Studio YOGIPIGS Presents:

                                Sailor Moon AX
                                    Book I:
                          Adjustments and Comparisons

                              By Studio YOGIPIGS’
                             “PROJECT Muffinhead”
                          (Rob Barba * Libby Thomas)

                     With assistance from Studio YOGIPIGS’
                          “Odango Research Department”
               (Emanuele Bonamico * John Shearen * Dave Clare *
            Sakura Edwards * Sam Lambson * Marvin Peace * Amy Angel)


       Based upon the original _Bishojo Senshi Sailor Moon_ characters 
and 
                                  storyline
                              By Takuechi Naoko



FOREWORD: We Got Joy, We Got Fun, We Got Senshi on the Run....
**************************************************************

    Hiya, and welcome to Studio YOGIPIGS’ first group effort!  We 
finally decided that it was time to do a group project, and after 
minutes of hard debate (in which Rob and I told everybody what we 
wanted to do, and after a few minutes of moaning and 
groaning) we all agreed that this should be our initial group project.
    We’re hoping that this will be our best project ever, but it won’t 
be easy.  For starters, the Studio is spread out over four regions: 
Japan (Sam, John, Marv, and Dave), Italy (Bona), Hawaii (Rob), and the 
US (Sakura, Amy, and myself).  Additionally, Rob and I are 
the main writers on the series, but there are the other YOGIPIG writers 
(Bona, John, and Sam) who will be involved in the research, 
this time.  Also, our usual editors, Sakura, Marv, and Dave are also 
taking in an extra role, being more active in research, as well.  
    As it is, although Rob and I have styles that appear to be very 
similar, even the ways *we* operate are different.  For example, 
Rob, who wants to be a professional writer, is exacting and demanding 
in every way possible in order to come up with something 
that people will enjoy immensely; I, on the other hand, am doing this 
just for...well, sometimes I’m not sure, really.  ^_^.  Rob does 
very exacting research, while I freely admit that I will make up 
anything I can’t find easily.  Rob throws himself in with a passion and 
love that allows him to punch out novel-sized fics in months; I on the 
other hand, take a good portion of a century just to scribble a 
few pages.
    This story has echoes of what you had seen before, and in some 
cases, what we have written before.  It is an amalgam of 
everything that is and isn’t Sailor Moon.  Either way, we all do this 
as a love for our fandom.  Whether we’ve seen the Japanese 
version (Rob), US (Amy and I), Italian (Bona), both (Sakura and Marv) 
or none (the rest), you can be sure that we’ll do our best to 
please.
    --Libby

TECHNICAL NOTES: The Bluejacket’s Manual
****************************************
    This fiction is based upon the premise that the end of the series 
did not occur; that is, you can throw out just about everything you 
know about the final (_Super S_) season.

    For the purposes of this fic, the following rules will be 
implemented to differentiate between the US and Japanese Sailors (yes, 
you heard that correctly).  Before I continue, I would like to say this 
system shows favoritism for neither the US nor Japanese 
versions, but is instead based on the mind of the Eternal Lost Lurker 
(who really hated our old system).  Therefore, we now have 
replaced the “grammatically crappy” system (Sailor moon/moon aside 
Sailor Moon/Moon) with what we affectionately call the 
“hooked on phonics” system.
 
    To identify a Senshi, the name will be in romajii (romanized 
katakana):
    Short title: Muun, Maazu, Maakyuri
    Full title: Sera Muun, Sera Maazu, Sera Maakyuri

    To identify a Sailor (I prefer this to “Scout”, since it sounds 
more professional), the name will be in English:
    Short title: Moon, Mercury, Mars
    Full title: Sailor Moon, Sailor Mercury, Sailor Mars

    The planets and satellite will be referred to in English: the Moon, 
Mercury, and Mars.   However, since this could cause potential 
confusion, we will refer to the heavenly bodies as little as possible. 

    As for the American names, some will be different than what you 
know.  Due to some of the later episodes of the Japanese 
series not hitting the States yet, we decided on picking a few names 
that we thought would not only explain who they are, but also 
echo Takuechi-san’s masterful fun with names, though we did do a 
thorough investigation of names when possible.  We hope that 
you’ll accept this, and if you don’t bear in mind what we’re doing here 
is beyond the pale, anyway.  And if you don’t accept it, well, 
blame Libby.  ^_^;

    Now, on with the show, and we hope you’ll enjoy.
    --Rob

PROLOGUE: I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane...
***************************************
April, 1994:
    It was over, done before it even began.  Usagi sat alone on the jet 
as it raced through the skies over the Pacific, the plane 
heading towards the east and away from Japan.
    Away from her friends.
    Away from her future.
    Away from *the* future.
    It was all gone, now.  No more Crystal Tokyo.  No more Serenity and 
Endymion.  No more Chibi-Usa--that realization tore into 
Usagi’s heart more than anything else.  No more Mamo-cha...Mamoru.  No 
more, and never again.

    Forever.

    The tears rolled down her face as she couldn’t stand what she had 
done, yet it was too late to correct anything.  In the end, the 
world, the future, would be endangered, because of what she did.  In 
the end, her own daughter died--no, would never be born--
because of what she’d done.  The hot, wet tears began to roll down her 
face, and her stomach began to retch at what she had 
wrought.  Or what she would not do.  It made no difference anymore.
    She stared dully at the Ginzuisho, the magical talisman left to her 
by her original mother, so very long ago.  She used it to erase 
the memories of her in her earthly parents’ minds, and that of all her 
kith and kin, save the Senshi.  Even now, she was using it to 
block her presence from Setsuna, so that the guardian of time herself 
would not be able to find her.  
    Still, somewhere within Usagi’s Pandora box of a heart, along with 
all her sins, was a hope.  There would, in the end, be a 
balance--of that Usagi was sure; it would just have to not contain her 
in it.  The world, should Crystal Tokyo come to pass, would 
have to make it without Princess Serenity, for she was no longer 
willing.  Someone else would have to lead them to the Promised 
Land, and she was sure that Mamoru, with the help of Luna and Setsuna, 
would do it.
    The main thing to remember was, though, that Usagi would not be a 
part of it.  Instead, Tsukino Usagi would move to her new 
home, and make a new life for herself.  And when that new life began, 
the girl that was Tsukino Usagi would be dead, at least in 
name.  And the woman that was Serenity, in spirit, would be free, at 
last.

CHAPTER ONE: New Moon
*********************
July, 1998:
    *“MOON PRINCESS HALATION!”* Sera Muun shouted as her scepter 
unleashed an energy blast that slammed the monster into 
the wall, leaving a crater in the side of the building, shattering a 
nearby window.  Still, this creature was pretty tough, and from its 
reptilian eyes, came a pair of iridescent beams that nearly slammed 
into Muun’s torso; at the same time, it rushed forward, striking 
her with its claws.  At the last second, though, she spun to avoid the 
rays, and they simply ripped through her fuku, leaving nasty 
carbon scoring as they continued on.  However, the creature’s sharp 
claws raked the side of her leg, spraying blood in the air as it 
created rents in her leg.  Buoyed by adrenaline and pain, Muun moved 
forward and threw a punch in the creature’s face, then 
followed it up with an ax-kick.  The beast was stunned backwards, 
giving Muun time to breathe, as she stopped momentarily 
against a nearby table, favoring her injured leg.
    “Why don’t you stay down?” Muun said, her voice belying a trace of 
fear, but immediately backed up with the steel of resolute 
anger.  Meanwhile, her mind was a maelstrom of concern.  ((Where are 
the others?  I hope their quarry wasn’t as hard as mine,)) the 
princess thought.  She moved her scepter to bear in front of her, 
wielding it like a combination of part-mace, part talisman; she 
would not be caught so easily a second time.
    She took another look at the creature, feeling nothing but pity for 
what it once was.  By appearances, it had once been a simple 
dog.  Unfortunately, that dog had made the mistake of ingesting a 
Daimon egg.  Daimons are nothing if not creative, and with their 
purpose in life having been extinguished so long ago, they roamed the 
world as nothing more than soulless monsters now, their will 
becoming whatever they wished.  Thus, the monster that fought the 
Senshi currently was a canine variant of a werewolf, with the 
eyes of the Daimon that had absorbed the soul of the mutt.


    “Get out of the way, Muun!”  At once a hailstorm of fiery missiles 
and roses streaked towards the creature, giving Muun minimal 
time to dodge out of the way.
    “Tuxedo Kamen, Maazu, what are you--” she grumbled but bit it off, 
as the projectiles raced past her.  Her long, flowing hair was 
stirred by both the speed trails they created and the concussion that 
hit the Daimon.  The roses buried themselves deep in the body 
of the creature, impaling it to the wall, even as the magic flames 
scored a direct hit on the creature.  In any normal situation, this 
would have spelled the end of the creature, and thus, of the crisis.  
This time however, instead of dissipating from the amount of 
damage that it had received, it seemed to have absorbed the magic 
properties of Maazu’ flame, and thus, was now turning the 
creature into a Lilliputian star.  It appeared that this was *not* the 
run-of-the-mill Daimon, but instead some new type of creature that 
no one had ever seen before.
    Sera Muun looked on in horror as she could only guess what was 
going to happen next--and her assumption was not inclined 
towards thinking warm and fuzzy thoughts.  “Everyone, get outta here 
now!” she roared, as she realized she was nowhere near an 
easy escape route and standing right in front of a huge bomb.
    ((Oh well, only one way out of here,)) she thought as she flicked 
her wrist, shouting, “Moon Tiara Action!”  The projectile slammed 
into the large glass windowpane, bursting it into a hailstorm of 
crystalline shards.  The Senshi didn’t even bother to wait for the 
ersatz boomerang to return to her; she instead began to hightail it for 
the gaping hole that wasn’t there a split-second ago.  She 
didn’t care that she was moving faster than the glass that could cut 
her; she’d already taken a wound, and currently that was the 
*least* of her problems.


