older; it's okay for a
seventeen year old to be a brainiac.  I bet you got asked to show off a
lot."

	"Come to think of it . . . yes, there were a few times I was called
upon to, ah . . . demonstrate." Chiharu nodded so emphatically Sharifa
worried her head might fly off.  "It made my parents very proud."

	"Which is all very well and good.  But my parents took the opposite
approach." She sighed, spinning her chair lazily.  "They were much happier
about my breaking running records than writing theses."

	"I'm sorry."

	Chiharu shrugged philosophically.  "Nothing that can be done about
it now.  Though the look on their faces when they found out I'd been
selected . . . I wouldn't trade that for anything."

	With a smile, Sharifa stood and gave the younger girl a short,
gentle hug.  "Neither would I, Chiharu.  And I certainly wouldn't trade it
for the friends I've made here."

	"Friends?"  Chiharu blinked, though a grin was on her face. "We only
met this morning."

	Sharifa nodded and rolled onto the lower bunk. Chiharu had rather
vigorously insisted on taking the top.  "True. But we'll all be working
together for a long time.  Centuries, quite probably; given that, we might
as well get along as best we can . . . and that means being friends.  So
far, the other senshi seem like people I can be friends with easily."

	The brunette's eyes opened wide, even as she rolled the chair back
to her desk and jumped--vaulted, actually--into the top bunk, her hair
whipping against the ceiling.  "You can tell that already?"

	"I like to think I'm a good judge of character.  Remember, we
weren't brought together by accident.  The Queen and Miss Tomoe chose us
very carefully, and certainly wouldn't do it just for us to fail."

	Chiharu slid in beneath the covers, wriggling, tossing, and turning
for nearly a full minute to find a comfortable position.  Upon finding one,
she stared at the featureless ceiling, at complete rest of the first time
that day.  "You put a lot of faith in them," she said softly.

	Sharifa stretched out on the bed.  She noted that it was just long
enough for her frame, with several centimeters to spare.  Almost certainly a
conscious decision.  "Well, considering the alternative is to believe that
we've been chosen and will be trained by a bunch of incompetents, I think
I'll just go with optimism and assume they know what they're doing.

	"Lights."


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium, Luna
12 August 3043
00:09 Lunar Standard Time

	The last monitor went black for a moment, before the bright and dark
green patterns of a low-light filter appeared on the screen.  Dimly
outlined, the figure of Chiharu rolled over twice before finally settling
into slow, steady breathing.  Eileen was first to speak.

	"You're going to keep this close an eye on them for the whole time?"
she asked, aghast.

	"No, of course not," reassured Hotaru.  Well, it was a half-truth,
at least.  "We don't have the time, and it would violate their privacy."

	"I'd say it's a bit late for that," retorted Eileen, barely keeping
her tone within the accepted bounds for a junior senshi speaking to a
planet.  "Wiring their rooms?  That's damned low, ma'am.  *Damn* low."

	Hotaru opened her mouth to speak, but stopped in an instant when
Serenity's hand snapped up.  "Let her speak," she said quietly, with the
authority of a queen.

	"Thanks."  Taking a slow, deep breath, Eileen composed herself.
Ranting did no-one any good.  "Okay.  You've got some important assets here,
I understand that.  You want to make sure they do well. Fine. But for God's
sake, listening in on their private conversations isn't the way!  You didn't
do this back at the old School, did you?" The Queen and her fiancee remained
silent.  "Oh bloody hell, you *did*!"

	"Eileen."  Jen placed a firm hand on Eileen's shoulder, blinking in
surprise at how tense and hard the muscles there were. "They're senshi. 
There are things we give up, along with what we get."

	"No.  Not this.  I'm sorry, but I can't."

	Jen sighed.  "This isn't a democracy.  We . . . we can advise, but
we can't vote, can't demand.  This is how Usagi-chan wants it done, period."
She turned watering eyes to the Queen for confirmation. Serenity nodded in
approval, her face carefully neutral.

	"You have to understand," Hotaru said calmly--much more calmly than
she felt--, "how important it is for them to work together as smoothly as
possible.  The friction between the first set of planet senshi nearly killed
us all more than once, and we don't want that happening again."

	"Wonderful," blurted Eileen.  "So you're going to spy on them to
make sure they don't have the disagreements any other group of six teenagers
in the universe would have when jammed into one place to work and live
together?"

	Hotaru sighed.  There really wasn't any explaining it to someone who
hadn't been there.  Eileen hadn't seen the consequences of the inner-outer
divide, of Usagi and Rei's bickering, of the distrust and fear a bunch of
teenage girls could demonstrate under the more extraordinary circumstances. 
Silly girl probably thought her tiffs with Mars were the real thing.  If
only she knew.

	Glancing between Hotaru and Eileen, Serenity decided to jump in.
"Hotaru-chan isn't saying the six have to get along perfectly. Eileen-chan
isn't saying you shouldn't supervise them at all.  But I think we can all
agree that we've got to avoid what personality conflicts we can, and let
them develop the way they want as much as possible." She gave them both
another level look.  "Understood?"

	"She's right," Jen said, smoothing a stray lock of hair back from
her spectacles.  "This is basic training, of sorts, and what we do here will
have consequences for centuries.  We have to be perfect."

	Eileen and Hotaru nodded in unison.

	The tension defused, Serenity relaxed and sat back in her seat. "I'd
appreciate it if either or both of you could stop by here occasionally while
on the Moon, just to keep an eye on what they're up to.  Ziggy can monitor,
and she does it rather well, but it helps to have another set of eyes.  To
be specific, Jen-chan, your experience as a teacher will be essential, as
will Eileen-chan's experience dealing with Terrans."

	"And when we leave?" Eileen asked casually.

	"There are other non-Japanese senshi.  It's just taken this long to
pull them back to home system, especially considering how overstretched we
are already.  You know about the wedding invitations."

	Jen nodded, along with Eileen.  All the sailor senshi had been
invited to the wedding, but due to the commitments of the Royal Star Navy,
all but a handful had been forced to decline.  Even then, a few ships close
to Sol were coming to Luna just long enough for their commanders to
participate.  "Speaking of which, I think we have our vows prepared for the
ceremony."

	"Really?  I thought you were going to go with the traditional set."

	"We were, but then we found something a bit better."  Adjusting her
glasses, Jen ran slightly sweaty palms down the sides of her cool dress. 
"One of the archaeological digs over at Mare Serenitatis uncovered a few old
inscriptions.  Among them is what looks like a marriage record, and we
decided to take it."

	Hotaru, who had blinked and frowned while Jen spoke, positively
scowled now.  "All finds at the digs are supposed to go through me or Sailor
Pluto first.  How did you find out about them?"

	Catching a planet senshi out with a detail she hadn't thought public
was always a thrill.  "I have a friend working there; she was working on her
anthropology doctorate at the same time I was doing my history degree, we
were rather close." Jen smiled, recalling dinners with Eileen and Hanae
Kajiwara, when the two graduate students shared horror stories of deadlines
and snobbish post-grads.  A simpler time, before the war, before the pain of
exile.  It took an almost physical effort to tear herself away from the
memories.  "When she found the inscription, she figured I would be
interested in it."

	"I see," said Hotaru simply.  It really wasn't enough to raise a
stink over, once she considered the relative insignificance.  "Well, it's
getting a bit late, and I'm sure you'll want to get some sleep after all the
traveling and excitement?"

	Eileen nodded gratefully.  "I'd kill for a nap right now, especially
with what's on the slate for tomorrow."

	"Me too," echoed Jen.  "I'll just want to send a message back
home . . . well, to Hinansho."  She smiled slightly.  "There's a whole
planet waiting for me."

	"Well, you are a war hero, of sorts."  A mirthful grin came across
Serenity's face.  "I know we don't always behave as if we remember what
you've done for my mother and myself, especially during 3035.  But we do,
believe me, and it's deeply appreciated.  We wouldn't have entrusted the
selection of Mercury and Uranus to you otherwise."

	Jen blinked back tears at the sudden compliment.  Coming out of the
blue as it had, she'd no time to pull up the usual barriers of modesty and
humility she so carefully crafted to downplay her role in ending the war of
3035.  After all, she reminded herself bitterly, she hadn't ended it nearly
soon enough to avert the terrible losses sustained by the senshi and Royal
Army, let alone the civilian deaths from the Titan weapon which followed.

	And yet . . . and yet, she was still proud of herself, and Eileen. 
Breaking the blockade, in combination with the quantum leap to super status
the senshi began to make in those last few days, had been enough to turn the
tide of war and led to the eventual Allied defeat. For her Queen to recall
that feat here, now, in this way . . . .  "Thank you.  Thank you very much. 
We try our best."

	Eileen nodded emphatically, similarly moved.  "Nothing any other of
us senshi wouldn't have done, if we were called upon."

	"Nonetheless, it was you two, and don't think the Kingdom forgets. 
It doesn't, and I don't." A royal firmness came into her words at the last,
and Usagi smiled to take away a bit of the sting. "Now, run along to your
rooms.  I hope you'll find them comfortable; you probably won't find
anything better in the Solar system."

	"I can show you the way, if need be," added Hotaru softly.

	Eileen waved a hand airily.  "No thanks.  We still know our way
around here."

	Jen nodded.  "Good night, Usagi-chan, Hotaru-chan."

	"Good night.  Sleep well."


Senshi Training and Fitness Facility
Mare Crisium, Luna
12 August 3043
06:07 Lunar Standard Time

	"Sleep well?"

	The voice came as a surprise, mostly for what Takeshi didn't hear in
it: breathlessness, fatigue, or surprise, all three of which he would have
fully expected and accepted at this time and place.

	Takeshi let his eyes wander over the form before him.  Unthinkably
long legs the color of slightly creamy coffee, with feet hidden beneath
white socks and white sneakers.  She was, he reminded himself, nearly two
meters tall, and a good part of that height was in her legs.  They were
almost entirely exposed; she wore dark green shorts of the type common to
the uniforms he'd seen girls wear in physical education classes all his
life.  Her midriff was bare, with her chest covered by a simple white
jersey.  The ensemble was completed by matching green sweatbands at her
wrists, another encircling her head, and a final scrunchie tying back her
hair.

	He blinked.  From an aesthetic point of view, he had to admit
Sharifa did a very good job of looking undeniably attractive in a more
mature, womanly way than most other girls her age he knew.  This thought
might have surprised the other senshi, but as he'd said before, being gay
didn't make one completely ignorant of what made a woman attractive.  If
anything, he could be more objective; after all, trying to have sex with her
would never enter his mind.  "Yes, I did.  Kind of surprising, actually, I
figured I'd be too keyed up."

	They were on the full-sized indoor track which was perhaps the
signature feature of the complex.  When the Mare Crisium city--for a city
was what it was, more or less--was built, there had been a number of
exercise facilities planned.  However, upon review it had been discovered
that there were no separate facilities for senshi use.  To some it might
have seemed elitist to demand the senshi have their own weight room, but
this objection was easily swept aside.  After all, who wanted to share a
track or swimming pool with a superhuman, unaging, magical girl?

	Thus, the Senshi Training and Fitness Facility, known colloquially
as the Senshi Gym.  It lacked no amenity, from courts for tennis,
basketball, racquetball, and volleyball, to an Olympic-sized swimming pool,
several hot tubs, weight rooms with all manner of weightlifting equipment, a
rather modest obstacle course, and of course the four hundred meter track. 
Ziggy had told him about it when he'd asked the AI about places to exercise,
and had been delighted to find out about it.  He'd hastened to pull on his
running shoes, blue shorts, and t-shirt, and run to the elevator, which took
him down six floors to the Gym.

	On arrival, he'd found he wasn't alone.  Quite the contrary--several
other senshi, faces he only dimly remembered from the intense orientation
sessions on the journey from Hinansho, were making circuits of the track, or
were visible in the windows which ringed the track, looking down on it from
above.  They could be seen lifting weights, jogging on treadmills, and in
one case kissing.  That had induced a blush in the teenage boy.

	That, in turn, had led to a deeper blush, as he came to the
realization he was the only male in the Gym.  For all he knew, he was the
only male ever to enter the Gym--which wasn't quite true, because aside from
the usual cleaning crews, Endymion himself had made use of the equipment
from time to time.

	He'd sighed, then steeled his resolve.  He knew, going in, that he'd
be doing a lot of things only women had done before.  This seemed as good a
place as any to get on with the job of breaking the gender barrier.  To the
credit of the other senshi, they neither scorned nor ignored him; he got
quite a few smiles and waves from those in the windows, and those on the
track said hello as they passed.

	One in particular had grabbed his attention, and he ran with her. 
She was Sharifa Mwakabuta.

	"Good," said Sharifa, bending over with hands on her knees. Other
than the slight sheen of sweat on her body, there were no signs to show
she'd just run five kilometers.  *Run*, not jogged or walked.  "I had a bit
of trouble, personally; it always takes me awhile to get used to the place
I'll rest."

	"Oh, too bad.  Hope it won't take too long." Takeshi gingerly walked
to a water fountain off a bit from the track, protruding from the light
wall.  On closer inspection, he found what he'd thought was simply random
patterning was actually a finely detailed series of drawings depicting all
the senshi.  The fountain was directly beneath the portrait of Sailor
Polaris; below the picture, in the same dark lettering as the lines of the
drawing itself, was a simple inscription:

                               Sailor Polaris.  
                    Born 2985.  Senshi 3003.  Died 3035.

	"I don't think it will.  I'm just slow to adapt to new surroundings,
that's all."

	Takeshi drank thirstily.  There was a slight added taste to the
water, one he couldn't place.  "Luna is a pretty big change from Kenya,
isn't it?"

	"Oh, definitely.  I love it."

	He blinked, turned, left the water running a bit longer than
necessary.  Some of it splashed onto his arm.  "You do?"

	"Of course.  I enjoy challenges."  Sharifa walked closer, taking her
turn at the water fountain before sitting on a bright yellow rubber bench. 
It was refreshingly cool against her skin.  "Like running.  It's always good
to push myself, see how much faster and further I can go than the day
before." She smiled wryly, stretching out her legs to keep them from
cramping.  "Of course, I doubt I can compare with Chiharu."

	"Oh?  Why not?" asked Takeshi, curiosity creeping into his voice. 
So far, his impression of Sharifa was of someone who seemed quite capable of
doing anything she set her mind to, by sheer willpower, talent, and ability.

	"Because she runs marathons for fun.  She's already champion of her
age group on Mars.  Of course, the gravity there is a touch lower than on
Earth or Venus, but it's still quite respectable."

	Takeshi stared, then sat on the bench next to her, taking little
notice now of the senshi who ran past them.  "*Chiharu* is a champion
runner?"

	"Wasn't it in her personnel jacket?"

	"I, um . . . to be honest, I don't remember.  We had to learn so
much on the trip here, some of it's slipped through the cracks."

	Sharifa smiled sympathetically.  "I went through the same thing.  I
really wonder if senshi have eidetic memories, because they certainly seem
to think everyone else does.  Bloody annoying, it is."

	Takeshi chuckled, rubbing his calves.  "Very.  Hey, do you do this
every day?"

	"What, running?  I try to.  Yourself?"

	"Yep.  It helps me focus my thoughts for the day, and it's a great
way to shake the sleep cobwebs out of my head.  Breaking a sweat before
breakfast doesn't hurt either." He nodded to himself in thought. "If you
don't mind . . . well, back home I tended to run alone, but if it's okay
with you, I'd like to run with you in the mornings."

	"I think I'd like that.  In fact, I'm sure it would.  Like I said
yesterday, we have plenty of reason to stay together." Both looked around
the Gym, seeing the uniformly white, uniformly female bodies at work around
the cavernous chamber.

	"Right.  What do you think of Sakura-chan, by the way?"

	"She's very bright and intelligent, of course."  Sharifa's tone was
cheerful, authoritative, and yet Takeshi thought he detected a hint of
dismay within.  He decided it was just a mistake.  "I think her standards
for others are perhaps a bit unreasonably high."

	"Oh?"

	"Oh.  That's only an initial impression, though; of course you've
been closer to her and have a better opportunity to form an opinion of her
than I." She stood, ending the conversation without ever really having to
say so, or even look at him.  "They're probably preparing breakfast for us
now.  If there's anything in particular you want, you should probably tell
Ziggy now; he'll relay it to the cooks."

	Takeshi blinked, standing and stretching, smiling as his muscles
protested.  It had been too long since he'd felt the familiar burn in his
legs.  HMS Vulcan, small as she was, lacked anything approaching proper
fitness equipment; all she had to offer was a tiny weight room squeezed into
an area between two air recyclers, and a set of three treadmills for which
the line was always long.  "Cooks?"

	Sharifa smiled, her long-legged stride taking her quickly to the
door.  Takeshi found himself walking a bit faster than usual to keep up. 
"Yes, cooks.  We're going to be planet senshi, we get all the amenities. 
That includes having other people cook our meals, and Chiharu informed me
that they take requests.  What do you like?"

	"Hm."  An innocent question, yet complex at the same time.  At home
he'd generally cooked what his father and sister would like--that is, when
his sister didn't insist on taking over food preparation herself. 
"Blueberry pancakes.  Scrambled eggs with cheese . . . some rice, sausage,
and fresh squeezed orange juice." He looked wistfully at Sharifa.  "Do they
have fresh squeezed here?" Hinansho's climate was too cold even for
genetically modified orange trees, and importing it from off-world made
orange juice an expensive proposition.  To have it freshly squeezed, with
the pulpy bits left in the drink, was almost unheard of.

	"I think so," said Sharifa, holding the door open for him as they
left.  "At least I don't see why they wouldn't." She glanced up at the
ceiling--there was no rational reason to look at the ceiling when addressing
an AI, but she'd quickly picked up that it was customary--and raised her
voice slightly.  "Ziggy, is there orange juice available?"

	"Of course," answered the computer, localizing her voice to the
slice of hallway through which they walked.  "No pulp, little pulp, extra
pulpy, and just plain pulp if you want."

	Takeshi blinked.  "Um, just a bit is okay."

	"Anything else?"  For an instant, Takeshi could have sworn Ziggy had
snapped a piece of gum in her mouth, but dismissed this. 

	"Some blueberry pancakes.  With butter, and maple syrup.  Oh, and
eggs.  Scrambled.  Erm, sausage, rice, and I think that's all."

	Ziggy processed this, cross-referenced it with the download she'd
gotten three days before from Antares on his personality, and came up with
her best guess of the specifics.  The cooks liked to know as much as
possible; being the cooks to the planet senshi was a prestigious posting,
and they endeavored to retain it.  "Should be ready in a few minutes."

	"Thanks."  Takeshi glanced at Sharifa as they entered the elevator
and it silently ascended.  "Aren't you going to tell her what you want?"

	"I did.  Earlier, actually, and as it turns out the staff isn't
quite sure how to make what I want.  So I'm having something a bit more
traditional instead." She sniffed.  "I think this is my favorite part of a
morning workout, here."

	"Being in an elevator?"

	"Looking forward to a shower."  She smiled as the silver doors
swooshed open, revealing the empty hallway down which were their temporary
quarters.  "I'll see you in a few," she said.  The room she shared with
Chiharu was first as they left the elevator, and she smiled again at him as
she palmed open the door.  "Remember: just a couple weeks until we
transform."

	Takeshi smiled back involuntarily.  Sharifa had a surprisingly
infectious personality, one which radiated competence.  She was almost an
automatic choice to be the leader of their group, assuming they needed one. 
In principle, he could see the case for Sailor Saturn being de facto leader,
but what he'd seen so far made him suspect much of their organization would
be left to themselves.

	He palmed his door open and walked in.  Sakura was still curled up
in bed, one bare foot sticking out from her blanket.  With a sigh, he peeled
off his sweaty garments, letting them plop into the blue clothes hamper
appointed for his use.  He glanced at the bathroom door, still closed.  One
shower, six people.  Insane.  Briefly he pictured the situation once they
were in the heart of their training, everyone waking up at the same time,
having to prepare for the day.

	A schedule, he thought.  Bathroom time would have to be parceled
out, obviously.  Something they should have thought of the night before. 
He'd already taken laid out his clothes for the day and was about to yank
down his briefs when he figured it out.

	Sakura sat up at Takeshi's yelp of surprise.  "What's wrong?" she
asked, looking at him blearily through blonde bangs.

	He looked up at her, feeling self-conscious for a moment.  This he
forced down, though; after all, she had been the one to quite literally
strip naked in front of him the night before, while they were getting ready
for bed.  Takeshi had heard of the Cytherians' relaxed, almost bored outlook
on nudity, but to see an example of it was surprising.

	Despite centuries of relaxation, social views on nudity still meant
the least most people could go outside with was shorts and a shirt.  On
particularly warm Martian days, one might dispense with the top, but not
often.  One never discarded it on Hinansho, where it was simply too cold
even in summer.

	Venus was an entirely different story.  It was much closer to the
Sun, and in addition to that had all the problems attendant with an
overactive carbon cycle.  True, the terraformation process had managed to
scrub out much of the carbon dioxide which lent itself to the planet's
runaway greenhouse effect, but those who were intent on making the world fit
for habitation had to reduce heat retention even more.  After decades of
work, they were forced to admit--albeit with the greatest reluctance--that
there was nothing more to be done, at least for now.  In time, once
vegetation had had a chance to fill every niche in Venus's new ecosystem,
they would take over the job of absorbing carbon dioxide.

	Until then, though, Venus was quite warm.  Even hot, sometimes. As a
result, skimpy clothing became the rule rather than the exception, to the
point that complete nudity became commonplace.  After a couple centuries of
acculturation, the end result was the lack of any real nudity taboo.  While
uniforms for military personnel and schoolchildren were of course mandatory,
swimsuits at beaches and pools were unheard of, and casual nudity in the
home was virtually expected.

	All this explained why Takeshi could stand in the center of his room
with Sakura, wearing only a pair of white, cotton briefs, and be sure she
wouldn't spend too much time looking him over.  It was, after all, nothing
she hadn't seen before.

	"Nothing," he said.  "I just figured something out that's been
bothering me awhile."

	"Nothing important?" asked Sakura.  She sat up and swung her legs
around to dangle over the edge of the top bunk.  Her chest was quite bare.

	"Just a thought.  I might explain it later.  Showered yet?" She
shook her head.  "Well, you can go ahead first, if Sharifa-chan hasn't gone
in yet."

	"Hm."  The blonde hopped down from the bed, her feet making the
barest thump as they touched the ground.  Making no move to cover herself,
she opened the bathroom door to check on its status.  "No, there's no-one. 
Excuse me." She strolled into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

	Sakura's shower was without incident.  To her, showering was a time
to relax, to throw caution to the wind and not worry about what others might
see.  To a girl for whom almost everything came back to keeping up
appearances, bathing was thus notable for having no spectators, no audience. 
Sometimes she sang, but today she was silent, her blonde hair plastering to
her flawless skin, letting the stream of water wash away the thoughts of the
previous day.

	When she returned to her room, wrapped in an extra large, orange
terry towel, she found Takeshi poking at a handlink.  "What are you doing?"
she asked casually.

	He shrugged.  "Working on a letter to my sister.  Should have done
it before, but I've been too busy."

	"There's a terminal right there, you know," said Sakura, pointing to
the desk computer.  She tossed her towel in the corner hamper, going to her
dresser and plucking out plain white panties and a simple bra.

	Takeshi blinked, both at his words and her apparel.  It wasn't quite
a simple bra after all--the majority of it was lace, and its straps were
made from a gauzy material which was almost impossible to see in the dim
lights.  A surprising choice from a Cytherian; they weren't known for
dressing sexily, except for the sexiness inherent in not wearing anything at
all.  Finally, he found his tongue.  "I'm kind of used to the handlink,
actually."

	"Are you sure?"  Sakura looked at him curiously, fastening the front
clasp of her bra.  "The keyboard on that is pretty small."

	"Well, yes.  But . . . ."

	"But?"

	He smothered a sigh.  Saying he'd been too dumb to notice the
terminal was unacceptable.  "Nothing.  Sure, I guess I'll use the term." A
few deftly pressed buttons transferred the draft of his letter to the
computer, where he sat and flexed his fingers over the keyboard.

	"Takeshi-kun?"

	"Yes?" he asked, a bit more sharply than he intended.  Sakura didn't
seem to take notice of this.

	"Weren't you going to take a shower?"

	"After this.  I bet one of the others is going to want to use it,
anyway." The redhead licked his lips, trying to think of how to word the
next sentence to his sister.  His intent was to strike a balance between
happiness at finally being on the Moon, and sorrow at being light years from
Yuki.  Sighing, he decided to go with his usual straightforwardness.

	"Okay.  Just don't wait too long, or else you'll be on your own for
breakfast." She wrinkled her nose.  "I learned that the hard way my first
morning here.  Ended up eating oatmeal.  *Oatmeal*." Takeshi blinked at her,
wondering what was so bad about oatmeal.  The blonde rolled her eyes and sat
down in the other chair, unrolling a pair of white crew socks and yanking
them up over her feet.  "Never mind. Suffice to say you don't want to be
late for breakfast.  Or any meal, for that matter."

	Takeshi, at a loss for what sort of response was expected or
required in this case, simply nodded slowly.  "Right, I'll be sure to get
there on time.  Thanks."

	Sakura shook her head, putting on the remainder of her clothes in
silence.  Boys.


Main Dining Room
Inner Sanctum of the Planet Senshi and Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
07:00 Lunar Standard Time

	The six: Takeshi, Sakura, Chiharu, Sharifa, Achika, and Hatsuyo,
filed through the oak double-doors which led to the dining room, not at all
expecting what they saw.  Oh, they'd expected to see tables, but not a long
formal dining room table lined with high-backed chairs on either side and
set with gorgeous silver place settings on a spotless white tablecloth.  Nor
did they expect the elegant crystal chandeliers above, or the sumptuous
carpet below, which was a light grey, with a complex pattern composed, upon
closer inspection, of the symbols for the planet senshi.

	Above all, they certainly didn't expect the six planet senshi they
were going to replace sitting along one side of the table.

	Ami sat at the first seat at the table.  Going down the line were
Minako, Rei, Makoto, Haruka, and Michiru.  Takeshi, being first in the line
which filed into the dining room, was immediately at a loss for what to do. 
By custom, he should continue walking along the table and take a seat at the
far end of the table, opposite Michiru.  Takeshi couldn't shake the nagging
suspicion, however, that this, too, was a test, and which seat he chose
would determine passing or failing.

	He sighed.  He'd had his fill of tests.  There was always the option
to skip a test, of course, but he--and the others--knew that turning it down
now was tantamount to quitting.

	Takeshi proceeded to the end of the table, paused a moment, then
walked back to the head of the table to sit across from Ami.

	The blue-haired woman smiled slightly.  "Good morning, Ashida-san."

	"Good morning, Mizuno-san," he managed.  Down the table, the other
senshi were making their own acquaintances.

	Ami sipped from the crystal glass of orange juice set at the table. 
"I apologize for not being around to greet you properly, yesterday.  Helping
run the Moon Kingdom is very hard, non-stop work, as you'll learn soon
enough.  But we decided it would be pretty rude to let more than a day go by
without meeting you in person."

	"Um, right."  Takeshi cleared his throat, reaching for the glass of
water at his table setting.  A white-uniformed arm reached past him to place
a tall, sweating glass of orange juice, mouth-watering yellow with tiny
white bubbles rimming the edge of the liquid's surface. Tiny motes of white,
elongated and clearly not bubbles, also clung to the edge.  Pulp.  "Nice
service here. Thank you," he added to the steward, who nodded and moved to
the next person.

	"The best."  Ami smiled slightly, her soft voice barely audible to
Takeshi over the other conversations taking place along the table. "I hope
you haven't had any problems adjusting to the Moon."

	Takeshi swallowed his juice, pondering a polite response.  "It's too
early to tell," he said noncommittally, his eyes glancing over the room. 
Nothing--if it weren't for the lack of windows, he could have thought
himself to be in any restaurant in Nagano-2.

	Windows.

	"Although," he added slowly, "it is rather odd, never to be able to
look outside.  Do none of the rooms have windows?"

	Ami's blue eyes seemed to shimmer with interest.  "A few.  Most
people here have video screens designed to look like windows, which gives you
the advantage of being able to put your room anywhere."

	"I'd heard a bit about those, but I never thought about it."

	"Very true.  You never had to."

	Takeshi smiled wryly.  "You have an answer for everything, don't
you?"

	To his surprise, Ami considered this at length.  "No, I don't.
I know it must be intimidating to speak to someone who's over a thousand
years old.  It seems like we know everything, and it's very true that we
*do* know a lot more than most people.  But we're not omniscient."  Her
normally soft voice grew still softer, and Takeshi was forced to lean across
the table to hear.  His uniform came dangerously close to knocking over the
glass of orange juice before him.  "I think that's something you tend to
forget.  You live so long, experience so much, that after awhile everything
becomes deja vu.  You start to think you've seen it all, when in fact you've
simply become dangerously used to the universe as you're accustomed to
seeing it."

	Slowly, her blue eyes refocused their attention from whatever deep
revelation they had previously perceived.  "Beware the trap of immortality,
Takeshi-kun.  Never, ever believe that you've seen it all. You've only seen
the barest fraction of what the universe has to offer, and a thousand years,
or ten thousand, or ten million, won't put a dent in that.  We made the
mistake of thinking we were gods, and we were sadly mistaken.  It nearly
cost us everything." The blue-haired woman sighed.  "Sorry for the speech,
but that's been on my mind awhile. Ever since . . . we resigned."

	Takeshi was at a loss for what to say.  Anything which came to mind
struck him as woefully inadequate.  Ami smiled, recognizing his predicament. 
"Don't worry.  You'll have the one advantage none of us had: a thousand
years of experience at your disposal, without having to live all that time
gaining it.  We," and here she gestured slightly to indicate the other
planet senshi sitting at her side of the table, "will do our best to pass on
our knowledge.  Hopefully, it will make you better senshi than we are, or
ever were."

	"Oh, I don't know about that," cut in a third voice.  Takeshi
glanced to Ami's left to see Minako Aino had taken an interest in the
conversation.  "I think nobody could do better than we did, those first few
years.  Remember, Ami-chan?  The youma, the droids, the cardians? That was
*living*."

	Across from Minako, next to Takeshi, Sakura turned to regard Ami as
well.  Takeshi noted, not for the first time, how closely the two resembled
each other.  Their eyes differed, of course; Minako's were a soft, watery
blue, while Sakura's were a harder, stormier grey, and their hairstyles were
opposite: Minako's tresses were loose down her back and shoulder, while
Sakura's were in a long French braid.  Both their hair was blonde, though.

	For reasons no-one had been able to explain adequately, roughly
three-quarters of the population of Venus had naturally blonde hair. Many
theories had been offered, ranging from the increased strength of sunlight
closer to Sol, to the remnant of some large-scale magical effect from Silver
Millennium times.  Regardless of the reasons, it remained true that Venus
was a very blonde planet, which probably had much to do with its
attractiveness as a vacation spot, especially when combined with the
tendency for Cytherians not to wear bathing suits at the beach.

	Takeshi, for his part, felt this also explained another stereotype
of Cytherians: their arrogance.  He supposed a great deal of it was due to
their popularity among Terrans with money to burn, and he was right.  What
he didn't know--because he'd never been there, and had not yet spoken to
Sakura on the topic--was the primary reason for their arrogance, and it
would have surprised him to find out it was their terraformation.

	Mars, at a distance of 228 thousand kilometers from the Sun, with an
atmosphere much more tenuous than Earth's, had been a relatively simple
planet to terraform.  There were two prongs, so to speak, of the attack: add
water to the parched surface, by means of throwing comets, and thicken the
atmosphere with oxygen, nitrogen, and especially carbon dioxide in order to
create a greenhouse effect which could raise the planet's temperature.  All
that remained was to do it, and this was done relatively quickly.

	On the other hand, Venus had the opposite problem.  It had a
greenhouse effect, and it had run away to create surface temperatures over
460 degrees centigrade.  Instead of a thin, wispy atmosphere, Venus's was a
thick, crushing ninety times that of Earth, equivalent to that hundreds of
meters beneath Earth's oceans.  The challenge there was to absorb all that
carbon dioxide, thin out the atmosphere, and add water to a surface which
only saw clouds of sulfuric acid.

	There were several solutions implemented.  Gigantic mirrors were
unfurled in orbit, reflecting away the harsh light of the primary. Special
algae and bacteria were genetically engineered, bred to consume carbon
dioxide and produce water as a waste product.  Of course, at 460
degrees--above the melting point of lead--the water vaporized instantly. But
it was, as they say, a start, and Crystal Tokyo was at work in the air as
well, depositing tons of other bacteria designed to consume sulphuric acid. 
Many historians later remarked that the terraformation of Venus owed its
thanks more to the geneticists than any other group.

	It was for this reason that Cytherians felt themselves superior. 
They'd had to do more to get their planet habitable, unlike the Martians
who'd simply used a brute-force method.  Having gone through more to
colonize, they were logically the superior group.

	Takeshi took another long, searching look at the two Cytherians at
the table.  Minako had the same schooled, inscrutable look he'd noticed in
all the other senshi.  Sakura . . . happy, clearly excited to be here, but
also very unmistakably proud to be there, sitting across from the senshi she
would soon replace.

	"It was living we nearly died from," said Ami, pulling Takeshi from
his reverie.  "Remember, it was mostly--" She stopped abruptly, then glanced
apologetically at the two teenagers.  "But the point of this breakfast isn't
to go over our old disputes and arguments.  I'm sure you must have some
questions."

	"Yes, actually.  When did you know it was time to quit?"

	Ami's remark was made during a lull in the other conversations, and
thus her soft voice carried down the entire table to catch the attention of
Hatsuyo at the far end.  "When your continued duty is more a burden to the
Kingdom than a boon, then it's time to leave."

	Two places away from Ami, the raven-haired Rei barely kept her lips
from curling into a scowl.  "Of course, some didn't quite agree with the
decision," she said.  Ignoring the warning looks at each side from Minako
and Makoto, she continued, "Sometimes you end up doing what you feel in your
heart is wrong, but what those around you decide is best anyway."

	A slight frown crossed Ami's face, mirrored by Michiru's, but Haruka
looked positively encouraging as Rei continued.  "Ami-chan has pointed out
that you must be careful to avoid thinking you'll live forever and do
everything.  Here's another piece of advice: the planet senshi make up a
team.  The most exclusive, elite, and tight-knit team in the history of
humanity.  You won't get along all the time.  Trust me," and here she
glanced at Haruka with a knowing almost-smile, "there will be arguments. 
You'll probably have screaming fits now and then, though we picked you
because you were most likely to get along.  But always, *always* remember
that you live together, you work together, you serve together, and you die
together."

	She paused, fixing each of the six juniors with her obsidian eyes. 
Chiharu pictured, if only for a moment, that she could see fires dancing in
their depths.  "The planet senshi must stay together.  I'm sorry if it
sounds like a lecture, but . . . it's very important that you never waver in
your loyalty to the Queen.  Not like--like some others have done." The
teenagers nodded, assuming--incorrectly, as it happened--she referred to the
Second Sailor Wars.

	Michiru took up the thread.  "You see, one reason we made the
collective decision to retire was because we'd served the first queen, Neo
Queen Serenity, for so long.  After nine centuries, you tend to ossify.  You
become too set in your ways."

	"And so eventually you reached a point where it was less a matter of
doing the Queen's will than trying to make the Queen do what her mother had
done," said Sharifa, her slim brown fingers toying with her fork.  Takeshi
noticed, as he glanced down the table, her plate was empty.

	"Exactly," said Michiru with a short, appreciative nod.

	"I think it's important for you to realize that you may, and
probably will, be called upon to make the same decision someday." Makoto
looked up at the ceiling as if for guidance, but the grey tiles had no
answers.  Shrugging almost imperceptibly, the brunette glanced back down at
Sharifa, as brown eyes met brown.  "Call it tradition, but planet senshi
serve only one Queen.  Once that Queen passes on, a new set of senshi is
expected to replace the previous."

	"When that happens," said Haruka softly, "remember what we've said,
even if we're long turned to dust."

	"You see," continued Minako, "there's another thing we haven't told
you about being a senshi.  Yes, it's a high responsibility, great honor, all
that stuff the Queen'll tell you at investiture.  But it's also damned
intoxicating.  You have *power*, real power to create and destroy.  It's
nothing you can ever prepare for.  It's kind of . . . almost orgasmic, isn't
it?" The blonde glanced among her fellow senshi for agreement, and received
it, albeit grudgingly.  "Especially the transformation.  When you transform
for the first time . . . well, I won't spoil the surprise, but trust me,
you'll like it." She grinned wickedly.

	Ami coughed lightly.  "I think what she's trying to say is that once
you have the magical powers we do, you won't want to give them up. You'll
never want the magic, or the power you have by dint of your position in
government, to end.  Remember, as planet senshi, you'll have the ear of the
Queen of the Moon Kingdom.  That's a staggering responsibility, one we tend
to forget about because we've held it for so long."

	"Exactly right," agreed Rei.  "Forget being able to create fires and
floods out of nowhere; just being in the top ring of political power is
plenty of temptation to do mischief.  Power corrupts, absolute power
corrupts absolutely . . . and frankly, we're giving you the next best thing
to just that."

	The room fell silent, the soon-to-be senshi thinking over what had
been said.  Sharifa, again, was first to respond, voicing the question they
all wanted to ask but were afraid to.  "In that case . . . in that case, why
entrust us with power if you're so afraid we'll misuse it?"

	"Because they don't have any other choice," pointed out Achika. She
leaned an elbow on the table, turning to give her full attention to the
African woman seated beside her.  "They've already given their reasons why
they should step down.  If they step down, they have to find someone to
replace them, and we're apparently the best choices."

	"Bull--baloney," blurted Hatsuyo, barely managing to avoid the
expletive in such august company.  "Come on, let's be honest here.  Who on
this side of the table really thinks they're not going to tempted to flex
their muscles, so to speak?"

	Her hand went up without hesitation.  After a couple moments,
Takeshi raised his head, followed by Achika and Sakura.  Sharifa and Chiharu
were last.

	"See?  You keep going on about how you're not gods and so on, but
how is anybody but a god supposed to keep a level head with this sort of
power?"

	"We never said it would be an easy job," said Michiru, her aqua eyes
looking directly into the blue eyes of her successor.  "Nor did we say there
was no possibility of failure; quite the opposite.

	"Despite all we've done to select and prepare you, it's very likely
you will not be good senshi." She paused to let the words sink in.  "That
said, we will do everything we can to make you the best senshi possible."

	"Well, not us, exactly," said Makoto, a slight rose blush in her
cheeks to match her earrings.  "You'll chiefly be instructed by Hotaru-chan. 
She'll assign you tutors, look after your progress in a few special
fields--especially magical combat--and so on.  But as for us, we'll really
have little time to teach you what you need to know in the little time you
have."

