As they say at concerts "One...more...time!"

Comments and helpful criticisim is welcomed, flames will be fed to the 
goat-llama.

Disclaimer: The Moldiver Anime is owned by Pioneer and copyrighted by them. 
No money is being made from this and no such intent should be infered.

-Steve "Komodo" T.
Goat and Llama crossbreeding is bad.
Trust me on this.

"Basic physics. A beam of light can be diverted.
Can I go home now, Mommy?"
-Flynn, "Tron"

**************
"The Moldiver Mark Two? You made another?"

"Yeah. What? I thought you'd be pleased."

"Well duh. Thank you, big brother."

"You're welcome. Um...Mirai, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Are you kidding? This is gonna be great!"

**************
Two years later...

"Son of a bitch..."

It has been said that a land with a hero(ine) in it, will usually find tasks 
for him or her to do.

"Horse raping..."

When recently told this, Mirai Oroza's response peeled the paint off the 
wall, blew the speaker's hair back and left them quivering in abject fear of 
soft silky things.

"Grandstanding idiotic shit for brains..."

Mirai, you see, was firmly convinced that Japan was out to get her.

How?

By driving her insane.

"Kami-be-damned...FUCK-OFFS!"

Ever since she had become Moldiver and acquired the title of "Tokyo's 
Guardian Angel", ninety percent of the lunatics in the city had decided that 
he or she was a superhero, supervillan, or somehow got exposed to toxic goo, 
gas, ooze, radiation, or some other shit that probably wasn't good for you. 
When they didn't immediately disintegrate and instead became a 
mutant/superhuman/Demigod, they immediately made a stupid costume and set out 
to either join Moldiver in her "crusade against evil" or try and kill 
her/take over the world/Tokyo/Japan/commit genocide or one of a hundred other 
stupid manga-esque plots. The rest built suits and proceeded to do the same 
thing.

If she sat down and added up the time she spent saving those idiots from 
their own delusions, versus the time she spent doing some actual good, she 
was willing to bet she'd find more of the former then the latter.

And of course, if that wasn't enough, there was Professor Machinegal.

Machinegal was the living embodiment of the old Chinese proverb: "Insanity is 
doing the same thing in the same way and expecting different results."

Roughly about three months after the launch of the Sakigake, Machinegal's 
Superdolls had attacked an office building. After systematically killing each 
and every person inside, they had then leveled it before erecting a banner 
which ordered Tokyo to hail Emperor Machinegal. The move had caught Moldiver 
by surprise, she'd been asleep when it happened and like most, had found out 
about it as the thunder of it's collapse had rolled across the city in the 
early morning light.

It was a complete hundred and eighty turn around for Machinegal, who up until 
that point, had been a thief of old technology from the late 20th and early 
21st century. 

What had made him change his mind, she couldn't say. Despite their many 
battles, she'd never actually come face to face with the mad bastard, only 
with his usual six agents. The seventh one-Isabelle-had died in the sun 
during the Sakigake's launch.

She sighed and put such thoughts out of her mind as she rocketed over the 
metropolis that was mid twenty-first century Tokyo at three times the speed 
of sound. No sonic booms marked her passage, no noise of any kind. There was 
only the subtle red glow of her flight field, nearly invisible against the 
bright light of the noontime sky. The GPS system informed her that she was 
three degrees off course and she shifted her angle and increased her speed as 
she descended

********
One of the advantages to being able to move at near light speeds without 
creating sonic booms is that its difficult to be seen, and nobody noticed as 
she landed behind a building at the Kamiru shrine. Taking a precautionary 
glance around, she reached behind her back and then through her shirt and 
pulled out a small, circuit covered rectangle. For a moment, she glowed and 
then she was gone to be replaced by a very naked Mirai Ozora.

"So how did it go?" came her brother's voice over her ear piece as she opened 
her satchel and pulled out her clothes.

""I swear, if one more fat woman puts on a spandex costume and tries to help 
or hinder me..." Mirai replied as she fastened her bra. After her tampering 
with the first unit had produced some...unexpected side effects, Hiroshi had 
absolutely forbid her to touch his computer in any way, shape or form without 
his direct supervision. He had also insisted on revamping her outfit to make 
it more 'superheroic'. Unlike the previous outfit, which had resembled a 
dance costume, the new suit was a long sleeved white and red sailor blouse 
with red shoulder armor over a black spandex turtleneck. Her pants were pink 
with red high-heeled boots that came just up to above her knees. Black gloves 
and a dark blue cape completed the ensemble, flaring behind her like wings in 
flight and enclosing her in it's depths when she was on the ground. The 
helmet with it's blue visor was sleeker, but still unmistakable.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what happened to 'this is gonna be great'?"