    On a beautiful summer evening, lit by the comforting light of the 
Muun, the Princess of the Moon leapt out of the observation 
deck of Tokyo tower and into the nighttime sky, even as the great metal 
structure behind her detonated in a hell-born blast that 
sprayed debris for kilometers around and rattle windows for a radius 
nearly as large.  The explosion not only caught a sleeping city 
unawares, it was soon followed as similar eruptions appeared all over 
the general area.
    The shockwave slammed Muun into a painful landing that sent her 
instantly into unconsciousness.

                                    =<+>=

    Some time later, what should have been a quiet 1:00 in the morning 
on a Wednesday, the Senshi regrouped at Michiru and 
Haruka’s, sitting and waiting.  Under prior circumstances, it would 
have been a victory of sorts, but the last four years had taught the 
Senshi a serious dose of reality check that none had expected--this 
powwow was in fact, a chance for the Senshi to lick their 
wounds and discuss what had gone wrong.
  They were clearly all in horrid shape, and Ami and Hotaru were 
running to and fro, checking on the health and welfare of each 
despite Ami’s own injuries.  In the background, Makoto and Minako were 
watching the results of their battle courtesy of CNN:

    [[“...It is a horrid sight to behold as several major buildings in 
the Shinjuku and Akihibara districts are aflame, with no chance of the 
fires dying down soon.  Casualties are near a hundred, in the aftermath 
of the Senshis’ most vicious fight yet has caused damage 
estimated in the range of billions of yen.  Several witnesses at the 
scene report that these creatures were powerful enough to 
wound at least three of the nine Senshi present....
    [[“We’ve just received word that government engineers have declared 
what remains of Tokyo Tower condemned.  A couple of 
witnesses described seeing one of the Senshi--possibly Sera Muun 
herself-- leap out of the building only seconds before it 
detonated.  Authorities have not made any comments on the source of the 
explosion, but it is believed that a new type of demon 
destroyed the building, rather than allowing itself to be caught by 
authorities.
    [[“We will keep you abreast of this situation as it unfolds here.  
Reporting from downtown Tokyo, this is Koe Junsuina for CNN.”]]     

    Makoto tapped the power switch, a sorrowed expression furrowing her 
delicate brows.  “Another grand victory for us,” she said, 
her sarcastic comment not lost on the others.  Minako just turned away 
from the now silent television, and from the look on her face, 
it was clear that she’d rather be anywhere in the world right now than 
to have to see what she just viewed on TV.
    Behind the pair, the other Senshi were as quite as churchmice, 
unsure of what to say.  Michiru simply leaned against her lover, 
hoping that Haruka could give her some kind of comfort in this 
situation.  Setsuna simply closed her eyes and sighed.  Ami said 
nothing, instead deciding to concentrate on bandaging the large gash 
that Makoto received on her arm.  Indeed, the ones who were 
least injured were Minako and Hotaru, and that was neither due to their 
skills or to combat experience, but to absolute luck that the 
creatures each had taken on were of lesser caliber than their 
contemporaries.


    Finally, it was Ami that broke the silence.  “Explosive Daimons.  I 
could have sworn that I was a goner.  Setsuna, why didn’t you 
tell us that they were coming?”
    Setsuna faced her inquisitor.  “There’s a simple explanation, 
really. “
    “And that is?”
    “I didn’t know they existed.”
    A second silence fell on the group as they absorbed this incredibly 
unbelievable datum.  However, the brief respite didn’t last 
long.  Minako turned and said, “I find that hard to believe, Setsuna.  
You’re the Guardian of Time; you don’t see things the way we 
do.  You’ve always been able to see thi--”
    “No, I do *not* see everything,” Setsuna interrupted the blonde 
girl.  “I didn’t see the events of four years ago.”  Realizing she just 
brought up a painful memory for those present, she continued on a 
slightly different path.  “I used to be able to see time as a 
tapestry, rather than linear.  That’s changed.  Now, time for me is a 
stained glass window, each part showing different cycles, but I 
am unable to see just how they interact with each other.  Additionally, 
because of what happened back then--”
    “--with Usagi,” Ami whispered, her face taking on a melancholy 
cast.  Ami still didn’t want to bring up the name of her long-lost 
friend, but it was something that the Senshi needed to get over.  Ami, 
as a healer, needed to help the group get past the tragedy; in 
doing so, she could get over it herself.
   “Yes, with Usagi,” Setsuna replied, understanding Ami’s voicing of 
the name.  “Until what was split asunder is restored, time will 
be fragmented for me, and I will not be able to predict the outcome of 
things as easily as I might have in the past.  Even now, there 
are things still that I cannot explain, such as how Hotaru is here, 
while Chibi-Usa is not.”
    “Oh.”  Minako, having no idea of what more to say, turned the TV 
back on and changed the channel, hoping that her favorite 
anime would be on.  It would be a welcome, if not needed, distraction.


    As fate would have it, a distraction of its own came into being.  A 
knock sounded upon the front door.  Hotaru answered it, 
immediately allowing the new visitors in.
    Mamoru waltzed in, carrying a dazed and injured Sera Muun in his 
arms.  To his side, with a concerned look on her face, was 
Maazu.  Both girls were in their Senshi fukus, which meant they hadn’t 
had the opportunity to change...and the fact that the battle 
ended over an hour ago was a pretty bad situation.  Mamoru had shifted 
from his Tuxedo Kamen guise to his street clothing.  He 
moved towards the couch, which the girls were immediately vacating.  
Gently setting his charge upon the couch, he looked at Ami 
and said, “She’s got a serious wound on her leg, Ami, and I think she’s 
got a concussion as well.”  The concerned look in his eyes 
made Ami uncomfortable.
    Ami gave him an encouraging smile.  “Don’t worry, Mamoru.  I’ll 
take care of our little lunatic,” hoping the reference towards Muun 
wasn’t too accurate.
    Sera Muun whispered a fuzzy comment through gritted teeth.  “I’ll 
be fine, Ami.  Just get me a bandage for my leg and I’ll be 
fine.”  She immediately began to stand up.  
    Faster than Ami or Mamoru could protest, Maazu gently pushed her 
back down.  “No.  After what I saw you endure, you’re lucky 
to be alive, you dingbat.”  The girl in the red-trimmed fuku made it 
clear that the insult was being used not as the normal “term of 
endearment”, but more out of habit.  “Now, please lie down.”
    Sera Muun complied readily, feigning injury in front of her 
friends.  “Mamoru-sempai,” she started, “I may not live through this.  
But I want you to know that I love yo--”
    Ami grinned.  “Oh, knock it off, will you?  It’s a clean slice.  
It’ll heal in no time, and probably won’t leave a scar.  Plus, stop 
flirting 
with Mamoru.  He’s a married man.”
    Sera Muun grumbled in mock-dismay, “Smartass.”


    To her side, Sera Maazu allowed herself the smallest of smiles, at 
the moment the closest thing she would normally do to 
laughing.
    Ami looked at the Senshi of Mars.  “Don’t tell me you’re planning 
on staying like that all night.”
    “I get your point, Ami-chan.”  The girl simply nodded, then raised 
her star pen...
...and a minute later, Chiba Rei, once Hino Rei, stood aside her 
husband Mamoru, watching as Ami began to work on the wound on 
Muun’s leg.  Rei continued to stifle her laughter as she continued to 
hear Ami chide her patient: “--and while you’re at it, change out 
of your fuku.  It could use some repair.”
    Sera Muun smiled.  “Hai, sensei.”  With that, she raised her hand 
to the air, and began the process of transforming back...
...and a second later, Sera Muun was now in her civilian attire, 
currently a T-shirt and jean shorts.  A thin, petite girl with waist-
length gray hair and wide, expressive brown eyes that bordered on red, 
the newest Senshi would be have been called cute if it 
wasn’t for her professional, possibly emotionless demeanor.
    Hotaru, who was watching the whole incident, noticed Ami pulling a 
brown bottle out of her pouch, along with a few cotton swabs.  
“What’s that?”
    “Don’t worry, Hotaru.  It’s only antiseptic.”
    The girl who was the new Sera Muun blanched slightly.  “That stuff 
stings.”
    Ami made a show of putting the bottle to the side.  “We just won’t 
worry about this, then.  I’m sure you can learn to live with 
gangrene.”
    The gray-haired girl reached over, snatched the bottle out of Ami’s 
hands, and poured a small amount on her leg, nearly yelping 
in pain as she did so.  Giving Ami a crooked eye, she deadpanned, “You 
were saying?”
    Rei clinically eyed the woman that now wore the fuku of Sera Muun.  
“You don’t smile enough, Hikaru-chan.”
    Hikaru looked at her fellow Senshi, and it seemed for a second that 
actual emotion had permeated her stoic expression.  “There’s 
not enough to smile about, Rei.  Two years ago, I was just Gekkou 
Hikaru, a girl from Nikko hoping to get into Juban University and 
work on my major in astronomy.  Then I had to run into you at Tokyo 
Disneyland, which triggered my memories.”
    Rei nodded her understanding.  Hikaru turned out to be, in her 
earlier life, a nondescript member of the House of the Moon, but 
the only one who had talents close to that of Serenity.  In that life, 
she was chosen to be Serenity’s replacement in the event 
something might have happened; in this life, her task was fulfilled.  
Another thing that carried over, was in the previous life, Hikaru 
was known for a severe and terse personality, while in this life, that 
trait had translated as a cold professionalism, though she 
tended to be a bit of a flirt in civilian life.   When Rei finally 
bumped into her, the first member of Serenity’s clan that they’d seen 
since Usagi’s disappearance, the choice was clear: Hikaru would be the 
new Sera Muun.  With a little help of the lunar pen Usagi 
had left behind, the lineup of the Senshi was once again complete, now 
under the command of Minako.
    Unaware of Rei’s prance down memory lane, the silver-haired girl 
continued.  “You all asked me to be Muun, and I took the spot.  
But I didn’t know that the trail would be so bloody.  I mean, I’d heard 
of the Sailor Senshi before, but I never heard of casualties or 
constant major property damage caused in their battles. 
    “I’ve been with you guys for two years, and you’re all my dearest 
friends.  But I never thought being a Senshi would mean this.”  
She held her hands in the air, as though she were summoning some kind 
of explanation from the heavens--an explanation that 
would never come.  “People died tonight.  They *died*--because we 
couldn’t stop these new creatures that were obviously *way* more 
powerful than what we’re used to!  We’re supposed to be the future 
nobility and protectors of this planet!  What good can we do if 
we can’t stop the things we’re supposed to protect people from?!?”