	"Where will you go?" asked Achika, who had been pondering this
question ever since the retirement of the planet senshi was announced. She
refused to admit, even to herself, that she was afraid the outgoing planet
senshi would stay on Luna and try to direct the incoming senshi from behind
the scenes.  The reason for this was simple: she wanted the power.  Worse,
she needed the power, in a way she hadn't realized she had before.

	She bit her lower lip.  Patience.  She knew what she'd wanted from
the moment Jen came to make her offer.  Blowing it all away with a bald
display of ambition simply could not be done.

	"Ganymede."  Makoto showed no signs of knowing what went on inside
Achika's head.  "We'll be performing a magic-based terraformation, just to
keep our powers sharp."

	Sharifa cocked her head to the side curiously.  "You're retaining
your abilities, then?"

	Makoto scratched her chin a moment, then glanced back up the table
to Ami.  "You want to handle this?"

	The blue-haired woman nodded once, finishing off her glass of juice.
"Of course.  Now, you'll understand this better once you've had some
thaumatological lessons under your belt, but one can dissociate the
elemental powers of senshi from the normal effects one normally assumes to
be part and parcel of being a senshi.  In my case, for example, the sailor
costume and attacks, such as Mercury Aqua Rhapsody, are part and parcel of
being Sailor Mercury.

	"There's another, more fundamental level to us, though.  An
elemental magic which can't be removed . . . at least, not by any method we
know of." A slight lie; there was, in fact, a theoretical way she and
Serenity could completely strip a senshi of magical abilities, but it had
never been attempted.  There was an understandable shortage of people
willing to try.  "I can, and always will be able to, have a certain level of
control over water."

	Takeshi blinked.  "And so will I?"

	"Right," said Ami with the smile a teacher grants her unusually
bright student.

	Minako chuckled softly.  "Senshi have great retirement plans, you
know," she said, flashing her trademark V sign.  Her five teammates tried to
resist the urge to hide their faces in their palms; Rei failed in this.

	Sharifa glanced at her watch, then frowned deeply.  "I'm sorry, but
according to our schedule, we have more orientation meetings to get to.  I'm
sure everyone would like to freshen up a bit before then.  Will you be
available for advice later?"

	The six planet senshi glanced at each other briefly, then shrugged. 
"If we have the time," said Haruka.  "Babysitting is out of the question."

	Across from her, Achika blinked, unsure whether her predecessor was
joking or not.  She sighed, never having been good at judging people.  After
a blizzard of thought which lasted less than a second, she smiled slightly
and bowed her head in acknowledgment of what could be taken as a jest or a
rebuke.  "We'll try not to be a bother."

	Haruka startled her with a hearty laugh, shaking her head softly. 
"No . . . I don't think you'll be a bother at all."


Neil Armstrong Park
Mare Tranquillitatis
13 August 3043
15:39 Lunar Standard Time

	"Mom!  You promised!"

	"If you'll remember, I promised that I wouldn't show any pictures of
you when you were a year old.  Two years old is perfectly legal."

	Jen's mother smiled beatifically at her daughter, who silently
fumed.  "She's right, you know," Jen's father said, an arm wrapped around
his wife's waist.  "You look just adorable in those pictures anyway, I don't
see why you'd complain."

	Thirty-two year old Jennifer Sakachi, not looking a day over
nineteen, scowled mightily as she glared out the clear, shatterproof
composite glass window.  Carefully manicured glass grew right up to its
edge, which made the dead grey soil on the other side that much startling. 
"It's embarrassing, that's why." The black boots of her naval uniform
shifted restlessly; beneath them, the blades of grass slowly sprung back to
their natural positions.  "I can't have my reputation tarnished like that."

	Isao Sakachi looked around the park appreciatively.  There were many
parks here at Mare Tranquillitatis, where men had first landed--or returned,
really--on the surface of the Moon.  The biggest and most popular was some
distance away, at the original Tranquility Base. However, the site of the
Apollo XI landing would be crowded, as always, and Jen had wanted to combine
both privacy and a nice view for this talk with her parents.

	Jen was in a common position among citizens of the Moon Kingdom. 
Interstellar travel was still a slow proposition, and families who were
scattered across different colonies rarely, if ever, had the opportunity to
gather.  Thus, she intended to make the most of her time here on Luna, and
hoped Eileen would do the same.

	Her father rubbed his chin.  "Reputation?  I don't see that it would
be that bad."

	"I'm Sailor Orion, a starship captain, a college professor--well, at
least associate processor--and a dozen other things. Put those pictures out
on the nets and I'll be a kid."

	The elder Jennifer let out a soft sigh, her hand grasping the
younger's arm.  Jen's head was bowed, masking the side of her face in a
curtain of red hair as she stared down at the grass, palms pressed against
the slight curve of Armstrong Park's transparent dome.  "Jen, dear, if you
seriously don't want us to release the pictures, we won't. But you're always
complaining to us about how you're looked at as some kind of heroine--"

	"Which is perfectly deserved, I think," interjected Isao.

	"--and wouldn't this just help people see your more human side?"

	"Two year olds aren't human, mom.  They're like . . . I don't know,
trouble generators."

	"You were rather well-behaved at two," her mother said mildly. Her
tone turned wistful as she glanced up to look at the stars visible through
the top of the dome, constellations easily recognizable thanks to a
childhood spent studying space and making plans to be to all those stars
someday.  "It was later on that you became a problem.  Especially that
incident at the football game."

	"Mother!"

	The elder laughed, hugging Jen tightly.  Jen had little choice but
to return the embrace, noting as she did the few wisps of grey at her
mother's temples.  Involuntarily she did a bit of arithmetic.  It was 3043. 
They'd been born 2979.  Their ages were thus sixty-four.  As for herself,
Jen would never grow old.

	She sighed.  "Mother, that was years ago.  I'm over it."

	"Oh really?"  Her mother smiled slyly.  "Eileen has written to me
more than once, asking how to get you to stop going on about that game. 
Apparently you've grown resistant to my usual treatments."

	"You sound like a doctor," said Jen.  The three continued along the
walkway, stopping again to read a plaque set in front of an iron trellis
covered with ivy.  "Hm.  I never knew they had Dijonese ivy here."

	Isao leaned close to read the inscription.  "Dijonese ivy?"

	"A strain of ivy the geneticists back in Crystal Tokyo first came up
with ages ago.  The chief geneticist on the project came up with the final
bit of gene sequencing while vacationing in Dijon, France." Jen smiled and
stroked the large, green leaves.  "Plants like these are some of the best
air recyclers ever.  Remove carbon dioxide, take in oxygen, and filter out
all sorts of nasty--and smelly--impurities.  It made long-range space travel
practical; all you had to do was let it grow in environmental spaces."

	She straightened and gestured to the southeast and Mare Serenitatis. 
"In the early days of building here, they practically let it grow rampant. 
A later version of the species emitted a slight minty odor, it was
wonderful." Jen smiled, resting an outstretched arm on the trellis.  "They
have some down at the Space Exploration Museum, actually." Jen's mother
opened her mouth to ask a question, but a sudden explosion cut her off.

	The first thing Jen was aware of was a sharp, whip-cracking sound,
almost simultaneous with an ear-splitting boom.  Everything went white,
almost as if fog settled over the park.  Her first, insane thought was that
fog was impossible.  The climate control systems would prevent it.

	She was still trying to sort out the fog when she realized she was in
fact moving, and the moment she'd figured that out, she slammed into the
trellis as if thrown by a giant hand.  Jen screamed in pain, then her eyes
opened wide as she realized not a sound had come out.

	Quick glances to her left and right found her parents against the
trellis as well.  Already, the pressure keeping her there was decreasing,
and her feet dropped back to the grass.  There was a terrible rushing
roaring in her ears, and she could feel her skin prickling into goosebumps
in the sudden cold.

	Being a starship captain meant that certain reflexes and procedures
were drilled into one's head again and again.  One of them, perhaps the
single most important to any spacer, was decompression.  She closed her
mouth, booted feet scrabbling soundlessly on the ground as she ran, both
arms reaching out to take vice-like grips on her parents' clothes.  She
winced; already the cold and vacuum were combining to create excruciating
pain in her joints.  In senshi form, she might have stood a better chance,
but she couldn't afford to take valuable time to transform.  Every second
counted.

	Jen spared no glance behind her, already guessing what she'd see. 
The dome had to have been breached, and breached badly; there was no other
way for all the air in the massive complex to have been blown out in less
than a second.  Her mind ran through the situation: the moment computers
detected the break, pressure doors would have slammed shut all around,
preventing the catastrophic decompression from spreading any further. 
Failsafe, she thought, with ancient and primitive barometers serving as
backups should the computers be down--as part of an organized attack or just
a flare-up of Murphy's law.

	She found what she was looking for almost instantly.  They were
required by law and paranoia; they tended to blend into the background over
time, though access to them could never be impeded or obstructed. It was a
large yellow handle with black diagonal stripes, with bright red writing in
English and Japanese.

	"EMERGENCY LIFE SHELTER.  PULL TO OPEN."

	The roaring in her ears was gone now, replaced by a steady ringing. 
The redhead had no idea how much time had passed; it couldn't have been
seconds, but she seemed to reach toward the handle for hours, days, years. 
Her thoughts became curiously focused; she was conscious of her heart,
thudding frantically beneath her sternum, her lungs convulsing in her rib
cage, spasming with the lack of oxygen.  She drove forward, though, fully
conscious that whatever she was going through, her parents must be even
worse.

	After an eternity, she sank to her knees on the grass, the
now-frozen green blades more literal than figurative as they scraped against
her dry skin.  A moment of pain as blood vessels broke, instantly ignored. 
More capillaries were bursting now, the pressure imbalance getting to her
skin.  Already, she could feel her eyes tearing.  No time at all.

	She dropped her mother like a sack of potatoes, leaving her to fall
silently as Jen's arm shot forward toward the handle.  The redhead expected
it to be hard to turn, and her eyes opened wider in surprise as the handle
easily spun one hundred eighty degrees.  Again, there was no sound, but from
the corner of her eye she saw a red light flash urgently at her.

	Training took over.  As if in a dream, she could hear the voice of
her instructor at the School, during depressurization drills.  "While on the
Moon, or any other planet- or asteroid-based installation subject to vacuum,
you will find ELS.  The airlock will open automatically upon turning the
handle, and will remain open as long as the handle remains in position. 
Once you let go, you will have ten seconds to enter before the airlock
closes, and pressurization of the shelter begins.  Ten seconds!"

	She could have wept.  Ten seconds.  Shaking her head as if punch
drunk, she tried to focus on the hatch.  Yes, there it was: a small, neat
circle of black in the surrounding grass, no more than a meter distant. 
Briefly she tried to judge the distance, a task made doubly difficult by her
blurring and speckled vision.  Just possible, she decided.  Without the
normal exhalation of breath, she pushed her mother's unconscious--please,
she prayed to the kami, let her simply be unconscious--body to the hatch,
relief striking as a wave as the elder woman vanished.

	Next, her father.  Harder, but not impossible.  The real trick was
managing to push him without letting go of the handle.  He, too, fell
silently down into the shelter.

	Her vision was telescoping rapidly.  By now, she could only see a
thin circle of grass and ornaments centered in a deep tunnel of black. It
was growing deeper with every second.  She tried to pull her hand from the
handle, noting with distress how sticky her palm was as it pulled away.  Her
palms were bleeding.  Annoying.

	As she let go, the handle sprang back to its natural position. Her
head snapped around in an effort which almost cost her the last of her
oxygen, hair whipping behind a moment afterward to partially obscure the red
light of the air lock, which now flashed more and more urgently.  She
stumbled toward the darkness, her knees bleeding profusely.  Dimly, she
realized the rapidly cooling wetness on her cheeks was blood as well.  She'd
been in vacuum too long.

	Tears welled up to mix with the blood.  Ten seconds.  Ten more
seconds, and she could have made it.  She fell flat to her face, her chin
just striking the lip of the hatch.  It took a Herculean effort to open her
eyes wide enough to see where she was, and more willpower than she thought
possible in order to push herself up with her arms, pulling enough of her
body over the hatch to outweigh her long, slender legs. Imbalance achieved,
she fell face-first into the hatch, her feet clearing the opening just as
the grass over metal covering snapped shut. Her head struck the heavily
padded floor of the shelter, and the last thing she heard was the sharp WHUD
of re-established pressure before the darkness closed up over everything.


Gamma Infirmary
Mare Tranquillitatis
18:12 Lunar Standard Time

	"Administered 500 cc of . . . wait, she's coming around. Lights to
eighty percent, and another dose of tetracycline.  Another round of
anti-carcinogens, as well."

	Jen opened her eyes to see a uniformly white ceiling, and a slightly
round face with blue eyes, framed by slightly darker blue hair. She sighed,
then blinked in surprise to realize she was breathing at all. After that
came a wince of pain.

	"It's best if you keep your eyes closed for now, Sakachi-sensei. 
They're still repairing themselves from the abuse you put them through."

	"Not my fault," rasped Jen, wincing again in surprise at how bad it
sounded.  "What happened?"

	"Later.  Your body needs to rest."

	Her arm reached up to grasp Ami Mizuno's wrist tightly, more tightly
in fact than she thought possible.  "My parents, what happened to them?"

	Ami smiled down at her.  "They'll be fine.  Please, rest."

	Jen let her arm flop back down to the bed, closing her eyes with a
sigh.  "Thank you."

	Ami nodded, pausing briefly to check the vital signs on the
computer display above Jen's head.  With a nod to the male nurse on the
other side of the bed, Ami spun and walked away from the room, its two
dozen beds, and the single occupant of those beds.

	Outside, a very familiar brunette paced back and forth, wearing the
uniform of a Royal Star Navy captain, the collar pin of a sailor senshi, and
the expression of a woman who well and truly had more worries than she knew
what to do with.  "Well?" she asked simply, brown eyes flashing with anger
which needed only a target to be deadly.

	"Better than I expected," said Ami, self-consciously sliding her
hands into the pockets of her lab coat.  Beneath it she wore the blue
sterile scrubs she preferred when not on official duty.  "The damage is
almost totally repaired, except around the eyes.  That should take a day or
so for her to recover from completely."

	"And her parents?"

	Ami sighed.  "They'll take a bit longer.  They're older, and they
don't have the healing factor of senshi like us.  They should be ready for
the wedding easily, though."

	Eileen nodded, suppressing the urge to harm the messenger.  It was a
bit easier when the messenger in this case was the doctor who'd saved her
fiancee's life, and a planet senshi besides.  "Okay."

	The blue-haired woman read the look in Eileen's eyes easily.
"Eileen-san, it could have been worse.  Much worse.  If it hadn't been for
that trellis, well . . . ." She left the rest unsaid.  Sucked out of the
broken dome, sent flying across the surface of the Moon.  Likely to die in
one of the more painful and excruciating ways possible.

	"Yes.  I know."  Two deep breaths, controlling her emotions, then a
short bow.  "I'll check again later.  Bye." Eileen managed to walk to the
end of the corridor, making a left before breaking into a run.

	Neil Armstrong Park was still in ruins.  The suction had destroyed
much of it, and that which remained was frozen, generally to the point of
being brittle.  Crews labored to repair the park's dome, even as other
investigators in anonymous white pressure suits tried to find out more about
the killer.


Conference Room 17
Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
18:29 Lunar Standard Time

	"A grain of sand?  A freaking grain of *sand* nearly killed them?"

	Makoto spread her arms placatingly.  "That's our best guess, and
Ziggy confirms.  I mean, there aren't many possibilities.  Our defense and
tracking radars didn't show anything.  No traces of explosives.  Scanners
could find no signs of a laser firing, and besides that, there was nothing
in range to fire one." Ships were generally discouraged from lingering long
in Lunar orbit.

	"Yes, but you've seen the pictures, haven't you?  Something frigging
*huge* plowed into the dome.  Some little speck couldn't possibly do that
kind of damage!"

	A small, polite cough from the end of the table.  Makoto, Haruka,
and Eileen turned to regard the petite figure there.  One of the few senshi
to wear glasses, Rie Iwasata--Sailor Vega--had a cute, youthful face framed
by short, light purple hair which bordered on pink.  Behind her glasses were
blue eyes which sparkled with intelligence when not hiding in her usual
shyness.  "Yes, Rie-chan?"

	Rie blushed as she stood.  Shy as a schoolgirl, thought Eileen. Odd,
considering she'd been a senshi longer than Eileen had, her first
transformation coming in 3011.  "I, um, it's not exactly a matter purely of
mass.  Kinetic energy depends on velocity as well as mass."

	"Yes, one-half the mass times the square of the velocity." Eileen
nodded in irritation.  "But that blast-"

	"-was very powerful, yes."  Rie interlaced her fingers, feeling a
bit more confident.  Despite her shy demeanor, she headed the Weapons
Development Board, and thus was responsible for the RSN's arsenal of
missiles, lasers, and grasers, as well as making sure they were as modern
and deadly as possible.  Eileen had only met her once before, at a birthday
party back in Crystal Tokyo, and remembered mulling on how someone so timid
and unassuming could spend her life designing newer and more efficient ways
of killing people.  "Nothing we couldn't do, a basic kinetic strike."

	"But there was no-one in position to launch one, was there?" asked
Haruka.  "Our sensors would have detected the construction of a railgun or
other magnetic impellers."

	"Right," said Rie.  "Nothing within passive sensor range could have
launched a kinetic strike, and our active scans aren't finding anything
either.  That leaves something outside our range."

	Makoto frowned deeply, then glanced at the ceiling.  "Ziggy, could
you have Hotaru-chan come here, please?  I don't think she should be left
out of this."

	"Agreed," said Haruka.  "You're implying, Rie-chan, that someone
outside our sensor range--which is quite extensive, mind you--is capable of,
and did, throw a crowbar at us."

	Rie blushed slightly, trying to find a way to correct her superior
without making Haruka lose face.  "That is most likely the case, Haruka-san,
but not the entire story.  Whatever it was also had to be invisible to our
radar.  Assuming," and none of them missed the slight emphasis on the word
'assuming,' "that the objects launched at us were of comparable mass to our
own, it should have been found, or at least a visual trace."

	"How?  It would be stealthed."

	The three senshi looked at Eileen.  "We have . . . certain assets
which would allow for detection by other means.  That's all you need to
know," said Makoto.

	"I see," Eileen answered.  She glanced at Rie.  "Well, go on."

	"Yes, of course.  Um . . . well, nothing that large was detected. 
So, I knew it wasn't a big object--"

	"How about a black hole?"

	"Gravitics would have caught it," said Haruka with more than a hint
of impatience.  "Continue."

	"Yes, a singularity would definitely have been detected.  So I
eventually concluded it had to be sand.  Or at the least, a particle on the
order of a millimeter in diameter at the most."

	"Okay," said Makoto after a moment, "there's plenty of dust out
there.  "It's not totally implausible.  But we have shielding against
micrometeorite damage.  How could it have gotten though?"

	Rie nodded.  "Right.  An ordinary micrometeorite wouldn't have
passed through the standard radiation and particle shields we have around
the Moon.  It had to move fast."

	"Well?" prompted Eileen.  "How fast?"

	"My best estimates put it at forty to fifty percent of the speed of
light."

	"Are you quite sure?" asked Haruka.  For years and decades
afterward, Eileen would always remember how utterly calm and tranquilly
Haruka asked the question, as if confirming the date for a dinner
reservation.

	"I'll need more data to be precise.  Judging from the impact crater,
though, I think it unlikely that the particle was traveling at more than
one-half cee.  Forty-five percent is my best guess, but I should be able to
firm up the data in a few days."

	The silver door of the conference room slid open, admitting Sailor
Saturn.  Her Glaive flipped into thin air as she nodded to those present and
took a seat at the head of the table.  "Ziggy has already filled me in on
what I've missed.  Rie, could you duplicate this attack?"

	"You mean, do we have the capability to fire grains of sand at half
the speed of light?" The shy genius shook her head.  "Perfecting our kinetic
strike technique was difficult enough.  Sand . . . well, perhaps an iron
filing is a better analogy, since it would have to be a ferromagnetic
material.  Anyway, there's nothing we have, or are planning, which could
manage it, let alone so precisely."

	"Assuming that this was intentional, and not just a miss of a
juicier target like Mare Crisium," pointed out Haruka.

	"It had to be targeted," murmured Makoto.  "Anyone with that kind of
technology--"

	"Yes, but why a park?  There weren't that many--"

	"A symbolic attack, perhaps, to strike terror or probe our
defenses--"

	"If they have that kind of power, they don't *need* to probe--"

	Eileen coughed.  "Um, I hate to interrupt," she lied, "but isn't
this kind of secondary to preventing something like this happening again? 
Who *cares* if it was targeted here or not?" She glared at Rie.  "Worst
case, somebody wings one of those sandblasts from hell and hits Mare
Crisium." She pointed a finger up toward the ceiling, through the kilometer
or two of offices, living spaces, cafeterias and conference rooms, up to the
very top layer of lunar regolith.  "How many dead?"

	To her credit, Rie didn't even blink.  It was a simple mathematical
calculation, and she'd double-checked her numbers before coming to the
meeting.  She glanced briefly at the handlink before her on the broad oak
table to refresh her memory.  "A hundred or so.  Bear in mind that the dome
over Armstrong Park was not intended to withstand a serious kinetic attack. 
The macromonocrystals we use for domes simply aren't that strong.

	"On the other hand, Mare Crisium was designed and built with kinetic
attacks in mind.  There's a good ten meters of the original lunar rock on
top of twelve layers of armor." She didn't go into the specifics; the armor
plating which protected the lunar capital was made from the toughest metal
alloys science knew how to make.  "That said, a direct hit from the largest
grain of sand capable of avoiding our detection would probably blast through
at least the regolith.  Maybe it would get through one armor plate, but that
would depend on the angle of entry, and precise location of the strike.  If
it hit one of the portholes . . . ."

	"Portholes?" asked Eileen.

	"Holes in the armor plating," supplied Makoto.  "Used for elevators,
drop-down shafts for some chambers above the armor layer, that sort of
thing.  We worry about them a lot, especially if someone manages to get a
lucky shot and hit a seam."

	"Yes," confirmed Rie.  "A comparable blast would probably cause
severe concussive damage to those levels in the rock, and without any
warning time to evacuate . . . ." She shrugged fatalistically.

	A frown came across Sailor Saturn's face.  "I don't like this at
all.  There's no chance this was a natural event?"

	"Possible, but not probable.  There aren't very many naturally
occurring phenomena which could kick particles to one-half cee.  A
supernova, perhaps, or maybe the accretion disk of a black hole.  Very
unlikely."

	"I see."  Saturn stood abruptly.  "You'll make a full report to the
Queen?"

	Rie instantly blushed, looking as if she'd rather be anywhere but in
that suddenly uncomfortable chair.  "I, um . . . ma'am, I'm still working
on--"

	"Well, if you could have the report to her as soon as possible, I'm
sure she'd be most grateful." The words were polite, but her tone brooked no
argument.

	Rie, socially reclusive as she was, realized this.  "Of course. I'll
have it done immediately."

	As the others filed out of the meeting room, Eileen rubbed her head
tiredly.  She barely noticed when Sailor Saturn took the seat next to her. 
"Should we cancel?"

	"Pardon?"

	"The wedding."  Eileen looked up at Sailor Saturn, looking far older
than she usually did.  "If the Moon could be sandblasted to bits, I don't
think a grand and glorious wedding will be appropriate."

	The senshi of silence curled her lip slightly.  "No."

	"No?"

	"No."

	"No."

	"No.  Canceling now would only cause a panic, and besides that,
there's no reason to believe this is anything other than an isolated
incident.  Even if it's not," she continued, raising a hand to belay
Eileen's protest, "then nothing would be accomplished by canceling.  Our
enemies, whoever they might be, are just as likely to strike an isolated,
uninhabited area, or a near miss on Serenitatis, or a direct hit on Crisium. 
The best we can do is find out who or what is responsible for this, and
respond accordingly."

	"Heh."  Eileen straightened, glancing up at the analog clock on the
wall.  "'Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we all may die?' There's a
healthy attitude."

	Sailor Saturn's voice took on a distant tone as she looked away. 
"Exactly.  Because if some advanced civilization can confront us with that,
it's all over anyway."


Neil Armstrong Park
Mare Tranquillitatis, Luna
14 August 3043
02:09 Lunar Standard Time

	Hatsuyo bunny-hopped.  The gait was still the most efficient way to
move about the Lunar surface on foot, despite the millennium which had
passed since it was invented.

	She loved moonwalking.  One of her fondest childhood memories was
her first time going 'outside.' Five minutes on the Lunar surface, the
payoff of six months testing out and practicing with vacuum suits and
emergency drills.  Her first step on the well-worn practice area had been
memorable as well--all her life she'd lived on the Moon, and yet it was her
first time actually standing on its surface, looking up at the brilliant
stars of the Milky Way, and the gently curving blue-white orb that was
Earth.

	Now, years later, she jumped up and did a slow turn, sailing through
the air a bit erratically as her center of mass changed, looking through her
polarized visor at Earth.  Right now, she thought with a smile, some kid
down there is looking up at the waxing gibbous Moon, thinking about what it
would be like to be live up here.  Meanwhile, she stood on the Moon's
surface, looking down at the waning crescent Earth, and not wondering for a
second what it must be like to live down there.  Hatsuyo was quite happy
living on the Moon; her parents had met here, she'd been born here, she
lived here.

	She landed awkwardly on a chunk of rock which was about the size of
her head.  Most such rocks were cleared away from the more well-used paths,
but this area remained in near-pristine condition. Failing to look where she
was going, her left foot turned on the rock, sending her spinning in slow
motion toward the surface.  "Shit!"

	Ahead, her lone companion turned his head to watch as she landed on
the rock.  Hatsuyo's grunt as she exhaled sharply into the microphone in her
helmet was the only audible indication of the fall. The puff of grey dust
which accompanied her landing was more than adequate visual evidence.  "You
should watch your step," he said helpfully.

	"Gee, thanks."  The edge was off her sarcasm, however. She knew just
how deadly a suit puncture could be, despite the safeguards built into
spacesuits in the centuries since the first bulky units were designed and
built in the 1960s.  It definitely didn't pay to take unnecessary chances
out here.

	The engineer extended an arm to help her up.  Their fingers linked;
she could feel him very well.  Thirty-first century spacesuits featured,
among other things, very tight and flexible gloves.  She'd seen pictures of
the monstrosities NASA astronauts wore back in 1999, and was forced to
wonder how they ever got anything done.  Of course, she reminded herself,
they lacked a thousand extra years of materials science.  "Thanks,
Arihyoshi-san," she said again, in a much different tone than before.

	"Don't mention it.  You okay?" asked Oniji Arihyoshi.

	"I'm fine."  She shook her head clear, then brushed the dust from
her formerly pristine white suit.  "How much further?"

	"Not far," said Oniji.  He resumed hopping his way to the shattered
remains of the dome.  "Oh, you'll want to watch out for any shards.  If the
incident occurred like Ziggy says it probably did, then there'll be a few of
them around to slice up your feet."

	Hatsuyo noted it was called an 'incident.'  Not an attack or an
accident.  "Our boots won't protect us?"

	"Did you read the specs on the dome material?"  His voice was
curious, not accusatory.

	"I did . . . there were one or two details I couldn't figure out,
though."

	Ahead of her, Hatsuyo saw the engineer's head bob in understanding. 
"Right.  I didn't think you would figure it all out; that's the point of a
teaching exercise.  Well, the crystal we used to make the dome is a
macromonocrystal, as you know.  What makes it strong is the fact that there
are no overt seams or weak spots."

	"So I read.  But it still broke."

	He shrugged, a subtle gesture with a life support system attached to
one's back.  "Given what hit it, that's no surprise.  There isn't the
structure built that can stand an impact at half-cee.  The lesson here, I
suppose, is that no matter how strong you build something, and no matter
what you make it out of . . . something like this can happen."

	They passed a large boulder, out of place here on the dark, flat
mare, and the remains of the dome came into full view.  The view before them
resembled nothing so much as a broken eggshell, shattered close to the base. 
It had been painted a dull grey, so as to blend into the surrounding rock
and sand.  Now, jagged shards of it poked up into the inky blackness of
space, as if a giant chicken had hatched and walked away.

	She cast her eyes about the ground.  "You know . . . how are we
going to find these shards if they're the same color as the soil?"

	The engineer chuckled.  "A good question.  A tough one, too.
Hopefully our suit sensors will pick them up; the crystal has a specific
resonance that should be easy to pick up with all this sunlight to stimulate
it.  Ah, here we are." He half-stumbled to a stop, clouds of moon dust
kicking up around his feet.  With exaggerated care, he reached down and
grasped the shard between gloved fingers.  "Our culprit."

	Hatsuyo leaned closer.  The material was about as long as her
forearm, half a meter wide and tapering to a dagger's point.  Barely visible
in the glaring sunlight were tiny ripples in the material, reminding her of
pictures she'd seen taken in the desert, of ridges in the sand neat and
orderly as if created by a comb.  She ran through the characteristics of the
material, then raised her eyes up to meet his. They saw nothing, of course,
but the golden reflection of her own helmet.  "Heat damage?" she asked.

	"Right.  A good chunk of the missile's energy went into creating a
blast, but remember that the Second Law always holds.  Almost all that
energy went into heat, and that was enough to melt the crystal." He pointed
to the shattered dome.  They were on a slight rise in the terrain, and
accordingly could see the crater in the center of the park.  "We're already
finding melted bits of debris on the park floor.  Messy; if we'd used
military-grade building materials, it wouldn't have been nearly this bad."

	"How can you be sure?"

	Oniji chuckled.  "Well, military monocrystals are designed to
take heavy kinetic hits.  Actually, the tech is designed to dissipate the
energy throughout the entire dome.  In theory, something like this would
have distributed the shock and thermal impact equally throughout the dome. 
In practice, the tests we've run say only so much heat can be dissipated
before it fails completely.  The result would be a smaller hole, probably a
dozen meters or so in diameter."

	Hatsuyo pondered this, glancing to the east and the several other
domes of Mare Tranquillitatis.  "Why not use the military-grade stuff for
all the domes?"

	"Too expensive, for the most part."  The two resumed bunny-hopping
closer to the dome, intent on gaining a better perspective on the damage. 
"Also, most of these domes were already up by the time the military crystal
was designed.  Replacing them would have meant a total nanotech-level
molecular replacement job."

	The blue-haired teen grinned in her helmet, then frowned. "Nanotech
would have been perfect.  Why didn't they?"

	"Because nanotech devices are lousy at getting rid of heat," chided
Oniji.  Hatsuyo's face heated as she recalled one of the very first lessons
of nanotechnology.  "We're in a vacuum, so you can only lose what heat you
radiate, radiation is based on surface area--"

	"--and surface area is minimized."  Hatsuyo nodded inside her
helmet, even if her engineering tutor couldn't see the gesture.  It was an
old problem of nanotechnology, and one of the reasons the field was still
struggling to move into mainstream industry centuries after the idea was
first conceived to build microscopic robots.  "Couldn't you just use the
normal coolant streams?"

	"Yes and no.  We could, but the problems of pumping liquid hydrogen
and helium in a vacuum, especially a vacuum which is only at two or three
Kelvin . . . well, that'd just add to your costs.

	"Dissemblers would be easier, of course.  We've always found taking
things apart a lot simpler than putting them together.  But then you'd be
exposing everything under those domes to vacuum, and the damage from that
would be horrific to say the least, even by placing most plant life under
wraps."

	Hatsuyo waved a hand in submission.  "Okay, okay, I get the point. 
They're stuck with the old domes."

	A chuckle sounded through her ear-buds.  "Mind you, there's nothing
particularly *wrong* about the domes.  For almost all purposes--keeping heat
in, keeping cosmic rays and high-energy radiation out--they work perfectly. 
You just can't foresee things like incoming particles at relativistic
speeds.  They don't occur in nature, and you figure that anyone with the
kind of cannon you'd need to accelerate it could be spotted and destroyed in
time, or at least give enough warning to evacuate surface habitats."

	She looked up at the stars.  Here, far from the atmosphere of Earth,
they were steady and unwinking.  For some reason, she found this a more
disturbing effect than the winks they'd given her in her few trips to Earth. 
The impression of thousands of unblinking, hostile eyes staring down at her
from all directions made her flesh crawl.  "Um, right.  So, what else do we
have to see here?"


Throne Room of the Royal Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
16 August 3043
14:29 Lunar Standard Time

	"No, no, no.  They won't see anything there!"  Sailor Cassiopeia
stalked across the wide expanse of the throne room, her loud voice echoing
from the ancient and hallowed walls.  Ancient and hallowed my ass, she
thought angrily as she nearly tripped over a coil of red crowd-control
ropes.  Place is a pain to decorate.

	Twenty-nine year old Hiroshi Tojo looked down from the six-meter
high scaffolding on which he stood.  It was positioned toward the middle of
one of the long walls of the throne room, with a meter separating it from
the bricks of the chamber.  Her mind quickly recited the facts for her,
pulled from the gigabytes of notes, facts, and trivia about the Palace she'd
forced herself to remember.  The bricks, as near as archaeologists could
figure, had been quarried from Crater Plinius, on the southern rim of Mare
Serenitatis.  A total of 5.9 million stones--give or take a few hundred
thousand--were used in its building.

	She sighed.  Sometimes it seemed that for special occasions such as
this, every single one of them needed its own individualized decoration. 
Every time she went to the trouble of decoration--the last time had been the
Queen's birthday--she made a note reminding herself to tell the Queen there
were much better, well-equipped, and above all easier to prepare rooms in
and around the Palace than the stupendous throne room.  For some reason,
though, she never got around to it.

	"Look, Tojo-san.  If you set up for the cameras here, not only do
you block out a good four rows of seats, but you ruin the camera angles for
the tertiary cameras back there!" She waved a gloved hand back to the rear
of the chamber, where assorted slim black poles waited for their holovid
cameras.  "How many times must I tell you to make sure positions won't
obstruct lines of sight?"

	Hiroshi scowled and slid down the scaffolding's ladder.  "I was
trying to get out of the way of this statue, here." He pointed to an arch in
the wall, in which was placed a polished marble statue of Sailor Uranus. 
The only way one could really tell it was Uranus, and not Mercury, was that
she held the Space Sword in her hand.  "You said yourself that you didn't
want to obstruct the statuary."

	"Huh."  Sailor Cassiopeia paused, hands on hips, looking over the
scaffolds with a critical eye.  He was right; the grey metal bars partially
stood in the way of the sculpture, creating a rather jarring intrusion on
the art.  Most people would neither notice nor care, but she wasn't most
people.  The blonde turned to look at her companion, whose hair matched her
own in color, if nothing else.  "What do you think we should do?"

	Sakura Shintaro frowned slightly.  She wore a plain white polo shirt
with orange shorts which were cut high, as was the fashion at the time.  As
a result, they left her legs almost totally bare, but she did not seem very
aware or concerned of the fact.  "Why not move it forward?  Or better yet,
just get rid of it?  I mean, the press has plenty of cameras already."

	Sailor Cassiopeia sighed and shook her head.  "Trust me, I already
tried to talk them out of it.  I suppose letting the Earth networks weasel
their way out of accepting pool coverage was when I started going wrong. But
the Queen said she wanted to give the Terrans as much access as was
reasonable."

	"Hm."  Sakura wrinkled her forehead.  "This isn't reasonable."

	"No, kid, it's not.  At least, not now, but if you *really* want to
piss off a Terran newshound, go back on what you told him yesterday." The
senshi rubbed her forehead.  "No, they all wanted their own cameras, which
means we have an insane number of them.  All just to get the same view.  So
wasteful."

	Sakura took another look around the room.  Banners and ribbons
festooned the walls, a kaleidoscope of color combinations matching those of
the six retiring planet senshi.  It took a great deal of clever and artful
arrangement to keep it looking as if a box of paints hadn't been
accidentally spilled.  "Um, about the banners. Would we pick something less
jarring?  Something understated, like lighting? I mean, we're just going to
have to change them for the wedding."

	Sailor Cassiopeia rubbed her chin thoughtfully.  "Maybe. Though then
we'd end up burning more time taking the damn things down."

	"Okay, but how about this.  We make all the banners white, and just
put the senshi symbols on them in the appropriate colors?"

	"Huh."  Cassiopeia looked curiously at the youngster--relatively
speaking, as Sailor Cassiopeia was one of the youngest senshi herself--and
blinked.  "You know, that's not a bad idea at all.  Wonder why I didn't
think of it."

	Sakura smiled and stretched, interlocking her fingers. "Because you
don't have my flair for decoration?"

	The senshi smirked.  "Don't push it, Sakura-chan.  Okay, I'll have
some banners made up tonight.  Actually, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make
some for all the senshi.  They could be put up for occasions like this, or
promotions, stuff like that."

	"I like that idea.  Kind of like a Valhalla setting."

	"Yeah, sure."  Sailor Cassiopeia giggled as they made their way
toward the massive double doors at the rear of the Throne Room, opposite the
throne itself.  "I don't think Her Majesty would like putting in wooden
rafters and long dinner tables."

	"You're no fun," teased Sakura.  Actually, she'd found the
curly-haired senshi to be immensely fun.  True, Sailor Cassiopeia wasn't
much of a fighter.  Cassiopeia's combat ratings were near the bottom of all
senshi, but her mind and ability to communicate were her strengths. Sakura
had learned a great deal in the short time she'd been under Cassiopeia's
tutelage, and she would regret leaving her when their time together was up.

	The system of tutorships and what were more or less internships had
been Sailor Saturn's brainchild.  Her reasoning was simple: they had no time
to waste on classroom teaching, beside which it wasn't the best way to get
across the necessary points anyway.  Things like how to motivate and lead a
small team, or how to maneuver in the odd, oligarchical government of the
Moon Kingdom, couldn't be diagrammed on blackboards or demonstrated in
notebooks.  The hands-on approach to teaching was thus necessary, but Saturn
had one problem with it.

	For the most part, the new senshi never met each other.  They shared
rooms, of course, and saw each other at mealtimes, but that was almost all. 
All six were in their own separate worlds, learning to function individually
but not as a team.  Sailor Saturn realized this, and had allowed time in the
training schedule for them to practice cooperative tactics, but she--and, to
be fair, the rest of the senshi--had yet to feel comfortable working with
each other.

	Sakura sighed.  While it was true that the need for cooperative
tactics wasn't as dire for the planet senshi as it had been during their
beginnings in the twentieth century, it still wouldn't hurt to know her
companions better.  The fact that they would have decades, if not centuries,
to get used to each other was scant comfort when she realized she didn't
know something as simple as Sharifa's favorite food.

	"Sailor Cassiopeia?"

	The senshi glanced up from the to do list of her handlink, having
just crossed off item number twenty-nine on the day.  "Yeah?"

	"What's Sharifa-chan's favorite food?"

	"Potato chips," said Cassiopeia after the barest hesitation. "Baked,
to be precise, and lightly salted."

	Sakura shook her head slightly.  "How do you know that kind of
stuff?"