"Shaddup," Mirai snarled and removed the ear piece, her thumb flicking it 
off. With practiced motions, she pulled on her shirt and pants and slid her 
feet into her shoes. After two years, she had refined speed dressing to an 
art form, and could put on the most complicated outfit in under two minutes. 
It was kind of cool, but cool didn't pay the bills, especially when you were 
as addicted to the shopping mall as Mirai was. Everyone needed a vice or two.

Fortunately for her, her curves, athletic figure and natural poise made her 
an ideal model, pitch woman, and pageant contestant. Taking the crown, 
walking the runway, or starring in a commercial was good for a few months of 
keeping the creditors away.

For a moment, just a moment, the temptation to use the mol-unit and just take 
what she wanted reared its head. Her hands began shaking and moved to her 
pocket when she had another vision, this one of a little girl whom she had 
saved from being crushed from debris some months back. The kid's face was one 
of wide-eyed adoration and it gave Mirai the strength to push the temptation 
away. 'I'm Moldiver to help people,' she thought to herself. 'That's why I 
have the unit. To help people. Not hurt them, help them.' Her hands steady 
once more, she slung the satchel over her shoulder and headed for the shrine 
to pray as she had every day for the past two years, for the safe return of 
Kenchi Misaki, the first human to go beyond the confines of Sol, and more 
importantly, her soulmate.

********
Six months later...

"An upgrade?" Mirai asked skeptically as she examined the slim rectangle that 
was the mol-unit. It was now metallic black and silver, with no visible 
circuits, just the green orb of the mol crystal.

"Yep," Hiroshi said with a smile. "Mostly longer battery life, some 
additional communications equipment, and an Electronic Counter Measures suite 
which should render you completly invisible!" He cackled maniacally for a few 
seconds.

"Well that's fine," Mirai said. "Until someone points an infrared or 
ultraviolet camera at me." She rolled her eyes and sighed theatrically. 
"Don't you watch any TV?"

"Mirai...if infrared or ultraviolet was a threat, you would have been found 
out a long time ago. Hello, full spectrum security cameras at the ropeway and 
shooter gates? Full spectrum tracking equipment? The suit is a 
transdimensional manifestation that only registers on the visible portion of 
the light spectrum."

Mirai stared at him blankly and Hiroshi sighed. Mirai was very bright, with 
an IQ that was around genius level (the tests contradicted each other as to 
the exact number), but she had no aptitude for, or rather no interest, in 
technology. The more complicated aspects of all things silicon and anything 
more then basic physics made her eyes glaze over. Still, she had a knack for 
chemistry, even if she only used her skills to make homemade makeup. "The 
mol-suit's exterior temperature is that of the air around it, so infra-red 
won't pick it up, and it doesn't register on the ultraviolet light spectrum." 
He looked down, tapping his chin. "I should really find out why it does 
that." 

"Oh." Mirai stared the mol-unit for a moment longer and then looked up to see 
Hiroshi staring at his bare feet. 

"And new socks," he was muttering, "I definitely need new socks. I can see 
right through these."

"Geniuses..." Mirai muttered in exasperation and hit him with a sheaf of 
papers, jolting him back to reality.

"Huh? Oh...er...yes, um, you can only leave the suite on for eleven minutes. 
After that, the unit automatically shuts off for one hour to prevent 
overheating and fused circuits." 

"A time limit on the suit? I thought you took that out."

"Not the suit, the suite. The ECM suite. It takes a lot of power and 
generates a lot of heat within the unit. As long as you don't use the suite, 
the unit has no time limit and no heat problems. But, once you turn on the 
suite, the timer kicks in. It's that or risk permanently damaging the unit." 
He pushed his glasses up his nose. "It's not much, but it should give you 
another edge against Machinegal and Moldiver Three, if he ever shows up 
again." Hiroshi didn't say it, but the fact that there was someone else out 
there with mol-tech had him very jumpy.

"Yeah, its weird how he just disappeared after the launch" Mirai said. "I 
thought people like that always wanted rematches." Her cheerful smile became 
almost hungry with anticipation. "I'm ready anytime he is, the bastard."

"Changing subjects," Hiroshi said. Mirai had definitely changed in two years. 
Gazing daily into the dark shadows of human behavior both here in Tokyo and 
various places throughout Eastern Eurasia had, psychologically speaking, 
altered Mirai in ways that Hiroshi didn't want to think about. The eyes were 
windows to the soul, and the view through Mirai's was daily getting further 
away from cheerful and closer to terrifying. Their parents hadn't seen it, 
but that was only a matter of time. Especially after the recent affair with 
the food riots in Banladesgh. He repressed a shudder. Moldiver had tied up 
the man behind the riots  and then flown him to almost three miles over 
Southeast Eurasia, and set the rope on fire. For three minutes, as one by 
one, the charred fibers snapped, Moldiver had hovered, watching calmly as he 
blustered and threatened. Finally, as the last fibers began to snap, he 
confessed to his crimes and she caught him just as the rope snapped. As they 
came back down, the man babbled, confessing to everything from armed robbery 
to child prostitution and a single jerk on the rope caused him to repeat his 
confessions to the police.