    Rei was about to give the girl a soothing comment when Mamoru 
barked an answer.  “Hikaru, Rei’s not at fault.  If it’s anyone 
who’s to blame, point the finger at Tsukino Usagi.”
    Of course, Hikaru didn’t understand the reference.  “Who?”
    “She doesn’t exist,” Rei said, a catch sounding in her throat, “but 
she was my best friend...and Mamoru’s previous girlfriend.”
    *“Was,”* Mamoru emphasized.  “Now, there’s only you, Rei-chan.”  
However, the bittersweet look in his eyes clearly stated the 
obvious: a mixture of desire, pain, and hatred connected with that 
name.
    Hikaru chanced it.   “I don’t understand, Rei.”
    Rei sighed.   “Maybe someday you’ll hear the full tale, Hikaru, 
when one of us feels the strength to tell it.  But here’s the short 
version.  Usagi was, as I said, my best friend, and Mamoru’s 
girlfriend.  She was also the original Sera Muun.  More so, she was 
also Princess Serenity.”
    Hikaru’s eyes lit up.  “Serenity?  She was my cousin in...my 
previous life.  We never really got along, and it seems I’ll never get 
a 
chance to correct that.  But you said she doesn’t exist anymore.  What 
happened?”
    “She disappeared,” she said, her voice reedy and whispering.  After 
a second, she continued.  “She betrayed us.  Ran away from 
us, telling us she didn’t want to be the Princess anymore, that she 
couldn’t take the madness one moment longer.  She broke off 
her engagement to Mamoru, then used the Ginzuisho to erase the memories 
of anyone who ever knew her--only we remember, 
either due to quick thinking by Setsuna, or because she could bring 
herself to use a spell like that on us.  She then left the lunar pen 
at my grandfather’s temple, after using a final spell to hide her from 
us forever. 
    “She’s gone now.  She’s been gone for four years.  We all love and 
miss her.  But at the same time, it was her power--though she 
never really understood that--which held everything together.  She ran 
away from her responsibility, and now the whole world must 
pay.  For that, we’ve all lost our respect for her.”
    Hikaru nodded her understanding.  “I see.  So Crystal Tokyo will 
never come about then.”

 
    “Not true, thanks to Minako,” Mamoru said, as draped an arm around 
his wife.  It was clearly now his turn to talk--and just as 
obvious that it was something he needed to get off his chest.  “Here we 
were: the Senshi on the verge of falling apart, my heart 
broken and my life nearly destroyed, and the idea of Crystal Tokyo now 
nothing but a dream.  We all thought that would be the end.  
Truth be told, it almost was.
    “It almost was, until someone took the reins and swore that she 
would do her best to ensure that Crystal Tokyo would come 
about.  That person was Minako.  She had the courage to pick up and 
swear that she would continue, whether as Sera Binassu or 
as Sailor V.  She vowed that she’d do what it take to go the distance.”
    Everybody looked at Mamoru, looks of surprise on their faces.  As 
long as they’d known him, this was just about the longest thing 
he’d really ever said, and the first time he’d ever discussed Usagi’s 
departure.  On Minako’s face, an appreciative smile crept into 
view, surprised that she was thrust into the momentary spotlight.
    Unfazed, Mamoru continued.  “True to her word, she did her 
damnedest to make sure the team held together.  She brought me 
back from depression and drilled into me the responsibility I have.  
She persuaded Luna to become my advisor, when it was clear 
that she wanted retirement.  She convinced Rei and I that the covenant 
between the Lunar and Terran houses was broken, and I 
was free to marry whoever I chose.  She continued to push for the 
future through all this; it’s no wonder that she was the Senshi 
Commander in her past life--she certainly has the qualifications for 
it.
    “We’re pushing on ahead with nothing much really changed, except 
the marriage of the Houses of Earth and Mars instead and 
now Minako’s in charge of the Senshi.  The problem is, you as Sera Muun 
aren’t as powerful as Usagi was, probably because 
you’re still learning the ropes.  Unfortunately, some of the creatures 
and enemies we’ve encountered lately were apparently 
designed with Usagi’s power levels in mind, and the truth is, we’re 
losing more ground than we’ve gained, as of late.  But it’s 
probably only a transitory situation until you come into your full 
power.
    “As for our current troubles, I blame Usagi for that.  I did love 
her once, but that’s in the past.  I no longer have any respect for her 
actions, nor believe in whatever excuse she might have for what she 
did.  Serenity is dead in my eyes, and it matters little to me 
since Rei is my queen now.”  Mamoru’s eyes now had such a cold cast to 
them that inside, Hikaru shivered.  “I never want to see 
her again.”
    Hikaru could only nod her understanding.


    “There.  You’ll be fine, now,” Ami announced as she finished the 
bandaging on Hikaru’s leg.  “It’ll still hurt for a few days, but as 
long as you’re easy on your leg, you’ll be fine.”
    Sensing the opportunity Makoto turned towards the pair.  “I guess 
that’s the last time you’ll be patching us up for a while, ne, 
Ami?  We’ll have to make do with Hotaru’s healing spells.”
    Ami looked down at the dark-haired waif at her side, then turned 
towards Makoto as she helped Hikaru to her feet.  “Hotaru will 
do fine, though she may have to do some studying up on her medical 
knowledge.  Besides, I’ll only be gone for a year.  If you need 
me, I’ll teleport back.  There’s nothing to worry about.”  The slight 
edge in Ami’s voice hinted at bemused annoyance; she’d thought 
this argument long since over.
    Ami had received an invitation to study medicine abroad at the 
University of California at Irvine, a suburb of Los Angeles located 
in the Orange County area.  It had a well-known medical program, and so 
when Ami got the invitation, she jumped at the chance.  
The others were supportive of her decision, even though they did tease 
her about it from time to time, calling her “Sera Valley Girl”, 
“Surfer Maakyuri” and other such things.  Tonight was her last night 
with her friends; tomorrow, she’d be starting her year in the 
West.
    “Still, we won’t get to see you from day to day,” Minako commented, 
a catch in her throat.  She and Ami had always been close, 
and she was truly going to miss her friend.  “Promise you’ll call?”
    Ami only smiled, knowing that would be enough.  A second later, she 
followed it up with, “It certainly will be interesting, having to 
live life as a normal girl for most of my time there.  It’s been years 
since I did that.”
    “Don’t get too comfy,” Haruka commented.  “You never know when we--
”


    “I sense a disturbance in time.”
    Those words, uttered from Setsuna’s mouth, brought a quieting chill 
to the room.
    “Che,” Hikaru spat.  “We haven’t had time to recover.  Damn!”
    Minako spoke.  “Let’s see where it is.  Maybe it’s just nothing,” 
she said to Setsuna in wishful thinking.
    “It felt...odd,” Setsuna replied as she answered Minako’s query.  
“Not quite magic, but very powerful.  Maybe scientific; I’m not 
sure.  I don’t think that it’s a danger to anyone, however.”
    “Nonetheless,” Minako said as she turned on the TV, switching to 
CNN, with an apparent Special Report already in progress.  
The reporter on-screen was an American, looking somewhat worn out and 
haggard, with what appeared to be a baseball stadium in 
the background:

    [[“...and authorities estimate that as many as 55,000 people were 
attending the ‘Rockin’ AmeriCares’ Charity Concert to Aid 
Victims of the Indonesian Civil War; a packed house for Dodger Stadium, 
where the concert was held.  The concert, to be headlined 
by prominent international rock artists such as Aerosmith, Bryan Adams, 
Midnight Oil, Cocteau Twins, the Pizzicato Five, and Chad 
Thompson & the Lava Bombs, was to be the first in a world tour to raise 
funds for IndoAid Ltd.
    [[“Instead, the concert was attacked by members of the Bloody 
Triangle, a gang that California law enforcement agencies have 
been trying to shut down for years.  They arrived with the intention of 
making off with the 4.7 million in ticket and concession sales 
that were tallied to go to the fund.  Authorities also estimate that 
the majority of the 5,000-member gang arrived en masse, an army 
that easily moved in to overwhelm Stadium security and LAPD forces 
present.”]]

    The scene shifted to the inside of the park, where a lone figure 
stood on a platform in front of the huge video display, just above 
the performance stage.  The camera closed in on a sight of a 
longhaired, well-built man dressed in black, white, and rainbow colors, 
waving an AK-47 in the air, firing every couple of seconds.  
Occasionally he was screaming obscenities that were being bleeped out 
every few seconds. 

    [[“The Triangle’s leader, identified so far only as ‘Isosceles’, 
dared the LAPD, FBI, and other law enforcement organizations, to as 
he claimed, ‘try and stop the Tri’ from receiving a little charity of 
their own.’  LAPD estimates conclude that the Triangle members 
were equipped with the latest in weapons obtained from the black 
market, more than enough to hold police forces at bay.”]]

    As the scene of Isosceles continued, a whitish-blue blur zoomed 
across the screen, slamming against him.  Hard.  The gang 
leader ricocheted into the wall, where he slumped against the display, 
unconscious.  The blur continued, unabated, as the 
cameraman panned as fast as he could, barely keeping up with the blur 
as it continued on, dropping various members of the 
Triangle like flies.

    [[“The weapons, however, did not hold *everyone* at bay.  Three 
members of the Los Angeles-based superhero team, the Sailors, 
went into action, immediately going on the offensive.  The members, 
Sailors Mercury, Mars, and Saturn, may have been either 
already in attendance, or nearby.”]]