	"It's my job," Cassiopeia answered with a shrug.  "'Director of
Public Relations' might as well mean 'Repository of Useless Facts.' For all
that it's unlikely anyone will ever want to know whether you use a synthetic
or natural bow on your cello, I have to be able to tell any reporter who
happens along that it's natural."

	"You knew that?"

	Her elder grinned.  "Horsehair.  From Cytherian horses, of course. 
You're very insistent on it, though I can't say I know why."

	It was Sakura's turn to grin, and she did so impishly, interlocking
her hands behind her back and stretching.  "Well, you could call it pride in
my homeworld."

	"Or typical Cytherian arrogance."

	"Whatever works."  They both giggled, Sailor Cassiopeia with a bit
more relief than her protegees.  Venus's inhabitants had a reputation--some
would say a well-deserved one--for being more than a little convinced of
their own superiority to the rest of the Moon Kingdom in almost every field. 
It was good for Cassiopeia to know Sakura didn't fall into the sizable
majority of her fellow colonists who fit that description.  Of course,
Sailor Cassiopeia lacked the knowledge of Sakura's arguments with Hatsuyo,
which were quickly assuming titanic proportions. They'd been carefully
wrapped up in house, as it were.

	"Hey," said Sailor Cassiopeia after a few moments of companionable
silence, "if you're not doing anything, I'm meeting with my staff tonight
over dinner to discuss the latest round of press releases.  You can come
along, if you like."

	Sakura pondered this.  "Would they by any chance relate to a certain
senshi wedding?"

	The senshi looked around the throne room, but none of the workers
were close enough to overhear, and if they did happen to catch a scrap of
conversation, they knew enough to keep their mouths shut about it. 
"Perhaps.  More specifically, a whole raft of diplomatic proposals the Queen
wants to attach to the usual string of announcements."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah, oh."  Sailor Cassiopeia stretched.  "But that's enough shop
talk for today.  Go on, you probably have some ungodly lecture to get to."

	Sakura nodded, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling and its banners. 
"Do I ever.  We're doing third-dimensional Pauli-type nonspecific
thaumatological metamorphoses."

	The senshi blinked, then clapped softly, several times.
"Congratulations."

	"Congratulations on what?"

	"On getting the whole thing out without tripping over the words."

	Sakura giggled.  "Oh, thanks.  Saying it is almost as hard as
actually doing it . . . but we're getting the hang of it.  Either that, or
we're just becoming immune."

	Sailor Cassiopeia nodded.  "Probably the latter.  I know I despised
it in your place.  Good luck."

	"Thanks, I'll need it."  Sakura bowed politely and walked for the
main exit, muttering dour curses on generations of scientists.


Flag Bridge, HMS Motoki Furuhata
650,000 km above Lunar North Pole
15 August 3043
10:22 Lunar Standard Time

	Captain Fuyuko Ichiyusai folded her hands uncomfortably behind her,
trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.  It wasn't particularly difficult,
given how many people were crowded into the room, but she still tried her
best.  She ached for the comforting presence of her exec, but Commander
Tanazaki was standing watch over Fuyuko's ship, which stood watch some
150,000 kilometers aft of the massive carrier.

	As for the flag bridge, it was presently crowded with a good dozen
officers and even more enlisted personnel.  All were there to observe a
computer simulation of the new generation of fighters in action.

	Fuyuko didn't quite dislike the fighter concept.  She admitted
rather freely that she owed her present command to the newly evolving fleet
doctrine.  She quite literally would not have her shiny new destroyer if it
weren't for HMS Furuhata and the need to escort her.

	The problem was the de-emphasis on independent maneuvering and
planning.  In the event of contact with unfriendly aliens, the task force
was to act as a cohesive whole, with the carrier as its nerve center.  This
was the reason for the flag bridge, where an admiral could supervise general
fleet observations away from the true ship's bridge, where the mere command
of the ship took place.

	As it happened, there was a third center of the ship.  Flight
Operations was where the fighter wing would be commanded. Unfortunately, a
blown relay and well-nigh catastrophic cascade failure of the supposedly
foolproof, triply-redundant backup systems had failed. The end result was
the required total overhaul of what was supposed to be the most
sophisticated command, control, and communication system in the Royal Star
Navy.

	Fuyuko sighed, watching icons march across the flat-screen displays
which were mounted to the bulkheads.  The display here was supposed to have
been in the form of a holographic tank projector, but it was mostly
dissembled now.  No-one was quite sure how or why the power surge happened,
which was rather frightening.  Lieutenant Commander Risako Otsu,
newly-appointed chief engineer, was equally clueless.  Fuyuko privately
thought Otsu's career, which had mainly advanced through senshi patronage,
would soon meet a speedy demise if she couldn't handle the responsibilities
of her new assignment.  Of course, if--

	"Captain Ichiyusai!"  The captain snapped to attention; only after
she'd squared her shoulders did she realize it was the voice of Commodore
Yuki Aihara. "I asked a question, Captain."

	"Yes, ma'am.  I'm sorry, ma'am, I didn't quite catch the question."

	Commodore Aihara frowned deeply.  Come to think of it, Aihara had
been frowning a lot lately, and Fuyuko doubted it was unconnected to
Aihara's falling out of favor at the Admiralty.  She wasn't sure of the
details, but the fact that Aihara was here and not a rear admiral with
command of one of the carriers slated for completion late the next year
undoubtedly was a symptom.

	"I had asked if you could explain for us how you might integrate
fighter craft with your ship's potential duty as advance picket.  If we're
boring you, however . . . ."

	"No, ma'am, sorry ma'am, but it's a complex issue," Fuyuko finished
lamely.  It wasn't much of a save, but the commodore chose to accept it
regardless.  She glanced up at the red digits of the chronometer: 10:24. 
"I'm afraid I haven't really had the time to look at the specs for the
fighters in the detail needed."

	"Why not?" snapped Commodore Aihara.  At her side, Commodore
Aihara's flag captain looked askance at her, then shrugged and shifted back
to a posture of studied indifference.  Fuyuko's eyes almost narrowed at
this, but there was nothing to be done about it.

	"Because, ma'am, I've been busy--"

	"This is the Royal Star Navy, Captain, we're *all* busy.  Or are you
stating your inability to discharge your duties?"

	Fuyuko did narrow her eyes at this, and her lips pursed.  "My
apologies, ma'am.  I was apparently under the mistaken impression that
seeing to the spaceworthiness and battle readiness of my command was more
crucial than staying informed on weapons platforms which are not properly my
responsibility."

	Whatever response Commodore Aihara might have given--and from the
expression on her face, it would have been a terribly scathing one--was cut
off by the insistent bleating of a proximity alarm. "What the hell is that?"
she snapped, whirling at the nearest non-flag officer.

	This happened to be a petty officer attached to the fighter wing's
maintenance division, and he was as clueless as anyone else in the room. "I,
um . . . I'll check," he stammered.

	Fuyuko rolled her eyes. She'd happened to be looking at the sensor
screens when the alarm sounded, and leaned a bit closer to one of the dim
monitors. Her eyes impassively took in the blue-shift indicated by the
approaching object, nodding in agreement with the computer's predicted
impact time. Turning, she glanced at her superiors, opening her mouth to
relay the news even as her brain silently screamed in mortal terror, because
nothing in the universe had any business traveling that fast with that sort
of mass, not unless it had been intentionally fired, and--

	"Micrometeorite burst, ma'am," said Fuyuko coolly. "Bearing
two-two-six mark zero-zero-eight, speed a constant .82 c, impact three
seconds." She glances back up at Commodore Aihara, and there was just enough
time for both their expressions to harden with shock before the ship reeled.


Central Command Room
Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
15 August 3043
10:37 Lunar Standard Time

	Chiharu kicked her legs back and forth as they dangled in the air.
She breathed a short, irritated sigh of frustration for the ninety-fourth
time at being put in a chair which was really designed for someone taller.

	She realized that most of the complex was built for taller people
than she. She appreciated the overall rise in height among ethnic
Japanese--now Lunarians--which was responsible for the scale. She even
recognized that the defense budget cuts some years ago had, among other
things, resulted in the purchase of some six thousand chairs which were not
height-adjustable. This in particular had surprised her to no end, as she
hadn't know any chairs *weren't*  adjustable these days.

	All these reasons, though, didn't quite compensate for the indignity
of waving her feet in the air like a child.

	Lazily, she doodled a few stray figures in the margin of the notepad
which lay before her on the console. The console itself was ordinary, part
of one of many banks of such consoles which made up the most part of the
Navy's nerve center. The paper was as well, after a Fleet exercise involving
the total, fatal failure of all the Moon's computer systems. Chiharu had
laughed when she heard it, but the lieutenant who'd told her had looked
anything but amused. Heads had doubtless rolled for that one.

	She sighed, a bit more heavily. A quick furtive glance showed her
that there hadn't been the desired effect; no-one looked in her direction.
"Damn," she muttered darkly, before returning to her doodles.

	 A brief glance at a status window she'd opened showed the location
of her five fellow senshi-to-be. Takeshi was at an air recycling plant,
Sakura at a fighter wing simulator, Sharifa was studying with an Army
engineer corps unit, Achika was with the ambassador to Southeast Asia, and
Hatsuyo was with a survey team near the site of the recently destroyed dome.
All were learning bits and pieces of everything the senshi had to know.

	Chiharu looked up at the status screens, whistling silently at all
the information they held. Ship positions, troop movements, supply trains:
everything an admiral might need at a glance to judge the state of the navy.
She'd never realized just how much information that alone entailed, let
alone all the other fields: astronomy, biology, philosophy, programming,
physics, psychology, economics, chemistry, politics . . . the list went on
and on, so much more than Chiharu had ever thought she'd want or need to
know. Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't able to handle it; she was
completely confident she could learn everything thrown at her between now
and her establishment as Sailor Mars, and--

	She blinked at a sudden blip on the monitors. An approaching object
with an incredible blue-shift. Her lips pursed as she breathed in sharply,
following the path even as the tracking computers laid out its trajectory,
then breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever it was--and the computers were
still trying to figure out its mass and shape--it would miss Luna.

	The girl breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in her chair and
forgetting to be annoyed as her legs dangled. A close call, but it would
probably turn out to be a micrometeorite of some sort.

	There was just enough time to think to herself that it was very
unusual for anything in nature to travel so fast, and then the formerly
calm, reserved command center slid into chaos.

	Chiharu sat bolt upright in her seat, eyes flickering from the
screens to the dozens of people around her who were also snapping to
attention. She tried to pick out specific parts of the rise in background
chatter, ratings and officers relaying information to superiors or
subordinates scattered all over Luna.

	She craned her head back behind her, looking up toward the rear of
the chamber and the balcony on which the flag officers usually congregated.
Just the officer of the watch was there at present. A Commodore Matthews,
she remembered, one of the Navy's newest flag officers. A rather charming
young woman, whose family had only recently emigrated from the European
Union, and had complimented Chiharu on the red hair band she'd decided to
wear today.

	Now, Commodore Matthews was all action, hastily brushing long blonde
hair from her face as she slipped on a headset. Her grey eyes widened
uncontrollably as she listened to the chattering voices, taking in the
readiness reports as they came in.

	Chiharu watched the older woman curiously, her sharp eyes taking in
the flag officer's posture and bearing to find a good example of how to
behave in such a crisis. She found she couldn't, and this was the biggest
surprise she'd gotten in her weeks of training and studying for the role of
Sailor Mars. The thought of Matthews, up there and responsible for the
defense of all Luna, and by proxy the entire Moon Kingdom, was simply too
large a concept for her to embrace. For the first time, she felt a little
tight knot in her stomach, one she couldn't attribute to hunger or cramps.
She was afraid. Terrified.

	She quite literally jumped out of her seat as klaxons began to
blare. Blushing slightly, she looked around and found nobody seemed to have
noticed her flinch at all. Breathing a quick sigh of relief, she sat back
down, glancing back at the status screens, which were one by one becoming
ringed with red, then behind her.

	"Attention please," came the light, cool soprano of the command
center's talker. "Regular duty personnel should report to their stations
immediately. Say again, all regular duty personnel should report to their
stations immediately and stand by for Alert Status Beta." From Chiharu's
viewpoint, she could see the talker--identified as she was by being in the
leftmost seat of the first row of consoles in the balcony--lean back in her
seat and reach for a mug of something.

	Chiharu sighed and prepared herself to leave. While a senshi-to-be,
this was most emphatically not her regular duty station, and whoever
normally manned this console would doubtless come in running from wherever
they'd been. So, she--

	"Senshi on deck. Sailors Mercury and Jupiter arriving." The barest
of pauses. "Sailor Jupiter has the watch. Sailor Mars arriving."

	"Hm, this must've kicked over an anthill," Chiharu muttered,
folding her hands behind her head and jostling her own headset slightly out
of position. Glancing back at the screens, she saw the objects, whatever
they were, had now passed the Moon, and were back out on their way to
harmlessly exit the solar system. Her eyes glanced over to a different
overlay, one which plotted the projectiles' track over the various ships and
orbital stations, but a new, deep baritone in her ear surprised her.

	"Kanazawa-san?"

	She blinked. "Uh, yeah?"

	"Can you come up to the Nest, please?"

	Chiharu blinked again, both at the request, and the way it was
phrased. It *was* a request, after all, and not an order. Legally she could
be ordered about, but for whatever reason she hadn't been. "Right. I'm on my
way." She stood briskly, tugging down her tunic in what she hoped was an
adult manner, but which still, despite her best efforts looked like a child
putting on her mother's uniform to try it out, and threaded her way up to
the balcony.

	In spite of the well-designed aisles, she found herself twisting and
turning to get to the wider, center aisle running from the front of the
chamber to the back. Once there, though, she was able to proceed almost at a
run to the short, steep--very steep, almost as steep as the ladders of a
starship--steps leading to the balcony.

	The balcony, or as it was more colloquially known, the Nest,
presently held nine people, but three of them held all Chiharu's attention.
They were, after all, the only ones in the room wearing brightly colored
miniskirts.

	"Ah, Chiharu. Good that you're here." Sailor Mercury gave the girl a
small smile as she stood with hands folded behind her back. "I was a bit
worried that we were boring you here, but it seems we have some excitement."

	Next to her, Sailor Mars nodded. There was no trace of irony in her
eyes as she addressed her successor. "As best as we can tell, this is
similar to whatever took out the park dome a couple days ago."

	Chiharu felt a tingle down her spine, a singular rush of fear at the
prospect of another attack from much too far to retaliate. She swallowed
lightly, though, feeling three pairs of eyes squarely on her. The senshi
wouldn't have pulled her there just to tell her what she already knew. So
the question became, why? "I... um." She glanced back up to the monitors,
and narrowed her eyes. "It was a clean miss, right?"

	"Yes," confirmed Sailor Mercury.

	"But the first incident... the first attack, rather... was very
precisely targeted."

	"As far as we can tell, yes."

	The young girl looked between all three senshi, then nodded. "So the
odds are that this was targeted too... what else is in the path?"

	Sailor Jupiter sighed and spoke for the first time. "HMS Furuhata
was maneuvering in the area through which it passed before we detected it.
We haven't been able to hail her."

	Chiharu's brown locks flew as her gaze snapped back to the screens,
frowning deeply. "Do you know--"

	"No idea," cut in Sailor Mars. "We presume she's not been hit, or
else we'd have a debris cloud on radar. On the other hand, we don't know
exactly where she is." The senshi shrugged helplessly, "There's really no
way of knowing."

	The girl nearly asked, "What *do* you do know?" but she'd learned
enough in the last few weeks *not* to ask. The outgoing planet senshi
plainly believed in teaching by experience, and the best way to do that was
to make their proteges answer the hard questions on their own. Whether or
not they came up with the right answer wasn't quite as important as thinking
for themselves to come up with an answer. So instead, she pondered.

	Taking little heed of this, the three senshi took some steps from
the girl, looking out over the railing at the sudden beehive of activity the
room had become. "Telescopes aren't finding anything. That's a bit ominous,"
noted Sailor Jupiter quietly.

	"Perhaps," agreed Sailor Mercury in an equally soft voice. "Or
perhaps it's encouraging. If Furuhata's turned point-on to us, it would be a
much smaller footprint to find, and it could mean she's maneuvering to steer
clear."

	Jupiter rolled her eyes. Mercury shrugged, and the auburn-haired
senshi couldn't help but retort. "Really, there's no way they could possibly
have seen it and reacted in time." She sighed, allowing herself the rare
luxury of rubbing her forehead against an incipient headache. "So, do we
wait for her, or do it ourselves?"

	Sailor Mercury simply quirked an eyebrow and turned to Sailor Mars.
"Well?"

	The senshi of fire simply smiled wryly, despite the situation,
privately amused at how they reverted to their old roles, even at such a
time as this. She glanced over at the 'her' in question, who was scratching
her head absently. "I think she's got it." Her heels clicked on the metal
deck plating as she walked over to Chiharu. "Haven't you?" she asked
directly.

	Chiharu blinked in a bit of surprise. "I, um... well. I'm not sure
what you mean. I suppose... well, the logical thing to do would be to send
another ship out there to investigate, wouldn't it?"

	Sailor Mars's violet eyes showed neither approval nor condemnation
as she blinked. "Why?"

	The brunette relaxed. She was used to giving justifications for her
answers. "Time saving. It'll take time for long-range sensors or probes to
get into position, and then more time once you figure out what's happened
and how to respond. Sending a simple multipurpose craft could save precious
seconds."

	"Perhaps. But you're not concerned about fuel?"

	Chiharu shook her head quickly. "Fuel isn't a problem at all in the
inner system."

	"And the possibility of more projectiles?"

	"Um." Chiharu bit lightly on her lower lip, rather cutely in Mars's
opinion. "That could be a problem . . . but then again, it doesn't matter,
does it? If Furuhata needs help, she needs help, and that makes all other
considerations meaningless. We absolutely need a shuttle out there, at the
least."

	Sailor Mars stood silent for another long, pregnant moment, then
nodded. "I agree. Do it."

	Chiharu's blink of surprise was mirrored in the eyes of the other
two senshi. "Me?"

	"Yes, you." She smiled thinly, handing the girl one of the
ubiquitous black headsets. "Your call."

	"I, uh... okay." She slipped it over her head quickly, before she
had a chance to question Sailor Mars's order further. She noted absently as
the cool plastic slid over her hair that she'd seen a red glyph on the
earpiece, small but definitely noticeable: the astrological sign for Mars.
She pondered this, even as she slipped the small controller onto her belt.
This, at least, she'd practiced a number of times in simulators, playing the
role of a captain or admiral in a major engagement.

	The problem, thought Chiharu absently as she almost automatically
thumbed herself into the proper command channels, was that she wasn't in the
chain of command. Truth be told, she really had no right to be there, and
was present only as a guest.

	However.

	An alternate interpretation, and one which had been used before, was
to view Chiharu as a second Sailor Mars. In point of fact, she would be
eventually, but not yet. As such, she had all the legal powers of a senshi,
including giving orders to the search and rescue ships which were kept on
standby twenty-four hours a day, ready to launch on a literal moment's
notice. She cleared her throat, subconsciously straightening her posture,
and feeling far older than her fourteen years. "Last reported position of
HMS Furuhata?"

	At the tactical section, Commander Seiji Ishikawa didn't raise an
eyebrow. "HMS Furuhata sent her last message at six-four-four by
twenty-seven by zero-niner-six, twenty-eight minutes ago. There's too much
background interference to pin her down now."

	Chiharu blinked, speaking before any of the senshi could ask the
same question. "Interference?"

	"It started right after the event," chimed in Commander Mai
Katsumata, the communications officer. "I suspect they're related, in fact;
there was a spike in H+ emissions-"

	"Never mind that," interrupted Chiharu, waving a hand dismissively.
"Just let me know if the radiation reaches dangerous levels. In the
meantime, have the ready section launch and check out Furuhata's condition.
Do we have a fix on the source of the projectiles?"

	Ishikawa shook his head. "No, ma... no." He grimaced, his back to
Chiharu; he was in no way sure how he should address someone who wasn't yet
a senshi. Privately he berated himself for not staying awake through that
particular briefing. "Best we can establish is that it's definitely from
outside the ecliptic, but other than that . . . ."

	"Oh." Chiharu's shoulders slouched very slightly in disappointment,
but she remembered a frequent admonition of Sailor Neptune's and made sure
not to show any of it. "I see, then . . . well, keep working on it."

	"Ready shuttle away," remarked the talker, spinning in her chair to
glance at her ersatz superior. "Any further orders for them?"

	The brunette glanced at the three senshi questioningly. Sailor
Jupiter shook her head. "No," said Chiharu. She sighed and sank into one of
the few chairs which was left available. Silently, she looked back to Sailor
Jupiter, wordlessly asking if she'd done well. The auburn-haired senshi
pondered this for a long moment, almost too long for Chiharu's liking,
before finally shrugging and giving the smallest of nods.

	Chiharu smiled, very slightly, and let her shoulders slump more.
Stressful, nerve wracking, and utterly fun!

	Her subsequent cry of glee was, given the serious atmosphere of
Royal Star Navy Fleet Headquarters, jarring to say the least.


Giogiano's Restaurant
Mare Tranquillitatis, Luna
12:45 Lunar Standard Time
18 August 3043

	Eileen giggled around a mouthful of fettuccine alfredo. "And that's
how I got her to admit baseball was a legit sport. Weird, huh?"

	Marybeth nodded with a wry grin, biting back her envy as she watched
Eileen pack away the rich--and expensive, she remembered from her glance at
the menu--pasta. "You wouldn't think it would work."

	"You wouldn't, would you?" agreed Eileen. She smiled, leaning back
against the comfortable plush padding of her seat. They were virtually alone
in the upscale restaurant; Giogiano's prices meant that any lunches there
were usually of the power variety, and few wanted to do that sort of work on
a Friday. In that respect, Eileen reflected, Lunarians really weren't all
that different from Americans.

	"But you have to get into her head," Eileen continued, her fingers
playing with her slim, mostly empty wineglass. "She can be maddeningly
logical at times, and the key is to turn that logic back on her. She'll
usually just get pissed and write it off as trickery, but deep down she
knows when she's beaten."

	Marybeth chuckled softly. "You sound like you've got her pinned down
perfectly." She took another sip of the wine and smiled. "I know I've said
it before, but I'm really glad you two get on together so well."

	Eileen nodded. "Thanks." She sighed happily, then blinked as a
waiter appeared as it by magic at her side to refill her wineglass. She
caught her mother's eye, and both women giggled. "Great service here," she
remarked once he'd withdrawn.

	"Oh, definitely. Are you sure you've never been here?"

	"Of course, Mom. I mean, I haven't even been back here since we left
back in 3035." Both sighed softly, almost by reflex. "Anyway, I asked Sailor
Cassiopeia if there were any good places I could go for lunch, and this is
what she came up with."

	Marybeth shrugged. "I certainly can't complain about the service.
And the linguine is the best I've ever had . . . well, aside from your Aunt
Gina's. Hers was just perfect."

	"How is she?"

	"Oh, she's hanging in there. Up in years, though . . . close to
ninety, now." She sighed, a bit more deeply, and Eileen tried not to notice
the hairs at Marybeth's temples. "She hasn't been the same since her kidney
regen. She's on a waiting list for a clinic in Prague, but you know how
those things are."

	Eileen blinked. "Waiting list? Um . . . no, I don't know what you're
talking about. I'd heard there were health issues in America, but, well."

	Her mother nodded slowly. "Understandable; you've been away so long,
and I doubt the news agencies bother covering it very closely. Ever since
the war, we've really been in a fix medically. The best trained doctors and
surgeons went overseas." She shrugged slightly. "Can't blame 'em, really;
with our economy in the tank, they could get paid a lot more for going
somewhere else."

	Eileen nodded, her brown eyes cast down in understanding. The war of
3035 had affected no confederation as much as it had North America. Even
now, nearly ten years later, it was a telling sign that economic assistance
alone was enough to convince Vancouver to allow Eileen's parents to visit
Luna. "Shortage of doctors?"

	"And nurses, and hospitals, and supplies." Marybeth shook her head
slowly. "There are parts of the confederation little better off than Africa,
not that the current government likes to advertise it."

	"I suppose not," said Eileen slowly. She didn't add that the current
NAC government was light years more progressive than its predecessor, which
many still held responsible for starting the war.

	"So," said Marybeth after having another sip of what even her
uneducated palate told her was rather good wine, "it's next to impossible to
get decent medical care back home, and the waiting lists for treatment
outside the confederation are miles long unless you've got the cash."

	Eileen scratched her head. "Why didn't you tell me about this
sooner? I'm sure I could have arranged something; heaven knows I've got
enough clout dirt side, might as well put it to some use."

	For several long moments, the room was silent, but for the soft din
of the lunchtime crowd in the rest of the restaurant was audible through the
glass doors which separated the VIP seating from the more cozy, crowded,
cramped tables which were more reminiscent of a bistro than a high-class
restaurant. Eileen's mother sighed softly, considering her words carefully.
"We'd thought about that. Almost told you, too, but . . . ." She wrung her
hands for a moment, looking down at her lap. "You were two hundred light
years away, dearie. I guess in the end we rationalized ourselves out of it,
especially when it would have meant depending on the Empire to save her."

	"I see." And she did. Pearcy family pride wouldn't have them
beholden to anyone for anything . . . except for their own family members.
She swallowed lightly. "You know, Mom . . . I may have been under Serenity
for the last thirteen years, but I'm still a Pearcy."

	Marybeth winced. "I know, dear, and I never meant to say you
weren't. And really, if it was up to me, I'd have rung you anyway. There
were others in the family, though . . . you really have been gone a long
time. And you don't exactly write them every day."

	Eileen scowled. "Oh, come on. I write to the whole family every year
at Christmas."

	"And other than that?"

	"Erm . . . well, there was that one time I sent a letter to Uncle
Bernie."

	"That was three years ago."

	"It still counts," Eileen retorted defensively. Her mother's silence
spoke volumes. "Okay, so I don't write as often as I should. I'd still have
bent over backward to help her out, and everyone must know it . . . right?"

	Marybeth glanced at her watch before answering, then frowned as she
remembered it hadn't been reset to Lunar Standard. "Yes and no," she hedged.
"The bottom line is that we didn't tell you. I'm sorry."

	Eileen sighed. "Well. Now I know, and I'll damned well lean on Her
Majesty until she does something about Aunt Gina."

	"Wouldn't that be abuse of powers?"

	"You bet!" Eileen grinned, wiping away her earlier mood in an
instant. "What's the point of having clout if you don't use it, huh?"

	Her mother smiled wryly and shrugged. "If you say so. I just don't
want you getting into any trouble."

	"Come on, Mom! Considering all the other crap I've gotten into since
I became a senshi, I hardly think talking the Queen into cutting my aunt
some help will be all that bad. 'Sides, she won't say no to me." She
grinned, then leaned back and stretched in her chair. "Dessert?"

	Marybeth sighed wistfully, looking at the remains of what for Eileen
had been a rather large, and for Marybeth rather small, lunch. "I really do
envy your way of burning calories like a wildfire. I'd be a blimp if I ate
as much as you do."

	The younger brunette shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Another one of
the perks. Okay, I won't make you watch me devour a hot fudge sundae or
three. Wanna hit the malls? You wouldn't *believe* the stuff they've got
here, especially--"

	They chatted on, paying and then departing. An outside observer
would have found little difference between them and any other teenage
daughter dragging her rather bemused mother around from boutique to
boutique.


Indigo's Intimates
Mare Tranquillitatis, Luna
18 August 3043
14:09 Lunar Standard Time

	Achika blinked, looking up from the pair of sheer white panties with
tiny red polka dots she'd been inspecting. "Um, Hatsu-chan?"

	"Yeah?" The future Sailor Neptune peeked up from behind another
rack, this one having a variety of rather creatively-designed garter belts.

	"Was that Eileen Pearcy who just walked out of here?"

	Hatsuyo craned her head to look out of the store. The two brunettes
receding down the broad central walkway of the mall weren't exactly
recognizable, but at least one of them sported a ponytail. "I s'pose it
could be."

	The green-haired girl nodded quickly before returning to her
perusal. "I was looking at them while they were in the shop across the way.
I'm pretty sure it was her." She frowned slightly. "I guess I'm just a bit
surprised. Pearcy-san . . . Eileen-chan?" She glanced for confirmation at
Hatsuyo, who simply shrugged. "Anyway, what with all the wedding
preparations, I figured she'd be too busy to go shopping."

	"You mean like we are?" Hatsuyo grinned, then blinked as she noticed
another rack some distance away. She was to it in a flash, quickly looking
through the corsets. Achika wrinkled her brows; why anyone would voluntarily
constrict their abdomen in such a way was beyond her, but apparently the
fashion was catching on here in the capital. "Speaking of which, you know
we've got another rehearsal tomorrow."

	"Another one?" whined Achika. Her shoulders slumped in resignation.
"Didn't we just have one?"

	Hatsuyo shook her head, checking the prices on the corsets and
wincing at the number of zeros. "Nope. It got canceled for that Fleet alert,
remember?"

	"Oh yeah, that." Achika scratched her head absently, the panties
momentarily forgotten. "That was pretty scary."

	"Nah, it wasn't nothing." Hatsuyo smiled, her lower-class accent
becoming more deliberately pronounced. "Rescue missions happen a lot around
here, though usually they're picking up dumbass Terran crews that can't
figure out how to close an airlock properly."

	Achika shrugged slightly. "I don't know. It certainly seemed
important enough."

	"Only because it was the flagship. And it turned out there was no
serious damage, just the outrigging and one of the launch catapults."

	"And ten people."

	Hatsuyo hmmed to herself, looking back at one of the corsets and
holding it against herself, glancing into a mirror to compare. "Do you like
this one better, or the powder blue one?" she asked, turning this way and
that as the pure white garment rustled against her.

	Achika blinked. "I think the powder blue one is a bit better."

	"Right, I thought so too. Anyway, yes it's ten people, but fifty-two
people died when HMS Terrible's forward power room blew. Things can always
be worse." She shrugged, then straightened and stretched out. "Think I'm
heartless?"

	Her partner shook her head slowly. "Well, I wouldn't think so. I
mean . . . it's just I . . . ." Achika sighed and tried to get her thoughts
in order. "Where I come from, Hinansho, we don't have such accidents. It's
pretty quiet . . . the worst disaster since the alien invasion was a
three-car pileup on the Nagano-3 Loop. I'm . . . people dying isn't
something I'm used to."

	Hatsuyo walked over, her blue eyes unusually serious. "Um, news
flash, Achika. People die, and odds are we're the ones who'll be ordering
them off to do it. Didn't you pick that up in the simulators?"

	Achika winced at the reminder. The simulators had been brutal,
putting them in almost every situation a senshi might encounter, and almost
universally resulting in their deaths and the deaths of others. It had gone
from disheartening to humorous to utterly depressing, and it was definitely
not an experience she was likely to forget. "I know, I know. But there's a
difference between watching people die in a simulator, and watching the
caskets come home in person."

	It was Hatsuyo's turn to wince, for Achika had drawn the unpleasant
duty of being up at three in the morning that day, present with Sailor
Uranus as the bodies of the ten victims arrived at the Mare Crisium
spaceport. "Sorry," she said a bit brusquely. "But people die sometimes, and
we're going to have to deal with it. And trust me, it isn't an unusual
experience around here."

	"That doesn't make it any better."

	"Of course not!" Hatsuyo smiled more confidently than she felt.
"What is it Sailor Mercury is always saying? 'When you become accustomed to
death, you're far more dangerous to your teammates than your enemies.' Or
something like that." She shrugged, "'Sides, I never said it doesn't bother
me. Just that you're making a bigger deal of it than it really is."

	"Oh?" She hmphed in an eerie imitation of Jennifer, and the two
remained silent while they made their purchases. Both tried not to boggle at
the tallies, and managed--with some difficulty--to keep their mouths from
dropping open until after they'd walked out with their large Indigo's
Intimates shopping bags. "Kami, I didn't know it would be so expensive."

	Hatsuyo grimaced. "Tell me about it. I'd never have even walked into
a place like Indigo's before now." She sighed wistfully, swinging her bag
slightly as they walked through the mall. It was a typical mall, with white
marble floors, shops and boutiques to either side, and arched glass windows
for a roof. At present they were dark, which was unsurprising; they looked
out on the blackness of space.

	Achika blinked blankly. "You'd never been there before?"

	"Nope."

	"Funny, you were the one showing me around."

	"I'd seen a show on it a few months ago. It's the newest lingerie
shop in Tranquillitatis, it's already setting fashion trends all over the
Kingdom."

	That, Achika could believe. Luna had long been the fashion capital
as well as the political and economic, and she was accustomed to looking
through the magazines and catalogs from the Mare Tranquillitatis fashion
houses. "Surely you could have at least window-shopped."

	"Me?" Hatsuyo laughed. "They'd have taken a look at my clothes--or
for that matter, heard my accent--and said to hell with me. Working-class
girls don't get to breathe the air in places like that."

	"Um." Achika frowned slightly, her pace slowing just a bit. "That
doesn't sound too nice."

	The blue-haired girl shrugged, stopping to look into a shoe store.
"You get used to it. Things around here aren't as nice and polite as out in
the colonies, y'know?"

	"I think I liked Hinansho better, in a way. There are just so many
people here . . . and nowhere where I can be outdoors."

	Hatsuyo scratched her head absently. "How about the parks? There are
lots of them."

	Her companion shook her head. "It's not really the same. What I
really want is to go back to Earth, but I doubt we'd be allowed to." She
sighed deeply. "Oh well. I suppose parks will have to do."

	"Hey, hey!" Hatsuyo gave Achika a curious look. "Aren't you
forgetting Mars and Venus?"

	"No, I'm not." Achika sighed and leaned against a marble wall,
watching the passers-by. For their part, they were few and far between, and
paid no attention to the two girls in RSN uniform. "Venus is too hot, and
Mars is still pretty dry."

	Hatsuyo nodded slightly. "And cold."

	Achika smiled and shook her head, drumming her fingers against the
wall. "No, cold I can handle. I think a Hinansho winter would be enough to
send most Martians scurrying indoors for their EVA gear. No, it's just the
dry weather that would get to me. It's so arid."

	"They're working on it."

	"Just like they're working on Venus and the humidity?"

	Hatsuyo shrugged. "It's not so bad once you get used to it. Great
place to vacation... just don't tell Sakura I said that."

	Achika giggled and nodded slightly, pushing herself back off the
wall and resuming her slow walk. Hatsuyo followed soon after. "Don't worry,
I won't." She pondered a moment. "I really do wish you two wouldn't argue so
much."

	The two reached the center of the mall, and by unspoken agreement
sat at a bench, one of many surrounding a small group of trees, shrubs, and
flowers. All grew under a rather large circular glass dome, covering the
round hub of the mall from which ran five spokes, each leading off into
the distance. Here, in a sort of food court, their senses were assailed with
the sights and smells of all manner of cuisine. Both girls' stomachs growled
in unison, and both smiled a bit sheepishly.

	"It's not something I can explain, really," began Hatsuyo a bit
slowly, her eyes roaming about all the various restaurants and food stands.
"We just have conflicting personalities . . . what do you think about
ramen?"

	Achika wrinkled her nose in a bit of distaste. "Too ordinary. And
not filling enough; I think I can manage some teriyaki." She crossed her
legs. "And we're too small a group to have personality conflicts."

	"Says who?"

	"Sakachi-sensei."

	"Oh, please. Like they really understand the dynamics of our little
band of geniuses."

	A slight shrug. "They must know *something*. After all, they put us
all together and expected us to work together."
{bookmark}
	Hatsuyo blew a sigh. "Sure, but it's gonna take years, if not
decades. Look at the original senshi for comparison."

	"But they weren't built from the ground up . . . ." Both sighed this
time. It was a common enough discussion, and there was as of yet no solution
to it. A few moments passed in silence.

	"So."

	"Yeah?"

	"Food?"

	"Oh, yeah. S'pose we should do something about that. Seafood?"

	Achika pondered a moment, then nodded. "Okay. I haven't had any
decent fish in a few days." She glanced about, finding a small seafood
restaurant, then blinked as a familiar figure came into sight. Very familiar,
as two meter tall black women were decidedly rare on Luna. "Hey, there's
Sharifa-chan."

	"Here?" Hatsuyo sat up a bit straighter, her blue eyes open in
surprise. "Didn't think she went for malls and junk."

	"Neither did I," admitted Achika. She watched as Sharifa caught
sight of them and swung in their direction. "She looks happy about
something."

	Hatsuyo shrugged. "Hiya Sharifa-chan. We were just about to grab
something to eat."

	Sharifa blinked at them, in the middle of taking a bite from an
oversized cookie a good ten centimeters in diameter. She smiled warmly as
she worked on chewing the morsel, shifting the wax paper wrapping of the
oatmeal raisin cookie. "Hello Hatsuyo, Achika. Odd meeting you two here."

	"We were just saying the same thing," answered Hatsuyo. "What's got
you so happy?"

	The brown-skinned woman smiled slightly. "Oh, I just called my
parents. It's always nice to speak to them."

	Achika gave a little nod in understanding. As far as she knew, she
and Sharifa were the only ones who still contacted their parents every day.
Granted, in Achika's case it was a letter and not the face-to-face call
Sharifa made, but at least it was something. Takeshi, she knew, contacted
his sister regularly. Sakura and Chiharu seemed to be in irregular contact.
Hatsuyo, oddly, seemed never to mention her family at all. "Anything new
there?"

	Sharifa sat next to the pair and shook her head. "Not really. My
father's been tied up in a tariff test case, it's taking up all his time.
The rest of the family's been okay, mostly."

	"Cool," said Hatsuyo. She grinned, "So, seafood good enough for
you?"

	Sharifa had taken another bite of her cookie, and waited again to
swallow it before she replied. "Oh, definitely. I'm afraid lobster isn't too
common a meal back home."

	Achika scratched her head a bit nervously. "Um. We didn't really
have anything that fancy in mind. Maybe some sushi?"

	"Oh." Sharifa ate the remainder of her cookie in silence, a slight
unmistakable smile of relish curling her lips. "I suppose sushi isn't so
bad. Lobster can wait until another time, right?"

	"Right," agreed Achika, hopping to her feet and taking hold of her
bag. 

	The rustle of the bag drew Sharifa's attention downward. "Oh, you
were shopping? What did you get?"

	"Hm? Oh, just some little things," said Hatsuyo dismissively. She
stood as well, looking in her bag and looking through it. "Panties, bras,
that sort of thing . . . oh, and this absolutely gorgeous corset."

	Sharifa blinked. "Corset?"

	"Yeah. I'll try it on for you later, but right now I'm starving!"
She strode to the sushi stand, helpfully named Shigematsu's Sushi. "Oh yeah,
we've got more zero-g training tomorrow. Sailor Saturn told me to remind
everyone."

	The green-haired girl sighed as she followed Sharifa and Hatsuyo.
"Again? I'm really starting to hate those."