Later, when she had returned home, Hiroshi had asked her what she would have 
done had he not confessed.

"I have an audition tomorrow," was her reply. "I need to sleep." With that, 
she had turned and gone into her room, closing the door behind her.

A sheaf of papers hit him. "Huh?" he asked.

"You said you were changing subjects," Mirai reminded him. "Changing to what?"

"To...um...oh yes! Nozumu wrote us from M.I.T."

"Oh?" Mirai asked. Soon after the launch of the Sakigake, the youngest Oroza 
sibling had been discovered building his very own mecha. Proud as could be, 
and with a little help from Hiroshi's mentor and her friend Professor Amagi, 
their mother had packed the young genius off to M.I.T.' youth scientists 
program, an international effort to find and develop the talent of young 
Technologists. Without Amagi, who had not only founded the program, but had a 
seat on the Board of Directors, Nozumu would have been put on the waiting 
list and it would have been several years before he got in. 

Nozumu hadn't been very happy about it, but she wouldn't have any of it. "No 
son of mine with this sort of potential is going to squander his gift by 
sitting around this house," she had said.

"How is he?" Mirai asked. 

"Hard to say," Hiroshi said. "It was a short note. Sounds like they're 
keeping him pretty busy."

"Well that's good," Mirai said as she pocketed the mol-unit. Then she glanced 
at her watch. "Eeep! I'm late!"

*********************
Six more months pass...

Mirai yawned as she slipped in her window and set the unit on her night 
stand. A tech-pirate named Kawaso had broken out of jail, again, and swiped 
an experimental military land sea and air craft. He had then painted it 
different colors and tried to sell it back to its original owners. Needless 
to say, Kawaso's name didn't exactly make companies tremble in fear.

The problem was that Kawaso was very good at hiding and Moldiver had spent 
most of the night going through the Three Towers level by level trying to 
find him and the stolen craft.

She'd found him on one of the residential levels in Tower Three behind a 
billboard. How he had gotten it there without anyone noticing was a mystery. 
"Not my department," she mumbled as she plugged the unit into the charger. 
Though the unit didn't have a limiter, it was powered by a battery, and 
though the power usage was miniscule, Mirai prudently recharged the battery 
on a daily basis. You never knew when you'd be away from a power outlet and 
she had used the ECM for a few minutes to sneak up on Kawaso.

Throwing on an oversized shirt, she crawled into bed and fell asleep even as 
she was pulling the covers up.

The slamming of her bedroom door woke Mirai up, offering the view of Hiroshi, 
standing in the doorway, lit by the hall light.

"Come on! It's all over the news!"

"What is?" she groaned. It felt like she had only gone to sleep ten minutes 
ago. Her gaze fell on her clock. It had been only ten minutes ago. 'I'll kill 
him,' she thought. 'Where's my bokken?'

"Hurry!" With that, he ran off and she could hear him banging on the door to 
their parent's room.

Finally, the thought that he wouldn't have woken both her and their parents 
up unless it was important made itself known and yawning, Mirai pulled on her 
robe and walked down the hallway to the living room. Hiroshi was already 
sitting in front of the TV, staring at it as though the fate of the universe 
depended on how much attention he was paying.

"Once again," the newscaster was saying. "the S.E.T.I. project in Silicon 
Valley has confirmed that the S.O.R.T.A., or Sol Orbiter Radio Telescope 
Array, which orbits Pluto, has received a signal from somewhere in the 
Constellation of Draco. All we know at this point is that message contains 
audio and video elements and appears to be on the same hyper-wavelength radio 
frequency used to communicate with the Sakigake during the launch sequence." 
At that, the fog of sleep vanished from Mirai's mind. "A ZIC Aerospace 
spokesperson would only say that ZIC is working closely with S.E.T.I. to 
decode the transmission, which is apparently garbled and will reveal new 
information as it-wait." The newscaster paused and pressed a finger to her 
ear piece. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I've just been informed that they've 
cleaned up the audio portion of the transmission as best they could. We go 
now to the satellite feed."

The image of the newscaster dissiolved into the image of a man. He was tall 
and broad-shouldered with black hair was cut in a military style. The 
picture, a still image from the Sakigake's press kit was a good three years 
out of date, but Mirai drank it in anyways.