    The image shifted to a person, encased in a red aura, repeatedly 
repeated a maneuver akin to throwing something, sending 
great blasts of energy forward to knock enemies over as though they 
were tenpins.  The person then punched the ground itself, 
creating what appeared to be a seemingly precise earthquake that 
knocked more enemies off their feet.  Although there was so 
much dirt and other obstructions flying around, there were some details 
to be made about the person: it was most likely a she, due 
to the long black hair, and was wearing a white short-sleeve, mid-riff 
top and biker shorts with red trim on both; there also appeared 
to be a red shirt underneath.  It appeared for a second that there 
could be a sailor suit’s flap at the back of the shirt, but it was 
unclear.

    [[“In any case, the three Sailors, operating without the six other 
members of the group, managed to put down the overwhelming 
majority of the group before the remaining Triangles surrendered to 
LAPD.  Special commendation of the day was given to Saturn, 
who managed to foil an attempt at a kidnapping by extremist members of 
the group, and quite an original way.”]]

    The TV then showed a scene on the stage, where the lead singer of 
one of the bands had a gun to her head, courtesy of one of 
the Triangles; six other members flanked him.  Their opponent was a 
smaller person with short black hair that drew up to a battle 
standard against them.  Her uniform was similar to the previous one, 
only it had highlights of purple...and the motif carried on to the 
shoes and purple socks; the uniform even had a sailor’s flap on it.  
Her face wasn’t too clear, but something indicated she radiated 
anger.

    “There’s something familiar about her,” Hotaru commented.
    “Sssh, will ya?” Makoto hissed.  “I’m trying to watch this!”

    Onscreen, a violet aura flared around the combatant.  She slowly 
moved her right hand towards her left side, then swung it back 
into place.  Instantly, seven similar auras flared around the gang 
members.  The girl rushed forward to meet her opponents, who 
suddenly could not move.

    “That’s a time halting spell, I’m sure of it,” Setsuna breathed, 
her voice displaying an awe that was rarely heard in her voice 
before.  “But there’s no magic involved, or else we would have *all* 
sensed the spell.   That has to be impossible.  And I do mean 
*impossible*.”

    The action continued on screen as the young woman walked forward, 
striking each individual as she went by; they however didn’t 
move, having becoming living statues.  The girl made her way down to 
where the lead singer had the gun to her head.  The young 
fighter took the gun out of the assailant’s hand, helped the woman to 
her feet, and walked her back to the safety of nearby police 
while talking to the singer as if nothing had happened.  Once she’d 
delivered her charge to the LAPD, the girl turned around to face 
her opponents. 
    She snapped her fingers.
    Triangle one fell from what seemed to be a blow to the head.
    Number two spun and hit the deck.
    Three held his head as though he was injured.
    Four crashed to the floor, his nose bleeding profusely.
    Five clutched his stomach, then dropped to his knees.
    Six fell atop five.
    Seven, the group leader, well...he dropped to the floor in a fetal 
position, as though he’d been kicked in a *very* sensitive place.

    At the end of the scene, the camera turned back on the reporter, 
now reporting from inside the stadium. 
    [[“As the LAPD and LA Sheriff’s Department surrounded the remaining 
members of the group, the gang was stunned to learn 
they’d been defeated by only three out of the ten Sailors.  In the 
meanwhile, the concert continued, thanks to the efforts of the trio.  
Furthermore, to end on a happier note, the estimated 4.7 million that 
was supposed to come out of the concert expanded to slightly 
over 6.2 million when the Sailors agreed to pose for photos and sign 
autographs for fees to be entirely donated to the IndoAid 
charity.
    [[“And so once again, crime in Southern California is thwarted 
thanks to the efforts of the Sailors.  Reporting live from Los Angeles, 
this is Christian Guttenberg for the CNN Special Report.”]]

    The next story was a report on some other item, but no one was 
bothering to listen anymore.  They were too busy trying to ingest 
what they had just seen.
    Minako turned to Setsuna.  “I don’t suppose that you have any 
knowle...on second thought, don’t bother answering that.  You 
probably wouldn’t tell us anything, anyway.”
    Michiru looked at Minako.  “That’s not fair to Setsuna.  I don’t 
think she has anything to do with this.”  Setsuna didn’t bother 
answering, but instead simply stared back at the blonde, initiating a 
battle of wills at this point.
    While this was going on, all the other Senshi also stared at 
Setsuna, save for Hikaru, who had not known them long enough to 
quite understand why Setsuna was blamed whenever something strange 
happened.
    “No.  I don’t know,” Setsuna said once she realized an ugly optical 
spotlight was being trained on her.  “I have no idea what we 
just saw.”
    “Could they be other Senshi?” Hotaru ventured.
    “Probably not.  They’re probably exactly what the news said they 
are--Sailors,” Mamoru replied, as he looked at the holodisplay 
on Ami’s pocketcomp; she’d pulled it out during the news broadcast.  
“According to the Internet, there’s a major US Navy base in 
southern California--a SEAL commando training site.  They could be an 
anti-terrorist team, or something.”
    “But what about what they were doing?” Haruka replied.  “That *had* 
to be magic.”
    “Not really.  Maybe they’re some new types of weapons systems that 
America is developing.  I mean, how much do we really 
keep up on those type of events?”  Rei turned to Minako.  “Still, I 
think we should investigate this.  It could be something that we 
may need to know, later on down the line.”
    “You may have a point,” Minako commented.  “Still, even with 
teleporting over there, I don’t like the idea of leaving Japan for so 
long.  In light of all the events that have occurred recently, a mega-
Daimon might show up while we’re gone and destroy the place.”


    “Well, I have an idea,” Ami said, as she put away her terminal.  
“I’m going to be living in that area for the next year or so.  I’ll be 
getting a stipend from both my mother and the scholarship, so I don’t 
need to get a job right away.  Thus, with that much free time 
on my hands, I’ll have plenty of time to investigate this.  With this 
plan, you have both a long-term investigation going, and a Senshi 
nearby in case things get rough.  Plus, if things get bad over here, I 
can teleport straight over.  It’s a perfect situation; I don’t think 
we need anyone else.”
    “Are you sure about this, Ami?” Rei asked.
    Ami shook her head vigorously.  “Yes.  I can do this.”
    Minako frowned; it was clear that she didn’t like the plan at all.  
“Well, if you’re sure you’re up to this, I guess I can’t say no.  Just 
promise me you’ll be careful, Ami.”
    Ami’s smiled reply was genuine.  “Of course, Minako.  After all, 
what could there be out there that I couldn’t handle as Sera 
Maakyuri?”  

                                    =<+>=

    As the hours passed, the group chatted easily about old times and 
many an adventure, although it was an uneasy discussion, 
with several attempts not to bring the subject of Usagi into the 
conversation.  Finally, at last, it was time to go.  Ami went back to 
her 
home, readied her items, said goodbye to her mother.  Rei and Mamoru 
took her to New Tokyo International airport, where the 
other two Inner Senshi were waiting; the Outer group and Hikaru were 
absent, though this was no indication of a snub.  Rather, it 
was out of respect for the Inner Senshi, who were so close that they 
were more like sisters than four friends, and would need the 
time to say their proper good-byes.
    Ami cried as she hugged her friends goodbye, wishing them the best 
and assuring them she would be back within a year.  A 
teary-eyed Minako promised she would visit her in LA when she got the 
chance; she also wanted a shot at Hollywood.  No less 
somber was Makoto, who also said she would plan to visit, and would 
also be ready with a big party the day Ami got on the plane to 
return home.  
    Rei’s response was a little different.  As she held Ami, she 
whispered in her ear, “Mamoru-kun would kill me if I told you this, but 
there’s something that I want you to do; something you’ve probably 
thought of. “
    “And that is?” Ami remarked, full knowing what Rei was asking.
    “If you should see her--Usagi--tell her...tell her--” Rei paused 
for thought, then finished her statement as a tear slid down her 
cheek, “--tell her that we love her, miss her, and no matter what, want 
her to come home to us.  We don’t care what happened, we 
forgive her.  We just want her back.”
    “I’ll tell her,” Ami said, eyes growing red from the tears.  “I’d 
be just happy if I could see her so I could tell her.”
    Last up was Mamoru, who although wished her well in her endeavors, 
gave away in his eyes his hope for her failure in one area; 
he knew as well the silent wish of the girls.  Suddenly, though, his 
eyes softened, and Ami knew he reluctantly gave his blessing for 
her hopeful quest. 
    With nothing more to say, she then tearfully waved goodbye to her 
friends, walked down the jetway to the plane, boarding a Delta 
bound for Los Angeles International Airport.


    As the plane lifted off the Narita tarmac, Rei, Mamoru, Makoto, and 
Minako watched their friend disappear into the distance.  
Mamoru knew what--or rather, *whom*--they were going to talk about.  
Not wanting to be a part of their conversation, he feigned 
thirst and went off in search of a soda machine; he’d meet them at the 
airport restaurant for lunch.
    As he wandered off, Rei spoke first.  “I wonder if she’ll find 
Usagi.”
    “I hope so,” Minako said.  “I just miss her so much.”
    Makoto said nothing, simply deciding to embrace her friends.  
“Let’s not hope for things that can’t happen,” she said, finally.  
“Rather, let’s simply hope that our Ami comes back to us soon.”
    Tired of staring at the meaningless viewer’s windows, the three 
turned away, in search of the restaurant.  Yet another Senshi 
may have left, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t have their duties 
to perform...or their normal lives to live.

                                   =<+>=

    A day and a half later, Ami sat in her hotel room, awaiting her 
sponsor, set up by the UCI Medical Club.  She was still hurting 
from jet lag, and ready for the trip down to Irvine.  The last few 
hours or so had been harrowing, to say the least.  She’d arrived in 
LAX hours later than planned due to an unexpected weather front in the 
area caused by El Niño.  Ami instead spent the afternoon 
on the cramped, confining aircraft having a nice conversation with a 
precocious six-year-old Japanese girl eager to see America and 
Disneyland.  Ami really thought nothing of it until the two had 
forgotten to introduce themselves, which the small girl immediately 
rectified.