	"No helping it." Hatsuyo shrugged her shoulders, swinging her
purchases along as she went to the counter. "Especially with the exercise on
Vulcan coming up. That's . . . what, next week?"

	"Right." Sharifa smiled at the man behind the counter, placing
orders for all three. The other two girls simply waited; Sharifa had, among
other things, a superb mind for details, and it hadn't taken her long to
memorize their favorite sushi styles. "They're really ramping up training;
we'll be working weekends soon enough. I think Sailors Saturn and Pluto are
starting to feel a bit pressed for time."

	"I don't see why," remarked Achika as they waited for the sushi to
be rolled. "There are still a couple weeks until the wedding, which I think
was the target date?"

	"Yeah, but that's way less than any other senshi've gotten. Except
the original, and that was the whole trial by fire thing." Hatsuyo grinned
impishly as she leaned against the glass case displaying the various sushi
rolls available.

	Sharifa nodded. "If you ask me, I think it was a mistake rushing us
so quickly. Do we really *have* to preside over Sakachi-san and Pearcy-san's
wedding? I mean, I can understand the political implications--"

	"Political implications?"

	"Political implications."


European Union Embassy
Mare Crisium, Luna
20 August 3043
12:40 Lunar Standard Time

	The ambassador to the European Union from the Moon Kingdom looked
across the table at his counterpart, both their faces reflecting palely in
the space black surface. With a scowl, he picked up his cream-colored pawn
and advanced it forward a single square.

	Mariano Penzatti, European ambassador to Luna, tsked. "Not a good
move, Eisaku."

	Eisaku shrugged, not taking his eyes from the chessboard. "Perhaps,
perhaps not. The way you're playing, it's not as if it can hurt me too
much."

	"HA!" Mariano's lean, tanned face curled into a smile at the
friendly barb. The Italian had quickly become a friend of Eisaku's, and the
two frequently met for both business and personal reasons. Much to the
Lunarian's regret, Mariano's handsome looks were solely directed at the
women of Mare Crisium, and some of Mariano's diplomatic colleagues had gone
so far as to ask he desist from pursuing them so relentlessly. Despite this,
they had become fast friends.

	"You know," said Mariano after a few moments' contemplation of the
board, "the President is still undecided on how to reply to the invitation
you sent."

	"Really?" Eisaku looked curiously at Mariano. "I thought you said he
was rather happy."

	"And he is. He loves parties, trust me. No, the thing is that he's
not sure what the official response of the European Union should be."

	"Official response?"

	"Yes. The President rather fancies himself as quite the orator, you
see. Figuring out just what type of flowery language to use is very
important to him, and he's driving all London crazy with variously leaked
comments to gage their reaction."

	Eisaku blinked twice, sure he must have misunderstood something. "I
take it simply extending his congratulations and best wishes, coupled with
his pleasure of attending, would be asking too much?"

	Mariano shook his head rapidly. "No, my friend, not too much, but
too little. He fears offending Her Majesty and her senshi by not heaping
enough praise upon them."

	"So he wants to kiss ass."

	The Italian gave a most expressive shrug.  "In so many words.
Listen, at the most we Europeans are your best allies. Southeast Asia's
space program has never been able to match ours, and the other
confederations are too poor to mount serious efforts. For that matter, the
Americans are still pouring what little money they can spare into that black
hole of a mobile suit project!"

	Eisaku advanced his bishop in an attempt to put some pressure on
Mariano and win himself some breathing room. Unfortunately, the Italian was
having none of it, contemptuously ignoring the piece to press his own
attack. Eisaku sighed, then looked around cautiously. Aside from a naval
commander two benches away, their corner of the small park inside the
embassy was empty. "Mobile suits?" he asked in a quieter voice.

	Mariano shrugged again. "Our military attache in Vancouver has
gotten some sniffs about a new R&D project they're working on. Something
like a very large powered armor suit."

	"Odd, I hadn't heard anything about it."

	"Not surprising, since you don't *have* anyone in Vancouver."

	"Good point. But as long as our conservative elements continue to
oppose it . . . ."

	The Italian man shrugged, clearly unwilling to voice disapproval
with internal politics. Both men tended to avoid criticism of the others'
governments, at least when their jobs didn't require it. Even when, as in
this case, both men realized the continued refusal to establish formal ties
with North America was bordering on foolish.

	Eisaku's board position was becoming perilous. The number of threats
he had to face was growing, and he could feel Mariano's trap closing in.
"There is another matter our conservatives feel strongly about, however.
They're adamant that there should be no technology transfers between us at
all."

	Mariano perked up at this. "What? But that was a major part of the
deal the President arrived at on his visit!"

	Eisaku nodded. "Right. But the conservatives," he was careful not to
refer to the outgoing planet senshi by name, "think aiding a former enemy
would be a sign of weakness.

	"Now, you and I both know that's bull; giving you aid, especially
with regard to future projects like Concorde, would be one of the smartest
things we could do. It would reward you for years of trustworthiness, and a
symbol of what other confederations can expect if they do the same. But they
see it as apostasy."

	"Then in that case, I agree even more with Her Majesty's removal of
them."

	The only sound to break the silence for a long moment was the soft
clink as Mariano captured a pawn, neatly forking king and queen. Eisaku's
mouth worked for several long moments before he finally found his voice. "I
beg your pardon?" he asked in what he hoped was a calm tone.

	Mariano smiled slightly, leaning back and letting his friend try to
puzzle his way out of the situation. "You needn't worry. I suspect only a
dozen or so in my government are aware, and as far as we know, only the
Chinese have an idea otherwise. Suffice to say that we found the timing of
the planet senshi's retirement . . . suspicious."

	"I see," Eisaku said flatly.

	"I'm glad you do." Mariano shrugged slightly. "And it still leaves
my words unchanged. President Wernberg was very pleased when he found the
senshi were outgoing. It gives him, and me, the opportunity to express our
hopes that we can establish closer ties. In particular, we'd love it if an
arrangement for the construction of a number of Concorde-type ships could be
made."

	Eisaku toyed with his king, wobbling it back and forth with a
fingertip, undecided as to whether to tip it over. "I read over a brief
summary of the incident you had with your ship. The conclusion was that
while you'd made a number of key errors in your Katajisto physics research,
you were only a year or two away from ironing out those kinks and having a
working drive. Why would you need our help?"

	Mariano chuckled. "For one, it would shave off that year or two. For
another . . . we have some outposts in the outer system. But we want . . .
no, let us be honest, we *need* more. Our population is increasing, in part
to the medical technology transfers you've already allowed, and we're
running out of space. Your people have snapped up all the close colony
worlds, true, but we'll take something that isn't close at this point."

	A frown creased Eisaku's smooth face. "Are things really that bad?"

	"Not yet. But we predict they will be, soon. We're the dominant
confederation right now, and we're getting a lot of immigration. We're also
getting a lot of nasty looks from our neighbors, and so we're trying to
prepare for any conflict as quickly and quietly as we can." He sighed. "Even
so, that'll mean an increased space presence as we bring more factories and
refineries online . . . and honestly, now, we had enough of land-based
combat last time. We'd prefer any war take place in deep space, where
there's the least chance of a civilian being harmed."

	Eisaku hmmed to himself, then let his shoulders slump. With his
queen gone, what was already a precarious position became downright
hopeless. With a little sigh, he knocked over his king, conceding the match,
and bowed his head graciously to his opponent. "Good game. You know Her
Majesty has no interest in becoming party to another global war."

	Mariano smiled easily. "And I assure you the president has no
intentions of asking Her Majesty to assist, in the unhappy event that there
is one. Still, I think we can agree that of the choices on the table down on
Earth, ours is the most attractive, no?" Eisaku nodded grudgingly. 

	"Please understand," continued the Italian ambassador, "we aren't
asking for military aid of any kind. I'm told by people who know more about
these things than I that we can figure out such things on our own. Simply
technical assistance to get us into space that much sooner."

	"Your proposal is interesting, of course." Eisaku began putting away
the chess set; it was growing late in the afternoon, and both had things to
which to attend. "But what can you offer in return?"

	"You could help us out with North America."

	Eisaku blinked at the apparent non sequitur. "North America?"

	Mariano nodded. "I'm sure you keep track of things there, at least
in a broad context if not specifics. It's a mess there, Eisaku. Our more
pessimistic analyses have them at Africa's level in a few generations unless
something drastic happens. More realistically, it won't take long before
some overly ambitious man or woman in America realizes this and decides to
take . . . shall we say, drastic measures to avert this? No-one in Europe
wants a return to American aggression."

	"I see." Eisaku pursed his lips, not quite willing to confirm that
this was the precise conclusion the Royal Intelligence Service had come up
with. "And just how can we--and you, of course--prevent this from
happening?"

	"Oh, that's simplest of all. We're well aware of Her Majesty's
efforts, and those of Serenity I before her, to see to Africa and improve it
however possible?"

	"Well, yes." Crown projects in Africa were perhaps the only thing
keeping it from total and utter collapse, such as it was. They'd been
curtailed in recent years, though, as the Moon Kingdom continued to cast its
gaze outward. "You're not suggesting we do the same in America, are you?"

	Mariano shook his head slightly. "No, not quite. I had something
more ambitious in mind. We'd have to put even more money into loans for
infrastructure replacement, technology transfers, medical assistance . . .
and make sure that the proper people in Vancouver get credit for it."

	Eisaku nodded slowly in understanding. "You mean moderates."

	"Moderates, conservatives . . . whoever's necessary to keep the NAC
from turning aggressor again."  Mariano smiled cheerfully, cracking his
knuckles as he stretched. "I think our combined efforts in this regard,
especially when we agree to foot the majority of the bill, will be worthy of
compensation by Her Majesty."

	"I don't know . . . that's a lot of money. I'll have to talk to the
treasury." He sighed softly. "I think we'll definitely need to confer about
it, but even so, it'll be more reason to have the senshi at the wedding. It
should be a valuable show of force, if nothing else."

	"Fair enough. We can hammer out the details later."

	"Of course." Eisaku stood, flexing his fingers. "How about lunch? My
treat."

	"Sounds good to me. If you don't mind, there's this lovely Italian
place I visited . . . ."


Observation Room 12
Mare Crisium
23 August 3043
09:09 Lunar Standard Time

	The two women watched in the darkened chamber, their eyes fixed on
the large flat screen display on the wall. The camera point of view was more
than a little shaky, but considering the intense vibrations in the training
room, neither of them could really begrudge it.

	"Takeshi-kun has really improved in this, hasn't he?" said the
Queen, finally.

	Sailor Saturn nodded. "His hand-to-hand combat scores have gone up
twenty percent. I think the extra time he's putting in with Colonel Takizawa
is paying off."

	Serenity nodded and leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms
behind her head, then blinked and sat up abruptly. "You mean he's training
with a Marine colonel?"

	"Not only training, but training well, at least according to the
reports." Saturn smiled slightly and punched up the relevant data, which
scrolled up a sidebar next to the video image. "The Colonel is very
impressed by his work ethic, too. He told me personally that he wished more
of his own troops could be so conscientious."

	"Impressive," murmured Serenity. "How are the others coming along,
though?"

	"Fair to middling. Sharifa-chan and Hatsuyo-chan seem the most
suited to hand-to-hand, though Sakura-chan is surprisingly good as well.
Chiharu-chan and Achika-chan are predictably at the bottom." Saturn shrugged
casually. "They'll come around, eventually. If nothing else, we can be sure
the others won't be crippled by a need to protect them in battle."

	"Mmm. Hotaru-chan?"

	"Yes?"

	"Do you think pushing this hard is a mistake?"

	Sailor Saturn blinked, looking a bit more sharply at her monarch and
fiancee. "A mistake?"

	"Yes. I mean . . . we're trying to teach them so much in so little
time. Maybe we'd have been better served teaching it to them more gradually,
after becoming senshi."

	"Ah. Second thoughts?" She didn't bat an eye as Chiharu's foot flew
through the space Achika's head had occupied the barest second previous.

	Serenity sighed softly. "I wish I knew. I really do. Maybe it's just
that I never had to go through anything close to what they are." She smiled
slightly, watching the ongoing training session and the rather sweaty,
tired, and slightly bruised teenagers who were the subject of it. "I can't
say I envy them, either."

	Sailor Saturn smirked, a display she likely would never have shown
if she hadn't been alone. "Well, you could get away with it. Your job was to
be protected, after all."

	"I like to think I can take care of myself when I have to," said
Serenity with a smile. "Call it setting a good example as commander in
chief."

	"Oh, that's what I like to hear," said Sailor Saturn, before
surrendering and giggling. "You really think we're pushing them too fast?"
she asked in total seriousness.

	Serenity shrugged. "If we were, it's too late to do anything about
it now. Push back their investiture date and we'll send them a loud and
clear message that we don't think they're ready." She squared her shoulders
and looked directly at the senshi. "Are they ready?"

	It was Sailor Saturn's turn to shrug. "I honestly don't know. It
depends on how ready is ready. Can they go out tomorrow and do everything we
do every day? Of course not. Can they defend you in an emergency . . . I'd
like to say yes."

	"But?"

	"But." She sighed. "I just don't know. You never can know, really,
until it really does hit the fan. And by then . . . well." She forced
herself to smile. "You shouldn't worry. We'll have them whipped into the
best shape possible by the first."

	"Mm-hmm." Serenity pondered a moment, then chuckled.

	"What's so funny?"

	"I was just thinking."

	"About?" prompted Sailor Saturn once the queen's pause had reached
uncomfortable lengths.

	"Well. Here I'm worried about making them senshi too soon, but at
the same time . . . mightn't we accelerate the schedule somewhat? Perhaps as
early as, oh, tomorrow?"

	Saturn blinked in some consternation. "You can't be serious."

	"Just thinking about the possibility. What you're teaching them now
is nothing they couldn't be taught later, and you could even get a head
start on the thaumatological end of things."

	"Well, I *could*, yes." The senshi scratched her head, brows knit in
thought. "Whether or not it would necessarily be a good thing--"

	"Call it confidence building."

	Saturn shook her head slowly. "No . . . it's just too soon. You know
that ideally we'd give them a full year. The least we owe them is another
week and a half."

	"Three days?"

	"Week and a half."

	"Three days."

	The senshi sighed, realizing the tone in her queen's voice. "Three
days, then. But under protest."

	The queen giggled. "Oh, of course. I'll make sure the historians a
thousand years from now remember that you were against the idea."

	Saturn smiled reluctantly. "In 4043, I fully expect to be able to
tell the historians myself that I was against the idea."

	"We can hope," agreed Serenity. Her attention returned to the
screen, where it was now Achika's turn to spar with Sakura. "You know,
Eisaku-san spoke to me earlier."

	"Oh?"

	"Oh. The EU is showing interest in possibly partitioning America."

	Saturn frowned slightly. "That wasn't projected to happen so soon."

	Serenity rolled her eyes. "Come on. Pluto's projections are less
than forty percent accurate. Besides, she said herself she wasn't too
confident in this one."

	"Perhaps. It's still sooner than we anticipated."

	"And? It's happened before. Whether or not it's premature, we still
have to follow through with our plan."

	"Even knowing what it will cost?"

	Serenity nodded. "Even so. It will be worth it, and not just for me.
You know that as well as I do."

	Sailor Saturn blew a small sigh, and nodded. "I know. It's just the
uncertainty of it that bothers me. So much can go wrong."

	"So much can go right, too. Trust me, we can do it." She smiled, a
bit more confidently than she felt, and sat back up in her seat. "I'll talk
to Mercury and see how far she's gotten on the senshi programming routines.
It's a complex system, I'm still not sure she's worked out the bugs."

	"Okay." Sailor Saturn sighed and stood. "I've got a staff meeting in
a bit. See you at lunch?"

	"Sure thing." Serenity leaned back in her seat, watching the
remainder of the exercise. "Oh, bring along their mathematics scores, I have
an idea or two on those lines."

	"Of course." The senshi gave the queen a light hug and a rather
passionate kiss before picking up her Glaive from where it had rested in a
corner of the room. "See you then."


Office 9-P
Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
24 August 3043
16:22 Lunar Standard Time

	The knock on the door came as a surprise. Sailor Pluto looked up
from the routine paperwork and stared blankly at the door. It took her a
moment to blink out from thinking through the probabilities, and her finger
tapped a button on the desk quickly. "Yes?"

	"Mind if I come in?"

	Pluto's red eyes narrowed a bit more as she recognized the voice.
"Please do," she said curtly, pushing another button to unlock the door.

	Sailor Venus stepped in looking as bright and cheerful as she always
did, grinning from ear to ear. "Hi!"

	"Hello, Sailor Venus. To what do I owe the honor?"

	The blonde blinked at her cool reception, and her smile grew a bit
more fixed. "I can't drop in to talk to you? I mean, you're hardly ever
around where anyone can find you."

	Pluto nodded, gesturing for Sailor Venus to take a seat in one of
the richly upholstered green armchairs. "I'm usually occupied elsewhere."

	"And elsewhen?" Venus sighed as Pluto refused to rise to the bait,
and she pressed on. "Anyway, I noticed you were in your office."

	"Yes."

	Sailor Venus pouted and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Come
*on*, Pluto, aren't you going to make this the tiniest bit easier for me?"

	"Why are you here?"

	"To pick your brain, actually."

	Sailor Pluto forced herself not to tense at the sudden note of
seriousness in the other senshi's tone. "Oh?"

	"Yeah. Oh." Sailor Venus swung her legs up, resting her sandal-clad
feet on the mahagany of Pluto's desk. "You can start by telling me what you
know about these recent attacks."

	"What makes you think I know anything about it?"

	Venus narrowed her eyes. "Don't play games, Pluto. You always seem
to know *something* about what's going on."

	Pluto sighed. "Sailor Venus, I think we've been through this plenty
of times before. I don't know the future, I only see possible futures, and
they're changing all the time. I could no more tell you what's going on than
I could pick Terran lottery numbers."

	"Damn. I was hoping to clean up in retirement, too." Pluto took a
moment to wonder whether her teammate was serious, but Venus rolled on. "I
still don't buy it, though. You have to know *something*."

	"Don't you think if I knew something I'd have given a warning?"
Sailor Venus said nothing. "Honestly, I wouldn't stay silent if I knew lives
were at stake unless even more could be endangered by my telling."

	"Which only proves that if you did know something, you'd do your
best not to tell me about it."

	Sailor Pluto clenched her fist. "Actually, in those cases I tend to
just vanish. As you can see, I've definitely not disappeared."

	Venus blinked at this, and had to concede she had a point. Pluto
almost never used her office, and it was her very availability which had
drawn her attention. "Okay. I guess that's true . . . given your track
record, though, its pretty hard to believe you really know *nothing*."

	"I don't," she lied simply. "I'm sorry that you feel so paranoid
where I'm concerned, but there's really nothing for me to hide here."

	"I see." Sailor Venus frowned, and she leaned forward in her seat as
her legs dropped down from her desk. "You do realize that if we find out
later you were lying, none of us will ever trust you again."

	Pluto nodded. "Of course." She smiled a bit wryly, reclining in her
chair. "Of course, sometimes I wonder if you ever really trust me at all.
Please believe me, I'm not so aloof and mysterious just for fun."

	"I figured as much." Venus smiled slightly and sat back in her seat.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to jump all over you like that."

	"It's okay. You wouldn't believe how many times Mars or Uranus have
gotten angry at me over things."

	Venus blinked in slight surprise. "Mars I can figure, but Uranus? I
thought you and her were like this?" she asked, intertwining middle and
index fingers of her right hand.

	Sailor Pluto shrugged her shoulders slightly, picking up a handlink
and reading the report she'd set aside when Venus knocked. "And why is
that?"

	"Oh, I don't know." Venus shrugged casually, drumming her fingers on
the armrest of her chair. "I guess you outer senshi always seemed more . . .
together. United. While we inners . . . ." She sighed, feeling the weariness
of her years. "We argued so long, over so many different things. Sometimes I
almost felt like just sending Mars or Her Majesty--or both!--over to the
Dark Kingdom just so I wouldn't have to put up with their squabbles."

	"How reassuring," said Pluto dryly. "Still, those days are long
past."

	"Yeah. Instead we've got the new Venus and new Neptune to worry
about. Talk about your potential for disasters."

	"I thought that at first, but they're inner and outer senshi. Their
contact will steadily grow lesser once they've had the chance to adapt."

	"Aha." Venus let her eyes wander. "Hey, Setsu-chan?"

	"Yes?"

	"How do you feel about Uranus and Neptune?"

	"Outgoing or incoming?" asked Pluto without missing a beat.

	"Um. Incoming, I guess, and outgoing. I mean  . . . I hope this
isn't too much of a personal question, but how do you feel about having to
deal with a couple rookies in the outer senshi?"

	Sailor Pluto firmly sat on the idea of smirking. There were
appearances to maintain. "Simple, really. Haruka-chan and Michiru-chan made
a unique pair, and I have no doubt Achika-chan and Hatsuyo-chan will do the
same. Remember, these aren't the first new Uranus and Neptune I've had to
deal with, and likely won't be my last either."

	"I suppose not," murmured Venus. Pluto's age tended to sneak up on
her that way. She could almost accept the green-haired woman was as old as
she was, and then she'd drop some detail or another which would clearly make
her millennia old. "Hey, do you have anything on the horizon about our
retirement? How's it going to be?"

	"Well enough," conceded Pluto. "I really don't care to give you even
too much of a vague idea of what to expect, though."

	"Spoilsport."

	"Call it a blessing. Now you're free to act however you wish,
without having to worry about how it will affect a future which was only a
possibility in the first place."

	Sailor Venus scowled. "When you say that, it has such a way of being
a definite non-comfort."

	"Thank you. Are you still planning on attending the wedding?"

	"Yes. Though we decided--well, Sailor Cassiopeia decided along
with Her Majesty--to put in only a very brief appearance at the reception."
She grinned. "It's Orion and America's day, and the new senshi are going to
be taking away enough of their thunder as it is. We'll find something else
to do."

	Uh-oh. "Something else . . . like what, exactly?"

	"Oh, Haruka and I were thinking about taking a couple of those new
Manticore fighters out for a spin. You know, sling around Earth a few times,
maybe buzz Buckingham Palace?"

	"Absolutely not," said Sailor Pluto flatly.

	"Aww, come on. It's not like we aren't qualified; hell, Haruka was
one of the original test pilots, remember!"

	Sailor Pluto shook her head. "Entirely too risky."

	"Well, you may think it's too risky, but it's not even your
decision. Saturn's still DepCinC, and she said it was okay."

	"She did, did she?" asked Pluto in a soft voice which seemed to
indicated she would have some words with the silent senshi some time later.

	Venus blinked. "Um, yeah. Though I'm sure Her Majesty would approve
as well. And at least it'll give us something to do."

	"I really think you'd be better off on the ground."

	"I think we'd rather have some actual *fun* after our grand role in
the kingdom's been played out, you know?" Venus frowned and hopped to her
feet. "Just because you're so eternal and unchanging doesn't mean the rest
of us wouldn't want to enjoy ourselves sometime!"

	Pluto drummed her fingers on the desk softly. "Well. If you're
really so determined to go . . . ."

	"Absolutely!"

	"Fine. I won't protest to Her Majesty . . . this time."

	Sailor Venus nodded emphatically and walked to the door. "Good!" She
sighed and looked back at her elder with a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry
for getting all cranky at you, but--"

	Pluto held up a hand. "No, don't worry. Believe me, I'm used to it."
She leaned back in her seat and stared up at the ceiling as Venus departed,
and waited until the double doors had eased shut before allowing an enormous
grin to crease her face.

	"Oh please, *please* don't throw me in that there briar patch!"

	No-one was present to hear the exceedingly rare sound of Sailor
Pluto's giggle. Eventually she regained control of herself, then glanced at
the chronometer on the wall before picking up her phone. "Hi, Sailor
Mercury?"


Library of History and Economics
Royal University, Lunar Campus
Mare Cogitum, Luna
25 August 3043
21:43 Lunar Standard Time

	Eileen Pearcy crept along the silent, deserted aisle. On either side
of her were the long, burgeoning shelves of books, weighing her down almost
perceptibly with their heavy store of knowledge. Sighing, she walked a bit
more quickly, cursing the sheer size of the library at the same time. Why
had the library's designers made the place so big?

	She found her quarry, unsurprisingly--at least to her--at the very
end of the aisle, where the narrow opening spread out to what was actually a
surprisingly large alcove. It formed a sort of balcony looking out on the
main reading room, which here was six stories down. As she walked to the
sturdy wooden railing, careful not to step on the leaves of a potted plant
at her feet, she looked up and saw another four stories to the frescoed
ceiling, depicting the coronation of Neo Queen Serenity.

	"Hi Eileen," said a quiet contralto, and she turned to look at the
redhead who sat in what she could only call a massively overstuffed brown
leather armchair.

	"Hiya Jen. Ziggy said you were around here." She walked over to the
chair, ears prickling at the utter silence with which her booted feet padded
on the lush carpeting. For a senshi such as she, who was used to hearing
things like footsteps with perfect clarity, the soundproofing in a place
like this library was nerve wracking in a completely unique way.

	Jen nodded, putting aside the volume she was reading. Eileen had
just enough time to glance at the title, but she wasn't at all sure what
ecohomeosocialism was, or why its role in twenty-seventh century India was
so important. "Figured I'd do a bit of reading. Maybe get a head start on
that 3035 survey work I wanted to work on."

	"I thought that was a couple years off," pointed out Eileen, who
perched her uniformed backside on the arm of Jen's chair. She looked out
over the railing. Past the chandeliers was a massive picture window, paned
and extending up and down the entire length of the atrium. Beyond the thick,
sealed glass was the blackness of space, and she was reminded that the
university was dug into the lunar rock at the edge of Mare Cogitum, with all
its dormitories and support buildings beneath the center of the mare.

	"Well, yes." Jen shrugged slightly, following Eileen's gaze. "A
little advance work never hurts, though . . . and to be honest, it's so rare
for me to get a first-hand opportunity to browse the stacks here that I had
to take it."

	"Aha." Eileen yawned and checked her watch before sliding down the
smooth leather and into Jen's lap. The redhead's arms automatically slid
around the smaller woman's waist, holding her comfortably close. For her
part, Eileen made no bones about wriggling in to make herself comfortable,
head resting on Jen's shoulder. "Y'know, you could easily get electronic
versions of everything here."

	"Not *that* easy. The chief librarian has an evil reputation."

	"Librarian? Evil?"

	Jen nodded. "Fujiko Tanaka. Oh, excuse me, Dr. Tanaka. I forgot
she'd gotten her doctorate last year . . . anyway, she's the chief librarian
for the university, and she's spent a lot of time and effort to make sure
it's the best in the known universe." Jen waved a hand about expansively,
taking in what was actually the smallest of seven libraries which made up
the University Library System. "Anyway, she takes a dim view of lost and
overdue books, and that extends to scanning and digitizing most of the stuff
here. I think they're a good nine or ten years behind schedule because of
that, though the war didn't help in that regard either."

	"Ten years?"

	"Roughly. Of course, it wasn't Fujiko's job back then, but the Royal
University's had a long history of being, ah, behind the times." She
wrinkled her nose. "I remember coming to their Crystal Tokyo campus a few
times when I was working on my dissertation. The priority slips, the data
requests . . . ." She sighed. "Calling them swamped is a major
understatement."

	Eileen blinked and schooled her expression into something more
suitably impressed. "Things aren't any better?"

	"Not really. The wait lists are something like a day or so. If I
come here instead, I can just walk straight into the stacks."

	"Convenient."

	"Very." Jen smiled, kissing Eileen's neck softly before flopping her
head back to stare at the ceiling. "You were looking for me?"

	"Yeah. Just a heads up; Sailor Cassiopeia got a couple requests from
some Earth media groups to speak to you about the new senshi. They might be
calling you tomorrow after the investiture."

	Jen rolled her eyes and sighed. "Great. Just what I needed."

	"Look on the bright side," Eileen pointed out. "At least they won't
ask you for the thousandth time what kind of dress you'll be wearing."

	"I guess you're right." Jen sighed once more, burying her nose in
Eileen's hair and sniffing gently. She smiled and sniffed again, much longer
this time. "You do know that vanilla is my favorite scent, right?"

	Eileen nodded. "Yep."

	"And that using a vanilla-scented shampoo is guaranteed to drive me
absolutely wild?"

	Eileen nodded again. "Yeah."

	"Even here?"

	"Oh, I didn't know it would work *that* well." She giggled, cuddling
closer and twisting around in Jen's lap until their faces were mere
millimeters from each other. "So. Ever done it in a library?"

	Jen's face flushed just a bit, in what Eileen thought was a rather
fetching way. "Of course not."

	"Are you sure? I'm thinking about that one time I visited you at the
Hinansho library . . . ."

	"Erm, no," said Jen, shaking her head. "We didn't actually *do*
anything there, just fooled around a little." She smiled impishly,
delivering a pinch to Eileen's posterior which caused the brunette to squeal
involuntarily. "Of course, once I got you into the ladies' room, that's an
entirely different story."

	Eileen smirked, once the surprise of the pinch faded away.
"Actually, I seem to recall that story. It ended when a certain redheaded
history professor made enough noise to draw the janitor's attention."

	Jen shrugged, managing to look remarkably innocent. "I don't think
it was my fault. Clearly the builders hadn't adequately soundproofed the
restrooms."

	"Of course."

	"Oh, don't give me that 'of course.' Besides, *you* were screaming
way louder than me."

	"Erm. Was hoping you'd forgotten that part."

	Jen giggled and shook her head, taking in another whiff of Eileen's
intoxicating shampoo. "How could I? You always go absolutely crazy when I
kiss you there."

	Eileen sighed. "Anyway. Is anything wrong?"

	"Wrong?" Jen blinked, looking curiously at her lover. "No, of course
not. Why would you think that?"

	"I dunno. You've just been kind of down lately."

	"Oh." Jen nodded, hugging Eileen a bit closer. "You mean after that
dome blew out on me?"

	"The thought had crossed my mind."

	"It wasn't my first near-death experience," Jen said lightly.

	Eileen nodded very slightly. "True. Your first in awhile, though,
and one that nearly killed your parents too." Eileen sighed at the small,
sharp intake of breath from Jen. "I know how much you love them. But . . .
don't think I haven't noticed how protective you are of them."

	"I just don't want anything to happen to them," Jen protested.

	"Of course not. But even you have to admit assigning bodyguards to
them is a bit much."

	The redhead's face flushed slightly. "I was just being careful."

	Eileen reached out, lightly caressing Jen's cheek. "And it has
nothing to do with not wanting to lose your parents as you've lost your
grandparents?"

	"No," Jen said stiffly.

	"Then what?"

	Jen remained silent for a long moment. Just when Eileen was about to
open her mouth, she spoke. "Do you know how galling it is, being a senshi
and not being able to protect your parents?"

	Eileen rolled her eyes, kissing Jen's heated cheek lightly. "Oh,
don't even try to give me that! There's nothing you or anybody else could
have done about it."

	"But if-"

	"History's full of buts, Jen, you know that! So unless you've
suddenly become a better precog than Pluto, don't tell me you were in a
position to keep this from happening."

	"Um." Jen pondered this, then sighed. "You must think I'm really
dumb."

	"Only sometimes. It balances out the other times that you're much
too clever."

	"Are you serious?"

	Eileen managed to hold her expression just a fraction of a second,
but Jen's wide-open, rapidly blinking eyes proved too much. She collapsed
into laughter, resting her head in the crook of Jen's neck. "You're really
too much sometimes."

	"I try," Jen said dryly.

	"Well. I take it you'll call off the bodyguards?"

	"I don't know . . . I still feel lots safer knowing my parents are
being watched over."

	"Don't doubt it," agreed Eileen, her arms sneaking around to
encircle her lover.

	"Did you know your parents are being watched too?"

	"Yes." The curtness of Eileen's reply took Jen by surprise, until
she put two and two together. Of course Eileen's American parents would be
under much closer scrutiny than would otherwise be the case, and Jen
squashed down a momentary flare of irritation at the thought they would
doubtless hide behind the excuse that it was simply a protection detail.
Protection, undoubtedly, but protecting who from whom?

	"Sorry. I . . . well, the point is that they have a lot of people
looking out for them. That alone helps me relax a little."

	"I guess so," Eileen conceded. She sighed, squirming closer to Jen.
By now she knew all the right places to press against, and both women sighed
in unison. "You're warm."

	"Thanks," Jen said simply. "This is really a comfortable chair."

	"It is. Think we can take it home?"

	Jen smirked and kissed Eileen's nose. "We have too many chairs at
home as it is. Besides, I doubt we can just sneak it past the door."

	"You're probably right. You're the most comfortable thing in the
library."

	"Thanks," giggled Jen. She ruffled Eileen's hair lovingly. "We
should probably get going. Her Majesty wanted to see us around 23:00 about
the investiture."

	"Lovely. Do you know about what, exactly?"

	"Not really." She admired Eileen's backside as the brunette
disengaged and stood, bending over to tie an errant shoelace. "Probably just
to see if there's any last minute suggestions we have to make."

	"Us?"

	Jen shrugged and stood, stretching casually before setting her book
back on the shelf in its proper place. It drove Fujiko crazy when students
and visitors did it, she knew, but Jen was more conscientious than most about
making sure she put them in the right spot. "I don't think she's finalized
the fuku matrix. Still undecided on the choker design?"

	"Really? I thought she was set on the five-pointed star . . . ." The
two walked down the hall to the elevators, speaking softly.


Throne Room of the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
26 August 3043
12:00 Lunar Standard Time

	Compared to some of the other momentous occasions which had graced
the hallowed hall, it was relatively empty today. There was only the Queen,
Queen Mother, and all the planet senshi save Pluto. The senshi stood in a
line to the right of the queen, who for their part stood on the dais upon
which sat the throne.

	In a row opposite the planet senshi were those who would be senshi
themselves. Aside from them, the vast room was empty, a fact Achika found
particularly discomfiting given that all was ready for the wedding in five
days. The rows upon rows of empty seats and racked holovid cameras made her
unaccountably nervous.

	Of course, she thought as the two Serenities conferred, it didn't
help that those cameras were live. Sailor Cassiopeia had sold it as a dry run
of the coverage which would be in place a few days from then. To be fair,
there was quite a bit of interest in the event as well, as a new senshi
hadn't been appointed in over a decade. Thus the demand for a broadcast. 

	What set this investiture apart from all the ones which had come
before was the lack of an audience. More interestingly, it wasn't a lack of
willing participants. It was a matter of safety.

	Serenity II had been very reluctant to allow an audience. Indeed,
left to her own devices, she would have preferred to have no audience at
all, if only because she feared making a mistake in her biggest test as
wielder of the ginzuishou. However, she had managed to win the exclusion of
any outside parties, on the grounds that the magical energies she was about
to throw about could be harmful to bystanders.  She knew it was a threadbare
excuse, but at least nobody had called her on it.

	Queen Serenity II sighed. Enough dilly-dallying; this wasn't going
to get any easier the longer she waited. She gave her mother a last smile
before turning to face the cameras. A green light winked on at the far end
of the room, and she nodded.

	"Good afternoon to the people of the Moon Kingdom, and all other
observers. Today marks a momentous and happy occasion, born out of an
unfortunate farewell.

	"This morning, I formally received letters of resignation from the
Super Sailor Senshi of Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Uranus, and Neptune.
It is now time for those resignations to become official, as these senshi
retire from the duties which they have upheld so well and for so long.

	"On a more joyful note, it is also time for their successors to take
their rightful places. I therefore introduce to you Takeshi Ashida, Sakura
Shintaro, Chiharu Kanazawa, Sharifa Mwakabuta, Achika Shibata, and Hatsuyo
Numata!"

	Each teenager bowed slightly as they were introduced, wearing the
black dress uniforms of the Royal Star Navy, still lacking any stripes of
rank on their sleeves. The cameras lingered on Hatsuyo's cheery--if
nervous--face just a moment longer, then swung back in unison toward
Serenity II. The monarch was reminded of a dozen eyes on black stalks.

	"These six young people have, in the last few weeks, been subject to
the most rigorous physical, mental, and spiritual training which we know how
to administer. As such, I'm proud to say they excelled in all areas. In the
opinion of every senshi we consulted, and especially in my own personal
judgement, these young women--and this young man--have proven themselves to
be more than worthy successors to the titles held by the present senshi."

	Serenity II paused a moment, taking a glance to her left and then to
her right. Both lines of women--and the one man, who she already felt bad
for singling out--looked appropriately solemn without risking a fainting
spell. Chiharu, in particular, looked especially serious. In an odd twist,
it was Sharifa who looked ready to burst from excitement, and Serenity II
smiled a little in amusement.

	Her smile faded as she realized the time had come. Squaring her
shoulders, she stepped down to speak directly in front of the younger line.
"If any of you wish, you may yet decline the honor of being a senshi. If
there is any doubt in your mind, now would be the time to tell me."

	The senshi-elect said nothing for an uncomfortably long period of
time. Eventually, it was Sharifa who unsurprisingly spoke for them all. "I
don't think that we've been more certain of anything before, Your Majesty."

	"Truly?"

	"Truly."

	The queen nodded lightly. "Very well, then. I'll proceed."

	What Serenity II was about to attempt hadn't been done since the
days of the Moon Kingdom. Everything gleaned from records of that time had
been meticulously examined and studied by both Tsukino, and with good
reason.

	Serenity I had created over two hundred senshi, true. None, though,
had been created along a particular matrix. The naming and identification
system was as much random as anything, and so she'd not been able to offer
her daughter any personal insights on the level of control over the
ginzuishou which would be necessary.

	On the other hand, what was most emphatically not needed was to
make carbon copies of the original senshi. Aside from aesthetic
considerations, keeping the same transformations and attacks would leave
their enemies free to further develop counters to the senshi, instead of
forcing them to adapt to new ones.

	Also, there was the matter of improvements. Serenity II, along with
her fiancee, had come up with a number of ideas which would hopefully make
life for the senshi a bit more pleasant. They'd been aided in this by
several of the new senshi as well, including Sailors Orion and America. The
additional guidance needed to incorporate these changes was thus daunting
enough for anyone.

	Of course, it also happened to be true that none of what was to
happen had been the least bit rehearsed, practiced, or tested. As Minako
loved to say, there was no time like the present.

	The Queen closed her eyes, pink ponytails waving in a breeze only
she could feel. Her hands reached to her chest, clasping it and pulling her
hands away to reveal the multifaceted crystal. It twinkled in the light,
reflecting the various lamps overhead, and had a slight silvery glow better
felt than seen.

	As she concentrated, the breeze began slowly to build, ruffling the
hair and clothes of the other man and women present. It was accompanied by a
rumbling, at first so low and indistinct as to barely be noticeable, except
at the fringes of perception.

	Achika blinked away a sudden wave of nausea. It came and sent too
quickly for her to really react--not that she'd been able to eat all that
much that morning--but she bit her lip hard as it happened again.  Her eyes
flicked from side to side, watching the others, but she found they didn't
seem to be feeling anything. If they were, they weren't showing any signs of
it.