"This is Pilot Kenchi Misaki of the Dimension Jump Project >SZZZZZKK< 
Contact, repeat, First Contact >FSHHHHKKKK< Heavy Damage. I-" There was the 
sound of an explosion and a tortured, animalistic howl. ">PSHHHHNNNKT< gake 
completly destroyed >RRRSKKKK< requesting assistance. >FSHHHHKKKK< Moldiver 

SKZZZZNIKT< " There was another explosion and the sound of someone shouting 

in an alien, harshly beautiful language. The picture vanished to be replaced 
by the newscaster, her face completly pale. "I'm...I'm told that the message 
repeats after that...second explosion. More after this."

Hiroshi bolted from the room.

********
The next few days passed in a blur for Mirai. When not working or sleeping 
she was camped in front of the TV, her portable computer on her lap. Hiroshi 
had locked himself in his room, emerging only to eat or use the facilities.

All over the world, most people were in a state of shock, prompting one 
journalist to note the similarity in people's reactions to nearly fifty years 
ago when terrorists had flown two jetliners into the World Trade Center in 
New York, and a third into the Pentagon, killing thousands of people. For 
several days afterwards, people, both back then, and now, went through the 
motions of their daily lives as they tried to cope with the fact that 
something so unthinkable had occured. 

But there was no denying that it hadn't occured. This wasn't a meteorite with 
vague possibilities, like that time back in the twentieth century, but an 
actual recording of an alien language with a declaration of First Contact.

On the net, it was a whole different story. Newsgroups posts blazed like 
wildfire across the digital landscape, flooding bandwidth with everything 
from shouts of joy that humanity was not alone in the universe, to conspiracy 
theories that Misaki had never launched and the message was a stunt by ZIC to 
garner more funding to everything in between. Threats, arguments, flames and 
worse zipped back and forth.

And then, one week later, ZIC and S.E.T.I. made two announcements. Firstly, 
they said that the S.O.R.T.A. had confirmed that the transmission came from 
the star Altais, a star of medium brightness a hundred point twenty-three 
light years from Earth and part of the constellation of Draco. This was 
backed up by the K.I.N.D.A. or Kepler Interstellar Nucleonic Detection Array, 
which orbited Neptune.

It was confirmed. Humans were not alone in the universe. So that left only 
question: What do we do now?

The answer came within hours in the form of a peculiar quirk which lies in 
the  psychological makeup of most politicians. This quirk decrees that if an 
ally or even better, a potential ally is in trouble of any kind, the first 
step must be to dispatch some kind of military force as quickly as possible 
and North American Alliance (N.A.A.) happily led the charge.

The first step was the Robert Goddard, a large scale cargo vessel that 
traveled between Earth and the very small colony on the Jovian moon Ganymede, 
was hereby drafted into service and recommissioned as the Sol Alliance Ship 
Saint Christopher. A move some found hilarious since the Sol Alliance didn't 
exist except as a set of initals painted onto the Christopher's hull.

Next, at the Martian shipyards, which normally built the mining ships that 
plied the asteroid belt, all production ceased and the yard's resources were 
instead directed towards, arming, armoring and stocking the Saint Christopher 
for an extended search and rescue operation in uncharted, hostile territory.

Meanwhile, on Earth, a call for volunteers went out. More then five thousand 
men and women in the planet's various armed forces responded and out of 
those, three hundred were selected.

Those three hundred people would be taken to the Martian deserts and 
subjected to the most grueling and demanding training the N.A.A.  Marine 
Corps could dream up to turn out the hundred seventy-five men and women who wo
uld crew the Saint Christopher.

Meanwhile, after nearly six weeks, Hiroshi emerged from his isolation, only 
to drag Mirai away from the TV and into his sanctum.

"I don't have time for this, Hiroshi," Mirai complained as he shut the door 
behind her. "Kenchi is-"

"Hundreds of Light Years away at the moment," Hiroshi replied. "And there's 
nothing you, or Moldiver can do for him." He grinned. "At least not until you 
have this." He handed her a mol-unit. This one was slightly larger then it's 
predecessors with a crystal that was a good four times bigger then the 
others. "I admit, its the equivalent of taking a pocket knife when you're 
going to be hunting dinosaurs, but its the best I could do." Mirai stared at 
him blankly. "Think, Mirai," Hiroshi said. "You gave Misaki a mol-unit. An 
extremely powerful mol-unit and he encountered something that made him call 
home for help."

"Oh," Mirai said, her eyes widening. Hiroshi sighed. "Now look at this, I've 
added a few things to the suit and made some other changes." A schematic of 
the suit appeared on his screen.

"Ewwww!" Mirai said. "What did you do? It looks so...different." Indeed, the 
suit had lost its neat colors and fashionable appearance. Colored black and 
dark blue, it was now less fashionable and more functional in an alien sort 
of way. Still...it would look rather good on her.