    “So, what’s your name, lady?” the girl asked.
    “Ami.  Mizuno Ami,” she said, bobbing her head in a short bow.  
“And what is yours?”
    “Oh, I’m Ummei.  Totsuzenno Ummei.  My mommy says that I live up to 
my name.”
    “And why’s that?” Ami said, thinking about what the name meant: 
unexpected destiny.
    “Because I’m a ha-a... har....”  The girl furrowed her cute little 
brows, trying to think of the word.
    “Harbinger?” Ami supplied, inwardly chuckling at the concept of one 
so small being a portent of fate.
    “Yeah, that’s the word.”  Suddenly the girl’s face brightened, as 
if something became a revelation to her.  Yanking a yellow 
stuffed bunny out from the backpack at her side, she showed it to Ami.  
“An’ this is my Moon Rabbit.”  Taking its little stuffed arm, 
she said to her plaything, “Say hi to Mizuno-san, Usagi-chan.”
    Moon rabbit--tsuki no usagi.  Plus, the stuffed animal had a white 
crescent on its forehead.  Ami was no longer laughing.
    
    Ami was still thinking of this as it echoed in her mind.  ((She 
said I’d see Usagi.  I hope she *does* live up to her name.))  She 
flopped 
down on the bed while still in her bath towel, still feeling the jet 
lag.  Since she’d arrived too late for her sponsor to show up, she 
opted to stay at an airport hotel that night; she left her name, number 
and hotel room with Student Services, and her sponsor could 
meet her in the morning.
    Earlier than expected, she got a knock at the door.  She 
immediately dived for the nearest T-shirt when she heard a pleasant 
female voice ring out, “Ami Mizuno?  Hi, I’m your sponsor from the UCI 
Mediclub.”
    Ami responded in what she hoped was good enough English, “Just a 
moment, please.  I will be right there.”  Through the jet lag-
induced haze in her mind, she tried to remember the name she was given.  
“Are you Sandra Ochoa?”  The door, oddly enough, 
didn’t come with a peephole.  ((Oh well, Americans can be so 
contrary,)) Ami mentally shrugged.
   The voice on the other side of the door replied, “Sorry, but Sandy 
had to fly back home this week; family matters.  So I’ll be your 
sponsor instead.  I’m supposed to show you my Student ID as proof; let 
me go through my mess of credit cards here real quick....”
    The girl sounded nice enough, Ami decided, and knew somehow that 
she would ask for some kind of ID for safety’s sake.  At 
last, Ami slipped on a pair of jeans, and walked over to the door, 
opening it.  Ami, wishing to be polite to her sponsor and a potential 
friend, bowed formally.  “Hajimemashite.  Nice to meet you.  I am Ami.”
    The girl was still looking in her small wallet for her card.  
“Gimme a sec...ah, here it  is.”  The other female pulled out her ID 
card, 
then looked at Ami as she stuck her hand out for a shake.  “Nice to 
meet you, Ami.  Name’s Amelia Andersen, but you can just call 
me Amy, and I--”


    Amy Andersen abruptly stopped, staring in stunned silence at Ami.  
Which although normally considered rude, was acceptable at 
the moment...
...because Ami stared right back at Amy, much in the same condition.
    Amy stared at Ami.
    Ami stared at Amy.
    Both girls were looking at a virtual mirror image of themselves.

CHAPTER TWO: Send in the Clones
*******************************

    Amy stared at Ami.
    Ami stared at Amy.
    The sun shone.  Birds flew.  Flight 407, nonstop to Heathrow, was 
climbing into the sky.  There was a Sigalert on the 405-10 
interchange due to a three car pileup.  Disneyland was just opening its 
doors for the day.  The Angels were in first place in the 
American West, but no one expected them to go to the World Series; the 
Dodgers, coming off a successful road trip, were also in 
first.  The first episode of _Saber Marionette_ would air tonight at 
8:00 on NBC, the first time a “Japanamation” series would be shown 
on mainstream TV.  More rumors were flying in Hollywood about the new 
_Star Wars_ film coming out in the fall, as well as a possible 
sequel to _Godzilla_.
    In other words, just another day in La-la-land.

    Welcome to California, Ami Mizuno. 
    
=<+>=

    Amy was not having the best of days.  For starters, she was just 
getting over her breakup with Jeff--he was dumping her because 
she never seemed to have enough time for him.  Then there was the fact 
that her car broke down on the Southbound 57 yesterday; 
the one she was currently driving was a Hertz rental.  That annoying 
high school kid from down the hall was leaving love notes and 
stuff on her apartment doorstep again--that was the *last* time she 
offered to tutor any of her neighbors.  And on top of all that, it was 
that time of the month.
    You think at this point, life would let up on her.  But 
nooooooo....
    Then she found out that Sandy had to fly back to Dallas for her 
brother’s funeral--Goddamn gang violence--so when Tom asked 
her to fill in to pick up the Japanese student the club was chaperoning 
for the transfer student program, she resigned herself to her 
fate.  If worst came to, one of her friends *did* speak Japanese.  With 
that, she shot up the 405 to the Holiday Inn LAX, with the 
intent of picking up one Ms. Ami (and what was with the “Ah-me” 
pronunciation, anyway?  It should be pronounced “Amy”, just like 
that actress, Ami Dolenz) Mizuno.
    She wasn’t expecting this.

                                    =<+>=

    Amy was the first to recover.  “Wow.”  A pause.  “Ummm....” Another 
pause.  She stared at the girl that was, except for the slight, 
almost imperceptible difference in the eye shape, was an exact twin of 
herself.  “It’s, er, nice to meet you.  Sign-ups for classes 
aren’t until Monday, so I was planning to show you around the next few 
days; acclimate you to California.  So...have you had a 
chance to have lunch yet?”
    “Aaaa, iie...that is, well, no, not yet,” came the verbal reply.  
Amy noted that with the exception of an accent, this girl would sound 
exactly like her as well.  It was very unnerving, as though looking at 
a doppelganger of one’s self was an earth-shattering reality; 
proof to the old maxim that there is al least one other person on the 
planet that looks exactly like you.
    “Hungry?” Amy ventured, trying to feel less uneasy and more 
comfortable around this girl.
    “Hai,” came Ami’s hesitant response.
    “Good.  We can do lunch at my friend’s place in Santa Ana.  Her 
family owns a restaurant.  I hope you like Mexican food,” adding 
immediately afterwards, “You, um, *do* have Mexican restaurants in 
Japan, right?”
    “Yes, though I’ve never been to one of them.”  ((Minako always said 
the stuff was too weird,)) she commented mentally. 
    “Trust me, Ami,” Amy replied, “even if you had, you haven’t been to 
a real one yet.  The Mendozas cook the best fajitas this side 
of the border.  Plus, I’m willing to bet that a few of my friends are 
there, as well.  We all usually get together and have lunch when 
we can.  After that, I’ll take you to the school so we can get you set 
in a dorm.  Sound okay to you?”
    Ami, starting to feel a little more at home with the lookalike 
American facing her, nodded a simple yes.
    “Coolamundo,” Amy chirped.  “Let’s grab your bags, get you checked 
out of the hotel, then roll.  We should be in Santa Ana ‘bout 
11:30, if the traffic’s still light.  While you go pack, I’ll make a 
phone call and let Mrs. Mendoza know that we’re on the way.”  With 
that, Amy strolled out of the room, headed downstairs to the lobby in 
search of a pay phone.


    Ami saw the girl leave, then breathed an audible sigh.  Not that 
she didn’t like Amy; she in fact seemed to be a nice person.  
However, it was that her very presence made Ami feel considerably 
uncomfortable.  Not that it was the other girl’s fault, but 
truthfully, how many people ran into situations like this?  As Ami 
gathered up her things, it occurred to her that this could be a sign, 
just as that young child portended--this could be the start of the road 
that would eventually lead her to Usagi.
    ((However,)) she thought, as reality took a second to sink back in, 
((how do we even know she’s here?  Or even in North America?  
Or for that matter, alive?  For all I know, she could be buried 
somewhere in the Steppes of northern Russia, or with a child 
somewhere in Buenos Aires.))  Ami shook her head at that.  ((No.  Best 
not to think about that.  I just know she’s here.  She just has to 
be here.  It’s the only logical thing.))  Ami didn’t bother to remind 
herself that what Usagi did four years back could hardly fit the 
description of logical.
    As Amy strolled back into the room, Ami had to admit that this girl 
seemed pretty nice as far as people went.  There was also 
something about her that Ami secretly envied, as though Amy was living 
the kind of life that Ami sometimes wished she could, but 
would never act; obviously, these were natural things for Amy.  
    Amy helped her with one of the bags.  “So, y’ready to go?”
    Ami smiled.  “Yes.  I am ready to go.”
    “Cool then.  Let’s roll.”

                                    =<+>=

Yokohama:
    Above the skies of the Chinatown district, the air ripped open, a 
tear in the fabric of reality.  An amorphous, insubstantial thing 
slipped through the tear, unnoticed and undetected in the earliest 
hours of the morning.  Gliding down the spire of the Marine tower, 
it slipped in amongst the late night drinkers and young lovers near the 
Marine park.  Gliding, searching, it went along, a spirit, a 
wraith in search of a body.  A parasite in search of a host.
    It entered and departed a few bodies, leaving each person as 
rapidly as it had arrived, but leaving each person worse for the 
wear.  A drunkard that it had inspected went into a frightened 
sobriety, screaming that he would forever forswear the bottle.  A 
young punk, intending to bully some poor unfortunate out of his or her 
hard-earned money, was left shaking and in a fetal position, 
ruing the day he crossed the line into depravity.  A homeless, ancient 
crone, seeing the creature for what it appeared to be began 
saying as many Shinto prayers as possible in the hopes that it would 
leave her alone; the creature, knowing that she respected the 
old ways, left her to be.
    It mattered little, for soon, the creature would find exactly the 
specimen that it was looking for.