	The girl choked back a sigh, then blinked twice to clear her vision.
For some reason, though, the tiny motes of light which had been begun to
materialize around the two lines of future and former senshi refused to go
away. In a clinical manner, she noticed they were multicolored, all
conforming to the colors of the senshi they were closest to. Curious, she
reached out a fingertip to touch one of the motes, and blinked in surprise
at the resultant tingling feeling. It wasn't *quite* like an electric shock,
but it was close.

	The sparks of light began to dive and swirl faster and closer,
striking her again and again. The tingling feeling spread over her skin
wherever it was exposed. This didn't bother her quite so much as the tingly
spread past her sleeves and trousers, her body now almost completely
enveloped in blue and yellow sparks.

	Never afterward would she be adequately able to explain just what
she felt in that moment, and none of her friends had been very able to help.
All she could really say was that at that moment, everything changed. Things
seemed sharper, clearer, louder, more vivid. Sharifa said afterward that
everything was simply more *real*, and that seemed the best explanation
anyone had come up with yet.

	Whatever words she chose to label the change, it was over in less
than an instant. Replacing it was a sort of singing tension in every muscle
of her body. A potential which fairly screamed to be released, whatever the
cost. She knew, without the slightest doubt, the four words which would
trigger her shift, and her mouth worked even as she tried to keep from
uttering them.

	Her counterpart felt precisely the opposite. Sailor Uranus
suppressed a sigh as her transformation reversed itself, the white leotard
with blue skirt, boots, collar, and yellow bow fading away for the last
time. What replaced them was something which caused Serenity II to blink in
surprise, but only elicited a knowing, appreciative nod from the queen
mother. Only appropriate, as it was meant for her.

	Ami Mizuno, Minako Aino, Rei Hino, Makoto Kino, Haruka Ten'ou, and
Michiru Kaiou stood in a line, wearing rather old clothes. Ami was in the
red, white, and blue uniform of Juuban Junior High School. Minako wore the
similar uniform of Shibakouen Junior High School. Rei wore the simple white
and red of a shrine maiden, while Makoto was in the white and brown uniform
she'd worn at Juuban.  Not to be outdone, Haruka wore the white firesuit of a
race car driver, and Michiru was in an elegant sea-green gown, one which
wouldn't be too out of place at a concert.

	Serenity II took a moment to figure it out, but once she did, she
suddenly found herself blinking back tears, for the planet senshi had chosen
to go out the same way they had gone in.

	Haruka shook her head clear. She couldn't think of the words to
transform. She knew they were simple, they *had* to be simple, but they
simply wouldn't come to mind. For the rest of her life, she would try to
remember, and so would her friends, and none of it would do any good.

	All present simply paused for a moment, considering the changes
which had just occurred. Serenity I cast a worried eye on her daughter,
making sure she was okay, but that was all.

	"Well," said Serenity II at least. "Why don't you try out your new
forms?"

	Another very long pause, and then Sharifa nodded. "Very well." She
glanced up and down the line, raising a hand in the air. It was empty; they
would have no need for henshin rods. "Are we ready?" All nodded. "Okay."

	She smiled.

	"Mercury Power, Make Up!"

	"Venus Power, Make Up!"

	"Mars Power, Make Up!"

	"Jupiter Power, Make Up!"

	"Uranus Power, Make Up!"

	"Neptune Power, Make Up!"

	Everything happened at once. Power swirled, coruscated, flared.
Basic laws of physics were bent, strained, and broken. For six people, the
universe exploded and put itself back together in an orgasmic burst of
magical energy.

	Then, there were six senshi.

	"Oh my," said Ami.

	"Kami-sama!" blurted Makoto.

	Rei scowled. "Totally untraditional."

	"They aren't that bad," murmured Michiru.

	Haruka nodded. "Rather fetching."

	Minako grinned. "Cool!"

	What provoked all this commentary was Serenity II's solution to the
problem of what to do about Takeshi. Obviously, he couldn't be expected to
wear the traditional short skirt--at least, not without a great deal of
ridicule. The Queen Mother had broached the idea of a tuxedo outfit, and had
been politely rebuffed.

	Perhaps the most curious suggestion had come from Minako. Why not,
she'd asked, simply have him become a female for the duration of the
transformation? The costume need not be as showy as that of the Starlights,
but the principle remained the same.

	In the end, the queen had declined, not least because she felt such
an obvious cop-out would undermine the whole point of selecting a male
senshi. A male who could only use his abilities as a female arguably *was* a
female senshi, at least functionally.

	The solution she hit upon had been rather simple, at least in
comparison to some other ideas she'd come up with. If the obviously
female-biased senshi uniform was a problem, the solution should thus be to
transition to a unisex uniform. Thus, for the first time ever, senshi wore
shorts.

	To be fair, the shorts Takeshi and the others wore weren't very
casual. They were very short, clinging skintight to his thighs and reaching
down not even halfway to his knees. They were closer to being a third, or
even a quarter, reaching only a few centimeters down his legs. Their color
was blue, matching exactly the color Sailor Mercury's skirt had been, as
were the knee-high laced boots he wore.

	Above his waist, two or three centimeters of skin were left bare,
ended by the tight fit of a white shirt. Like his shorts, it left little to
the imagination, featuring a sharply plunging neckline to show a bit of his
bare chest. It was trimmed at collar and sleeves in a light blue, matching
the light blue of Mercury's former bows. The sleeves themselves were
similarly short, covering half his biceps. On his left breast was a small
golden oval laid on its side, with the blue sigil of Mercury in its center.

	At his neck, or more properly behind it, the traditional sailor
collar had been preserved. It, too, was a dark blue, three white stripes
bordering it as it ran back down his back and over his shoulders. Around his
neck was a choker of blue, a stylized light blue heart at his throat.

	Two more items completed the ensemble. The first was traditional:
white gloves running up and over his wrists, trimmed in dark blue. The
second wasn't at all traditional, at least considering that it had come
unbidden: a translucent blue visor covering his eyes.

	The other five senshi were, except for color, dressed identically.
Granted, the girls did a much better job filling out their
shirts--especially Sailor Neptune--but they were otherwise the same. Venus
wore orange with blue trim, Mars red with purple, Jupiter green with pink,
Uranus dark blue with yellow, Neptune a blue-green with midnight blue.

	They looked themselves over, turning this way and that in
examination. After due consideration, Sailor Neptune was the first to come
to a conclusion.

	"Y'know, this thing leaves nothing at all about my butt to the
imagination."

	Haruka took a long, careful look at Sailor Venus, whose back was
turned at present, and nodded. "I agree. It's even better than the skirts."

	"I thought you liked the skirts?" complained Michiru.

	"Oh, I do. But for the chance to see your cute--"

	"Ahem!" Rei glared at the lovers with a scowl which would have
fooled anyone who hadn't known her for centuries. "If you two lovebirds
would kindly leave the flirting for later, we do have other things to do
here."

	Ami nodded in agreement. "Are you all feeling okay? No obvious
discomfort?" She smiled at the indecision in the visored eyes of the senshi.
"I know, you're still trying to figure yourselves out. It's a normal
reaction. Headaches? Dizziness? Nausea?"

	Headshakes answered her. "Nothing like that," said Sailor Venus, her
customary aristocratic drawl noticeably clipped. Sailor Neptune couldn't
decide if this was intentional. "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now,
but whatever it is, it isn't too bad."

	"Instinct?" asked Ami quickly.

	The blonde shrugged. "I guess so."

	"Good!" Ami's smile was genuine as she turned to the Queen. "Then I
think we can consider this a success, Your Majesty."

	Serenity II pursed her lips, caution in her red eyes. "Maybe.
There's still the weapons test."

	It was Ami's turn to show doubt. "I'm not at all sure about that.
Quite apart from a training standpoint, we generally give senshi a few days
to--"

	"The concern is appreciated, but I think you're being a bit too
cautious here. We all used our powers for the first time almost
immediately."

	"That was more out of necessity, though," protested Ami softly, but
she knew better than to raise a real complaint.

	The Queen only nodded. "A few hours, then. But no more, understood?"

	Ami sighed and nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."

	"Good." She nodded to the ex-senshi. "We'll be off for a bit. I
expect to meet with you and Sailor Saturn in three hours, perhaps?" The
newest senshi nodded in return. "Excellent. See you shortly, then." She
bowed lightly to the others, then led the ex-senshi out, leaving Sailors
Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, Uranus, and Neptune standing alone in an
empty throne room, the cameras off.

	Twenty seconds passed in total silence as the senshi looked at each
other. Sailor Mars finally broke the quiet with a squeal of pure joy,
pumping a gloved fist and jumping over a meter into the air. "YES!"

	Sailor Uranus smiled, giving the short red-clad senshi an impulsive
hug. "Feels great, doesn't it?"

	Sailor Mars nodded emphatically. "It's . . . just so different. I
feel like I want to run a marathon or something!"

	Sailor Neptune bounced on her heels a few times before pirouetting
on her left toe. "I'll take a pass on the marathon, but I *am* feeling
pretty energetic." She furrowed her brows. "Um, is anyone else seeing
anything funny?"

	Sailor Jupiter frowned slightly. "Funny?"

	The azure nodded. "I'm seeing lots of junk."

	"Junk?"

	"Yeah, junk! Do you have to keep repeating everything I say?"

	The tall African senshi tried very hard not to sigh. "Well, if you
would choose your words a bit more carefully, I wouldn't have to."

	Sailor Neptune grinned. "Well, I'm looking at you now, and I'm
getting your mass, height, body temperature . . . ."

	Jupiter blinked and walked quickly over to Neptune. "What?"

	"Seriously. I just got a velocity and acceleration vector on you,
too." She blinked twice, turning her attention to another senshi. "Now I'm
getting the same thing on Take . . . er, Mercury."

	Sailor Mercury blinked, already feeling a bit self-conscious as the
only male there--and one wearing rather tight shorts, at that. "How do you
do--oh." He blinked a third time, this time in surprise as his view of
Sailor Neptune was enclosed in a set of brackets with a list of numbers
running down the side. He squinted, and suddenly he had a close-up view of
Neptune's face.

	"Fascinating," murmured Sailor Jupiter. "Did Sailor Saturn ever
mention anything like this?"

	"I don't think so," said Venus. "Pretty useful if it's what I think
it is, though." Her eyes blinked behind the translucent orange of her visor,
her mind racing through the tactical possibilities. "I can't wait to try
this out in the simulator."

	"We'll have to," Jupiter agreed. She hmmed to herself with hands on
hips. "In any case, though . . . ." She sighed and slumped into one of the
chairs, closing her eyes. "We've done it . . . we've done it," she repeated
softly.

	Sailor Uranus nodded, sitting next to Jupiter and rubbing her
shoulders lightly. "We're senshi. It's . . . just amazing, isn't it?"

	A giggle off to her side drew her attention. Looking to her left,
she saw Sailor Mars laughing and doing a handstand. The girl smiled as she
saw Uranus looking at her, waving brightly with one hand as she smoothly
sprang back to her feet. "Just wait 'till my parents see me!"

	Sailor Mercury simply nodded from where he stood next to Sailor
Venus. He had no special wish to be reminded of his father. "I do feel a bit
down, though."

	"Letdown?" asked Jupiter. "I doubt it will last very long."

	Mercury sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've gotten what I
wanted all along. I'm just wondering what we do next?"

	Uranus shrugged, spreading her arms wide. "Dinner, then we meet at
the training range, final wedding rehearsals, and then I'm pretty sure we
have a press conference."

	"What?" growled Neptune. "Another?"

	Sailor Venus smiled angelically. "You must admit this will be the
first conference in awhile where we'll actually have something to say." She
smiled languidly, stretching and reminding Uranus and Mercury of nothing so
much as Jennifer Sakachi when she was in one of her more unguarded moments.

	"Sure, right," Sailor Neptune grumbled. "Just another way for us to
waste valuable time, and so close to the wedding too!"

	"We'll manage," said Sailor Jupiter calmly. "Right now, though . . .
if the rest of you are a tenth as hungry as I am, we should probably get to
the dining room." She was answered by unanimous nods of agreement. "Well. We
should be going now."


Suite 1109
Teal Sector
Mare Tranquillitatis, Luna
26 August 3043
18:47 Lunar Standard Time

	"So you'd characterize overall attitudes as positive?"

	On the flat video screen, Sailor Neptune nodded before pouring
herself a glass of water from the carafe which sat before her. Taking a sip,
she smiled to the off-screen reporter. "We're all thrilled, really, and I
can't see why we wouldn't be. Next question?"

	"Ah, yes. Kenji Oe, Panwakusei Times-Gazette. Sailor Neptune, many
people--especially those from the less advantaged classes of the
kingdom--have latched on to you. They see you as a symbol of what can be
achieved by those same segments of the population. Would you care to comment
on this, and offer your own opinions on the subject?"

	Neptune chuckled softly, sipping a bit more water. "Well, you know,
I've never thought about it. I won't pretend my family is anywhere near as
rich or powerful as, say, Sak--Sailor Venus's. But really, we're all senshi,
and that's all that matters here."

	"A follow-up, if I may . . . does this extend to other members of
your team?"

	"Oh, absolutely. If anything, growing up where I did exposed me to
more different types of people, and it's no problem at all adjusting. That's
the nice thing about being less advantaged, it makes one quite more--"

	The screen clicked off, and Hatsuyo's father went off to work.


105 Akihabara Drive
Nagano-2, Hinansho
26 August 3043
19:12 Lunar Standard Time
15:50 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	"Next is Sailor Uranus." Sailor Cassiopeia scratched her neck
absently, her bows and skirt a notable contrast to the much tighter--and yet
just as revealing--shorts and shirts of the planet senshi. "And please, this
time keep in mind the time limits. The senshi have had a very tiring day,
and they do need their rest. Ally?"

	Achika's parents watched the live feed from their living room. Both
breathed in sharply as the camera shifted and Sailor Uranus's head filled
the holovid tank. Her eyes were calm and confident behind the dark blue of
her visor. They flicked to her right, regarding the most respected Terran
journalist covering the Mare Crisium beat.

	"Sailor Uranus, first let me congratulate you on your investiture as
a senshi."

	"Thank you."

	"At two hundred or so light years from the solar system, you and
Sailor Mercury came the furthest to be here. What, then, has been the most
difficult thing for you to adjust to here, and also, what are your attitudes
toward Earth in general?"

	"Um." The senshi folded her hands on the table, fingers interlaced.
"Most difficult thing to adjust . . . I think it's just living on the Moon.
It's nothing like being on a planet, like you probably already know. Being
indoors all the time is something new to me.

	"Granted, there's lots of parks and other green spaces here, which
is good. Nothing matches a good day with the sun and the wind, though." Her
youthful face flashed a rare smile. "All in all, though, I think I'm coming
along."

	She sighed and ran a finger along her glass of water before
continuing. "As for Earth . . . I think Her Majesty is trying to become
closer with them, and it's a good idea. I mean, sure we've had some bad
times in the past, but I don't see any reason we shouldn't try to start
smoothing out our differences." Uranus frowned at the vagueness of her
answer, but gave a little mental shrug as the journalist accepted it and sat
back down.

	"Next?"


Hall of Heroes
Palace of the President
Nanyuki, Kenya, Terra
26 August 3043
20:01 Lunar Standard Time
14:01 Kenyan Standard Time

	"Next we have Sailor Ju-"  The rest of Sailor Cassiopeia's voice was
drowned out by a massive cheer, as the audience stood and applauded their
hero.

	The hall was packed with spectators. Part of the massive Palace of
the President, where the president of the Republic of Kenya maintained both
his own offices and those of his cabinet, it had seen many receptions,
galas, and press conferences. It was dedicated to thousands of years of
heroes whose pictures lined the walls. Warriors, marathon runners, statesmen,
scientists--arguably the best Africa had to offer in the modern age had come
from Kenya.

	The president smiled broadly, gesturing for quiet so they could
listen to the questions and answers. He found it hard, though, to tear his
eyes from the massive holotank--loaned from Serenity II, but really more of
a gift--which filled one end of the cavernous hall. In it swam the image of
Sailor Jupiter, and he couldn't help but laugh to himself, remembering days
when he'd carried her on his back, when he and Jupiter's father had
practiced law at the same firm.

	She certainly had grown.

	"It's an honor and a privilege to be a senshi," said Sailor Jupiter
in her husky, cultured voice. "Doubly so to be a senshi from outside Japan,
and even more so when I consider the rich history and tradition I must live
up to as the second Sailor Jupiter. I look forward to rising to meet the
challenge and standard my predecessor set, and hopefully to exceed it and
set a higher one for my own successor. Next question, please?"

	"Dieter Kant, representing the Berlin Telegraph. I'd just like to
ask, Sailor Jupiter, what you see as your role as an ambassador to the Moon
Kingdom?"

	Jupiter blinked. "Well, I'm really not sure what you mean. I'm a
senshi, not a diplomat. I can understand there's extra pressure and
attention paid to me because of my planet of origin, but I certainly hope
I'm more than just a symbol or token of Earth. I intend to be Sailor
Jupiter, and that's about that."

	"So you don't feel any responsibility toward your homeland?"

	"That's not what I said," corrected Jupiter. "Quite the contrary; I
know I can set an example for what's possible for Africans, and Terrans in
general, if they want it bad enough and are willing to put in the necessary
work. However, I won't try to bias Her Majesty toward Kenya or Earth to any
undue degree. I'll give my honest opinions when asked, but I'm not the
advocate for Africa." She frowned ever so slightly. "Next question, please?"

	A blonde deep in the back of the audience stood. "Yurika Tani, of
the Port Fuji Times-Dispatch. Sailor Jupiter, congratulations on your
investiture, and if you could, please, tell us a bit about how life on Earth
prepared you for being a senshi."

	The senshi smiled and leaned back in her chair slightly. "That's an
interesting question. As you probably know, being a senshi wasn't exactly
what I'd always aspired to. I'd considered it, of course--who doesn't?--but
by the time I was twelve or so, I'd accepted it wasn't going to happen.

	"Anyway . . . well, to make a long story short, what I did which
prepared me? I'd have to say my wide range of studies, as well as my
physical training. My parents drilled into me at a young age the need for
proper physical fitness, and I've always been active. Of course, it helps
when your father is a justice of the Supreme Court." She smiled, looking
straight into the cameras, and thus into the packed hall. "Hi Mom, hi Dad. I
hope you're watching."


174 Meisei Drive
Hesperia Planum, Mars
26 August 3043
21:58 Lunar Standard Time
22:50 Amenthian Standard Time

	As a voice-over commentator noted Sailor Mars had been determined to
have the best smile of the six new senshi according to a recent poll, that
same Mars giggled and finished answering a question on whether she felt
being the youngest senshi would be a difficulty. "Next?"

	"Hi!" There was a slight rustle over the holovid's speakers, and the
camera's point of view swung around back over the vast sea of reporters
present at the news conference. It then angled down slightly, while its
viewpoint rose up to pick out the face in the crowd which was rather lower
than its fellows. The picture zoomed in to the face of a boy who couldn't be
more than ten, yet still dressed in a suit and tie. He stood, fishing a
small handheld computer from a pocket. "Kotaro Nagata, from the Mare
Tranquillitatis Children's Weekly! Sailor Mars, do you ever get any free
time to play and stuff?"

	Sailor Mars blinked and leaned forward slightly over her table,
nearly knocking over her glass of water. Next to her, Sailor Venus hastily
reached for the glass and rescued it from a spill. Barely noticing this at
all, Sailor Mars blinked again, squinting at the boy and then biting back a
giggle as her visor brought him into sharp focus. "Mare Tranquillitatis
Children's Weekly? I've never heard of it."

	Kotaro shrugged. "It's mostly for elementary and middle schools in
the Tri-Mare area. Though we're trying to get distributed to Mars and Venus
too."

	"Oh, neat. That would be pretty cool." Sailor Mars giggled. "Oh,
right. Free time . . . well, we don't get lots of it. It's not like we're
being worked anything like as hard as the rest of the senshi, 'cause we are,
but I guess it's just because the former planet senshi are still handling a
lot of it. So we'll be doing more of it soon enough. I'm not really sure
what to call them, though. 'Former planet senshi' takes too long, and
'ex-senshi' sounds really mean, and it's not like they're dead or anything.
And I wouldn't want them to be dead either, because they've been so helpful
to us over the last few weeks. I bet we couldn't do a tenth of what we can
do now if they hadn't been around whenever we had a question or to give us
lessons in magic and everything else. It'll be kind of sad to see them go,
but I guess they have to in the end, since they did retire and all. And
after so long, they deserve it, don't they? I just hope we don't have to
retire for centuries and centuries yet, because we're just starting our
terms and there's so much to do coming up, like the wedding. That's where
we've been spending a lot of time too, to be honest, rehearsing our roles
and places for Jen-chan and Eileen-chan's wedding, and what with all that,
and learning to become senshi, and all our lessons--we still have to learn
things like calculus and astrophysics and philosophy and political science
and quantum mechanics and eco-economics and all sorts of other things I only
read about before coming here--that we don't really get all that much free
time at all. It's still enough, though, 'cause we get a full hour for lunch,
and then we're usually free after about twenty-two hundred or so, except on
special days like today where we have other duties. That doesn't happen too
often, though, and so otherwise we get to play games like tennis or water
polo or volleyball or whatever we want, or chess. We all love chess, and
we're pretty good at it. Especially Sakura-chan, she can beat pretty much
any of us, even Sharifa-chan. Oh, and we write to our families, or watch the
holovids, just normal stuff. It's really a lot like being at home, or at a
private boarding school. Sakura-chan went to one of those. I didn't, though,
I was in a public school. But anyway, there's lots of free time." She
blinked. "Does that answer your question?"

	The crowd of journalists stared at Sailor Mars, as did her fellow
senshi. Wordlessly, Sailor Venus offered the glass of water she'd snatched
away, and Sailor Mars hurriedly gulped it down.

	Kotaro blinked. "Um . . . yeah, that answers it." He sat.

	Chiharu Kanazawa's father sighed and leaned back on his living room
couch. "Thank goodness."

	"Why?" asked her mother.

	"She's gotten less long-winded."


1467 Furui Denshinki Road
Otafuku Tholus, Venus
26 August 3043
22:34 Lunar Standard Time
26:20 Cytherian Mean Time

	Shiori Shintaro frowned and rubbed her forehead, tapping the
forefinger of her other hand on the computer console. Something about the
salt contents of the Southern Cytherian Sea wasn't really adding up.
Sighing, she ran a hand through her blonde hair and tried once again to
massage the data into something coherent. To her side was a small flat video
screen, but she hardly paid attention to it, being far more interested in the
calcium chloride levels along Kasami Beach.

	"Well, of course it's way too early to think about things like
movies and such," answered Sailor Venus, smiling her small smile as she
swung back and forth slowly in her seat. "I certainly wouldn't mind seeing
one made, though. It would be pretty neat to be able to see myself--and my
new friends--in a full-length film."

	"Aha!" Shiori smiled as her computer obediently spat out an answer.
A species of plankton introduced by the Royal Terraformation Commission some
decades before had tended to produce higher than average amounts of calcium
chloride. According to the notes on the screen, while a minority opinion had
dissented, the project had nonetheless proceeded in seeding the oceans with
this form of plankton, which as required sucked up carbon dioxide from the
atmosphere. However, the salt content was becoming a problem for some of the
fauna imported to the ocean, and the ripple effects were most interesting to
the scientist. She spared barely a glance to the screen to watch her
daughter answer another question.

	"Oh, I don't think it's fair at all to ask who among us is the
prettiest. We're all really cute girls, no doubt of that . . . well, and
Sailor Mercury is a cute guy, too."

	"To follow up on that, then," said the questioner, a gossip
columnist for one of the more popular celebrity magazines, "Have you given
any thought to the idea of a relationship? If not with one of your fellow
senshi, there are almost literally thousands of young men and women who'd be
delighted to go out on a date with you."

	Sailor Venus giggled lightly, tossing her head back with a smile.
"I'm sure there are, but I'd rather keep my options open. I want to meet the
right person first."

	Shiori saved her most recent work and sent it to a colleague on the
other side of the planet, then turned to the next item on her agenda.


9 Kouka Street
Nagano-2, Hinansho
26 August 3043
23:01 Lunar Standard Time
19:39 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	Night was falling over the Ashida household, which at the moment was
mostly empty. The sun had set, yet no lights had been turned on in Yuki
Ashida's bedroom, the pale walls lit only by the soft glow of a small
holovid viewer. In the tank floated the tiny image of Sailor Mercury,
looking more than a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. A small sidebar
from the broadcast company told her and all other viewers that more cameras
were focused on him right now than had been on any other senshi.

	Yuki sighed. She could read the nervousness in his eyes, even across
two hundred light years and the translucent blue of his visor. 

	"No, there's been no friction at all. I've gotten along just well
with the other senshi, and I hope I'll continue to. My gender hasn't been an
issue."

	He reached out for his glass of water as he listened to the next
question, nodding to show he was paying attention. A slight blush colored
his cheeks as the questioner reached her point. "Ah, um. To be honest, if I
had ever walked in on my teammates in the shower, I wouldn't say anything
about it. As it is, I haven't. So, um . . . I hope that answers your
question."

	Yuki sighed and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling from the warm
comfort of her bed. She was on the verge of turning off the set--she was
recording the conference, and she always felt unaccountably nervous about
watching news unfold live--when a knock came at her door. "Um, come in?"

	The woman who opened her poster-covered door wore a traditional
sailor fuku, red skirt with grey bows. She smiled brightly, "Hi there. Mind
if I visit?"

	The younger girl shrugged. "Sure." She glanced curiously at Sailor
Fomalhaut. "Um, why are you here? Just checking up on me again?"

	Sailor Fomalhaut spread her hands placatingly. "You know that whole
thing was Sailor Shaula's idea. She's pretty dull, once you come down to
it." The senshi flopped next to Yuki on the bed, stretching out languidly
and arching her back. "I was just curious about how you were liking your
brother's performance."

	Yuki shrugged again, leaning back again and turning her head
slightly to the side to watch the broadcast. Her hand reached over for the
control on her nightstand, turning down the volume. "He doesn't seem as
nervous as I thought he would be."

	Fomalhaut grinned. "It's all stage presence. I'm sure he's been
taught that while he was studying for being a senshi."

	"They teach you how to do press conferences?"

	"Public speaking is included in training, yes. How to handle crowds,
reporters, subordinates, superiors, everybody. It's really quite
indispensable."

	Yuki nodded slightly. "How did you do in that?"

	"Pretty good," admitted Fomalhaut. "Of course, that was mostly
because of sex appeal." She grinned. "Don't underestimate the usefulness of
a short skirt."

	The girl blushed slightly. "Um, well . . . how do you think he'll
do?"

	Sailor Fomalhaut opened her mouth, then closed it again as she saw
the seriousness in Yuki's eyes. "I think he'll be fine. From everything I've
heard, he's not a boy--or man--who'll ever back down from a challenge."

	"I guess so." Yuki sighed, blowing air through her bangs as she
continued watching the now mute image of her brother. "I still miss him,
though."

	The senshi smiled and ruffled Yuki's hair. "'Course you do. But
you'll be able to visit him soon enough, I promise." She sat up, folding her
legs under her as she massaged Yuki's shoulders expertly. She was surprised
at how taut the youngster's muscles were, but soon set to work trying to
loosen them. "Remember, I did say you could go back with me when I sail back
to Luna."

	Yuki nodded lightly. "I remember." She and Sailor Fomalhaut--and
Sailor Shaula, for that matter--had become rather close in the weeks since
her brother had left with Jen, Eileen, and Achika. Sailor Fomalhaut had as
much as admitted that this was initiated because of Eileen's specific
request, but it had grown into a genuine friendship, and Yuki looked on them
both as older sisters. "That won't be for weeks, though."

	"Well, no," conceded Sailor Fomalhaut. "Last I checked, Jen-chan and
Eileen-chan were scheduled to be held over on Luna for a week or two
afterward, and then more time to get back."

	"Yeah." Yuki sighed. "I should probably work on my next letter to
him."

	"Probably. Though he may not have the time to answer it immediately. 
Did you ever get an answer to the last one?" Fomalhaut asked curiously.

	"Not yet. Then again, he did say he might be a bit slow to reply to
mail." She smiled slightly. "That's why I never worry when he's late; I
know he has so much to do."

	"And more now," Fomalhaut agreed, "Learning all the things about
being a senshi you can't just tell someone about."

	"Like?"

	Sailor Fomalhaut smiled and kissed Yuki's cheek. It had disturbed
Yuki the first time, but since then she'd realized Fomalhaut was simply one
of those people who loved to kiss, hug, cuddle, and generally touch people
she felt close to. "Can't say. Some things have to stay within the senshi,
you know. They don't call it the most exclusive sorority in the galaxy for
nothing."

	"Um. . . ."

	"Okay, so it's a sorority plus one." The senshi smiled, then rubbed
her chin speculatively. "That plus one will take a long time getting used
to. Pity your brother's gay, I'd *so* love to sleep with a male senshi!
There are just so many things you can't try with a non-senshi; the levels of
agility and flexibility are really just . . . anyway." She didn't quite
blush, but she did smile sheepishly at the younger girl. "Sorry about that."

	"It's okay," murmured Yuki, who wasn't at all sure it was.

	"Great. So, nothing you need or anything? Ready for school
tomorrow?"

	Yuki scratched her head. "Actually, I was wondering if I could visit
my father."

	Sailor Fomalhaut didn't quite frown. Her eyes tightened, though, and
her nostrils flared. "Oh?" she asked coolly.

	"Yes." She sighed at Fomalhaut's disapproving expression. "Please, I
know you don't care for him very much, but he's in his cell all the time. He
has no-one to talk to."

	"With good reason."

	"So you won't let me talk to him?"

	The senshi folded her arms on her rather ample chest. "I didn't say
that. Though I really don't see why you'd *want* to speak with him,
especially after everything he's done."

	Yuki sighed and closed her eyes. "He's still my father."

	"Anyone who slaps and beats their own children doesn't deserve to be
called a father. Not in my book." She sighed. "I don't suppose I'll get you
to change your mind, though, so I don't have a lot of choice. Tomorrow,
after school--and after your homework. Understood?"

	"Yes," said Yuki, staring down at the floor.

	Sailor Fomalhaut sighed and reached over, gently lifting up Yuki's
chin with a finger. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have spoken that way. It's just
that . . . I've seen too many other children in the situation you're in. I
won't say you're wrong for loving your father, but don't forget why he's in
prison, either." She stood, her high-heeled shoes not making a sound on the
hardwood floor. "I assume you'll want to attend his trial, as well."

	"Of course."

	"Right. I'll talk to your teachers about allowing you to miss
classes when it starts." She rolled her eyes. "That's more makeup work
you'll have to do."

	"I know," said Yuki. She smiled slightly, glancing back at Sailor
Mercury's picture. "It'll be worth it, though. I know Oniisan would have
wanted me to do it for him, since he's not here."

	"Right. So," said Sailor Fomalhaut in a much lighter tone, "How
about some celebratory ice cream?"

	Yuki giggled. "I'd love some."


Personal Suites of Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
28 August 3043
10:12 Lunar Standard Time

	The nicest thing about being Queen was being able to make love in
the bathtub at ten in the morning.

	At least, this was Serenity II's conclusion after two hours of doing
just that. To be fair, she'd started at eight, when her morning shower
turned into a morning shared shower with Hotaru, which in turn had turned
into a bath once neither of them could trust their legs to support them any
longer. They'd passed the time after that happily exploring each other's
bodies, bringing each other to the peak of pleasure again and again.

	Needless to say, the Queen's morning briefings had been postponed
indefinitely.

	Now both women lay comfortably intertwined in the bathwater, soap
suds clinging to their wet forms as they relaxed from their previous
exertions. Hotaru was first to speak. "That was nice."

	Serenity smiled, causing the water to ripple as she reached up to
stroke Hotaru's back. "That's a massive understatement, love."

	"Maybe. Though I doubt the others would be so thrilled if they knew
why you'd postponed the meetings."

	"Royal prerogative," said Serenity airily. "What's the point of
ruling an interstellar empire if I can't relax and spend a morning or two
lounging?"

	Hotaru giggled, nodding softly. "True enough. I doubt anyone will
figure just what we're up to, anyway. Especially not the other planet senshi."

	"It was my plan, yes." Her head tilted back, warm waters lapping at
her ears. "Speaking of our newest senshi, how are they finding themselves?"

	"Fairly well. Although Sailor Mercury seems to have run into a small
problem of his own."

	"Oh?"

	Hotaru nodded, playing with Serenity's long pink hair, which for now
was out of its usual ponytails. "Seems he's gotten a number of marriage
proposals, and he hasn't an idea what to do with them."

	"Politely refuse, of course. Not that hard, is it?"

	"Not normally," said Hotaru. "It's the volume that's a problem;
something like eight hundred a day." Serenity whistled. "That's about what I
said when I heard too. There's no way we can expect him to deal with that
much, even if he weren't doing a million other things every day. Sailor
Cassiopeia's got too much on her plate to deal with it, too, and they can't
be fobbed off on some junior flunky."

	"So, what are you suggesting?" 

	"Give them secretaries."

	"Secretaries?"

	"Yes, secretaries." Hotaru shook her head slowly. "I know it sounds
crazy to give teenagers their own staffs, especially when we agreed we were
going to go gradual with giving them the perks of the office, so to speak."
She shrugged. "I don't think it can be helped in this case, though. Aside
from fan mail, they're all working on full schedules, the media are still
clamoring for appearances and interviews, and . . . ." She smiled
sheepishly, reclining back into Serenity's arms. "And to be honest, I think
I underestimated how fast things would move. They're going to need
secretaries just to stay above water."

	"Okay, so we give them a secretary--"

	"No, I don't think you quite understand. They'll *each* need one.
Preferably two."

	Serenity blinked. "Two?"

	"I think they could manage with one, but I'd feel better with two."
She squirmed around in Serenity's embrace, ignoring--or at least trying
to--the pleasant feeling as their breasts slid against each other. "We keep
saying that we don't want to saddle them with the full responsibilities of a
planet senshi. Well, this is one of them, and one they don't really need to
carry. Not yet."

	"Hmm." Serenity tried to think of a way out of it, but she really
couldn't. The wild popularity of the six planet senshi had taken everyone by
surprise, and except for Sailor Venus, none of them seemed to like or
appreciate being celebrities. Giving them secretaries might be seen as
inflating already large egos, but she knew--and had had it reinforced
numerous times by others--this simply wasn't the case. Takeshi, in
particular, had significant self-esteem problems to work through. Or at
least, the small army of psychiatrists assigned to the senshi thought so.

	"Hmm," repeated Serenity. "What does Puu think?"

	"Haven't asked her," answered Hotaru, hiding her surprise at the
question. "I don't think she'd object, at least."

	"I suppose not. And we could always take them away later and say
they were a temporary measure. That wouldn't be too far from the truth." She
sighed and cuddled Hotaru even closer. The black-haired girl didn't object.
"Okay. I'll see if Diana can draw up a list."

	"List of what?" asked a small voice. 

	Both women started and turned to the door, simultaneously sinking
further into the water. Serenity breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw
who had spoken. "Diana, don't you ever knock?"

	The grey cat sat back on her haunches, a paw delicately reaching up
to nudge a whisker into place. "It's not easy for a cat to knock, you know."
She eyed the two with a tiny feline smile, her nose twitching. "I'm not
interrupting anything, am I?"

	"Not any more, thankfully. Otherwise I'd have thrown you out
instantly," growled Serenity. She smiled, though, as did Hotaru. "I'm going
to guess it was important enough to see us in person, though?"

	"Kind of." Diana had walked in on the two more than once while they
were in less than formal attire, to put it lightly, and really took little
interest in their sexual relations. "Most of today's meeting wasn't all that
critical, but there is the matter Sailor Mars was going to propose."

	Serenity and Hotaru blinked in unison, the latter sitting up and
turning to fully face Diana. "Sailor *Mars* had a proposal?"

	"And a good one, I thought. She's worried that there haven't been
any kinetic weapon attacks lately."

	Hotaru nodded. "I wouldn't be worried so much as relieved. We
haven't found anything that could have fired on us, so the best we can do is
hope they were isolated incidents." She caught Serenity's irritated snort.
"Yes, I know, but can we do anything else? Admitting we could get hit again
at any moment would be guaranteed panic."

	"I suppose not," admitted Serenity reluctantly. She glanced down at
Diana, leaning a dripping elbow over the edge of the tub. "So, what was
Mars's idea?"

	"We're already hammering space in all directions with radar pulses,
trying to get as much warning as possible before the next attack, right?"
Both women nodded. "Mars wants to send a number of scout ships out in the
most probable direction and try to extend that warning time."

	Hotaru frowned. "That would mean exposing the ships to an increased
risk."

	Diana nodded. "I thought that too, but she assured me--and a number
of senshi and admirals--simply using unmanned probes wouldn't work. They
don't have the endurance to put out those kinds of energy signatures for
long."

	"I see." Serenity rubbed her chin, then glanced at Hotaru. "You know
more than I do. Is it a good idea?"

	Hotaru smiled slightly and nodded. "It is, actually. The sort of
thing I would have thought of eventually . . . though I still don't like the
idea of leaving them out there to be vulnerable."

	"I don't see that they're any less vulnerable sitting in orbit,"
pointed out Serenity. "At least if we send them out they can do something
useful."

	"And if they meet whoever's responsible?"

	Serenity shrugged. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Her
eyes turned to Diana. "Tell Sailor Mars that we'll do it. I think she won't
mind working rather closely with Hotaru to coordinate things; it was her
idea, after all."

	"Right," said Diana slowly, ignoring Hotaru's slightly surprised
expression. "I'll tell her immediately; she was still at headquarters last I
checked."

	"Really?" Hotaru sat up, then blinked and moved out of the way as
Serenity stepped out of the tub, dripping. Her eyes clung to the Queen as
Serenity picked up a towel and began drying herself off. "I knew she was
eager, but that's a bit much."

	"Good impressions, and so forth." Diana stepped out of Serenity's
way, not particularly eager to get annoying drops of bathwater on her fur.
She'd just had it groomed yesterday.

	"Okay, then." Serenity smiled and held a hand out to her lover.
"Shall we go, then?"


Throne Room of the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
1 September 3043
12:00 Lunar Standard Time

	The marriage ceremony of Jennifer Sakachi and Eileen Pearcy began,
as so many often do, with music. This was where the similarities began to
come apart, though, for most music performed at weddings isn't specifically
written for that wedding, nor are they played by the full representation of
the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.

	It was enough to rattle even Sailor Jupiter's nerves.

	"Gods, can't they turn it down a bit?"

	"I don't think so," said Sailor Uranus. The two stood together at
parade rest, not yet required to stand at attention. "I think they're
general orders for an orchestra at a formal occasion: play as loud as you
can."