"Gave you a fighting chance, I hope. Look, Mirai, I know you, you're going to 
try everything you can to be on the Saint Christopher  when it launches, even 
if it means abandoning everyone and everything you know and love forever." 
Mirai flinched guiltily. "You've saved the world a hundred times," Hiroshi 
continued in a gentler tone. "But in my eyes, you're still my baby sister 
and..." he trailed off.

Mirai, her eyes brimming with tears, hugged him.

"Mirai," Hiroshi said after a few moments. "We have to tell Mom and Dad. If 
you're...leaving, they deserve to know why. And about Moldiver."

********
In the end, Mr. and Ms Oroza took the relavation of Mirai's secret life well. 
If you could call Mrs. Oroza hysterically screaming, calling Mirai a freak, 
and running from the room "taking it well."

It wasn't a totally unexpected reaction. After all,  Mirai and her mother had 
never gotten along well. A first class Technologist like her husband, Jun 
Oroza fully expected her children to follow in their footsteps, make a 
contribution, and become pillars of society.

Mirai sighed as she sat on her bed packing what few possessions she couldn't 
bear to leave behind. If only her mother had been more understanding, if only 
there had been another way, if only-she looked up at the sound of a knock on 
the door.

"Come in," she said. The door entered and her father entered the room, 
shutting the door behind him. "How's Mom?"

"Sleeping, at the moment," her father replied as he sat on the bed. "Mirai, 
why did you tell us you were Moldiver?"

Over the next hour, Mirai told her father the whole story. How Hiroshi had 
developed the mol-unit to make himself a superhero and how she had used his 
equipment to try and make it a little more fashionable, but instead had 
completly reversed the gender of the suit. From there, she told him of her 
first battles with Machinegal and his Superdolls, and finished up with the 
battle to save the Sakigake. "...and in his message, he said Moldiver," she 
said, winding up her tale. "I think he was asking for me and Hiroshi said he 
must have encountered something he couldn't handle, even with a mol-unit."

"So what makes you think you can do anything?"

"I can't sit here and do nothing!" Mirai exclaimed. "I have to try and make 
it to him! I love him, Dad!"

"Now calm down, Mirai," her father said. "I'm not saying you shouldn't do 
anything, but what about the people in Tokyo? The ones you've spent the last 
three years protecting? Are you really going to just abandon them?"

Mirai whimpered. She hadn't even thought about her fellow citizens and 
Moldiver was the only one who could stand up to Machinegal's Superdolls. Her 
love for Kenchi warred with the promise she had made at the race track three 
years ago to stand against evil.

"I...I..." Mirai started to hyperventilate.

"Easy," her father said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "All I'm saying is 
that you need to choose carefully. The consequences of our actions stay with 
us for the rest of our lives." He patted her shoulder and stood. "You do what 
you believe is the right thing to do."

"Oh hell..." Mirai said when he was gone.

********
"So you're gonna go, huh?" Hiroshi asked a few days later. He and Mirai were 
taking a stroll through the Botanical Gardens just enjoying each other's 
company. While they had never been close, working together as Moldiver had 
eliminated much of the sibling rivalry between them. The Saint Christopher 
was due to depart the next day and they were taking the chance to say 
good-bye.

"Yeah," Mirai said. "If nothing else, I have to keep whatever's going on out 
there away from Earth and-"

"Hiroshi, my boy," a man's voice said.

"Oh, hello, Professor Amagi," Hiroshi said, turning to bow to the white 
haired man sitting on a bench. "How are you?

"Quite well, quite well indeed." The old man chuckled. "Who's your friend?"

"You remember my sister Mirai, don't you?"

"Mirai? Oh yes. How are you?"

"I am well, thank you, Mirai said, suppressing a shudder as she bowed. She 
had never liked the professor. It was the eyebrows. They looked like a pair 
of slugs hanging from his forehead and he always seemed to be undressing her 
with his eyes.

"Your soda, Professor," said a blond haired woman as she joined them, handing 
Amagi a cup.

"Thank you, Isabelle. You remember my young friend Hiroshi, don't you?"

Of course," Isabelle said as she turned to face them. Mirai bit back a gasp. 
She knew those eyes. The last time she had seen them, they had been staring 
at her through the visor of a Superdoll helmet as they hovered in space near 
the sun, with the fate of the Sakigake at stake. But if she was here then 
that meant-

"And this is his sister Mirai," Amagi continued. Mirai, her face an 
expression of calm and bowed.

"Hello," she said, her voice squeaking slightly. A great many realizations 
were clamoring for attention inside her head and none of them were very 
pretty. "If you would excuse me, I'm not feeling very well all of a sudden."