    And soon enough, it did.
    On the far side of the park, away from the lights and bustle of 
pedestrians in the park, away from the lit hulks of ocean liners, a 
young woman was contemplating her fate.  She was Morigami Chiaki, and 
until the last few days, had everything to look forward to 
in life.  Admittedly, she was the last of her family, but something 
from her youth spurred her on: that she was destined for something 
great in life.
    That was until her fiancé had been killed by a drunk driver six 
months ago.  Chiaki watched her life spin out of control then.  
Without Kaneda as her anchor in life, her desire to become a doctor 
flagged.  As things stood, she was close to being thrown out of 
medical school, and her job was on the line.  Even her best friend, her 
roommate, was paying significantly less and less attention to 
her.  But truthfully, none of it mattered anymore.  Nothing at all, and 
never again.
    She’d come here to die.  Looking at the dark, unlit waters that 
were slamming violently against the seawall, she compared them 
to a choir of angels that were calling to her, beckoning to her to come 
and join their dance in the heavens.  Her long, dark blue hair 
fluttered in the night; her eyes were two light blue orbs.  All were 
features on a beautiful young woman whose face was a mask of 
pure sorrow and despair.
    She climbed the rail, and stood atop it.  It would be a leap that 
would take only a hairsbreadth, the merest fraction of a second.  It 
wouldn’t be much of a leap--less than a meter, to be honest--but with 
the force of the waves impacting against the shore, she would 
be crushed in a matter of minutes.  She would join her Kaneda in an 
eternal joy.  She steeled herself, ready to move to the afterlife.


    <<DON’T.>> 
    “Who’s there?” she called out.
    <<DON’T DO THIS.  YOU WOULD HURT THOSE WHO LOVE YOU.>> 	
    “But there is no one left!” she cried, tears streaming down her 
face.  “My family is gone, and Kaneda....”  She paused, searching 
for the right words.  “Without him, there’s nothing left for me.  
Nothing at all.  And there will never be again.”
    <<YOU ARE DESTINED FOR MORE.  YOU ARE DESTINED FOR GREAT THINGS.  
YOU CANNOT FUFILL YOUR DESTINY 
IF YOU ARE DEAD.>>
    Chiaki froze in her tracks.  “H-h-how did you know about....”  It 
then dawned on her that the voice she was hearing was not 
caused by sonic vibrations of the air, but within her mind.
    <<YOUR DESTINY?>>  The “voice” chuckled softly.  <<I KNOW, MORIGAMI 
CHIAKI; I KNOW ALL.  AND I PROMISE YOU, 
SOON YOU WILL KNOW AS WELL.  LOOK AT ME.>>
    Instinctively, she turned her head, and stared...
...at the inky floating shape aside her.
    Morigami Chiaki fainted and fell.

                                    =<+>=
   
Costa Mesa:
    A typical day at South Coast Plaza, one of the bigger--and 
certainly more upscale--malls in the area.  Planet Hollywood was 
present, as well as CHANEL.  May-Robinsons seemed perfectly in place as 
well as Macy’s.  Godiva, Sam Goody, Sears, Vie De 
France, FAO Schwartz; you name it, and chances were, it was there.  It 
was a symbol of elegance in the Southland, a sign of all 
that was California.
    It was about to become a target.


    In the parking lot adjacent to the main complex, a pair of men sat 
in the back of a van.  Accompanied by a complex of computers 
and screens, the van looked more like a mobile command center than a 
regular transport.  Which made sense, since it *was* a 
command vehicle.  The two men followed the movement on various screens, 
watching them as though it were either a top Neilsen-
rated show, or a cryptic puzzle that needed to be figured out without 
the benefit of a Rosetta stone.  Yet still these two watched, 
attempting to understand the mess that lay before them.
    The two men were related, and it was evident in their features, but 
other than that, it was difficult to tell.  The one that appeared 
older was rail-thin and wiry, while the younger one was a virtual mass 
of muscle.  The thinner one was seated, while the older 
leaned casually against the back of the chair, looking over his 
compatriot’s shoulder.  Both had blonde-red hair and engaging green 
eyes, with a slightly tanned skin.  The thinner one had a look of 
softness to his face, while that of the other spoke of a rugged, 
outdoors life.  Both were wearing what appeared to be black 
trenchcoats.  In the daytime.  On a sunny day.  During summer in 
California. 
    Something was clearly up.  
    The seated one turned to the other.  “Burton, our people are in 
place.”
    The man named Burton smiled.  “That’s great, Chase.  Bro, I tell 
ya, we’re gonna make a fortune offa this caper.”
    Chase replied, “Man, ya sure this plan’s gonna work?  We just 
busted outta jail three weeks ago, and now this high-speed job?  
Shouldn’t we lay low for a while?”
    Burton coolly replied, “Naah.  Now’s the perfect time to strike.  
With that problem they just had in LA taken care of, the area’ll be 
in a lull.  No one’ll be expecting this, and we’ll make at least a cool 
hundred million off this.”
    “Yeah,” Chase admitted, smiling.  “My only problem is those 
Sailors.  They’re fuckin’ everywhere.”
    Burton huffed.  “Man, fuck those whores.  Goddamn frigid bitches 
are worthless.”
    Chase laughed.  “You’re only pissed ‘cause that cute one--Venus--
blew you off.”
    “Yeah, but next time I see her, I’m gonna bend her over and shove 
it up her backside.  Just watch.  She is, after all, the goddess 
of loooo-ve.”  Burton and Chase chuckled at the prospect, then went 
back to staring at the screens.


    A second later, a voice came over a voice line.  “Pyromancer, this 
is Massive, over.”
    Burton reached over and pressed a button.  “This is Pyromancer. 
Report.”
    “Everyone’s in position, boss.  We’ve got people at all the 
critical points, and demolition teams and missile boys are ready in the 
event that local police get antsy.  I even have a few of my hand-picked 
specialists, just in case.  We got it made.  We’re gonna be 
the only ones who’ve ever heisted an entire shopping mall!”
    Chase remarked, “Never think small, Williamson--you of all people 
should know that.  Think big, and ya get big, right?”
    “Sure thing, boss-man.  Massive, out.”
    Instantly a second voice cam on line.  “CapsLock to Pyromancer.  
We’ve got control of the mall’s communication and security 
terminals.  No comms are going outta that place, and there’s no way 
that the computers controlling security functions are gonna 
work either.”
    Burton responded, “Thanks, Neil.  You do good work.”
    “Hey, Burton, m’ man, when you pay for the best, you get the best.  
And I’m the best Hacker there is.”  Immediately the line 
disconnected.
    Chase turned to Burton.  “Ready to roll, bro?”
    Burton smiled.  “Lead the way to the Promised Land, Chase.”

    
    A couple of minutes later, a pair of men waltzed into Saks Fifth 
Avenue’s front door, and flung away their dark coats, a bizarre 
and symbolic disrobing.  They quickly slid on masks, then fired a 
combined spray of flame and bullets into the air.  As people began 
to scream, ducking for cover, more men popped up, guns at the ready, 
screaming for people to get the fuck down or get dead.  A 
few actually did receive the later option, having the misfortune to 
either catch on fire or were blasted by several rounds. 
    The big man marched forward.  He was dressed in red body armor with 
highlights of yellow and orange; the suit glimmered and 
shined like a moving body of flame.  His face was covered by a nearly 
featureless full facial mask that only showed smoke-colored 
eye lenses.  He had two wrist flame-throwers attached to his forearms, 
and carried a massive thrower strapped to his back.
He spoke, and the voice was amplified to sound like a Fire God.  “I am 
Pyromancer, but of course, you already know that.  You can 
guess why I’m here.  My buddy Recoil and I are planning to do a little 
shopping.  ‘Course, we also decided to bring a few friends,” 
Pyromancer commented, “as you can plainly see.”
    Recoil spoke next.  “You know the routine, ladies and gents.  Do as 
we say, and no one ends up like them.”  He motioned to a 
pair of dead bodies, the first victims.  Recoil smiled, a feral grin of 
a predator about to kill some serious prey.  Like Pyromancer, he 
was dressed in a variant of body armor.  But where fire was the main 
theme of one, the gun-metal gray tones signified the other’s 
trade.  Wrist cannons were attached to his forearms, and a TS-022 laser 
rifle sat snug on Recoil’s back.  A pair of Desert Eagles 
were holstered on either leg, and in his hands was an M-60, with the 
feed chain conspicuously wrapped around his forearms like a 
heavy-caliber anaconda.  His mask had red lenses vice smoke-tinted.  
“Oh yes, and just to let you know we’re serious--”  With 
lightning speed, Recoil aimed and squeezed a round off; the bullet 
lanced forward...
...where it bored its way through the head of a security guard who 
though he had a chance.  As the body fell to the ground, the 
remnants of his head scattering and splashing around like an exploded 
watermelon, Pyromancer finished for his brother.  “--you can 
always ask that guard, though I doubt he’ll answer.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, face it.  You are caught.”
    