	"You know," whispered Sailor Mars conspiratorially from the other
side of Sailor Jupiter, "I bet we have the clout to tell them to play more
softly."

	"Not on your life," replied Jupiter. "Besides . . . I'm starting to
get used to it."

	Sailor Mars shrugged. "Well, I'm glad you are!"

	"Really, Mars," said Sailor Venus, "It's a simple matter of
adjusting your hearing. Just concentrate." By now, though, the orchestra was
already softening its volume. As one, the six newly-minted senshi made a
neat left face toward the rear of the room.

	The throne room was absolutely packed. Rows of seats were filled
with the press, dignitaries, guests, and of course senshi. Such a crowd
hadn't been seen since Serenity II's first address from the Lunar throne in
3036. Now, all stood as the Queen's honor guard arrived.

	It was a small guard, all things considered. With the new senshi
judged too junior to lead in the royal family, and their predecessors no
longer able to serve in official capacities, only Sailors Pluto and Saturn
walked before them, each carrying their particular badges of office: the
Time Key and the Silence Glaive. Walking at a slow, steady, almost ponderous
pace, they preceded the Queen Mother and her escort by exactly ten paces.

	The planet senshi braced to attention the moment Serenity I's foot
touched the black and white diagonal checkerboard of the throne room's
floor. At that precise instant, the orchestra switched to a fanfare whose
volume rivaled that of the music which had preceded it. All present couldn't
help but feel a shiver down their spine at the melodious notes of the Moon
Kingdom's national anthem.

	Neo Queen Serenity I was 1065 years old, but the spring of a
teenager was in her step as she entered with Prince Consort Endymion at her
right hand. She wore a long white dress as always, gold-looped trim at her
chest which perfectly matched the twin golden ponytails and odango of her
hair. Her clear blue eyes took in the assembled crowd, and she pursed her
lips into a smile which was still loved among the people of the Moon
Kingdom--if not quite in places like the North American Confederation.

	Next to her, Endymion wore his traditional black armor trimmed in
silver, a massive broadsword strapped at his waist. He held his wife's right
hand lightly, looking unbearably smug to be escorting the former Queen.

	Behind them was the trio of cats: Luna and Artemis side-by-side,
with Diana making up the bottom point of a triangle. As Diana's small feet
crossed the threshold, Sailor Jupiter took a single, long step forward. Her
head was held high as her lips parted.

	"All hail Her Serene Majesty, Serenity, the Third of her Name, born
unto this Earth as Tsukino Usagi, the Second of that Name, Sailor Senshi of
the Moon, Defender of Love and Justice, and Queen of the Moon Kingdom!" She
carefully kept her face straight, not wanting to betray her utter joy in
getting the title exactly right.

	Serenity II was not her mother. While theoretically a simple
concept, in reality few recognized how true this was. Her gait was subtly
different; less regal, yet more confident. Neither could be characterized as
being more rude than the other; it was just there. Serenity II gave the
impression of one who wouldn't go to any great lengths to avoid giving
offense.

	A ripple of movement followed her down the broad center aisle, as
those in the audience bowed, nodded their heads respectfully, or curtsied as
appropriate. She smiled, to be sure, but it wasn't the smile of her mother.
It was more polite, younger, and yet more serious.

	Sailor Mercury watched this with a slight smile of his own. He'd
been briefed on the very real possibility of having a camera fixed on him at
all times, but this wasn't the reason for his smile. Or rather, it was,
though not for any direct reason.

	With the exception of that first press conference, this was the
first public ceremony in which he had taken part while in his new senshi
uniform. The skintight blue shorts fit perfectly, without being constricting
or uncomfortable at all. He'd gotten over feeling self-conscious in it;
after all, he had to admit it was much better than having to wear a skirt.

	He blinked, suddenly recognizing what he felt. Pride. It wasn't
something he was particularly used to, and he had even less idea of what to
do about it. When he considered everything, though, he was in a uniform far
more prestigious than the green and black of the Royal Marine Corps. He drew
himself up even straighter, determined to look his best.

	Sailor Neptune was his opposite, both in line position and in
attitude. She tried hard not to let show her intense boredom and irritation
with the proceedings, but she couldn't help herself from impatiently
shifting from foot to foot. By mere millimeters, to be sure, but shifts
nonetheless. She didn't *like* ceremonies, and the prospect of sitting
through this one was enough to make her scream. 

	Silently, she urged the Queen to walk just a bit faster. She didn't
realize she was tapping her foot until Sailor Uranus delivered a savage yet
surreptitious elbow to her ribs.

	"Sorry," muttered Neptune with only the barest hint of true apology.
By now, the Queen was only halfway up the aisle.

***

	In an anteroom off and above the semicircular anteroom of the Throne
Room, Eileen Pearcy paced back and forth. Given that the room was barely two
meters by three, she found her pacing to be more irritating than
therapeutic--especially to the room's other occupant.

	"Eileen, dear, if you don't stop pacing you're going to wear
yourself out before you get to the altar!"

	"Throne, Mom, it's a throne. No altar."

	Marybeth shrugged and leaned against the smooth marble wall, feeling
totally composed in the Parisian-design dress which had been shipped to Luna
a week before for fitting. "Trust me, it's normal to be nervous, so listen
to your mother and try to relax."

	Eileen rolled her eyes with hands on hips. "I'm about to be married
to my girlfriend of thirteen years, in front of the entire bloody kingdom,
and you tell me to *relax*?"

	"Yes."

	A pause. "You're insane, Mom."

	"It's impolite to cast doubt upon your mother's sanity," returned
Marybeth with an impish grin. "Especially when it may well be hereditary."

	The bride laughed despite herself. "Then it's too late," said
Eileen, sticking out her tongue. With the tension broken, she blew a sigh
and flopped into one of the lushly padded chairs which had been provided for
their use. "Dammit, Mom, I'm so *nervous*!"

	Marybeth tsked and walked to her daughter, wrapping her arms around
her without regard for the expensive fabric and tailoring of their dresses.
"I told you that, dear. Like I said, I've been through this before."

	Eileen blew an exasperated sigh. "It's just . . . I don't usually
get nervous in front of crowds. I'm as much the antithesis of stage fright
as anything. But this is something a bit different."

	"Is it?"

	Eileen pondered this a moment. "Well, maybe this is just a bit more
personal."

	"Right. Well, anything you want to talk about before you do this?"

	"Yeah. Is it too late to change my mind?" Marybeth shook her head.
"Damn. Okay, they might as well get started, then."

	On cue, the small white door swung open, admitting the head and
shoulders of Sailor Cassiopeia. "Okay, you're up. Ninety seconds and you
come out."

	Eileen sighed, rising to her feet and straightening the pure white
of her dress. "Okay, thanks. Hey, is my hair okay?"

	Sailor Cassiopeia scowled and cast harried eyes over Eileen's hair.
She had a million things to do in a terribly short time, and boosting
Eileen's self-esteem rated very low on the list. "Yeah, sure, it's fine.
Eighty seconds." She slammed the door behind her as she departed, the breeze
disturbing the simple red, white, and blue ribbon which tied back Eileen's
hair.

***

	In a room which was the mirror image of Eileen's, on the opposite
side of the anteroom, Jennifer Sakachi was no less nervous, though she
wasn't quite as obvious in displaying it. Instead, she sat on one of the
chairs and nervously toyed with the hem of her dress, her blue eyes cast
down to the beige-carpeted floor.

	"Jen?"

	"Yes?" The redhead turned to glance up at her mother, who stood at
the door with her father.

	"How do you feel?"

	"Fine," she replied automatically. No reason to burden her parents
with things they couldn't control. "I just want to get things over with and
done."

	Isao smiled and turned, leaning against the cool wood of the door.
"Oh, honey, don't say that. This is the best moment of your life, you should
cherish it!"

	"Kind of hard to cherish it when her stomach is doing flip-flops,"
said the elder Jennifer dryly. Jen looked up sharply at this, and her mother
nodded knowingly. "You're doing a great job trying to hide it, but I know
how nervous you are. I felt the same way when I was marrying your father."

	Jen sighed and nodded, slumping her shoulders. She didn't look up
when her mother began massaging her shoulders and neck, fighting to loosen
tight, tense muscles. "How did you handle it?"

	"As I recall, I threw up about half an hour before the ceremony."
She smiled. "And even as I did, the only thing I could think of was that
your father wouldn't want to kiss me now."

	Isao blinked. "Um, you . . . that is, you--"

	"Mouthwash, dear," said Jennifer, winking at her husband. "And a
breath mint, to be safe."

	"I guess that explains the minty taste."

	"Exactly." She patted Jen on the back before sitting in the chair
next to her. "So it's okay to be nervous, really."

	Jen shook her head. "No, not really. I shouldn't be afraid . . . not
after everything I've been through. People trying to kill me, blow me up,
stab me . . . I mean, I've handled far worse than saying a few simple
words."

	"They're very simple," agreed her mother, "until you have to say
them."

	"I guess so."

	"Not worried are you about forgetting the vow, by the way?" asked
her father with a hint of worry. "I mean, I didn't mind so much when you
said you wanted to write your own, but why keep it secret?"

	Jen smiled sheepishly and shook her head, standing and walking over
to hold Isao's hand. "Actually, it's not really that. To be honest, we
didn't quite write our own.  It's only secret because it's . . . well,
secret." She giggled at Isao's questioning eyebrow. "You see, the words were
actually discovered during a dig around the Palace grounds. Apparently they
date to some Silver Millennium-era marriage ceremony, or something similar.
The translators aren't too sure yet, and there are some pretty interesting
finds that point to . . . well, anyway. I have a friend who works on the
digs, and it got passed on to me. I thought it fit."

	"How?"

	Jen waggled a finger at him, shaking her head. "You'll have to wait
with everyone else. Though I don't see why the press made such a big deal
about it."

	"Because they make a deal out of anything they can, of course,"
pointed out her mother, and Jen was forced to agree. A knock at the door
startled all three.

	"Hey guys. All ready?" asked Sailor Cassiopeia. Jen nodded quickly.
"Good, because we're just about ready for you." The senshi paused a moment,
then nodded and flashed a smile. "Have fun, okay? One minute."

***

	The Queen settled into her throne. It was about as comfortable a
seat as she'd ever sat upon, but she couldn't help but feel a bit
self-conscious as she did so. The crown she wore was much simpler, more a
tiara than anything, gold with just a few diamonds and a massive ruby cut
into the shape of a heart, inset with an opal crescent moon. Not heavy at
all, it rested lightly on her head, and she had to admit she liked how it
felt.

	Her throne was another matter. Large, ostentatious in its golden
splendor, it was impossible to ignore, or even to treat as any other seat.
Her secret dread was to sit upon it, and yet she had to in the time between
her entrance and the entrance of the couple.

	As she waited, she took a moment to look about at the audience. The
president of the European Union had made it after all, as had the heads of
state for the Southeast Asian Alliance, Arab Union, and Russian Federation.
China's premier had been unable to make it due to a stomach ailment, but had
sent his deputy premier in his place. North American leadership was still
unwelcome, and South America was still sorting itself out from the wars
which separated it from North America.

	In addition to the major confederation heads, there were quite a few
African dignitaries, headed by the president of Kenya. He sat proudly with
Sharifa's parents, and nodded slightly to the queen as her glance fell their
way.

	Serenity smiled and began to relax a bit. Perhaps this wouldn't be
so bad. After all, marrying two women who already loved each other immensely
should be a piece of cake. It bugged her, though, as she'd never performed a
wedding for anyone before, let alone two of her senshi. Add to that her
slight touch of stage fright at being televised to the largest audience in
human history, and no-one could really blame her for being a bit nervous.

	She sternly commanded her fears to subside. There was no time for
it, and besides she knew how silly it was. Whether there was one person
present or one trillion, she had a job to do, and she'd yet to fail at
anything she'd done. She wouldn't start now.

	Her fingers drummed on the arm of her throne as she watched the
planet senshi. Pluto and Saturn were flanking the throne at left and right,
respectively, and the six newcomers waited in a line. None of them showed
any outward signs of nervousness, and she nodded approvingly. Good. For her
part, she remembered the first time she'd--

	Serenity, along with everyone else in the chamber, jumped in
surprise as the sharp, loud bang of a knocker striking against brass sounded
through the door. The sound was repeated twice, deliberately, and then fell
silent. The two senshi standing guard there glanced at each other briefly,
then nodded and swung the doors open just wide enough for a single senshi to
step through, blonde with curly hair. She walked forward five steps, then
bowed lightly. "Your Majesty, announcing Ladies Jennifer Sakachi and Eileen
Pearcy, with party!" She smiled genuinely and stepped out of the way of
the cameras, as the huge double doors swung completely open at last.

	They'd been through it countless times in rehearsals, and perhaps
even more in their own minds, but Jen and Eileen's hearts still skipped a
beat once the ornate golden doors opened, showing them the full splendor of
a fully packed throne room. The lights, sounds, smells, all of it was almost
too much for them to handle--especially when the Royal Philharmonic struck
up the operatic passage which had survived over a thousand years and was
still known simply as the Wedding March.

	"Here comes the bride," Eileen muttered under her breath. though she
yearned to take hold of Jen's hand, but she couldn't. Not yet. Technically,
she couldn't even glance at her for support until they were both at the
throne, and so she simply looked ahead, past the expanse of people and red
carpet, and stepped forward right on cue, their feet rustling against the
long, lacy hems of their dresses.

	Jen wanted to scream with happiness. She'd waited a rather long time
for this, and now it was here at last. It was a struggle not to skip her way
down the aisle, making herself keep in step with Eileen in perfect military
precision. Their dresses rustled, and she suppressed a giggle as two senshi
stepped out from the audience to pick up the long, pure white trains.

	Alongside them were their parents. Jen wondered if it were possible
for any parents to possibly show more pride than they were. In fact, she
could almost swear her father was strutting. Her fingers wiggled at her
sides, cold and sweaty in the thin lace of her gloves, counting out the
steps as they walked.

	Serenity stood, as did the rest of the audience. She was never quite
sure who started it--perhaps it started in a dozen places at once--but soon
she had to smile as over a thousand people clapped and applauded the couple
as they marched down the carpet. One or two catcalls and whistles sounded
out, and she giggled softly at the expression on the orchestra's conductor.
He seemed unsure whether to be angry at the applause drowning out the
performance of his players, or happy, as everyone was, for the couple.

	Eileen blushed slightly, her eyes flicking back and forth.
Everywhere, they met smiling faces and clapping hands. She could pick out a
friend or two from the audience, people she'd met working at the Palace,
friends she'd made on Hinansho, and of course the senshi. She could only
imagine what they thought of her; she rarely wore dresses, and this one, a
pure, perfect white with thin gauzy veil, was totally unlike her. She had to
admit she looked good in it, though; her dress, identical to Jen's, had a
subtly plunging neckline which left her shoulders totally bare, yet showed
only a small part of her cleavage.

	Jen smiled as well, recognizing a good deal more. She nodded to the
outgoing ex-senshi, and was particularly pleased and surprised to see the
entire faculty of the Royal University's Department of History--many of
whose members had been on the faculty at the University of Crystal
Tokyo--cheering her on.

	It felt like hours--Eileen swore up and down it had been--but it
took only seventy-eight seconds for them to reach the Queen and her throne.
Both curtsied, as did their mothers. Their fathers settled for low bows, and
Eileen snickered as her father nearly lost the top hat he'd brought to the
occasion. There was a rustle as the audience was seated, now audible as the
orchestra quieted.

	"Honored guests," said Serenity in a soft, yet carrying voice, "we
are gathered here, before the eyes of all humanity, to witness and celebrate
the love shared between Jennifer Sakachi and Eileen Percy, to recognize it,
to cherish it, and to put the seal of law and royalty upon it.

	"Everyone knows these two. They've been at the forefront of some of
the most important events of the last decade, and proven their bravery and
loyalty to the Crown, and to the people of our great nation. And yet, few
truly recognize how devoted they are, not only to such abstract ideas as
country or duty, but to each other. I tell you now, and defy anyone to prove
otherwise, that these two women have a deep, abiding love for each other
which exceeds any other I have ever seen."

	She smiled slightly. "They aren't perfect, of course. No human being
has been, is, or ever will be. They have their disagreements, their fights,
their quarrels. We all do. But as a great philosopher said nearly three
thousand years ago, love is kind. Love is patient. Love, above all,
*endures*, and that is precisely what these two have done for thirteen
years. Some might consider this ceremony overdue, or perhaps superfluous. I
see it as what it is: an affirmation, before the kami and before humanity,
of love. Love being one of the two pillars upon which our great kingdom is
founded, it is fitting and proper that I be the one to seal the bonds
between these two here today."

	Jen gulped. So did Eileen.

	"Ladies and gentlemen, if any now here knows of any reason why these
two women should not be united together today, let them speak now, or
forever remain silent." A pin would have been deafening in the silence which
followed, and the Queen nodded. Her hand reached up into nothing, and when
it returned, she held a small, ordinary looking dagger, two-edged with an
ivory handle. The nondescript knife had been neither honed nor polished in
the millennia since it had been buried in lunar dust and rock, yet now it
shone bright as the day it had been forged, just a few floors below the
throne room in the old Silver Millennium's premier blacksmith's.

	The Queen smiled, mostly to quell the slight stir of alarm from
those in the audience who hadn't been warned what was to come. The smile
stayed on her face, even as she pulled the glove from Jen's right hand, then
Eileen's. Both scraps of lace fell, unnoticed, to the floor, as she held the
knife straight in front of her.

	Serenity gave the smallest of nods, and both Jen and Eileen pressed
their palms against the blade, wincing minutely as their skin was cut. With
blood welling up and mingling in their hands, they spoke in absolute perfect
unison as they looked into each other's eyes.

	"Blood for blood, bone for bone, life for life, until only we two
stride the worlds. My life is in your hands, my blood is in your veins. Hold
me well and I will lend you my strength; break your bond and may we both
perish. Friendship I swear to you, an Oath of clasped hands and shared
hearts."

	The Queen withdrew the dagger, the crimson blood upon it already
dissolving away. Jen and Eileen gave their hands a tight, tender squeeze,
both feeling an odd tingling running from their palms up through their arms
and into their entire bodies. A sense of . . . joining. Of rightness.

	"As Queen of the Moon Kingdom, I pronounce you wed. You may kiss."

	Jen reached for Eileen's veil with a trembling left hand, totally
unwilling to let go of her right. Eileen did the same, slowly, wonderingly.
The two looked at each other as if for the first time, their hearts racing
as they stared. Neither made the first move; both did, and their heads
tilted forward as they embraced in a long, tender, passionate kiss.

	The applause was deafening. The Royal Philharmonic tried its best to
overcome the noise as it played, but was totally overwhelmed by the cheers
and shouts of joy which accompanied the now married couple's kiss, which
showed no signs of stopping.

	Outside, in the vacuum of space, thousands more spectators watched
the biggest fireworks show in history. The pyrotechnics had been more than a
little complicated to design, but they performed flawlessly. Starbursts
exploded all over the Lunar surface, both in Eileen's red, white, and blue,
and Jen's blue and green, visible even on Earth's night side.

	Inside, there were no shockwaves to affect them. The flashes of
cameras more than compensated, though, and it was to those flashes that Jen
and Eileen finally opened their eyes. Both women looked about, smiling and
waving their left hands--they still refused to let go of the right--at the
multitude. Eileen caught a glimpse of the six new planet senshi, clapping as
wildly as anyone else. Sailor Mars seemed to be jumping up and down, and
Sailor Neptune raised an exultant fist as their eyes met. Jen saw Sailor
Pluto, her normally stern face creased with a tiny, happy smile, and she saw
the wistful, longing expression in Sailor Saturn's eyes--an expression
matched in the eyes of her Queen. 

	Jen smiled at them both. Their time would come, and she only hoped
she'd be invited back for it.

	Serenity leaned close to them both, almost having to shout over the
mad noise. "You two go now! See you at the reception!"

	"Yes, thank you, Your Majesty!" they replied, then giggled as they
were still speaking together. They looked at each other, both feeling, if
only subconsciously, the love and happiness they felt, and nodded. Their
right hands had to break now, but Eileen's right quickly grasped Jen's left.
Thus joined, they turned to fully face the crowd, which resulted in even
louder cheers.

	Both women waved as they stepped down from the throne, being pelted
with salt, rice, and confetti from both sides of the aisle. A careful
observer would have noted Jen's right hand showed not a sign of having been
cut just moments before, but there was little time to dwell on such things.
Not then. Now it was time to celebrate, and as the happily married couple
walked down the red carpet, preparations were nearly completion for the
biggest wedding reception since Neo Queen Serenity had married Prince
Endymion.


Grand Ballroom of the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
16:32 Lunar Standard Time

	"Aw man, not *another* toast?" Sailor Neptune kicked her foot in
disgust. "At this rate we're *never* gonna eat! And what about the
presentation of gifts?"

	"Patience, patience," soothed Sailor Uranus. "I think this is the
last one."

	"Can't be," she retorted. "It's enough to make me want to trade with
Sailor Mercury."

	Uranus raised an eyebrow. They both stood at the door of the
ballroom, which was presently filled with quite a few round tables, and a
single long one at one end, where the royal family and the newlyweds sat.
The planet senshi were mostly there for show, as were Sailors Mercury and
Venus in the throne room--where Sailor Cassiopeia was holding a press
conference--and Sailors Jupiter and Mars, who were at headquarters. "You'd
*volunteer* to be with her?"

	"Beats hanging around here and listening to every low-level diplomat
on the Moon raise a toast to the couple. I think they've gotten the point."

	"I don't know, I think it's kind of cute," admitted Sailor Uranus.
She smiled and waved for the ninth time at Jen, who waved back. "Funny. I
was picking up balls for her just a few months ago."

	"Huh?"

	"Oh, I was ball girl at a tournament she played in back on Hinansho.
Before, well . . . all of this." She gestured at her uniform. "I never
imagined I'd be standing here, not in a million years."

	"Ah . . . well, yeah, I suppose so." Sailor Neptune smiled, looking
over Uranus and sighing. Pity she had to be straight. A damn pity. "Anyway,
it's getting to be really stifling here." She concentrated briefly, and
heard a click in her ear. "Hey, Merc?"

	It took a moment for the reply to come, and when it did, it was a
bit breathless. "Yes?"

	"You're not in any trouble, are you?"

	"Oh no, not at all. Just had to run and stop a thief."

	"A thief?"

	"Yeah." She could hear him sigh. "Someone apparently wanted to walk
off with one of the chairs as a souvenir. He was a surprisingly good
runner."

	"Aha. Well, I hope everything's okay now." She watched with mild
interest as those at the head table stood and made their way to the dance
floor, which was of course welcomed by the requisite cheering and applause.
This was louder, and more boisterous--many here hadn't been able to get
invitations to the wedding, and were the sort she knew Sakura would look
down her nose upon. Neptune didn't mind at all; she'd even found her old
physics teacher there, and had spent some time chatting with him.

	"Pretty much, yes. How about there?"

	"Just starting the first dance." She blinked at the choice of song,
then shrugged. If the newlyweds wanted what sounded like twentieth century
rhythm and blues--a genre she took a slight passing interest in--then they
were welcome to it. "Say, how'd you like to swap? Hang out with your old
teach."

	The silence on the other end stretched a bit too long. "Um, I'm here
with Venus, you know."

	"Yeah, well, you can't make an omelet without breaking a few legs,
and all that."

	"Don't you mean eggs?"

	"Whatever. Go ahead, come on. I'll be fine with Sailor Venus,
really."

	"Well, if you say so. I'm on my way." There was a soft click as the
connection closed, and Sailor Neptune pushed herself off the wall.

	On the dance floor, which was really just a cleared off area of
wooden floor between the long head table and the many round tables of main
seating, Jen looked up from Eileen's shoulder. Her eyes lazily traced the
blue-green of Sailor Neptune's shorts retreat from the room. "Hm. Neptune
left?"

	"Oh?" asked Eileen. She took little notice of it, concentrating
rather on Jen's warm body against hers. "I hadn't noticed."

	"It's probably nothing," said Jen. She gave her wife another gentle
squeeze as the two swayed with the music. "I don't ever want to let you go,"
she murmured.

	Eileen nodded. "Same here. You don't think it had to do with the
whole knife thing, do you?"

	"I doubt it. It was just ceremonial, after all, that's why we
decided to do it that way."

	"I guess so." Eileen snickered. "Though my mom was steamed. She
thought we were going to do the whole 'sickness and in health, till death do
us part' thing. And my stepfather . . . he's squeamish about blood. Didn't
know it until today, but there you are."

	"Sorry."

	"It's okay." Eileen rubbed her back gently. "You couldn't have
known. Besides, I wouldn't trade what I'm feeling now for the universe."

	"Neither would I," agreed Jen. "It's just too bad the old planet
senshi couldn't be here. I had an idea about--"

	The room went completely dark. As it did, the floor shook. It was a
single, sharp shock which sent almost everyone who wasn't seated tumbling to
the floor. Then there came another, and another, punctuated by dim flashes
as the room's emergency lighting flickered to life. Jen had just enough time
to look for and find Eileen's face in the gloom, holding her hand tightly.

	Then the floor went out from under them.


Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
16:40 Lunar Standard Time

	Sailor Jupiter had just enough time to glance up at the status
screens, simultaneous with the flashing of a red priority signal light. She
hadn't time to see who it was from, however, before the room shook. She'd
been through earthquakes before, but knew instinctively this wasn't one. It
felt subtly wrong.

	The chamber shook again, then again. She glanced up at the ceiling,
but it didn't seem to be in any trouble, which was good. She'd asked
for--and received--the HQ watch for the day mostly out of her desire to
prove herself. A pity something actually had to go wrong, though.

	"Jupiter!" Her head snapped around, then down, to see Sailor Mars.
She'd never quite seen Mars look so afraid, even in the worst and most
realistic simulators. "It's another KE attack!"

	"Right," replied Jupiter, not daring to doubt her for a second. It
had to be, and she damned whoever was responsible. They'd picked an awful
time, for all six of the former planet senshi weren't on the Moon at all.
Immediately after the wedding they'd found things to do in orbit or on
Earth, and she needed their expertise badly. She wanted someone to tell her
what to do.

	"But you're in charge," she whispered to herself. A cool steel came
into her eyes, and she nodded. "Right," she repeated more loudly. The senshi
strode to the railing of the crow's nest in which she stood, looking at the
status display screens. As of yet, there wasn't all that much to be seen,
but the computers were estimating multiple impact points along the walls of
Mare Serenitatis, with a few sprinkled inside the Mare itself. Mare Crisium
remained untouched for now, though she couldn't count on that to last.

	"Okay," she said in a calm, clear voice which cut across the chatter
of the suddenly-busy room. All there knew the voice of command when they
heard it. "We're going to first stage alert. Seal off all passageways and
airlocks immediately. No drill." A blinking icon appeared in the bottom
right of her visor: Mercury. She ignored it. "Dispatch medical teams to the
affected areas. I need a status on the Queen. Any word on the pickets?"

	"None, ma'am," answered a comm tech. Another was speaking into her
microphone, informing the Royal Star Navy, as well as the Marine Corps and
Army, that they should prepare for the worst. "They say they didn't see
anything at all on their sensors. Vulcan is backtracking--"

	"No time," snapped Jupiter. Another icon in her visor: Venus,
quickly joined by Neptune. "Sailor Mars, I need you to get down to--"

	"INCOMING!" The scream could have come from anyone. It soon didn't
matter, though, as RSN HQ shook as it never had shook before. She gripped
the railing tightly for support, saw Mars get bowled over and fall over,
landing on her feet.

	Jupiter's brown eyes lifted up to the flickering screens. Direct
hits to Green and Brown sectors, a near miss on Magenta--my God, she
thought, there's a major life support center there. "Start moving people
down to the shelters, NOW!"

	"Aye aye, ma'am," replied the head comm tech, even as headquarters
shook to another hit. "Ma'am, the Queen is secure in the Palace, we think."

	Sailor Mars vaulted the railing--no mean feat, considering it was
three meters above the floor--and landed next to Jupiter. "You *think*?"

	"That's what I'm getting. I'm sorry, things are really quite
confused. Our communications systems are in disarray, I'm . . . okay,
preliminary reports show some sort of damage to the Palace. We aren't sure
what kind, Sailor Procyon is . . . wait, we lost her." The tech frowned.
"I'm losing a *lot* of channels, ma'am, we've got severe comm damage."

	"Duly noted. Can you get me Sailor Saturn, at least?"

	"Trying. Switching to tertiary backups."

	Sailor Jupiter sighed briefly, trying to think of anything else to
do. "Any ideas, Mars?"

	"Can't think of any. Just try to figure out what's happened and get
to work rescuing anyone who needs help."

	"That works. God knows things are bad enough."

	Things, of course, chose this point at which to get worse.


Throne Room of the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
16:46 Lunar Standard Time

	"Is everyone all right?" Sailor Venus asked, flicking a flashlight
from nowhere and shining it about. The beam was clearly visible in the dust
which floated about the darkened room, and a small corner of her mind
wondered why the emergency lights hadn't activated. "Anyone hurt?"

	"My leg . . . ."

	"I've got it, Venus," said Sailor Cassiopeia. She sounded calm and
confident, for which Sailor Venus was grateful. She wasn't at all sure she
could handle someone panicking on her. "You check on the others."

	Sailor Venus nodded, picking her way through the rubble. Perhaps,
she reflected as she moved through the dusty room, rubble was too strong a
word, for the majority of what she was stepping through was simply
overturned chairs. Now and then she heard her boots step in something which
could only be broken glass, and she glanced up to check the chandeliers. Her
visor augmented the dim light as best it could, but she still couldn't be
too sure. Her best guess told her they'd fallen, though.

	Scowling, she continued to work her way along, switching her visor
to infrared and looking for bodies. Fortunately, those few she found were
ambulatory, and only had minor injuries from falling down and hitting their
heads on the furniture. Good.

	She sighed, wishing Sailor Mercury was still there. He'd left just a
few minutes ago without explanation, and the thought of being left alone
with Sailor Cassiopeia to ride herd on all these journalists made her want
to scream in frustration.

	"Hey there!" Sailor Venus whipped around, raising a finger at the
warm body she saw entering the room, then relaxed as an additional sidebar
showed the magical signature.

	"Sailor Neptune?"

	"In the flesh. Speaking of which, you really should have hit the
reception. Plenty of eats there."

	Sailor Venus frowned. "What the hell are you doing here?"

	"Bad luck. I was on my way up before we got hit. Do you have any
idea what's going on?"

	"Another kinetic attack. Has to be." She looked around and above
her, as if for clues. There were none, though, and the only noise now was
that of reporters and photographers hustling out of the room, escorted by
Sailor Cassiopeia. "Where's the Queen?"

	"No idea. I left her in the ballroom." She concentrated, opening a
link to Sailor Uranus. "Uranus?" 

	Seconds ticked by, then a weak groan. "Y-yes?"

	"What's going on down there?" She blinked at a chirp, then saw that
Venus had joined in on the conversation.

	"Don't know . . . things are just a mess." Another pause. Some
coughing, and the rustling of something heavy being moved aside. "Damn, this
one's dead. Okay, the Queen is secure. Saturn hustled her out in a hurry,
I'm not sure where she is right now. Don't ask me where anyone else is,
though; it's just chaos here."

	Neptune nodded. "Same here. Keep an eye out for Mercury, I sent him
down there before all this started. And keep trying to get through to
Jupiter, she's not answering my calls."

	"Will do. Out."

	Sailor Venus sighed. "This is a fine way to start tenure."

	"Could be worse. C'mon, we need to see if there's anyone else around
here."


Somewhere in the Moon Palace
16:49 Lunar Standard Time

	Sailor Uranus closed her connection and sighed, picking her way over
to the next heap of warm bodies. Her visor was glitching, it seemed; her
infrared picture was flickering with each step. Another problem to contend
with. She sighed, then blinked as the visor began identifying this tangle.
"Sakachi-sensei!"

	She hurried over, frenziedly tossing aside blocks of concrete and
brick, briefly thanking her gloves for insulating her from the sharp, jagged
edges. "Sakachi-sensei! Pearcy-san!"

	"Mmmph. Just Eileen-chan'll do," came a muffled voice. Uranus pulled
out a flashlight, shining it in the bruised face of Eileen Pearcy.

	"Are you all right?" asked Uranus.

	Eileen licked her lip, which was slightly bloody. "Don't think so.
Hurts to breathe. She shifted slightly, hissing at the pain, but determined
to get to her feet. "Where's Jen?"

	Uranus was already on it. She continued digging, finally finding a
pale hand and taking hold of it. "She has a pulse, at least. Weak, though, I
think she may be unconscious."

	"Shit. Hell of a wedding party." Eileen pushed herself up to a
sitting position, gritting her teeth and putting a hand to her side. "Damn,
this hurts!"

	"Stay still, please!" Sailor Uranus struggled to recall all her
lessons of first aid as she flipped through visor views, ignoring the other
moans and cries for help from the gloom and darkness. "I think you're right.
Two broken ribs; doesn't look like they've punctured the lungs, though. Lots
of bruising, too. But you should be fine otherwise."

	Eileen smiled weakly. "Gee, thanks. How about Jen?"

	"I don't know." She frowned and pushed away Eileen's hand, which was
reaching for her wife. "No, don't. You could injure yourself even worse;
I'll handle it." She scrabbled through the debris even more frantically,
exposing more and more of Jen's body, and frowning at what she found.
Something dark and sticky stained Jen's formerly pristine white dress, and
she didn't need her visor's chemical analysis to tell her what it was. "We
need a doctor, fast."

	"Great," snarled Eileen, more from frustration at not being able to
do anything for her wife than any anger at the senshi. "First we have to
figure out what the hell happened!"

	Sailor Uranus stood, casting her flashlight about. "I don't know. I
remember falling down, and then . . . I don't know. Sailor Neptune is up in
the throne room with Cassiopeia and Venus. I don't know where anyone else
is." She balled her hand into a fist, glaring up at the inky blackness where
a ceiling should be. "I don't know *anything*!"

	A glint of light from far away caught her eye. She turned, and
breathed in a sharp sigh of relief as her visor penetrated the gloom and
darkness to find Sailor Mercury. "Mercury!"

	"Yep!" The boy carefully picked his way along, now and then stopping
to check on the people he found. When he finally arrived next to Uranus, his
expression was much more subdued. "There's a lot of injured people here.
Some dying." He glanced down at Jen's unmoving form and gasped. "Is she--"

	"No," said Uranus quickly, casting a sidewards glance at Eileen. The
brunette was holding Jen's hand tightly now, whispering encouragement.
"Internal injuries and loss of consciousness, but I don't think she's in
danger of her life. Or at least, no more than any of us are." She ran a hand
through dusty hair. "Kami, what could have *happened?*"

	"Wish I knew," Mercury answered. "The Queen's safe?"

	"Went out with Sailor Saturn. I don't know why, presumably . . .
um. Did you hear something?"

	"Not really," said Mercury, continuing to scan with his flashlight.
"Just lots of people who need help." He frowned, trying again to raise
Sailor Jupiter, then giving up and getting Sailor Mars. "Mars!"

	"Sailor Mercury! Are you all--"

	"I'm fine, so is Uranus." He gave a brief rundown of the situation.
"So we need as many medics down here as you can spare, stat!"

	"Right! I'll try to get them as soon as I can . . . things are
really confused up here. Lots of damage, and AAAAAH!" Her scream cut off
with heart-stopping suddenness, and Mercury shivered in dread.

	"Sailor Mars? Sailor Mars!" The connection remained dead.

	"BEHIND!" The voice was Sailor Uranus's, and it took him a fraction
of a second too long to recognize it, recognize the word, realize what was
happening. It was time he didn't have.

	A giant fist struck his back with frightful speed, sending him
flying forward. His arms pinwheeled wildly for a moment before training took
over, and he tucked himself into a ball before slamming into the hard,
unforgiving brick of a wall. The impact would have killed a normal human,
but he was far from normal now, and he shook his head clear as he gathered
himself back up from the ground. Coughing, he looked back in the direction
he'd come, and saw illuminated in the glow from his fallen flashlight a
creature from his nightmares. "Uranus!"

	The other senshi had already seen it. She whirled, getting the
creature in her sights, and then it struck with the same devastating force.
He blinked, then grinned, as he realized what had happened.

	The alien's fist stopped just short of Sailor Uranus's chest. Space
rippled, concentric glowing green circles spreading out from the point of
impact, and Sailor Uranus grunted in surprise. But the fist was stopped, and
she smiled as well.

	"Thank you, Your Majesty," she whispered to herself, and then it was
all business. She didn't know what stood before her, but it had attacked
first, and that made the rules of engagement painfully simple.

	Her right foot flew up, flying forward with the reflexes and
training imbued to her both by her senshi teachers and years of playing the
goalkeeping position, and a magical green boot connected with a definitely
fragile humanoid chin. The alien went flying back into the darkness, and
Sailor Uranus quickly looked behind her at Jen and Eileen. "Get her out!"
Eileen nodded, knowing she was in no position to help, and quickly picked up
her wife in a fireman's carry, scurrying away from the battle.

	Sailor Uranus took a deep breath. It was a battle, and one she
hadn't really thought she'd have to fight. Not so soon. But it was here, and
she relaxed slightly as she felt Sailor Mercury settle in next to her. Two
on one made for very good odds, and she took a moment to study her opponent
while it recovered itself.

	Like all teenagers, she'd seen her share of action and science
fiction movies, but she'd also been in a position to see actual
extraterrestrials, thanks to her mother's work in xenobiology. As such,
she'd known that humanoid alien life was decidedly rare, and what stood
before her was no exception.

	It tottered on three legs. The fourth appeared to have been damaged
in its fall, and now simply dangled at its side. The body was long,
serpentine, and a dark grey in the dim lighting. The thing's torso was
narrow, almost triangular, with two spindly arms on each side, the bottom
two terminating in disturbingly sharp dagger points. The head was similarly
narrow and long, with inky black ovals for eyes. There seemed to be no
mouth, no ears, no nose. It was an ugly creature.

	Sailor Mercury frowned. Ugly, but decidedly beatable, and he had no
illusions of its intentions, especially not so quick on the heels of attack.
"Ideas?" he murmured under his breath.

	"Magic. I don't like the idea of tangling with him hand to hand."

	"Agreed," nodded Mercury. "On three. One, two, THREE!"

	"Uranus Sirocco Blast!"

	"Mercury Ripples Expand!"

	A breeze ruffled both teenagers' hair, blowing it gently at first,
then more strongly, as Uranus raised her gloved hands in the air. Golden
motes swirled around them as she spun faster and faster, a matching pattern
at her feet. Her spin stopped in an instant as she stretched her arms out
toward the thing, palms out. A blast of wind stretched from her hands,
carrying with it the golden sparkles of sand.

	At the same time, Sailor Mercury made a much more understated
movement. He simply raised his right hand, then snapped his wrist to point
his index finger toward the target. A single drop of water found its way
through the air, striking the creature's nose. As it struck, the drop
rippled like water in a pond. Indeed, it seemed there *was* a pond, albeit
a vertical one, ripples spreading outward from the single drop . . . which
was now smashing into the alien with dreadful force.