"Yes, you are a bit pale," Amagi said, peering at her. "Here." he fumbled in 
his pocket and came up with a small package. "Take these."

"Thank you," Mirai said. "I should go get some water." and she ran off.

********
Mirai sat on the bench as the ropeway made its way between the towers, paying 
very little attention to the world around her.

Amagi was Machinegal. It all made sense now. Things like Amagi's insistence 
that his "specially trained team" should be the only one to attempt retrieval 
of the Yamato and how the Superdolls showed up so conveniently with no signs 
of resistance from the "team." Everything was falling into place.

'What am I going to do?' she wondered. 'Hiroshi practically worships Amagi. 
How can I tell him that his mentor is one of the most evil men on the face of 
the Earth? Oh, Kami-sama, tell me what to do.'

********
All to soon, the time came and Mirai, dressed in her robe and carrying her 
duffel, exited the house and stood there, the dew dampened grass squishing 
comfortably between her toes. Sighing, she dropped the duffel to the ground 
and turned to face her family. Her father and Hiroshi stood on the porch, 
hands in their pockets. Her mother was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, I guess this is good-bye," Hiroshi said. "You be careful out there, 
Mirai." 

Mirai hugged him tightly. "I will, Big Brother."

"Mirai," her father said. "I know you and your mother have never-"

"I can speak for myself, Ken," said a new voice. They turned to look at Jun 
Oroza. The matriarch of the household stood in the doorway, her face tear 
streaked. "Mirai, do you really intend to go through with this insanity?"

"It's not insanity, Mother," Mirai said, her tone more confrontational then 
she intended. "You heard the audio track. I have to keep whatever's happening 
out there away from Earth. I have a responsibility to-"

"To throw away your life?"

"If it means saving my fellow human beings, then yes, and gladly! Unlike you, 
I'm not selfish and uncaring!" The words were out before she could stop them. 
Jun stared at her a moment and then the sound of flesh against flesh was 
heard.

"You stupid girl," Jun said softly, her eyes ablaze with anger. "After all 
I've done for you."

Mirai stared at her, hand on her cheek where her mother had slapped her. Half 
a dozen responses flashing through her mind, half a dozen things to say.  But 
instead, she untied her robe and let it fall before holding up the mol-unit. 
"METAMORFORCE!"

The crystal flared to life and for Mirai, a bright white light obscured the 
world.

Like pair of giant hands, she felt as though she was being held and then a 
warm feeling washed over her and she felt as though she was being detached 
from her body. Then the HUD of the suit appeared before her eyes and the 
feeling of weightlessness vanished. For a moment longer, she stared at them 
and turned on her heel and walked back to her duffel and slinging it over one 
shoulder, she launched herself into the air and flew off at three times the 
speed of sound. 

As she left the moon behind, Hiroshi's voice crackled in her ear piece and 
Mirai blinked in surprise before realizing she must have automatically turned 
it on and put it in when she left her room.

"Mirai, I didn't get the chance to tell you. I made another mol crystal and 
reformatted the mark one for Captain Tokyo."

"You're kidding."

"Nah. I thought I'd give it another go."

"Well be careful, Ama-" Moldiver sighed. She couldn't tell him. She just 
couldn't. "Machinegal is dangerous."

"I will. You too." Then he was gone.

Sighing, Mirai increased her speed as ahead, the red disc that was Mars 
loomed.

********
In the city of New Plymouth on Mars, the launching of the Saint Christopher 
was well underway. At the spaceport, standing before the shuttles that would 
ferry them up to the waiting ship, the hundred and seventy-five men and women 
stood at parade rest as Dale McHorry, the secretary general of the U.N. 
addressed them. McHorry was a stout man, with a weak chin and beady eyes.

"And so, it is upon you brave souls that we place the trust of representing 
the people of Earth. We know not what Misaki found out there, but we do know 
that you hundred and seventy-five will-"

"Hundred and seventy-six," interrupted a voice. Everyone turned to see a 
bright red ball of light descend through the dome and settle to the ground. 
When it faded away, a woman stood there. She was tall and athletic. Her face 
was covered by a black helmet with a blue visor. Metal horns like the ears of 
a bat rose up from her brown hair. The black cheek plates came down to just 
below her jawline where they sprouted antlike mandibles. Her clothing 
consisted of a high necked spandex top that covered her neck completly under 
a military style black tunic who's collar came only halfway up her neck. Over 
that was a dark blue coat that came down to just past her hips and was belted 
with a black belt at the waist. The sleeves were tucked into three fingered 
metal gloves who's tips came to clawlike points and three backwards pointing 
curved spikes ran along the outside. 