                                    =<+>=

    Santa Ana:
    Amy and Ami walked into the front door of La Casa Mendoza, widely 
considered to be one of the top family-owned Mexican 
restaurants around.  Amy continued explaining to her guest that not 
only was it better than well to do, it was one of the few Mexican 
restaurants listed in the Michelin Guide--it had garnered the coveted 
Five Star rating.  This however, had no effect on the 
restaurant, which still maintained that colonial California style that 
it had since it opened 15 years ago.  It certainly had no effect on 
the Mendozas, who were living their lives comfortably and with nearly 
no change in lifestyle whatsoever; just a change in address, 
and the average car in the family was a Porsche vice a Ford Pinto.  The 
Mendozas still maintained their homey little restaurant in 
the heart of Hispanic-oriented Santa Ana, and it was, as they said to 
remind them of their origin as poor Mexican immigrants from 
twenty years ago who had the fortune to strike it rich.
    The Mendozas had been friends of Amy and her mother for nearly two 
decades.  Their eldest child was also one of Amy’s closest 
friends, having gone to the same private elementary school together.  
Their friendship had not wavered since, and the Mendozas 
were, thus, a virtual second family to her.
    So it was no surprise that the woman gave Amy a warm, friendly hug.  
“Amy!  Como estas?”
    “Asi asi,” Amy replied.  “It’s so nice to see you, Mrs. Mendoza!”
    “As well as you, dear.  The girls are at table 14; they just got 
here ten minutes ago.”  Mrs. Mendoza then glanced at Ami.  “And  
you brought your friend, I see.”
    “Yes; she’s the new transfer student from Japan I mentioned.  Ami 
Mizuno, this is Guadalupe Mendoza.  Vice versa.”
    Mrs. Mendoza gasped when she got a good view of Ami.  “Madre de 
Dios!  Amy, she looks just like you!”
    Amy sighed.  ((So much for anyone being able to tell us apart.))  
“I suppose she looks a *little* like me.” 
    “She could pass as your twin sister, Amy; maybe that says who your 
father was, verdad?”  Mrs. Mendoza gave Amy and Ami a 
studious, evaluating look.  “So much alike.  Well, I’m sure you want to 
talk to the rest of the girls, so I won’t hold you up.  I will see 
you later.  Ami, it was a pleasure meeting you.”  With a wink and a 
nod, the middle-aged woman was soon scurrying off to continue 
the mission of running her restaurant.


    As both girls headed towards the direction of Ami took a chance and 
ventured, “Excuse me, Amy-san, but what was that 
supposed to mean?”
    Amy spoke with true candor.  “Sorry, but Mrs. Mendoza gets like 
that occasionally--she’s just looking out for me, you have to 
understand.  It meant that you might be my half-sister.  Y’see, I have 
no idea who my father is.  Even my last name--Andersen--is 
my mother’s.  She’s not sure who my father is, either; she used to 
be...a little more promiscuous than she is now.  I don’t hold it 
against her, though; I chalk it up to the 70s and the fact that if my 
father actually cared, he would have done something.  Assuming 
he knew.  Why do you ask?”
    Ami spoke a little clear as well, though not to the level that Amy 
had; in truth, she was surprised that the woman would tell a 
virtual stranger that kind of information.  ((Just another one of the 
few differences between us, I guess; probably the result of an 
American upbringing.))  “I understand.  My parents divorced when I was 
a little girl--very rare in Japan--and I see my father so very 
little.  I sort of understand what it is like not to have a father.”
    Amy smiled.  “Thanks for your concern, but I’m okay.  The Mendozas 
were always there for me when it was needed, and my 
mother’s been very supportive.  I’d like to think I turned out okay 
despite having no father.  Okay, here we are.”  Arriving at the table, 
Amy called out to three women sitting there.  “Hiya, guys.  ‘M I late?”
    One was getting into her chair.  “I just got here a second before 
you did, Amy.  Had a shitty day at casting call; remind me to tell 
you about it later.”
    One already seated, smiled.  “Oh, the lovebirds said they couldn’t 
make it after all, and Cathy’s running a little late as well.  As for 
the others, you already knew they couldn’t make it.”
    A third was in a Mexican dress similar to Mrs. Mendoza.  She was 
setting tortilla chips, salsa, and a few drinks on the table.  “Oh, 
hi, Amy.  You wanted the usual, right?  I also got something basic for 
your guest, since you said she’s never had Mexican before.  
Papa says hi, by the way, and wants you to swing by the kitchen on the 
way out.  I think he wanted your opinion on something.”
    Amy turned to Ami.  “Ami, I’d like you to meet some of my friends.  
As weird as they are, they still mean a lot to me.  Ladies, this 
is Ami Mizuno, and she’ll be with us for a little while.”
    The three did a double take.  The one already seated remarked, 
“Amy, you haven’t been to Scotland lately, have you?  I heard 
they clone more than sheep, now.”


    Those three weren’t the only ones who were shocked; Ami facefaulted 
as well.  The girl who just sat down was easily an analog 
of Minako.  The one in the restaurant dress was also a duplicate, but 
of Makoto this time.  And as for the one who made the 
remark...
...well, what exactly was Rei doing here, anyway?

                                    =<+>=

    Chiaki woke up.
    She found herself on solid ground.  The grass was wet with the 
spray of the sea, but it was solid.  She hadn’t fallen to her death.  
Something had saved her.
    She looked to her right, knowing that it would be there.  It.  It 
had saved her.  
    “Why?” she asked.
    Without warning, it lunged at her, crawling into every pore in her 
body.  Unable to scream out, she shuddered and shook 
violently, writhing in either pain or pleasure or both.  Looking like a 
woman possessed, she was fortunate that all the people who 
would have looked twice at this event were scared off earlier by the 
creature.
    Finally, she stopped shaking.  She sat up, hugging her wet, 
sweating form as though she’d been through the workout of a 
lifetime.  Her breath came out in ragged, bursting, gulps of air.  She 
opened her eyes and looked up at the stars.
    She heard a name in her mind: Cobalt.
    She understood.

                                    =<+>=
 
    “Ami, this is Mina Reilly--”
    The blonde grinned in a roguish manner.  “Budding actress and 
mallrat extraordinaire.”
    “--Raye Hino--”   
    “Dozo yoroshiku,” the Japanese girl replied, then amended in 
English, “Sorry if that came out bad, but my Japanese is pretty 
shaky.  Don’t use it much around the house, you understand.”
    “--and Angelita Mendoza.”
    The girl in the dress commented, “Lita, for short.  ‘S a pleasure.”
    
    
    Ami stared, all the while trying very hard not to look as though 
she were staring.  She’d just met a near carbon-copy of herself a 
couple of hours ago.  Now, there were three more added to the mix.  
((Just what is going on here?  And where does it end?  Haruka 
and Michiru?  Setsuna?  Mamoru?  Even maybe Usagi?  This is insane--
absolutely, utterly, impossible.  There has to be some 
reason for it.  Things just don’t happen for no reason.  Everything has 
a purpose.  I’ll have to find out what theirs is.))
    Not aware of Ami’s inner dialog, Raye spoke.  “So, Amy tells us 
you’ll be attending UCI with the rest of us, huh?  Medicine major, 
like her, or what?”
    Mina moaned, though in jest.  “Just what we need: another azurehair 
walking encyclopedia.”
    Lita smirked at that.  “Well, the first _Encarta_ over there is 
saving your ass from failing your psychology course, so I’d be a little 
nicer, ‘kay?”
    Amy grinned.  “Guys….”
    Ami, trying not to watch her head spinning from the girls’ 
automatic reactions—((They all act just like us, at home!))--ventured a 
question.  “So, what are you all studying?”
    It was Lita who answered for them all.  “Well, as you know, Amy’s 
working on medicine, but I’m not sure what her specialty will 
be.  Mina’s going for the ‘starving actress’ Drama diploma--“
    “Hey, that’s ‘dietary challenged actress’,” Mina huffed.
    Lita ignored her.  “Raye and I are both business majors.  I’m doing 
it because I’m probably going to take over the restaurant 
someday.  Not sure why Raye is, though for a while it looked like to be 
a nun--”
    “That’s ‘priestess’, Lita; I’m Shinto, not Catholic,” Raye 
answered.  “Grandpa just finally thought that life in a shrine wasn’t 
going 
to work out for me.”
    “Besides, Chad’s PR agency would have a weird time dealing with 
that, wouldn’t they?” Mina pointed out.
    “Do you *have* to point that out to everyone?  We’re trying to keep 
it low key!”
    “Hey, when you got it, flaunt it!” Mina replied.  Lita simply 
rolled her eyes at the blonde’s remark, then moved back to the kitchen 
to check on lunch.
    “Nani?  I am afraid I do not understand,” Ami commented.
    “Sorry.  Raye doesn’t mind talking to us about it, but she’s 
sensitive about avoiding the limelight with others.  She’s engaged to 
Chad Thompson.  Y’know, as in ‘Chad Thompson & The Lava Bombs’ fame?  
They met while Chad was staying at the shrine 
recovering from burnout.  Chad’s a nice guy, but his PR agency would 
rather have him dating a supermodel than the girl next door.  
It’s a wonder that Chad hasn’t fired them yet.”
    “Well, if it is a bother, I will not mention it,” Ami commented.  
“To be honest, I have never heard of him--I listen mostly to jazz.”
    “Actually, it’s a secret,” Rei whispered conspiratorially,  “but 
although he’s got two platinum hard rock albums, at home he prefers 
to listen to soft jazz and new age.”  She was interrupted by the sound 
of Mina exploding into a fit of laughter.  “Really!  Stop 
laughing, Mina!”


    “Actually, I think it’s pretty funny, myself,” a new voice 
announced.  “I never pictured him as the Yanni type.”
    All heads turned, commenting, “Oh, hi, Cathy.  Late again?”
    “Yeah, sorry.”  Cathy sat down in the empty seat next to Raye.  
“I’ve got a deadline on that new videogame I’m programming--the 
guys at Sony say they have to have the title in beta EMPROM by next 
Tuesday.  They just have to realize that this is an RPG, not 
some fighting game; the engine takes a little time.”
    Ami looked at Cathy.  To her relief, she was apparently an 
original.  A young, statuesque black girl with coffee-colored skin, 
brown eyes that bordered just to the right of red, and hair a delicate 
shade of pink, she looked absolutely like no one she ever met.  
Cathy sat, calm and collected, like an eye of a swirling, monstrous 
hurricane.
    Cathy noticed Ami immediately.  “Oh, you must be the new girl.  Hi.  
Name’s Catherine Edison, but you can just call me Cathy.  
And you are?”
    “Mizuno Ami.  Hajimemashite.”  Ami braced for the inevitable “gee 
you look like Amy” speech.
    And here it came.  “You know, you look kinda familiar, as though 
I’ve seen you somewhere before.”  Cathy paused for thought, 
then continued.  “You’re not related to Habarashi Megumi, are you?  
She’s my favorite J-pop star and voice actress.”
    *“WHAAAAAAAAATTTT?!?!?!?!”* Mina cried.  “You don’t think she looks 
like Amy?”
    “What, are you crazy?” Cathy retorted.  “Ami here’s Japanese, while 
Amy obviously isn’t.”
    Lita fortunately reappeared at this time, carrying the lunches.   
Setting them down at the table, she said, “Well, you know how 
scatterbrained Mina can be.  Hiya, Cathy--I got you the usual, ‘kay?  
Be back in a flash, ‘cause I gotta change out of the waitress 
stuff.”  With a sashay of the Senorita dress, she was off to the back 
room.