	Sailor Uranus's attack struck simultaneously. A veritable hurricane
of tiny particles of sand blasted into the beast, stripping away armor and
skin remorselessly, eliciting a howl of pain. The beast careened through a
wall which had had enough abuse for one day, and subsequently collapsed as
it passed through.

	Both senshi looked at each other, then pumped their fists. "YES!"

	"Um," said Sailor Uranus as the excitement died down, "We should
check to make sure we got it."

	Sailor Mercury nodded, pulling up a link to call the other planet
senshi as he did. "Guys, we have an intruder alert. Say again, intruder
alert in the palace!"


Royal Star Navy Headquarters
Mare Crisium, Luna
16:56 Lunar Standard Time

	"Great timing," muttered Sailor Jupiter. She winced as the cracking
sound of pistol fire rang out again, superheated plasma splitting apart the
molecules of air.

	Sailor Mars looked at her with wide open eyes. "That means there's
more than one of them!"

	"Four at last count, ma'am," said the third person in their group, a
lieutenant commander who'd instinctively decided her best chance of living a
few more minutes was to cling to the senshi. "Not counting the one they
killed themselves." The auburn-haired woman shuddered, then reloaded her
weapon. "Nasty buggers."

	"No argument there," agreed Sailor Jupiter. "They do have us in a
bit of a quandary, though." The other two nodded.

	The attack had caught everyone by surprise. First, the screams from
outside hallways. Sailor Jupiter had ordered someone to investigate. Of
course. She kicked herself, but a part of her stubbornly insisted that it
had been the right thing to do. She hadn't known there could possibly be
intruders in the heart of the Navy's strength, and she'd never thought to
check the surveillance cameras.

	Now, the image of the carnage in that hallway was on one of the main
display screens, but she didn't need it to see what she faced. Four things
roamed the floor of the control room, killing those few who remained alive,
and occasionally turning on each other. It was up to her and Sailor Mars to
stop them, somehow, and she hadn't a clue how.

	"Our fire still isn't having any effect?" asked Sailor Jupiter far
more calmly than she felt, glancing at the senior officer present. He was a
full commander, but his field was logistics, not command. He gave a short,
jerky nod as he fired another shot at the invaders.

	"N-none, ma'am. It's like it's not even touching them!" He shook his
head in frustration, sliding out the spent charge cartridge and replacing it
with another. The hot, used one glowed a soft cherry red as it landed on the
floor, and Sailor Mars gulped as she saw it.

	"Rifles?" Jupiter asked coolly.

	"The nearest locker is two levels down." The lieutenant commander
jerked her thumb toward the only exit . . . five meters beyond one of the
roaming aliens. "We'd never make it."

	"Right." Sailor Jupiter nodded. "No choice, then. Mars and I will
provide covering fire. The rest of you, get out and get help."
Communications were a shambles throughout Mare Crisium, and she doubted
they'd manage to find more than a platoon of Marines. Worse, she doubted
that there were only two incursions. There were likely to be many, and in
that case the Marines could have more on their minds than just a half dozen
people here. Especially, she thought bitterly, when two of those half dozen
should very well be expected to be able to take care of themselves.

	Sailor Mars blinked. "Um . . . ." The others nodded, though.
Together, the commander and lieutenant commander picked up the last person
there, a rating who'd suffered a major cut to his thigh, and prepared to
run.

	Sailor Jupiter smiled comfortingly. "We'll handle them. It'll be
just like in the sims."

	"If you say so," said Sailor Mars doubtfully. She stood, looking out
on the room once again, trying desperately not to dwell too long on the
liberal splashes of red which covered computers and floors. "I just didn't
expect it would be so soon."

	"Well, life is full of surprises." She nodded to the officers,
commanding herself to ignore the icy ball of fear in her gut. "GO!" With
that, she sprang out over the railing and into the fray. Her boot landed in
a puddle of blood, and she soon found herself slipping. While she careened
out of control, the mistake saved her from the razor-sharp blade of the
alien she'd jumped past, brushing by her as it swung for her head. She
landed on the ground, skidding on the blood, already rolling back up to her
feet.

	Almost immediately, she was sent flying, victim of a punch from her
left. Her shield manifested itself obediently, though, and the only real
hurt she faced came from the computer she bumped into. As her visor laid out
her situation, she noted a red and white streak to her side. Sailor Mars
hadn't hesitated to enter the fray. Good.

	"Jupiter Arboreal Crush!" she screamed, twirling and throwing a
glowing ball of energy at her enemy. As it flew though the air, branches
grew out from it as if from a seed, but faster. Much faster. Far too fast
for her target to evade it, and suddenly it was surrounded in the crushing
embrace of wooden branches which were stronger than steel, squeezing and
squeezing until quite suddenly, it wasn't moving anymore.

	Jupiter took no time to relish her victory, however. Three more
remained.

	"Mars Inferno Immolate!"

	Well, perhaps two. She watched, dumbfounded at the change which had
overtaken her diminutive friend. Gone was the scared, nervous kid;
replacing her was a cool, yet vicious professional who dispensed death
freely. Her visor flashed with light as she spun again, hurling a ball of
flame at another snarling alien, engulfing it in flames hotter than the sun.
It howled as it was incinerated, leaving a pile of ashes on the floor.

	"Senshi, this is Jupiter. We've taken an attack, but we've got them
on the run!"


Throne Room of the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
17:01 Lunar Standard Time

	"Roger that, Jupiter. It's quiet here," said Sailor Venus. She and
Sailor Neptune brought up the rear guard as they and Sailor Cassiopeia
hustled the journalists to safety--or at least, tried to. Two passageways
had been blocked, forcing them to find detours, and some of the Terrans were
on the verge of panic.

	Sailor Venus couldn't blame them. While it was true things were
quiet *now*, they'd heard disturbing screams and howls from other floors.
None of it seemed to be near them--yet--but Cassiopeia hadn't seen any
reason to take chances, and the planet senshi agreed. As soon as the
civilians could be dumped in a reasonably safe spot, they would try to
rejoin the Queen and form a defense around her.

	This was, of course, contingent on finding where the Queen was.
Nobody seemed to know, and that was more terrifying than almost anything
else Venus had learned thus far. "Hey, Neptune?"

	"Hmm?"

	"Why is all this happening?"

	Sailor Neptune blinked. "You know, that's the stupidest thing I've
heard all day. What the hell do you mean, 'Why is all this happening?' We're
being attacked!"

	"I *know* that," Sailor Venus said coldly. "I meant why now? Why
here? You should always know your enemy, but right now we don't know
anything about this one."

	"Oh, but we do. They're a bunch of cowards who prefer to strike from
long distance. The hits on the park dome and HMS Furuhata was just warm ups,
and now they're beginning their main thrust!"

	"Maybe. But Jupiter and Uranus only reported a few invaders, not
the army I'd expect. Maybe this is just a probing attack as well, to test
how we react."

	"We react by kicking the ass of anyone who sets foot on our
territory without an invitation, *that's* how!"
 
	Sailor Venus rolled her eyes. "The same as usual. No sense of
subtlety at all."

	"Subtlety? D'y'know how many people may be dead right now? I sure
don't, but considering the damage we've seen so far, I'm going to guess it's
more than just a couple!" Sailor Neptune deliberately brushed against Sailor
Venus, roughly. "This is *war*, not some bloody exercise!"

	"Calm down, Neptune," hissed Venus in anything but a calm voice.
"I'm just trying to think through things logically, and AAAAH!"

	"AAAAH? What kind of argument is that to make?" Neptune turned
irritatedly, then blinked as she noticed Sailor Venus fallen on her back
onto the floor. Her eyes traced up to see what had felled her: a massive
serpentine beast with four legs, four arms, and looking utterly dangerous.
She fumbled for the right words in her mind, found them, set herself for the
attack.

	"Venus Heart of Gold!" Sailor Venus snapped her fingers toward the
beast, a tiny golden stylized heart forming at her fingertip. It rapidly
expanded into a much larger heart which enveloped the beast completely. It
screamed, an inhuman howl which set Sailor Neptune's bones to shivering. She
averted her eyes, watching instead the molten gold drip from the alien's
corpse, splashing on Sailor Venus with no effect whatsoever. As the thing
dissolved away, Venus sat up and smiled smugly at Neptune. "Thanks for the
help."

	Neptune glared back. "You never gave me a *chance* to help, you
idiot!"

	Venus shrugged. "If I'd waited, I'd be dead." She made a show of
dusting off her hands, then looked about. "There'll doubtless be more of
them. Keep your guard up."

	"I know bloody well enough to keep my guard up," snapped Neptune.
She looked ahead and saw the civilians already fleeing. "Better catch up
with them," she said, breaking into a trot.

	Sailor Venus sighed and quickly broke past Sailor Neptune, her hair
trailing behind her. "You know, Neptune, you really should be more aware of
your surroundings. Why, what if that thing had come after you? You can't
always count on me to bail you out of--"

	"Neptune Tsunami Engulf!"

	Venus turned and blinked as a wave of water arched out from
Neptune's outspread arms, sweeping away another of the odd grey-green
creatures and slamming it against--and through--a wall. She blinked several
times, then peered through the newly created hole in the wall to find the
thing seemed to have no discernible life signs. Not anymore. She then turned
to look at a rather smug Sailor Neptune, who stood with arms crossed on her
chest, her toe tapping. "Not a word. Not. One. Word."

	The two ran on.


Somewhere in the Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
17:00 Lunar Standard Time

	For a single, heart stopping moment, Jen opened her eyes and thought
she was blind. She groped in the darkness, searing for anything, her panic
subsiding only as she began to pick out dim sources of light here and there.
She shook her head, but quickly wished she hadn't, feeling nausea ripple
through her body.

	"Feeling crappy, huh?" came the most welcome voice she'd ever heard.

	"Eileen?"

	"Yep." She felt a warm, tight hug. "Sit back and relax a bit, I
don't think we're going anywhere for a little while."

	"Where are we?" Jen looked around once more, trying to find
something--anything--to center on. Even Eileen was just a pale oval in the
dark.

	"I'm not sure. Some passageway in the Palace, is my guess. There's
about two dozen other people here with us."

	"Others?" She sat up, ignoring the urge to vomit and wishing she
hadn't had a double helping of the Crown caviar at the reception.
"Kami-sama, where're our parents? The Queen?"

	Eileen sighed. "I don't know. My communicator isn't getting
anything; we're the only senshi here. Sort of." She gestured to her right;
the expression was just visible in the dim glow of what she now recognized
as an emergency lighting strip which had fallen to the floor. "Uranus and
Mercury are down the hall, keeping an eye out for . . . whatever."

	"You're making me nervous, Eileen."

	"Yes, well that makes two of us." Eileen sighed and offered something
cold to her lips. "Here, drink this."

	"Water?"

	"The best. Liberally laced with the best nutrients Dr. Mercury can
prescribe."

	Jen smiled. "Raided the emergency packs, I see."

	"Hey, only the best for my wife. Though I expect you to make up for
it at the honeymoon."

	Jen giggled, then wished she didn't. "Ow. I'm hurt, I think."

	Eileen nodded, and Jen could feel her concern. "You were out cold
for awhile. I'm better, if that's the word for it; probably a couple broken
ribs, and God knows what else. I can walk, though, that's good."

	"I guess we have to hope for the best, then." She rubbed her
forehead. "I am so going to kill whoever's behind this crap."

	"Take a number, love." Eileen patted her shoulder lightly, then
glanced back down the hall.  Jen followed her gaze, and Eileen could sense
the unspoken question. "Dear, I hate to break it to you, but it looks like
we're in the middle of another invasion. There are these weird . . . things,
and whatever they are, they're running amuck. Ach--Sailor Uranus has been
talking to the others, and apparently they're all over Mare Serenitatis and
Crisium. They're only susceptible to magical weapons."

	"Sounds familiar." Jen sighed and fished a familiar rod from
nowhere. She opened her mouth, then blinked as Eileen snatched it from her
hand. "Hey!"

	"No way, Jen," said Eileen sternly. "You've had a head injury, and
there's no telling how badly you're *really* hurt. You stay here, the other
two can handle things."

	Jen blinked. "Are you serious? How the hell are they going to handle
this? They're just kids!"

	Eileen smiled grimly. "Those *kids* have already taken out a dozen
of those monsters. They've taken their lumps, but they're holding their own.
If they get into serious trouble, then maybe we'll help them out . . . but
for now, we both need our rest, all right?"

	"Well . . . ." Jen shrugged, tasting the sincerity in Eileen's
voice. "Maybe for a little bit, then."

	Further up the hall, Sailors Mercury and Uranus rested with their
hands on their knees, breathing hard as sweat dripped down their faces. "You
know," panted Uranus, "this was so much easier on the target range."

	"Seriously. A body could get himself killed doing this for real."

	"Or herself."

	"Or herself," agreed Mercury with a small smile. "At least the
others are holding up okay."

	"Still no word from the Queen, though. Or anywhere else, for that
matter." She brushed back her hair and leaned against the frame of a door
which had long since been broken. "How will we know when it's over?"

	Mercury shrugged. "Lights come on, Sailor Saturn shows up and tells
us it was just another drill?" He smiled slightly. "A guy can hope, at
least."

	"I don't think any of this would be in even the most realistic
drill. Did you see . . . never mind, you weren't here. But Saturn looked
terrified when she hustled Her Majesty out of the ballroom." Uranus shook
her head slowly. "It's the not knowing that kills you."

	"Huh?"

	"Something Saka--Jen-chan told me, once. But we're here now, and we
have to do the best we can. Speaking of which . . . ." Both senshi came
alert, hearing the now-familiar scuttling sound which announced the arrival
of another of the insect-like monstrosities. "Time to get back to work."


Entrance Gate 4120
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
18:09 Lunar Standard Time

	"Right. Understood." Sailor Jupiter's hair blew in the breeze, but
she casually held onto a roll bar with a single hand. "We'll meet you there,
then. If we aren't there within ten minutes, move on without us. We'll catch
up with you. Correct. Right, bye." Jupiter handed the small radio to the
ensign sitting in the passenger's seat and turned her full attention to the
road ahead.

	She, along with Sailor Mars, two naval officers, and three officers
in the Royal Marine Corps, were in a jeep which flew down a little-used
access road which connected Mare Crisium to Mare Serenitatis. According to
Sailor Mars, who'd had much more time to study Luna's history than Jupiter,
the tunnels dated back to the original projects to colonize the Moon. If so,
then Sailor Jupiter wasn't terribly surprised that it had survived the
strikes. Surrounded as it was by kilometers of lunar rock on all sides, it
would take something truly catastrophic to cause severe damage.

	This didn't keep her and the car's other occupants from keeping
constant, wary eyes on the smooth walls of the tubular tunnel. It only took
one crack.

	The Marine lieutenant had questioned Jupiter's decision to go to
Mare Serenitatis. Surely Mare Crisium was in equally bad shape, if not
worse, and they needed every hand they could find for rescue and defense.
Sailor Jupiter had politely, but very firmly, refused. She was a planet
senshi, and at a time like this, her place was at the side of the Queen. So
she had bluntly told the lieutenant to accompany her, or else face charges
of insubordination and disobeying direct orders once things were over.

	He proved to be a very good driver.

	Jupiter frowned, urging the Jeep faster. Her fellow senshi were
fighting hard--and from what little she could glean from the intermittently
functioning radio, they were being aided by other senshi as well--but she
wasn't fighting alongside them, and until she was, she couldn't help but
think she was letting them down. "Can't this thing go any faster?"

	"Certainly can, ma'am. But we *do* need to slow down, or else we'll
slam into the gate."

	"Oh. Carry on, then," she said, thankful her skin kept her blush
from being visible. She smiled slightly as Sailor Mars stood up next to her,
brown hair flowing like a short mane behind her. "What do you think?"

	"I think we're okay. Sixty-eight percent containment in Mare
Crisium, with no penetration into the civilian sectors. And Serenitatis
sounds even better; no real outbreaks of attacks outside the Palace and
surrounding area." She smiled brightly, flashing her teeth. "Maybe the worst
is over?"

	Jupiter sighed as the car continued to slow. "We can hope. But we
don't really know anything yet. This could still just be a prelude."

	"Maybe." They remained silent as the jeep eventually came to a stop
before the heavy double doors of the gate. There were supposed to be close
to ten thousand of them, ringing Mare Serenitatis all around. Most were
simply stairways which led to surface airlocks, but a few--like this
one--connected Serenitatis to Crisium, as others did to Tranquillitatis.
Jupiter flexed her fingers. At least Mare Tranquillitatis remained
untouched. Hopefully it would remain so; she'd ordered it to be sealed
against the two affected maria, to keep any of the invaders from spreading
their attack.

	Mars and Jupiter sprung from the jeep, followed closely by two
Marines with plasma rifles close at hand. Mars had been more amused
than anything at their insistence to bodyguard the senshi, but Jupiter had
simply nodded politely. It took a certain bravery to be willing to guard a
senshi, especially with a weapon which had shown no signs of being useful
against their enemy. It bordered on stupidity, but Sailor Jupiter knew
enough about the Marines and their traditions not to call them stupid.

	"I'll get the lock!" shouted Sailor Mars, quickly running to the
keypad. As the Moon was still at the first stage alert called by Jupiter,
the combination to get in was far more complex than usual, but Mars's small
fingers flew over the flat panel, unerringly punching in the sixteen digit
code to open the locks.

	They didn't open.

	"Um," said Mars slowly. She tried the combination again, more slowly
this time. The doors stayed obstinately shut, though, and she looked at
Sailor Jupiter beseechingly. "Think the lock electronics might have been
fried?"

	Jupiter shook her head. "Not likely. The systems should be insulted
against anything less than a short-range EMP, and we'd have noticed one of
those." She checked with her visor regardless, scanning the panel and
surrounding area. Nothing associated with an electromagnetic pulse, which
didn't leave many options. "Well, there are always the manual overrides."

	"There are?"

	Sailor Jupiter shrugged. "There must be."

	"There are, ma'am," offered the Marine colonel. He pointed to either
side of the circular double doors. "Unfortunately, it rather takes two men
on each handle to turn in unison, and--"

	"Don't worry," said Mars with a grin. "We can handle it!" She dashed
to where the colonel had pointed, a small metal panel set into the rough
lunar rock. She pulled it open, seeing a dull grey handle with an arrow
indicating the direction to turn. She glanced behind her, watching as
Jupiter took hold of its partner on the opposite side of the tunnel. "Okay,
on three! One, two, three!"

	The senshi turned the handles easily, and the Marine colonel bit
back a curse. He'd had to open a gate in just this way during a training
exercise some years ago, and the memory of trying to get three men to all
grip onto the same handle was still fresh in his mind. They were
intentionally made tough to turn, to prevent accidental activation--or
malicious activation, in the event of an invasion. The senshi, though, had
no trouble at all providing the necessary torque, and he couldn't help but
be irritated as two teenage girls did the work of what the book said was
four men--and what he'd found was really the work of six, at the least.

	As they turned the handles, a warning bell rang. Orange caution
lights flashed as the doors swung open, and the Marines quickly stepped
behind the yellow-and-black painted safety lines.

	"There," said Sailor Mars brightly, turning back to look at the
others. "Wasn't so hard at all, was it?"

	Sailor Jupiter took a look at the faces of the Marine and Navy
people, and decided not to press the issue. "Come on, let's go. Time's
wasting." They all climbed back into the jeep and raced into Mare
Serenitatis, barely noticing as the heavy doors closed back behind them.

	As they progressed, they found their way getting darker and more
difficult. The tunnel led through a number of access passageways which grew
progressively narrow, and eventually they were forced to leave the vehicle
in a garage. Now they proceeded on foot, beginning to pass civilians. They
looked uninjured for the most part, simply shocked. Sailor Jupiter couldn't
blame them. When you lived in an artificial environment like the Moon, you
must always worry about how many things could go wrong, and now they had.
She and Mars did their best to smile confidently as they ran toward the
Palace, looking cool and unworried.

	They ran fast, though. Faster, and faster still, until their Marine
guards were left huffing far in their wake, until the passing people and
buildings were just blurs. By the time they reached the Palace, they had to
skid to a stop, and bowed quickly to the two harried--and bloodied--senshi
who stood guard at the Main Gate.

	"Sailors Mars and Jupiter asking for admittance," said Jupiter
briefly, not even winded. "Sailor Adhara? What's happened?"

	The senshi shrugged, then shook her head clear of its cobwebs. Mars
reflected that she looked like she'd been dragged backward through a mile of
the rose bushes which surrounded the Palace grounds, and suppressed a
shiver. "Massive attack by the buggers about ten minutes ago." She gestured
around at the piles of gore and ash. "We managed to fight them off, but it
was tough." She jerked a thumb toward the Palace. "We've not gotten any
word from inside, except from Sailor Mercury. She . . . *he* said to stay
put and not let any more of the things inside, and that's what we've done."

	Jupiter nodded. "Where did they come from? And where's the Queen?"

	Sailor Adhara spread her arms helplessly. "I just don't know. Sailor
Vega saw them coming around the bend there," she said, pointing the rubble
of what Jupiter now recognized as a newsstand. "Nobody's been able to tell
us where they came before that, and we haven't been able to leave to
investigate.

	"I see." Sailor Jupiter frowned, her mind racing. As she did, her
eyes drifted up to the ceiling of Mare Serenitatis, little more than a thin
shell which covered most of the city but left the Palace looking over the
exterior. Something clicked.

	Sailor Mars blinked as Sailor Jupiter pointed a finger at her. "Mars
is with me. One of you stay here, the other will go out into the city. Round
up all the senshi you can find, but if you meet another one of these
creatures, don't bother fighting them. Just get back here as fast as you
can. The Palace will be our center of defense; once it's secure, we'll start
sweeping out from there. Got it?"

	The three other senshi nodded in understanding. "Right!"

	"Okay, then, let's get to work!" She darted through the gate,
followed by Mars, and soon plunged into darkness.

	"Are you sure this was such a good idea?" asked Sailor Mars quietly.
They proceeded deeper into the palace, both appalled at the scale of the
destruction. While the walls themselves had remained intact, there were broken
tables and paintings everywhere.

	"Never surer," answered Sailor Jupiter. "Her Majesty's probably
here, so that's where we should be. She hasn't checked in at Mare Crisium,
anyway." She opened a link to Sailor Mercury as they began climbing stairs.

	"Yes?" answered Mercury almost immediately.

	"We're in the palace, ascending up to the royal suites. How are
things down there?"

	"We're not meeting as many of those damned aliens, if that helps,"
came the reply. "They're coming in singletons now, not droves, and they've
wised up enough to avoid senshi."

	Sailor Jupiter smiled, not breaking her stride as she leaped over
the fallen body of a guard in the livery of the Queen's Own. "Best news I've
heard since this started. Okay. Just hold on there, I'll try to get some
relief to you as quick as I can. Jupiter out." She closed the connection,
then skidded to a stop.

	Before the two senshi was a heavy metal door, triply barred and
guarded by a single senshi. "Sailor Alnair."

	"Sailor Jupiter," answered the lavender-haired senshi, bowing
slightly. Around her were piled the dissolving corpses of four-legged
invaders, and the stink of their decay filled the hallway.

	Sailor Mars gagged. Jupiter simply shook her head softly. "Were
these all yours?"

	"Most of them. I had a couple Army guards with me, but they didn't
make it through the last assault." She gestured to two blanket-covered
bodies next to the wall, well away from the alien corpses, rifles resting
atop them. "Damn shame. Best non-senshi fighters I've ever seen."

	Sailor Jupiter nodded, knowing how inadequate words would be. She
gestured to the door. "Any word?"

	Alnair shook her head, ruby-red eyes flashing. "None. I'm pretty
sure it's empty; it's for sure nobody's answered the phone, and I haven't
heard any noise. With these baddies running around, I wasn't about to let my
guard down to go in and check, either."

	"Understandable," said Sailor Jupiter, and Sailor Alnair nodded in
grudging approval. She'd been more than a little worried for the past hour
about the prospect of the rookie planet senshi being in charge of the
defense, but she liked what she'd seen from this new one, at least.

	Sailor Mars tore her eyes away from the nearest pile of rotting
corpses, sighing as her visor seemed unable to come up with anything more
useful on their composition or origins. "I think we should go in."

	Sailor Alnair nodded. "Probably a good idea." She pondered, then
shrugged with a small, ironic grin. "I doubt either of you have
authorization codes yet, but I can't see that it matters at this point
either." She turned and did something with the ornate gold lock that neither
Jupiter nor Mars could see, then moved aside as the metal doors faded into
nothing. The planet senshi blinked, seeing the hallway now clear before
them, though dim and lit only by emergency lights. "Go on through, then.
I'll seal off the passage again once you're in."

	The planet senshi blinked again, in unison. "Well, go on!" prodded
Alnair. "No guarantee these buggers won't be back, you know!" She smiled as
the two nodded blankly and ran on, then sighed as the doors reappeared.

	Back to guard duty.


Sitting Room
Moon Palace
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
18:09 Lunar Standard Time

	Sailor Venus looked about carefully. Her visor showed nothing, but
one couldn't be too careful. Not today. "Are you sure we should be doing
this?"

	"I don't see any reason not to. We have access codes for a reason,
you know."

	"I'm pretty sure it's not so we can herd a bunch of nosy reporters
into our living rooms."

	Sailor Neptune shrugged. "Shine the light a little lower, would you?
I can barely see the key . . . ah, thanks." Her index fingers quickly pushed
buttons. "As for the reporters, I can't think of a safer place for them. We
certainly can't just leave them to fend for themselves."

	Sailor Venus snorted. "Want to bet?"

	Neptune raised an eyebrow, then brightened as the hardened hatch
slid open at last. "Some media darling you are." She walked back along the
narrow hallway. It was actually a service passageway, and the hard concrete
floor and bare lighting fixtures were testament to that, but it was also the
quickest way there without making a good number of detours and strolls
through areas they knew to be compromised.

	Now, she came across her clutch of journalists. There were easily
two dozen, all uniformly dirty, grimy, and thoroughly frightened. 'Just like
me,' thought Sailor Neptune. The only difference was that Neptune wasn't
allowed to show it. "Okay, guys. Right this way, and we promise you'll be
safe."

	"Where did Sailor Cassie go?"

	Neptune politely ignored the diminutive; senshi generally frowned
on nicknames. Then again, any journalist worth her salt knew this,
especially here on the Moon, and considering the kinds of stress they were
all under . . . . "She went back to check for stragglers." And to find any
other senshi, but you don't need to know that. "She'll be along shortly;
right now you should just move along this way. Please," she added as an
afterthought.

	Thankfully for her nerves, they complied, stumbling along through
the door, where Sailor Venus was smiling brightly and gesturing for the
reporters to be seated in the planet senshi lounge. Venus couldn't blame
them for their wide eyes; no reporter had ever been granted access to this
room, and the opulent furnishings were enough to impress everyone. She knew
she had been, the first time she was able to be here and see the plush
couches, antique furniture, and top of the line electronics.

	Sailor Neptune rolled her eyes at them as she brought up the rear,
closing the door behind her and making doubly sure it was securely locked.
The lounge reminded her of nothing so much as a rich girls' clubhouse. well,
she amended as she walked in and walked to the bank of secure computer
terminals at a far wall, girls' and one boy. So much the better; the last
thing she needed was yet another person wanting to discuss the latest cures
for menstrual cramps. For the sake of the kami, you'd think that after
thousands of years *someone* would have--

	"Neptune?" She turned to look into the orange visor of Sailor Venus.
"Look . . . I know we don't like each other. And I don't expect that to
change today. But . . . we're going to have to work together on this, okay?"

	Neptune cocked an eyebrow, then turned back to her computer and
began pulling up what information she could. "Who said we aren't working
together?"

	"We've had four arguments since the attack began."

	"Then we're doing better than the average. Dammit, we're down to two
hardlinks to the Mare Crisium computers, and those are getting flooded. Not
even my priority override is getting through."

	"Here, let me try." Venus gently shouldered the taller girl aside,
her fingers flying over the keyboard. "Try raising any of the others while
we're at it." She glanced at another sealed door, this one leading off to
the royal suites. "You know, maybe we're going about this all wrong."

	"Oh?"

	"Yes," said Venus with a nod. "We're assuming Saturn would have
taken the Queen to the royal suites here."

	Neptune shrugged. "It's a logical assumption. This is the most
secure place in the Palace. Saturn couldn't assume that she'd have a clear
path back to Mare Crisium."

	"Unless she teleported, you mean."

	"I doubt she'd have tried to. For all she knew, she'd be 'porting
into vacuum."

	Sailor Venus gave a small nod. "You're right, I suppose."

	"You only *suppose*?"

	"Don't start that again," snapped Venus. "Yes, I suppose. There's no
proof to the contrary."

	"Whatever." Sailor Neptune crossed her arms on her chest, lapsing
into conversation with Sailor Uranus. Sailor Venus sighed and continued her
work. Power signatures in the Queen's Mare Crisium apartments seemed
steady, which indicated no-one had turned on any lights. There was
something. Unfortunately, there were no extra lights on in the Palace
residence either. Increasingly desperate, she looked for terminal logins.

	"Uranus says things are okay there. They're gathering up the
survivors and bringing them to the infirmary."

	"It's still there?"

	"Apparently. They were probably on ready duty because of the Queen,
anyway. Assuming the beasties passed them up, they should be in good shape."
She drummed her fingers on the console, staring at the list of shuttle
hangars, which were uniformly locked down.

	The thought occurred to them both, and they stared at each other in
excitement. Then they leaped for the door, leaving two dozen battered and
confused journalists in their wake.


Palace Infirmary
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
18:20 Lunar Standard time

	"Are we there yet?" Jen's voice was husky with pain and exhaustion,
but she could squint enough to see the red cross on a white field, if not
the writing which was next to it on the arrow sign.

	"Yep," encouraged Eileen. She frowned, then spat out a mouthful of
blood. Very bad. Her bleeding was getting worse. "Just a little bit further,
okay? You can hold on."

	Sailor Mercury dropped back from his position at the point of the
injured brigade. "You're sure you two don't need any help?"

	Eileen smiled weakly. "I think this is the sickness part of 'in
sickness and in health.' Go on, we'll be fine."

	The senshi frowned, trying to make himself believe. "I can still
send for a stretcher."

	"No," said Eileen, shaking her head quickly. She quickly wished she
hadn't, though, and fought both nausea and the effort of keeping her wife
propped on her shoulder. "We made it this far, a little more won't hurt."

	Mercury sighed. They had made it rather far, but he didn't like the
color in either of their faces, and his scans told him Eileen's condition
had only worsened. All through the long trip up the back passages and
stairways of the Palace, he'd wanted nothing less than to lift Eileen on his
back, have Uranus pick up Jen, and hurry them to the hospital ward as fast
as their magically enhanced legs would carry them. Eileen would hear nothing
of it, though, and Jen wasn't coherent enough to protest. None of the other
guests were getting special treatment, so neither would they.

	Sailor Mercury thought this was one of the dumbest ideas he'd ever
heard. Being a senshi was all about special treatment, however egalitarian
they wanted to pretend to be, but there was little point arguing. Besides,
Eileen had pointed out, she was already compromising by not going back to
look for her parents. He'd seen through her deliberately flippant behavior
to know how much both of them were worried about their parents, but he
firmly put that aside. He and Uranus would go back to look the first chance
they got. Personally.

	Now, though, this particular task was almost complete. The lights in
the Palace's small infirmary were on, and there was quite the bustle of
activity inside. Little wonder; Serenitatis General Hospital was blocks
away, and few would want to roam far today. Not when there were aliens
running rampant in the streets.

	Sailor Uranus trotted up to him as he walked ahead of the pack. "All
clear to the rear." She smiled, patting Mercury's shoulder, as the two
walked into the infirmary. "Not bad for our first mission, don't you think?"

	"Assuming you call this a mission. I'd say it was a disaster." He
winced as the familiar disinfectant smell of a hospital hit his sensitive
nose. Injured people were everywhere: on cots, couches, beds, chairs, some
even on the floor. "Damn, hadn't expected this many people." He barely
noticed the bubble of space around the two, no-one being willing to crowd a
planet senshi--even if they'd only been on the job a couple days.

	"Of course it was a disaster," agreed Uranus, as her eyes scanned
for a free bed where her former teacher and her wife could be situated. "But
we got through it just fine. Even managed to kill a couple baddies." She
blinked, catching sight of a familiar glint. She craned around an orderly,
then gasped and bowled the man over as she rushed for a corner of the
crowded room.

	"Sailor Uranus?" Mercury frowned and gave pursuit, cursing as he ran
into nurses and doctors, then pulling up short as he saw who his friend was
running toward. "Kami-sama, Sailor Saturn!"

	The senshi of silence stood cool and composed before a closed clinic
door, her Glaive standing uptight and in her hand. She cocked her head and
blinked, looking curiously at the two. "How did you get here?"

	"We've been looking all over for you!" snapped Sailor Uranus
accusingly, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "Why didn't you answer
your communicator?"

	Saturn blinked, then shook her head as she reached into nowhere with
a frown. "Damn. Must've lost it in that collapse. And . . . honestly, it
didn't occur to me. I'm sorry."

	"Sure you are," said Uranus, but much more calmly. She didn't
believe for a moment Saturn had simply forgotten, or that she hadn't
realized it until now, or that she'd made no attempt whatsoever to contact
the other senshi. "Where's the Queen?"

	"In there," said Saturn simply, pointing with a thumb at the door
behind her. "Serious condition, and still not stable. I'm afraid she took a
rather nasty lump or two in the fall."

	"Will she . . . um, that is . . . ." Sailor Mercury would have
kicked himself for his awkwardness, but it was an awkward moment. How could
he ask the unaskable question: would his Queen live?

	Saturn smiled slightly, nodding. "She's expected to make a full
recovery, though it won't be easy. I'm sorry for not showing up sooner, but
I didn't want too many people to know that I'm here, or who's behind the
door. Most of the other patients think I'm guarding a European diplomat."

	Sailor Uranus blinked, then nodded in sudden understanding. "I see.
I take it you don't want a full royal guard, then."

	"Not yet." Saturn ran a hand through her hair--the first harried
gesture either of the new senshi had ever seen her make. "A subtle perimeter
around the clinic. You might as well call the other senshi and get them
here, but the less fuss you make out of it, the better. Once the Queen is
ready to move, we'll take things from there. Got it?"

	"Yes, ma'am!" they chirped in unison.

	Saturn smiled warmly, her shoulders relaxing minutely. "Good. I've
heard a little bit about your exploits from the doctors here, and of the
others too. Apparently you six have made quite a showing for yourself." Both
senshi blushed, and she shook her head slightly. "Go on, get out of here.
I'll be here to make sure Her Majesty gets her rest."

	The senshi nodded, then did an about face with perfect military
precision, walking back through the crowded infirmary with considerably less
haste. Uranus had just enough time to see Eileen sitting next to Jen laying
on a bed before they exited into the broad Palace hallway. "That wasn't so
bad," commented Sailor Mercury.

	"Maybe. Though she didn't say exactly what was wrong with Her
Majesty."

	Sailor Mercury shrugged. "Would it make a difference?" He pondered a
moment, then leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead. "Has it really
only been two hours? I'm going to call the others."

	Sailor Uranus nodded, then blinked and shook her head. "You can save
yourself the trouble with two of them, at least. Here come Venus and
Neptune."

	Mercury turned, then waved to the arriving senshi. They broke into a
run at the sight, grinning wildly on arrival. "Well, well, well," said
Sailor Neptune. "Fancy meeting you guys in a place like this."

	"Her Majesty's in there. She's okay," Uranus added quickly as Sailor
Venus walked toward the door. "Banged up, but okay. Sailor Saturn sent us
out here to put up a perimeter."

	"Right," said Venus. Briefly, the four senshi exchanged information
on the events of the last two hours, and then they drew a bit away as the
blonde relayed a summary to Mars and Jupiter. Once she'd finished, she
stepped back to them. "Looks like things are calming down a bit."

	"Maybe," Neptune said cautiously. "Mighty suspicious for all those
whatever-they-were's to come out of nowhere, and I can't believe that was
all of them."

	Mercury raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer they start attacking us
again?"

	Neptune shrugged casually. "I wouldn't mind too much if they did. I
mean, they weren't exactly tough kills, were they? We could handle 'em
easily."

	"I'd prefer to avoid it," said Sailor Venus with a nearly audible
sniff. She looked around, then sighed. "We should spread out. I'll take the
far cross corridor, Mercury there on that corner, and *you*, Neptune, can go
around the bend. Jupiter and Mars can take the door."

	The azure girl glared at Sailor Venus. "And since when did you start
giving orders?"

	"Since they were the right ones," came the cool voice of Sailor
Jupiter. Neptune's heart gave a small leap; she hadn't heard the taller girl
approach. Jupiter ignored this, nodding briefly at Venus. "Good thinking,
and a good plan. We'll do it." The undisputed leader of the planet senshi
looked about and frowned. "Well? Move!"

	Sailor Mars smiled to herself as she settled in her position on the
left side of the door, imbued with the confidence of having the rather
impressive Sailor Jupiter standing at her right. It had been a very
adventurous day, to be sure, but the worst seemed past. She couldn't deny
the thrill which had filled it, either. After all, it was all well and good
to have been selected senshi, and even better to become senshi. There was
something different in actually using their powers, though.

	Her fingers flexed as she thought back to the first moment she'd
used her attack in anger. The flames had seemed an extension of her body,
something yearning to be used and released. There was slight remorse for the
life she'd taken, but only slight. After all, if the creatures had wanted to
live long lives, they should have stayed away from Luna. They'd no business
taking a fight to the greatest group of warriors in history--a group Sailor
Mars was now very proud to count herself among. 

	She yawned. Proud, yes, but tired too. Combat took something out of
her which wasn't really matched by even the most grueling simulators. All
she wanted at the moment was to curl up on the couch back in her room and
watch holovids. Preferably a nice one about pet grooming. With a sigh, her
eyes flicked about with a practiced gaze while her mind went back to home on
Mars, back to her family and her pet dog Menchi.

	"Hey, Jupiter?"

	"Yes?"

	"Did you have any pets back on Earth?"

	Sailor Jupiter cocked her head curiously. "Not really. My mother had
a cat, but he died when I was a child." She shrugged. "Never really thought
about a replacement; my life was busy enough without taking care of a pet as
well."

	"Oh."

	Jupiter raised an eyebrow and turned to glance at her teammate. "How
about you?"

	"Yep! A dog named Menchi. She's really nice, too." Mars glanced up
at Jupiter. "Think I'd be allowed to bring her here?"

	"I don't see why not," Jupiter mused. "I mean, there are cats
here--albeit sentient cats--so dogs should be okay too."