On her shoulders, twin metal shoulder guards jutted outwards and were from 
under them, two more curved metal plates held the dark blue cape that came 
down to mid-calf against her arms without restricting their movements. Her 
pants were black and tucked into blue metallic boots with shingaurds and 
tipped with a pair of metal clawlike bladed toes that curved towards each 
other. She held a duffel bag in one hand and gray metal batlike wings 
sprouted from her back. "I'm going too."

"Who are you?" a reporter demanded.

"Moldiver."

"Moldiver?!" Professor Amagi sputtered as he leapt to his feet from where he 
had been seated in the mass of officials on the stage. "But you're Tokyo's 
protector!"

"Which is exactly why I have to go," Moldiver replied.

"Well that's all well and good," McHorry said. "But you simply can't come in 
and announce you're-" he broke off as she suddenly vanished and then appeared 
before him, accompanied by the howling of a sudden gust of wind.

"I'm going," she said flatly. "One way or another."

"Well really," McHorry protested.

"A moment, Mr. Secretary," Amagi said, clomping forward. "Moldiver is a 
metahuman, after all. Living in Tokyo as I have, I have witnessed firsthand 
her feats. The Saint Christopher could use her."

"Hm, well, yes. This is highly irregular, you know."

"Of course it is," Amagi said, patting the other man on the shoulder. "Tell 
you what. You finish the speech while I check Moldiver out on certain 
emergency procedures." He turned to Moldiver. "If you'll come with me?" He 
turned and walked off the stage with Moldiver as Isabelle fell into step 
behind them.

********
As they passed a support beam for the rooftop, Moldiver dropped her bag and 
grabbing Amagi by his lapels, pinned him against the beam.

"If I even think that someone is trying transport in, I use these," she said 
to Isabelle, holding up her claws. She turned back to Amagi. "A word of 
advice, Machinegal." She smiled as his face paled at her use of his alias. "I 
am coming back. And when I do, we're going to...discuss your attack on Chiba 
Tower three years ago." She let him fall. "You might want to start building 
some body armor, Professor, you're going to need it." Scooping up her bag, 
she walked back across the field to where the crew was preparing to board the 
shuttles.

"Are you okay, sir?" Isabelle asked as she helped him to his feet.

"I am unharmed, Isabelle," Amagi replied as he took a communicator from his 
pocket. "Brooke. Since Moldiver is joining the crew, we have an opportunity 
to put us well beyond her reach." He looked up at the bulk of the Christopher 
and then back down at the communicator. "You might as well get rid of the 
Christopher while you're at it. I doubt our friend the Chief wants to take 
the chance of any one getting back with a warning about the Prides." Amagi 
closed the communicator and glanced at his watch. "What do you say we have 
some lunch, my dear?"

"Of course, Professor."

********
Bridge of the S.A.S. Saint Christopher
Twenty-Five days later, outer edge of the Oort cloud.

Captain Edward Jeffords of the Eurasian Defense Force had spent the past 
forty years at sea in one fashion or another. Sea of water or sea of space, 
it made little difference to him. He was a tall, heavily built man, with a 
sqaure jaw and bushy mustache. Currently he was clad in a fully armed and 
armored space suit designed for maximum flexibility and protection of the 
wearer. His helmet sat on the edge of his chair within easy reach.

"Probes away, sir," a technican reported. Jeffords nodded. For years, the 
theory that the sun was orbited by a small, low-mass companion star named 
Nemesis had circulated for years among the more liberal thinking members of 
the astrophysics community.

As Jeffords understood it, certain studies of mass extinctions on Earth 
indicated that they occured every twenty-seven to thirty million years. This, 
in turn indicated an astronomical cycle, such as an eleptical orbit by a 
small star, too small and too distant to easily detect. As it passed near the 
Oort cloud, it's gravity would stir it up, sending comets sunward. Some of 
these comets could hit Earth and trigger extinctions.

The probes, currently racing away from each other would spend the next ten 
years or so orbiting the system, mapping the Kuniper belt, taking samples, 
and searching for any evidence of Nemesis. A powerful source of gravity like 
Nemesis, it was believed, would leave a lasting impression on the movements 
of objects within the Oort cloud and Kuniper Belt, as well be responsible for 
some of the more outstanding peculiarites of the outer planets. Their 
instruments and telescopes would search for things like light, solar 
radiation, temperature fluctuations, odd pulls of gravity and other such 
indicators. No one really expected the probes to prove the theory, but the 
data gathered on the Kuniper Belt and Oort cloud would help scientists 
further probe the origins of the Solar System. Nemesis would simply be a 
bonus.

He pressed the shipwide intercom switch. "All right, lads and ladies," 
Jeffords said, taking draining his coffee and setting it aside. "This is it. 
Batten the hatches, as they say, we Jump in fifteen minutes." 