    As the girls dived into their food, Cathy’s beeper went off.  At 
the same time, so did Mina’s cel phone, Amy’s beeper, and Raye’s 
watch.  They all played the same tune, which Ami idly recognized as 
“Fly Me to the Moon.”
    Mina pulled out her phone.  “Um, must be my, um, agent.  I guess I 
should call him.”
    Amy looked at the beeper, then snatched the phone out of Mina’s 
hand.  “It’s, er, my Mom.  She wants me to call her.”
    Rei pressed a button on her watch.  Looking at Ami, she said, 
“Alarm malfunction.  Sooner or later, I’m gonna hafta get a new 
watch.”
    Cathy looked briefly at her own offending miracle, then commented 
enigmatically, “At least I left the machine on.“
    Lita came rushing out at that point, her watch beeping the same 
tune as the others.  “Guys, I’m afraid I’m going to have to skip 
lunch.  I totally forgot about one of the classes I had, and it’s a 
major test.  Sorry, gotta go.”
    Amy stood up as well.   “My mom said something’s came up, and she 
needs my help.”  Turning back to Ami, she said, “I’m sorry 
that I can’t stay, but I’ll make it up to you.  Raye, can you take her 
to the UCI dorms and help her get set up?”  She tossed her the 
car keys.  “Her stuff’s in my loaner junkheap.  Trade rides with ya?”
    Raye glanced at her watch again, then nodded.  “Don’t worry about 
Ami; Cathy and I got her set.  But tell ya what: dinner and a 
movie tonight?  Just to get Ami out?”  She fished into her pocket and 
tossed Amy her keys.  “Take care of it, okay?  I just made my 
last payment on the thing.”
    “Of course, Raye.”  She tossed Mina’s phone back at her.  “In fact, 
ladies, shall we meet tonight at the Hard Rock in Newport?”  
Everybody nodded assent, so….  “Coolness; we’ll have to call the others 
and see if they can make it, this time.  I’ll get with you 
later.  Sorry again about this, Ami, but I’ll see ya tonight.”  With 
that, she raced out the door.  
    “See ya tonight, Ami.  Nice meeting ya.”  Like a flash, Mina was 
out the door.
    “Catch ya!  Hasta.”  Lita bailed out as well.
    As Ami watched the trio leave, Raye called out in pretty bad 
Japanese, “Don’t worry about that, Ami-san.  We’re always coming 
and going like that.  It’s why we get along so well.”  She then 
switched to English and explained to Cathy, who nodded vigorously, 
voicing her agreement.
    Ami, however, was not wondering about that.  ((They all rushed out 
just like we did whenever the Senshi were needed.  I wonder if 
they have any connection to those Sailors I saw on CNN.))  After a 
second, doubt crept in.  Just because she was a Japanese 
“superhero”, didn’t mean that Amy was one; the same obviously applied 
to the others.  Still, she knew she had to get to the bottom 
of the American Sailors issue, and the only leads she had were these 
people.  If she was right, then her group of Senshi had found 
new allies.  If she was wrong, well, coincidences *do* happen, right?
    Ami turned back to her burrito supreme, and resumed chatting with 
her newfound friends.

                                    =<+>=
    
    About four blocks or so from South Coast Plaza, Amy pulled Raye’s 
two-tone Jeep into a deserted parking lot in front of a closed-
down gas station.  Amy climbed out, closed the door, then spoke a 
simple word into the keychain: “Defense.”  The sparkle of a red 
energy field gleamed as it enveloped the Jeep, then disappeared as it 
changed to an invisible color.  She sat there for a second, 
looking at something on her electronic organizer.  She shook her head 
once, muttering, “Idiots.  Of all the brain-dead things to hold-
up....”
    At this time, a slate-colored Porsche and a white Mazda pulled up 
alongside the Jeep.  Lita and Mina stepped out of their 
respective cars, whispering words into their keychains.  Green and 
orange energy flared around them momentarily as the defense 
systems powered up, then faded out of the visible lightstream.  As the 
girls walked over to Amy’s position, she said to her organizer, 
“Expansion: Holodisplay.”


    Something on the back of the organizer glowed for a second, and 
then a holographic display appeared before the girls, showing 
them exactly what she saw: a Windows 95-like display with three windows 
displaying statistical data.  Not looking at her 
companions, she said, “Ladies, look at the top left window.”
    “So,” Mina said, after a second or two of viewing, “somebody’s 
hijacking South Coast Plaza’s main structure, huh?  Pretty ballsy.  
How much do they want?”
    Without taking her eyes off the screen, Lita commented while 
looking at the second window, “Too damn little, if you ask me.  I 
wonder if they’re aware of how much the property value’s worth.”
    Amy replied, “I don’t care; we’re not here to nail them for bad 
financial judgement.  According to the bottom window, it’s several 
fireteams equipped with various weapons.  Who do we know that’s crazy 
enough to attempt something like this?”
    “Well, there’s Maximum Darkness, but he’s doing time in Detroit, 
isn’t he?” Mina supplied.
    “Yup.  What about the Blaster Masters?”
    “Nope.  They were taken down by that superteam in Miami last 
month,” Amy pointed out.  “Supposedly, Heavy Barrel escaped, 
but he wasn’t known for brains.  This caper takes brains.”
    “Man, I wish the boss was here--she’d know who it might be,” Lita 
commented.
    Amy smiled. “Who do you think is feeding us the site reports?”
    Mina blanched.  “Oh, shit--I totally forgot!”
   “You know she’s fine, Mina.  She always is,” the azurehair replied.
    “Yeah, I know,” the blonde sighed.  “She’s my cousin--I have to 
worry.”
    “Aren’t you getting the information from Delphi?” Lita replied.
    “Only some of it--the statistics on the mall, and what’s known 
about the weapons.  The demands are coming from the SoCal HLO 
TacNet, and Code 0’s giving us internal.”  Speaking to the organizer, 
Amy ordered: “Stealth.”  The organizer’s holodisplay shut off, 
and the screen went from that of a sophisticated computer to that of a 
basic organizer.  She then shut down the organizer and 
shoved it into her purse. 
    Mina commented, “If worst comes to, we can talk to the officer on 
scene once we get there.  For now, let’s get moving right?”
    “Right,” the others replied.


    With that, all three girls raised their hands in the air, fists at 
the ready.  “Go!” 
    Mina called out, intoning first: *“In the Name of Aphrodite, I call 
upon my birthright--POWER OF VENUS, ARISE!”*  On her 
ring finger, a simple decorative ring, adorned with a orange jewel, 
began to glow with intense power.  Within seconds, she was 
enveloped in a cocoon of light.
    Lita went next.  *“In the Name of Zeus, I call upon my birthright--
POWER OF JUPITER, ARISE!”*  The jade on her ring began 
to shine, and with a spark of light, she began her transformation.
   Last came Amy.  *“In the name of Hermes, I call upon my birthright--
POWER OF MERCURY, ARISE!”*  Her ring’s light blue 
gem erupted with power, and signaled the start of her change.
    A second later, the shafts of light disappeared...and with them, 
Mina Reilly, Lita Mendoza, and Amy Andersen.
    In their place stood Sailor Venus, Sailor Jupiter, and Sailor 
Mercury, primed, pumped and ready to kick some bad-guy butt.


    Venus adjusted her waist-length braid.  “So, Jupiter, Mercury, 
here’s the game plan.  We get there.  We get some info from Costa 
Mesa PD.  We go in.  We get to Code 0.  Then we kick some serious ass.”
    Jupiter grinned with the look of a predator.  “They’re gonna pay.”
    Mercury said nothing.  She simply put her arms around the other 
two, grabbed them, and holding on, ran the four blocks to the 
mall.  It only took three nanoseconds, since she was running slow for 
her friends’ comfort.

                                    =<+>=

    Chiaki returned home to find her roommate up and waiting for her.  
“Chiaki-chan, where’ve ya been! I was worried!”
    “I’m fine; in fact, better than I’ve ever been in a while.  I went 
for a walk to figure out some things about my life.  I think I found a 
purpose again.”
    ((That purpose is that we must stop the Survivors before it is too 
late.  We simply must.  Basalt City must never surface in the future, 
or the world will die.  The Survivors must be destroyed utterly, each 
and everyone of them, before they can begin.  Crystal Tokyo 
may never come as a result, but it is a far better cry than the hell 
that awaits the world now.
    ((I need to find my allies before it is too late, before the 
Survivors begin.))
    Not mentioning her/its thoughts aloud, Chiaki commented, “I’ll tell 
you about it when I get up.  ‘Night.”  No more to say, Chiaki 
moved towards her room, intending to get some sleep.  Tomorrow would be 
the first day she began her hunt, and it wouldn’t do to 
combat anyone on a tired body.


    Her roommate, in the interim, watched Chiaki move off.  Was there 
an odd gleam in her eyes, the woman wondered, but brushed 
it off.  Chiaki had been suffering for so long without Kaneda, the 
gleam had been gone.  The gleam was obviously the sign of a 
person that found a reason to live once more.
    Happy that her best friend would be alright, Gekkou Hikaru yawned, 
stretched, and went to bed.  There was something in the air 
that Rei and Setsuna had felt; something was coming, and if it was 
malignant, Sera Muun would need to be rested and ready for 
anything