	Mars smiled. "Cool. I'll have to talk to Saturn once this all blows
ever. The damage shouldn't take more than a few days to repair, from what
I've seen." She opened her mouth, then suddenly narrowed her eyes. "Then
again . . . on second thought, maybe it isn't over yet."

	"Hm?" Jupiter turned to follow Mars's gaze, then froze. "All senshi,
intruder alert! Say again, all senshi to the Palace infirmary!" She braced
herself against the wall, her feet digging into the floor. "Jupiter Arboreal
Crush!"

	The shout drew the attention of several people inside the clinic,
pressing up against the windows to look outside. They soon recoiled, seeing
what awaited them--the enemy.

	Sailor Jupiter flung her attack at the nearest one, but she worried
more about the one behind it. Her visor showed no infrared tracks down the
hall, so they *had* to have come from through the wall, and that was just
impossible. Possible or not, they were there, and this time they did more
than just swing with razor-sharp claws.

	Flashing brackets frantically highlighted an approaching globule of
energy, a kind which was totally unidentifiable. All she could do was wince
as it impacted against the spontaneously appearing field of her protection
shield. She bit back a grunt as a full barrage of the pellets began striking
her, making her shield glow a bright green. She knew for an absolute
certainty her shield could only handle so much before it--and she--gave out,
and once it did, she was in very serious trouble.

	With a shout, she lunged forward, past the first beast, which was
already succumbing. Her object was the second one, and she could almost
sense its surprise as she forsook a ranged attack to plant her boot into
what amounted to its face.

	The beast reeled, smashing through the wall and into what looked
like an office. Jupiter took little interest, though, pressing her attack
with a roundhouse kick, then hammering its head with the heel of her hand.
Bones which ordinarily would have been shattered instead shattered the
alien's skull, collapsing the beast to the ground.

	Sailor Jupiter wasted no time to celebrate. She pivoted, her visor
already warning her of another attacker, and dove forward to avoid the sweep
of its blades. She caught a flash of flame from the corner of her eye,
telling her Mars had her own problems to deal with, and then she was on her
back, both feet kicking up and into the thing's body. Her nose was filled
with its stench as it flew away . . . up, into, and through the windows of
the clinic.

	Sailor Mars had just dispatched her target as she saw the grey-green
alien smash into the clinic, sending both glass and people scattering. "We
need backup at the infirmary!" she screamed, already in motion toward the
door.

	"On my way," answered Uranus instantly. "Everyone else, stay put!"

	"No problem of that!" gasped Neptune. A sickening crunching sound
came over their communicators. "I'm stuck here with these bozos!"

	Mars jumped into the fray, her mind racing. Civilians and military
personnel alike were scattering to the four walls of the room, away from the
stunned, yet still mobile, alien at its center. Mars watched it warily,
searching for an opening, and very heedful of the linens and other
combustibles. Her fiery attack was out of the question, at least for now.
From the corner of her visor she could see the bright magical blip of Sailor
Saturn, poised and ready to grab the Queen and run if necessary, but totally
unwilling to leave her post.

	The brunette nodded to herself, flexing her fingers. So much the
better.

	"Jupiter Arboreal Crush!" Sailor Mars screamed and turned to ward
off Jupiter, but it was too late. The branches of Jupiter's attack were
already reaching out to grab the beast, and Mars averted her eyes, not
wanting to see what would happen when those magical branches cut through
some unsuspecting bystander.

	"Uranus Sirocco Blast!"

	A dozen or so people were between Sailor Jupiter and the alien.
Uranus's attack swept them out of the way, but it was also vastly
understrength. It was a drill Saturn had worked and worked into them, but so
far only Sailor Uranus had had any success in even coming close to exerting
such fine control. Saturn had also maintained, though, that senshi performed
at their best when the situations were at their worst, and none of them had
faced such a situation before. Sailor Mars pumped her fist as the civilians
were knocked away--bruised, but alive--and the alien was yanked back from
the clinic and into the hallway.

	"Mars Inferno Immolate!" With a final sweep of her arm, Mars
finished off the enemy.

	Elsewhere, things were not going well for Sailor Mercury. Five of
the creatures had swelled up from a darkened passageway, and now he fought
with enemies on three sides, his back against the unforgiving wall. They
shot and swiped and stabbed at him, leaving no time to prepare his attack,
and he cursed fluently as he tried to find an opening. "Neptune! Some help?
PLEASE!"

	"I'm trying, Merc, I've got too many fuckers on me already! Venus,
get your ass over here!"

	"I'm swamped!" Sailor Venus shouted back. "It's total-OW! Dammit!"
Neptune and Mercury blinked at the mild curse from their teammate, who was
usually careful about her language.

	Sailor Mercury furrowed his brow, pulling up a floor plan on his
visor even as he continued dodging and parrying. Mars, Jupiter, and Uranus
were on the other side of the massive square that was the infirmary, and he
doubted there would be any help from that quarter. The infirmary itself was
a problem, he thought. Easily the biggest suite of rooms on that floor, it
was a good thirty meters to a side. Not the easiest place to defend.

	He blinked.

	"Guys, get to grid coordinates 19-M-70, I don't care how!" He
punctuated his command with a shout as he leaped into a perceived gap. It
wasn't quite as wide as he'd hoped, and an alien claw scraped his side.
Mercury bit back a wince as he rolled to his feet, spinning. "Mercury
Ripples Expand!" It was an unaimed attack, which meant it inflicted little
damage. The senshi didn't care, though; his only goal was to distract them
long enough to put some distance between himself and then, and in this it
performed admirably.

	Sailor Mercury put a hand to his side and gulped as it came away
red. That was the other problem with the shields Serenity had imbued them all
with: it could only work against a target they actually saw coming.
Otherwise, it wouldn't activate at all, which made the senshi just as
vulnerable to a shot in the back as anyone. When he'd first discovered it,
he figured partial protection was better than none at all, but now he was
rather fervently wishing he'd had the full shielding.

	Gasping, he scrambled forward, seeing the flashes of magical combat
ahead. Sailor Neptune spun toward him, and for a single terrifying moment he
thought she would mistake him as another target. She pulled her punch at the
last moment, pirouetting and nailing another fiend with barely a backward
glance. Mercury blinked, impressed.

	"It's like being on the target range," muttered Sailor Neptune.
"Just more deadly." The two went back to back, circling slowly as the
creatures closed in from each side. "And we probably won't have Sailor
Saturn ripping us new ones after we're done."

	Sailor Mercury rolled his eyes. "Wonderful. So, do you have a plan
handy?"

	Sailor Neptune blinked. "Plan? It was *your* idea for us to meet
here."

	The redhead's reply was cut off by the arrival of Sailor Venus. She
was breathing hard, and a chunk of her hair seemed to have been cut off with
some haste and perhaps not in a voluntary fashion. "I hope you have a good
idea for this," she snapped, immediately locking herself into their back to
back strategy. "I nearly got myself killed squirming out of that jam, and if
they decide to ignore us and work around to get the others . . . ."

	Mercury nodded quickly. "Concentrated firepower. If we all work from
the same spot, we can cover each other."

	"Great for a defensive strategy, but how about when we move?"
Neptune gritted her teeth, anticipating the next wave of the attack.

	"Um . . . well, we'll handle that when-ACK!" Apparently the aliens
had grown tired of waiting for them to discuss strategy, and in that moment
it ceased to become an academic exercise.

	"Mercury Ripples Expand!"

	"Neptune Tsunami Engulf!"

	"Venus Heart of Gold!"

	Two water- and one metal-based attack flew out from outstretched
arms, smashing into snarling, rearing creatures, sending them back. They
rushed again, though, and this time the planet senshi were even harder
pressed to hold them back. As Mercury had predicted, the three of them were
far more effective than they had been operating solo, but distressingly,
their attackers seemed to have figured this out too. They swarmed the
teenagers, and Mercury could feel his strength fading as the battle wore in.
To either side, he could see the intensity of Neptune's and Venus's attacks
slowly lightening. Their aim was deteriorating, and suddenly he knew they
needed something, *anything*, to turn the tide their way. But what?

	And then it hit him.

	Sailor Venus grunted, taking a deep breath before unleashing her
attack again, then blinked as she saw Sailor Mercury taking aim at the
ceiling. The ceiling? What the hell did he think he was doing? She turned to
snarl at him, then blinked as he fired.

	The ceiling was made from Lunar concrete, which had a number of
magical properties making it significantly stronger than the normal
varieties. This ordinarily made it much sterner stuff than was really
necessary for most purposes, but this part of the Palace had taken a lot of
abuse. Mercury's water attack blasted at the ceiling, wiping away tiles and
pipes, showering them with water at the same time it put a crack in the
material. It wasn't enough to be seen by the naked eye, but the hairline
fracture was visible to each of the senshi.

	"Got it!" said Sailor Neptune, a fraction of a second before Sailor
Venus could get the words out. "Neptune Tsunami Engulf!" Above the roar of
the wave which slammed into the wounded ceiling, a sharp crack was clearly
audible. Then, Venus struck.

	"Venus Heart of Gold!" The blonde put all her strength into it,
knowing it had to work . . . and so, it did. The senshi turned, covering
their heads as the heavy concrete rubble came crashing down on them . . .
and the aliens.

	Silence.

	After a minute, a dusty, dirty white glove poked out from the
debris. It was followed by another, and then the rather filthy form of
Sailor Mercury pulled itself from the pile and fell, gasping, to the side.
He coughed, finally working up enough moisture in his mouth to spit the
grime and soot which had somehow managed to lodge itself there.

	"Venus? Neptune?" He crawled over on hands and knees, trying to
ignore it when the latter landed in what was unmistakably gore. His visor
pointed out a number of infrared signatures, but there was no way of knowing
if they were alive, or simply corpses which hadn't yet finished cooling off.
"Neptune! Venus!"

	"Mercury?" came a weak, dry voice. Another glove scrabbled out from
the debris, and Sailor Mercury took it, pulling with all his strength. "Ow!
Quit pulling so hard!"

	Mercury rolled his eyes despite himself. "Okay, Neptune . . . ."
More gently this time, he continued pulling her free. The senshi of the
oceans dusted herself off, or at least tried to. Quickly deciding it to be a
lost cause, she gave up and looked back at the massive pile, then back up
above her. There was a large, jagged hole in the ceiling, and she could see
the ceiling of the next level as well. "Damn. Hope they don't take this out
of our paychecks".

	"Um."

	"Oh, don't give me that look. C'mon, we need to find Sailor Venus."
Sailor Neptune began tossing aside chunks of concrete the size of her head,
and Mercury had to step out of the way quickly or else get beaned by them.

	"So. Some rush, huh?" asked Neptune with an impish grin.

	"Huh?" asked Sailor Mercury, glancing at his teammate curiously.

	"Fighting! You know, good versus evil, struggle for right.
Overcoming overwhelming odds. Stuff like that." She sucked in a deep breath
as she uncovered the crushed elongated skull of an alien. "I did not need to
see that."

	Mercury shrugged, working alongside her. "I'm more tired than
anything. I really wish I hadn't had to do it."

	"'Course not," agreed Neptune, pausing to cough. "The point is we
were just defending . . . hey, Venus!"

	"Huh?" Something stirred in the darkness of the pile, pushing itself
up and out, dust falling from its back. Her blonde hair was more than a
little grimy, but still recognizable. "Oh, you two."

	"Yeah, us two. We only just saved your bacon." Neptune scowled as
she and Mercury pulled Venus out of the pile, and the three stumbled on the
dusty floor.

	Venus tried to brush the dust from her hair, but soon failed. There
was simply too much of the grey stuff. To her eyes, both of her fellow
senshi looked like grey ghosts from the coating of concrete dust, and she
had to bite back a giggle at their appearances. Then it occurred to her she
probably looked the same way, and she quickly sobered. "I'd have gotten out
by myself." She looked around carefully, but they seemed to be the only
things left alive in the hallway. "All clear?"

	"Looks like it," said Sailor Mercury. A sigh. "We're lucky to have
survived."

	The senshi nodded in agreement. "Agreed." They looked about again,
their eyes taking in the carnage they had wrought. In unison, they doubled
over and vomited.


Room 4235
Mare Serenitatis General Hospital
Mare Serenitatis, Luna
2 September 3043
10:55 Lunar Standard Time

	"I hate hospital ceilings. They all look the same, you know: Earth,
Hinansho, Luna, all of them. There must be a Ministry of Hospital
Architecture that makes sure they all have identical ceilings."

	"Are you sure they didn't hit you with too much painkiller?"

	Eileen smiled and shook her head, looking to her side at the IV
stand and saline drip. "Nah. Not enough, if you ask me; my side's still
bugging me."

	Jen nodded. She could do that, at least, without pain, which was
progress from when she'd drifted off to sleep the previous night. "You
should ask for more medicine."

	"Bah." Eileen waved a dismissive hand, "I'm fine." She sighed and
toyed with the railing of her bed, running a finger along its soft plastic.
"Hell of a way to spend a honeymoon, though."

	"Oh, I don't know." Jen smiled slightly, carefully rolling over on
her side. The nurses had nearly had a fit when she'd tried earlier, but she
didn't see any of them around now. "It's not exactly as if we could try
anything we hadn't before."

	"I suppose not." Eileen shrugged and glanced up at the flat
vidscreen mounted on the far wall of their hospital room. The curtains were
pulled open, allowing the bright artificial "sunlight" from outside to
stream in and glare against the screen. As such, she could barely see the
news announcer. It hardly mattered; she'd muted the sound long ago. She
hated the reporter. "I guess we're just lucky to be alive."

	"Again."

	"Again. And we didn't even have to save the day this time."

	Jen giggled, picking up the cup of orange juice she'd asked for
earlier and sipping from the broad white straw. "I don't know. I can sort of
get used to being saved instead of doing the saving." She leaned back
against the sinfully comfortable pillows. "And they were all okay, too."

	Her wife rolled her eyes. "Pure, dumb beginner's luck. Close
quarters combat with those . . . things, and just some scratches and
bruises?"

	"Sailo . . . that is, Mizuno-san says they were magically enhanced
organics. Along the same lines as old fashioned youma or phages, but more
intelligent." Jen shrugged. "Or at least, that's what the reports are
saying. They were smart enough to swarm Mercury, Neptune, and Venus like
that."

	Eileen grinned. "Don't forget that it was Takeshi's idea to bring
the ceiling down on them."

	"And cause several million yen of damage to the Palace," Jen pointed
out. "Which was of course incidental to all the other damage. How long did
they say it would take to repair?"

	"They're still making estimates." Eileen shrugged. "It'll definitely
be awhile before they'll let anyone in for tours, though. Good thing the
damage to Mare Crisium wasn't so severe."

	"We were lucky. If they'd had any sense, they would have hammered
Headquarters more severely. As it was, we didn't take any senshi casualties."
Jen sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Too many dead civilians, though."

	The two lay in silence for awhile, separated by a meter of cold tile
floor. "Jen?"

	"Yes?"

	"What's going to happen?"

	"You mean, after the inquiries, debates, speeches, funerals, and
panels?"

	Eileen smirked. "Yes, Poindexter."

	"Um, Poindexter. National Security Adviser in the 1970s?"

	"1980s, actually. Old saying for someone excessively smart, which of
course we both are." Eileen blew a sigh, folding her arms behind her head.
"Seriously, Jen. We were lucky it wasn't worse. Especially if those
whatever-they-were--"

	"Mizuno-sensei wants to call them sporeforms. Or sporata. Something
like that. Pretty ingenious by whoever designed them, packing all the
necessary information into something the size of a pollen grain." Jen shook
her head slowly. "I guess we were just lucky enough Mizuno-sensei could find
them at all." She sat up, very carefully, and watched as the screen showed
muted images of Sailor Jupiter at a press conference.

	Eileen followed her gaze. "She's good. Make a fine leader someday."

	"She makes a fine leader now," came a third voice from the direction
of the door. Both women turned, surprised, to look at the pink-haired woman
who stood at the door. "Oh, don't bother getting up, I know neither of you
are in much condition to bow and scrape as usual."

	"Sorry, ladies," said Sailor Saturn as she peeked from behind the
Queen. "I tried to get her to stay in bed."

	"I'm not that bad off," retorted Serenity. She giggled as she walked
into the room and settled into one of the vinyl-upholstered chairs across
from the beds. "The doctors really would prefer I not get up, but I really
don't think they took my healing factor into account."

	"Ami-chan did," pointed out Sailor Saturn softly as she sat next to
her fiancee. "I think you ignored her polite suggestions to stay in bed.
Repeatedly."

	Serenity smiled sheepishly. "I had to come, though. I've much to do
today, and much to do for quite awhile, actually. So I needed to make sure I
saw you well before you decided to head back to Hinansho."

	"I see," said Jen slowly. "well, it's always a pleasure to see you,
Your Majesty. Why did you want to see us?"

	"An oversight on my part, I'm afraid. I meant to give you two gifts,
very precious ones, in the form of some old pre-Silence Waterford crystal
and another item. It was really an excellent piece, but unfortunately it was
destroyed in the . . . incident. So I had to come up with something better,
and with almost no preparations. And it of course had to be better than
anything anyone else gave you." She sighed. "Of course, none of those
survived either, did they?"

	Eileen brightened. "Actually, a few of them did. My mom's present,
for example."

	"Which was?" prompted Saturn.

	"A hope chest. It's basically a trunk filled with various odds and
ends," she continued at the blank expressions on their two faces. "This
one'd been passed down since the 1700s in my family. Hopefully I can pass it
on to my daughter, if I ever have one."

	"Good to know, then," said the Queen, smiling the smile of a woman
who has a juicy secret she's about to spill, but wanting to drag it out as
long as possible. Sailor Saturn, who was well acquainted with that
expression, simply rolled her eyes in resignation and waited. "It's good to
know that it--and both your parents--also survived with only minor injuries.
Which brings me to the matter of your present, or at least the first one."

	Jen blinked, then shook her head quickly. "Your Majesty, if you're
going to go to the expense of another goblet--"

	"Of course not!" Serenity frowned at the suggestion. "No, I've
something much better in mind. More fitting, too."

	Eileen sat forward a bit, her eyes fixed on Serenity. "And just how
will you do that?"

	"By giving you what you want most. A child." The wives blinked,
causing Serenity's smile to grow even broader. "It's fairly simple. Besides,
I'm told it's traditional for married couples to look into the possibility
of being parents as well." She cocked an eyebrow. "Or are you turning down
my generosity?"

	A long, pregnant pause. Jen and Eileen stared at their Queen, then
at each other, then at the Queen. Eileen grinned like a madwoman. "Hell no!"

	"She means we'll accept the gift most gratefully, Your Majesty,"
said Jen in a voice which was only slightly less enthusiastic.

	Serenity turned to look at Sailor Saturn. "Told you so."

	Saturn sighed. "Serenity-sama would have done it anyway. This just
gives her a convenient excuse."

	"Whatever works," said Serenity with a shrug. "And it's nothing less
than the two of you deserve." She smiled slightly, standing, and walking
between the beds. "I'll have to wait a few days for your injuries to heal,
but the actual process is pretty simple. You can use the time to decide
which of you will carry."

	The two bedridden women both blushed slightly. Serenity stifled a
giggle; obviously neither of them had thought through *that* side of things.
"Right. I just wanted to tell you in person . . . and to see that you're both
doing well, which you are. Good." She reached over, giving them both
friendly kisses on their cheeks, turning to depart. Serenity made it to the
door before Sailor Saturn coughed politely. "Yes?"

	Saturn tapped her left ring finger lightly. "You're forgetting
something?"

	Serenity snapped her fingers. "Right. My apologies." She gestured,
and two small, soft pink jewel cases appeared on the small table between the
two beds. "From the planet senshi," she said. "Past and present." With a
small smile, she left, followed by Sailor Saturn.

	"Wait!"

	Serenity peeked back in. "Yes?"

	Jen scratched her head nervously. "You said there were two gifts."

	"Hm, I did, didn't I?" Serenity smiled, then shrugged. "The other
can wait." She winked before leaving again.

	"Odd." Eileen shrugged, picking up the box closest to her and
flicking it open. "Probably earrings or something. I hope they're cute,
tho--" Her eyes widened.

	Jen's head turned to face Eileen, a look of slight alarm on her
face. She brushed back a stray lock of hair. "What is it?"

	"Open it," said Eileen in a very soft, almost bewildered tone. Jen
blinked, uncertain as to what kind of earrings could provoke such a
reaction.

	Nestled in the beige cushion of the box was a ring unlike any she'd
seen before. Delicately wrought gold, the band seemed to have tiny, cut
rubies, opals, and sapphires along its sides. The centerpiece of the ring
was a diamond. Not a large one, not in the least ostentatious, but Jen knew
instinctively it must be an expensive cut, for it shown with the glimmer of
diamond which came only from the Crown Reserve mines of Io.

	She looked up wonderingly at Eileen. Her wife looked back, then
smiled slowly and nodded. With a bit of effort, she pulled down the railing
of her bed, slowly swinging her legs around. Eileen winced slightly as her
bare feet touched the cold tiled floor, but otherwise ignored it as she
knelt next to Jen's bed.

	Jen blushed slightly, but didn't resist as Eileen took her left
hand. She noticed the ring Eileen held was identical to the one in Jen's
box, except for the jewels along the band: those were sapphires and
emeralds. Then she lost all capacity for rational thought as Eileen slipped
the ring onto her finger. For a moment she felt an electric jolt, as if
shocked, and then she was suffused with a feeling of . . . joy. Of perfect
rightness. Her eyes lifted up to meet Eileen's, and she saw there a mirror
image of her own happiness, reinforced through the link she was still
struggling to understand.

	Without a word, Jen took Eileen's hand and repeated the process. She
saw Eileen flinch as it slid on, and smiled to herself as she saw she'd felt
the same thing. The two looked at their rings, turning them this way and
that, as if to convince themselves that they were real, not just figments of
their imaginations.

	Eileen stood, slowly, and slid into bed next to Jen. The hospital
bed wasn't really designed for two people, but neither cared much as they
settled under the covers, undoing buttons, shrugging off pajamas, exploring
with fingers.

	Some hours later, the floor's head nurse peeked in to see the two
sleeping, entangled, sheets greatly disturbed. She smiled to herself and
closed the door again.

	They could sleep for a bit longer.


Recreation Lounge
Inner Sanctum of the Planet Senshi and Queen Serenity II
Mare Crisium, Luna
5 September 3043
17:09 Lunar Standard Time

	"Hey, Takeshi-kun!"

	"Huh?" Takeshi looked up from his book, marking his page with an
index finger.

	Hatsuyo grinned, her head and shoulders poking around from the wall
which separated the sitting room from the small kitchenette of the lounge.
"Quit reading Sun Tzu and get your cute ass over here! We need some help."

	Takeshi sighed and put his book aside. "It's Clausewitz, not Sun
Tzu. I finished Art of War yesterday." He carefully stepped around Sakura
and Sharifa, who sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor playing a game
of chess, and walked across the sinfully plush carpet to the narrow kitchen.

	Hatsuyo was standing next to the stove, which had pots bubbling away
on all four burners. This wasn't what drew his attention first, though--it
was Achika, who was busily sucking her thumb next to a cutting board, knife,
and three whole pineapples. "Achika cut herself trying to slice these
things. You have a try."

	The redhead blinked. "Um . . . why can't you?"

	Hatsuyo gestured to the stove. "I've got too much stuff to keep
track of. Hell, it's not even *my* night to do dinner!"

	"You did volunteer," said Chiharu sweetly. The girl darted into the
room just long enough to grab a bottle of spring water from the spacious
refrigerator, then went back to continue watching the chess match.

	"Hmph." Hatsuyo picked up a fork and resumed stirring the contents
of one pot. "Just to get it out of the way. I was perfectly happy eating
what the chefs prepared."

	"It's team building," said Achika. She examined her thumb and
satisfied herself that the bleeding had slowed enough for her not to worry
about it too much. "Helps us work together."

	"Looks like I'm the one doing all the work around here," Hatsuyo
protested, but she had a slight smile on her face as she worked.

	Takeshi looked back between the two outer senshi and smiled, shaking
his head. They'd all put the events of the first away with surprising
quickness. Amazing how quickly one forgot the terrors and horrors of combat
when confronted with the everyday routines, workouts, and of course,
training.

	He sighed. Silly to have thought that their rigorous academic,
physical, and magical training would have stopped the day he and the others
helped to save all Luna from the aliens. Instead, their studies had only
doubled, and that in addition to all the new duties their positions
entailed.

	His fingers flew deftly as he sliced one, then another, pineapple
into neat, ringed slices. His mind drifted into a realm of amino acids and
phospholipids, as he thought back to the never ending lectures on their
enemies.

	The quadropods, as the xenobiologists had labeled them--Takeshi, and
almost everyone else, simply called them pods, and Mizuno's suggestion had
been ignored--were an enigma. As best as could be determined from a
molecular-level scan of the Throne Room--the only way Sailor Jupiter would
even hear of the Queen re-entering it--the pods originated as tiny specks
the size of a grain of sand. This similarity to the kinetic attacks
immediately led to an investigation of the park dome collapse and damaged
hull of HMS Furuhata for similarities.

	Once the grains found their way into a suitable nitrogen/oxygen
atmosphere, such as the one maintained inside Luna, they germinated, biding
their time before a burst of magical energy made them "hatch." After that,
for unknown reasons, perhaps because of programming, they attacked.

	They'd been lucky, he knew. While resistant to most normal weapons,
they seemed nicely vulnerable to the firepower of a senshi. Even better, the
senshi were prepared for next time. Contingency plans were already being
made for the next time they showed up, but Takeshi wasn't particularly
looking forward to it. Neither was anyone else.

	"Fucking pods." Well, almost no-one else.

	"Hm?" Takeshi asked politely.

	"They had to ruin a perfectly good wedding reception. And food. You
don't mess with food, not in my book."

	"Um, yeah. Where do you want these pineapples?"

	Hatsuyo gestured vaguely in the direction of the sink. "Just dump
'em over there somewhere." She tossed her head back impatiently. "Think
they'll be back soon?"

	"Maybe," said Takeshi cautiously. He looked about, found a
rectangular plastic tub which looked about the right size, and began
depositing the pineapple slices into it. "Whatever they wanted this time,
they didn't get it. So maybe they'll try again."

	"Or maybe they'll decide we're too much for them and give up?"
Achika shrugged, leaning against the wall. "There's really no way of telling
until they decide to communicate with us."

	"Or the guys who sent them communicate with us," said Hatsuyo. She
peeked back around the wall. "Are mushrooms okay?"

	Sharifa looked up from her impending check of Sakura's king and
glanced at Sakura and Chiharu. The girls nodded. "Mushrooms are fine." Her
eyes flicked back down to the chessboard, frowning. Moving her bishop to
put the king in check would work for a time, but it was really only a
delaying action. She had the sickening suspicion that Sakura had laid yet
another of her intricate traps, and that one check would be what sprung it.

	She checked Sakura's face. The girl's grey eyes were calm,
impassive. She'd have a perfect poker face, if she'd ever play poker--which
she studiously avoided, calling it a game for the intellectually bankrupt.
Sharifa suspected this sentiment sprang more from the fact that it was one
of Hatsuyo's favorite pastimes than any deep-seated convictions.

	Next to them stood Chiharu. She shifted nervously from foot to foot,
looking down at the board from above and wrinkling her forehead as she
worked through the moves and counter-moves both players had already spent
quite a while considering. She then looked at the antique chess clock they
used. Swiss craftsmanship, it had been a gift to Sharifa's father, who had
subsequently "loaned" it to her. "You're in trouble, Sharifa-chan," Chiharu
said.

	Sharifa's eyebrow twitched. "I think I see it. I also think there's
a way out, though," she said, more confidently than she felt. "How are you
coming along on your little differential equation problem?"

	Chiharu shrugged, sitting next to them and glancing at the clock on
the wall. "Okay, I guess. I have an idea for a solution, but I need to run a
couple of the variables by Ziggy in the morning. Did you ever get the
request approved?"

	"As a matter of fact, yes." Sharifa sighed and picked up her bishop,
moving it to check the king, then leaned back on her arms and smiled. The
die was cast, for better or worse. "They're still not sure where to put it,
but we definitely will have a nice grand piano."

	"We could get rid of the pinball machine," Sakura pointed out. "It
isn't as if any of us are going to use it."

	Chiharu nodded. "I'd much rather play piano than pinball."

	"That's what I thought too," said Sharifa, "but I understand
Takeshi-kun is a bit partial to keeping it. I suppose I can have a word with
him; I'd really rather have a consensus than the formality of a vote." She
looked at her teammates with a soft smile. "Amazing, isn't it?"

	"Is what?" asked Sakura, not looking away from the board.

	"Well . . . we're planet senshi. We ask for a grand piano, and the
only worry we have is where to put it. We've all moved quite a bit up in the
world."

	"I suppose," said Sakura. She picked up her knight and interposed it
between king and bishop. "Checkmate in five moves." Ignoring Chiharu and
Sharifa's stunned expressions, she twirled a lock of hair. "It's also a good
way to get killed, if we aren't all at the top of our games. Should make
things interesting, at least." She brightened. "So, ice cream for dessert?"


Mare Crisium Spaceport
Mare Crisium, Luna
30 September 3043
13:44 Lunar Standard Time

	Eisaku Hirota hurriedly flashed his ID at the guards, then scurried
past the security checkpoint and on toward Gate A. A was where VIP flights
departed from, and this definitely qualified as a VIP occasion.

	As he rounded the final corner--having dodged countless other
travelers on the way--he quickly slowed to a calm walk, pretending he hadn't
been in a rush. Serenity picked up on his shortness of breath, though. "Did
you have a nice jog, Hirota-san?"

	Eisaku blushed slightly. "I apologize for my lateness, Your Majesty,
but the situation with the EU--"

	"Understood. You did a good job with that, actually." Serenity
smiled, turning back to the senshi she'd been speaking to. "See, Saturn? I
told you he'd be here."

	Sailor Saturn smiled and gave Eisaku a wink. "I never doubted it."

	Eisaku smiled back, a bit more easily than he would have months
before, and bowed to the Queen, then to the senshi who were there. There
were quite a few, actually: Saturn, Mars, Jupiter, Uranus and Neptune in a
pair, Venus, Mercury, Orion, and America. Eisaku noted the particularly
sharp looks the last two gave him, and wondered why the newlyweds would be
so interested in him. "I have to confess I was a bit surprised when you
summoned me here."

	"I thought you might be," said Serenity with a small smile. She
folded her hands behind her back, looking at him intently. "You've been our
ambassador to the EU for some time, and yet your visits there have been very
limited, correct?"

	"Ah, yes," he said cautiously. "I've been kept much more busy in
affairs here, Your Majesty, as you're no doubt aware." He waited, knowing
the Queen wouldn't waste time saying things they both knew without reason.

	Serenity nodded. "Right. However, there's also the small matter of
your usefulness here. You have a pretty keen mind, and not just in
diplomacy. Politics, as well."

	Eisaku blinked. "Thank you, Your Majesty, but it wasn't really my
intent. It just happened that many of my dealings with the EU embassy have
verged into the political--"

	"Don't make excuses!" Serenity smiled, taking away the sharp tang of
her words. "I'm complimenting you, not calling you up on the carpet. And
explaining what I've decided." Sailor Saturn made a sound which didn't quite
qualify as a cough. "And to apologize for the timing of it all, I'm afraid.
You see, I've decided that you're a man of many talents, and they're talents
which are being wasted at the ambassadorial level."

	"They are?" Eisaku gaped, then regained his composure with a bit of
effort. "Your Majesty, while I'm flattered, I'm not sure leaving my post so
quickly would be wise. I've just gotten into the swing of things, I've
finally gotten a staff which works well with me." He shook his head
slightly. "I really must respectfully decline a transfer, Your Majesty."

	Sailor Mars giggled, until hushed quickly by Sailor Jupiter.
Serenity smiled as well. "No, you see, this isn't a transfer. It's a
promotion, and one you would do very well to accept. The governor of
Hinansho has submitted his resignation, citing a need to spend more time
with his family. I would like to appoint you to take his place."

	Eisaku blinked once, then twice, ignoring all the smiling faces
around him to center on Serenity's. "Your Majesty, I . . . you can't be
serious! Me? Governor?"

	"You'll find that it involves very little which you're not already
familiar with. The need to negotiate, delegate, balance the needs of a
colony against those of Luna far away. I've asked around, and you're the
name everyone thinks of first. More to the point, Sailors Orion and America
requested you."

	"Requested?" He turned to look at the couple in question, who stood
holding hands next to the closed blue double doors of Gate A. "Senshi don't
request governors."

	"Correct, they don't. But as it happens, Hinansho is a special
case." She glanced at Sailor Saturn, who stepped forward.

	"You see, Hirota-san," continued Sailor Saturn, "Her Majesty has
made a rather unusual move in the case of Hinansho, one she expects to set a
precedent for the other colonies."

	"Which is?" he asked, once it became clear Saturn was waiting for
some sort of reply.

	"Simple. She feels the time for colonies has passed, and thus has
made Hinansho a full-fledged member of the Moon Kingdom." Eisaku's eyes lit
with understanding, and she nodded. "The legal distinctions will take still
more precedents to establish, and you'll be instrumental in deciding just
where the line of jurisdiction is drawn, but essentially we'll be granting
Hinansho a degree of autonomy no other world has enjoyed.

	"We also decided that this meant our senshi there should be more
than just senshi. Larger responsibilities, after all, and more direct
authority over the planet and its people, not just in emergencies." She
smiled at Sailors Orion and America. The latter blushed slightly, while the
former positively beamed. "Thus, later this afternoon Her Majesty will
announce what she's really already done: the creation of the Duchy of
Hinansho, and the elevation of Jennifer Sakachi and Eileen Pearcy to the
peerage as the Duchesses Hinansho."

	Eisaku blinked. Between his last minute run, his appointment as
governor, and now this, he now felt rather like a punch-drunk prizefighter
at the end of the tenth round. "We don't have a peerage," he said in what he
thought was a rather calm, reasoned voice.

	"We do now," she said simply. "Hinansho won't be the only one; just
the first."

	"After all," said Sailor Orion with a smile, "we're setting so many
precedents in the last few months, a couple more won't hurt."

	"I see," Eisaku said slowly. "I guess you'll be wanting me to travel
back on HMS Vulcan with them?"

	Serenity nodded. "Your possessions are being transferred aboard as
we speak. Sailor Cassiopeia already drafted your resignation letter, you've
only to sign it."

	Eisaku nodded dumbly, then blinked. "Wait . . . how did you know I
would say yes? For that matter, I still haven't agreed!"

	"I know you, Eisaku-kun," she said, patting his shoulder. "And I
know you won't disappoint me, or the kingdom."

	The double-doors opened, and Captain Ichiyusai stepped out from the
shuttle's boarding tube, tugging her uniform tunic back into place. "Your
Majesty," she said with a deep bow, then saluting the senshi. "We're going
to complete our refueling in another five minutes. We're ready to take them
up now."

	The Queen nodded. "Thank you." She walked to Orion and America, then
hugged them both tightly, causing them to blush from the embarrassment. "Take
care, you two. I expect you to set good examples for all the senshi peers
we'll be dealing with. And *you*, you take especial care of yourself," she
said to Sailor America, patting her stomach lightly. The brunette blushed
more, even as she smiled. Her impending pregnancy had been made public the
week before, even though various medical and magical complications had
forced them to delay the actual conception.

	"We will," said Sailor Orion, putting an arm around her wife's
waist. "And . . . thank you for everything. You're really been far too
generous."

	"Well, of course," said Serenity with a grin. "What are queens for?"

	"To labor their subjects with titles and peerages?" asked Sailor
America, smiling despite herself and patting the Queen's back. "Come by and
visit sometime, okay?"

	Serenity nodded. "I'll make it a priority."

	Saturn and the others waved as Eisaku and the two Hinansho senshi
made their way to the shuttle. Sailor Uranus blinked back an unexpected tear
as she did, one which didn't go unnoticed by Neptune. "They're not dying,
you know. Just going home."

	"I know," Uranus said softly. "It's just that it's not *my* home
anymore."

	Sailor Neptune blinked, surprised, then gave her partner a gentle
hug.

	Sailor Mars giggled. "They make such a cute couple."

	Sailor Jupiter raised an eyebrow. "Uranus and Neptune?"

	"No! Orion and America."

	"Ah." Sailor Jupiter nodded slowly. "They do, at that. May they have
a long happy life."

	"Oh, they will," said Sailor Mercury with a smile. "I have it on
good authority."

	"Oh?" asked Sailor Venus. "Did you ask Pluto?"

	Sailor Mercury shook his head. "Better. I asked *them*.

	Sailor Venus blinked, confused.

	Sailor Jupiter smiled slightly, then nodded and pushed herself off
the chrome railing on which she leaned. "Your Majesty, if you're ready?" The
Queen nodded, and Jupiter nodded in turn to her five friends. They fanned
out in a circle around the Queen and her fiance and set off to escort them
back to the Royal chambers, none of them sparing a backward glance at the
double doors of Gate A as they closed with a click.

	In their wake was the soft, almost undetectable scent of roses.




                                  Epilogue



Room 1009
Nagano-2 General Hospital
Nagano-2, Duchy of Hinansho, Moon Kingdom
23 December 3044
04:43 Nagano-2 Standard Time

	She stared up at the ceiling.  It was fascinating.  Whites, lots of
whites, all different kinds of whites.  Some of the whites were thinner than
the others, and formed interesting patterns.

	She yawned.  She was very tired.

	She managed to roll over a bit on the bed.  She still wasn't too
good at doing it yet; her muscles hadn't built up sufficiently.  It would be
a long time until she could do it easily.

	Two shapes floated nearby.  One brown, one red.  Both seemed
important, for reasons she couldn't quantify.  She felt the urge to be with
them, and she called for them the only way she knew how.

	"She's crying," said Jen quietly, sitting next to Eileen's rocking
chair.

	"Yeah.  I guess she wants to be picked up?"

	Jen smiled and patted Eileen's thigh.  "You'd better do it, then. 
She's your daughter."

	"*Our* daughter."

	"Well, yes, but you're the one who went through labor.  All I did
was provide half her DNA."

	Eileen smirked.  "You're impossible."

	Jen giggled and stood, clad in sterile green scrubs.  Walking over
to the clear bassinet, she picked up the tiny baby and carried her back to
Eileen.  The brunette smiled and cradled the child in her arms, rocking back
and forth in the chair.  "She's beautiful."

	"Yes, she is."  The baby's eyes shut tightly as her cries stopped
and she fell back to sleep.  "I wonder what she'll be like?" Jen sat next to
her, gently stroking the child's hair, which hadn't quite decided whether to
be brown or red, and the eyes which flashed between blue and grey at random.

	Eileen shrugged.  "We have all the time in the world to find out."

	Between them, Lady Elizabeth Jessica Kylie Sakachi-Pearcy of
Hinansho slumbered peacefully.

fin.

First Draft: 6 December 2002 14:56
First Edit: 9 December 2002 12:55
Final Edit: 27 December 2002 23:10