He turned at the sound of the Marine at the bridge hatch clicking his heels 
together. Moldiver, entered, walking with slow measured steps crossing to the 
captain's station. Her wings were folded down over her shoulders and strips 
of fabric hung from the edges, creating the illusion of a cape. The dark 
colors of her costume and dim lights of the bridge (to help the crew 
concentrate better) gave her an almost supernatural appearance.

Jeffords had dealt with civilans before, and Moldiver was among the better 
behaved ones. She had spent most of the trip in either the observation 
lounge, a holdover from when the Christopher was cargo ship, or the library 
section of the rec room reading. She stayed out of the way and didn't speak 
to the crew unless they spoke to her first, and had accepted the assignment 
of her qaurters, an unused utility closet at the far end of the habitat deck 
without question. 

Privately, Jeffords was glad to have her along. Anyone who could, as reports 
said she had in Taiwan a few months ago, toss ocean going ships around like 
children's toys, or fly into the sun and come back out unscathed like she had 
during the Sakigake launch, was someone he wanted gaurding his back. 
Especially on a mission like this, filled with unknown risks and dangers. 
Still, for the chance to stand on an extrasolar planet, he and the men and 
women under his command were willing to face them. 

"Nervous?" he asked her.

"A bit." 

"I wouldn't worry too much," the exec said, his approach allowing him to hear 
Jefford's question. "Doctor Amagi and his team have been working on and 
improving all phases of the Dimension Jump Engine for the past three years." 
He handed Jeffords a report for his signature. "The guidance system alone is 
light years more advanced then the one on the Sakigake."

"I...don't trust Amagi," Moldiver said as Jeffords scrawled his name as best 
he could with the suit on. "He lied about the Sakigake."

"And look what happened. Miskai sent us a message. All that fuss over it and 
it's probably an invitation to some carnival. Those explosions were probably 
fireworks or something. I bet he's kicking back on a beach out there right 
now with a trio of beautiful alien babes and soaking up the rays." Jeffords 
heard Moldiver growl softly at the exec's words. "I can't wait to hit the 
waves," The exec said before saluting and walking back to his station.

"I don't mean to pry," Jeffords said, "but do you know Misaki?"

"We've...crossed paths," Moldiver replied.

"All sections have reported in, Sir," a technician reported. "All systems 
show green."

"Good." Jeffords keyed the intercom again. "This is Captain Jeffords. In ten 
minutes, we will become pioneers, achieving what many people have only 
dreamed about. Regardless of the ultimate fate of this mission, I want you 
all to know that I am very proud of each and every one of you and can think 
of no finer group of people I would rather face the Great Unknown with. 
Something Gauss said comes to mind; 'Pauca sed matura. Few but excellent.' 
Thank you." He looked up. "At two minutes, sound red alert."

"Yes, sir."  The technician said and then turned back to his console, only to 
stiffen like he had been shocked with a cattle prod. "Sir! Incoming!"

"What?" Jeffords bellowed.

"Large ship, sir! Radar says its at least three times bigger then us and its 
closing on an intercept course at four thousand k.p.s.! Spectrograph is 
reading energy emissions that look like armed energy weapons!"

Jefford's training took over. "Sound Red Alert!" Jeffords barked. As the 
klaxon wailed, Jeffords grabbed his helmet and crammed it onto his head, 
hearing the faint clanging noises that were the armored plates slamming down 
over the bridge portholes. " Arm defense grid! Time to intercept?"

"Five seconds and counting!"

The ship shook as something rumbled by. 

"Target has passed us and-Good Lord!"

"What?"

"It's turning like a damn fighter jet! It shouldn't be able to, not at that 
size, but it is!"

"Sir! Defense grid and engines just lost power." The ship shook again, and 
the sound of metal clanking against metal from somewhere overhead was heard.

A security officer handed Jeffords a rifle. He accepted it and glanced over 
at Moldiver. She too was staring at the ceiling, but with a look of calm 
detachment on her face. And then the portside wall began to glow a green 
color. Without a word, the bridge crew took up defensive positions all save 
Moldiver who stepped forward, blue white incandescent fire forming in the 
palm of her hand, the glow intensified and then a large green glowing orb 
phased through the wall and vanished, revealing two women, one of whom drew 
some sort of gun and pointed it at Moldiver. She was tall and slender, 
dark-skinned and blonde haired. An eye patch covered her right eye and her 
face was expressionless. The other was seated in some sort of hovering chair, 
her teal-green hair braided and falling over one shoulder.

"No wonder I was so glad to leave Earth," the teal-haired one said softly. 
"You can stand down your men, Captain..."

"Jeffords. Edward Jeffords."

"Kiyone Mabiki."

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